was a hall that ran
parallel to the sanctuary, leading up to a staircase to the second floor.
The bed was on the second floor, and Lawrence had carried her
up t he stairs and laid her on the bed. The only other objects in the room were a desk and a chair, an open book of scripture and exegesis, and a few letters. The only decoration was a loop of braided straw on one wall.
There were two second-floor rooms; the other bedroom seemed to be used for storage.
Though he was not intentionally looking around, Lawrence could tell at a glance that the room did not contain any of Father Franz’s writings.
The storeroom contained various items used by the church throughout the year—fabric with ceremonial embroidery, candlesticks, swords, and shields. They were all covered in dust, as though they had not been used in a very long time.
Lawrence closed the storeroom’s door. He heard the sound of light footsteps coming up the stairs, and when he turned to look, he saw it was Holo.
No doubt she had walked all the way around the hallway that encircled the sanctuary, making a quick check of the interior of the church.
The vague displeasure on her face was probably not over concern for the still-unconscious Elsa, but rather because she had failed to find any of Father Franz’s writings.
“I suppose it will be quickest to ask, after all. If they are hidden, we’ll never find them,” she admitted.
“You can’t sniff them out?” said Lawrence without thinking, but Holo only smiled at him, and he hastily added, “Sorry!”
“So, is she yet asleep? I hardly expected her to be so frail.”
“I don’t know if that’s it. I’m starting to wonder if her circumstances are more difficult than I’d imagined.”
He knew he shouldn’t, but Lawrence couldn’t help reading the letters that were on her desk. Once he finished, he had a much better understanding of the things Elsa had done to stave off Enberch’s intervention.
She had claimed to other churches that like Enberch, Tereo followed the orthodox faith and had sought the support of a nearby feudal lord in order to prevent Enberch from attacking.
But looking at the lord’s response, Lawrence noticed that he seemed to give his support more out of a debt to Father Franz than out of any trust Elsa had won on her own.
There were also letters from large dioceses that even Lawrence had heard of.
On the whole, everything was as Lawrence had guessed.
It was not hard to imagine the days when Elsa would have been frantically anticipating the letter’s arrival. Even Lawrence, an outsider, could imagine the awful suspense she must have felt.
Nonetheless, he had to guess that her greatest hardship lay somewhere else entirely.
The dust-covered artifacts in the storeroom told a tale all too clear.
Though she was holding off Enberch—with the elder’s assistance—it seemed doubtful that any of the villagers felt any gratitude.
It was certainly true that they regarded the church with a measure of disdain.
"...Mm.”
As Lawrence was thinking on it, he heard a small sound coming from the bed.
It seemed Elsa was awake.
Lawrence raised his hand to stop Holo, who looked ready to pounce like a wolf that has heard a hare’s footsteps. He cleared his throat softly. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Elsa did not jerk herself upright, but simply opened her eyes slowly. Her expression was complicated, as though she was unsure whether to feel surprised, frightened, or angry. She seemed to settle on a vaguely troubled look.
She nodded her head slightly “Are you not going to tie me up?”
They were bold words.
“If it seemed like you were going to call for someone, I was prepared for that. I have rope in my knapsack.”
“And if I should call out now?”
Elsa looked away from Lawrence to Holo—Holo whose wish to know the location of the old tales had brought them here.
“That would benefit neither you nor us,” said Lawrence.
Elsa looked back at Lawrence, closing
parallel to the sanctuary, leading up to a staircase to the second floor.
The bed was on the second floor, and Lawrence had carried her
up t he stairs and laid her on the bed. The only other objects in the room were a desk and a chair, an open book of scripture and exegesis, and a few letters. The only decoration was a loop of braided straw on one wall.
There were two second-floor rooms; the other bedroom seemed to be used for storage.
Though he was not intentionally looking around, Lawrence could tell at a glance that the room did not contain any of Father Franz’s writings.
The storeroom contained various items used by the church throughout the year—fabric with ceremonial embroidery, candlesticks, swords, and shields. They were all covered in dust, as though they had not been used in a very long time.
Lawrence closed the storeroom’s door. He heard the sound of light footsteps coming up the stairs, and when he turned to look, he saw it was Holo.
No doubt she had walked all the way around the hallway that encircled the sanctuary, making a quick check of the interior of the church.
The vague displeasure on her face was probably not over concern for the still-unconscious Elsa, but rather because she had failed to find any of Father Franz’s writings.
“I suppose it will be quickest to ask, after all. If they are hidden, we’ll never find them,” she admitted.
“You can’t sniff them out?” said Lawrence without thinking, but Holo only smiled at him, and he hastily added, “Sorry!”
“So, is she yet asleep? I hardly expected her to be so frail.”
“I don’t know if that’s it. I’m starting to wonder if her circumstances are more difficult than I’d imagined.”
He knew he shouldn’t, but Lawrence couldn’t help reading the letters that were on her desk. Once he finished, he had a much better understanding of the things Elsa had done to stave off Enberch’s intervention.
She had claimed to other churches that like Enberch, Tereo followed the orthodox faith and had sought the support of a nearby feudal lord in order to prevent Enberch from attacking.
But looking at the lord’s response, Lawrence noticed that he seemed to give his support more out of a debt to Father Franz than out of any trust Elsa had won on her own.
There were also letters from large dioceses that even Lawrence had heard of.
On the whole, everything was as Lawrence had guessed.
It was not hard to imagine the days when Elsa would have been frantically anticipating the letter’s arrival. Even Lawrence, an outsider, could imagine the awful suspense she must have felt.
Nonetheless, he had to guess that her greatest hardship lay somewhere else entirely.
The dust-covered artifacts in the storeroom told a tale all too clear.
Though she was holding off Enberch—with the elder’s assistance—it seemed doubtful that any of the villagers felt any gratitude.
It was certainly true that they regarded the church with a measure of disdain.
"...Mm.”
As Lawrence was thinking on it, he heard a small sound coming from the bed.
It seemed Elsa was awake.
Lawrence raised his hand to stop Holo, who looked ready to pounce like a wolf that has heard a hare’s footsteps. He cleared his throat softly. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Elsa did not jerk herself upright, but simply opened her eyes slowly. Her expression was complicated, as though she was unsure whether to feel surprised, frightened, or angry. She seemed to settle on a vaguely troubled look.
She nodded her head slightly “Are you not going to tie me up?”
They were bold words.
“If it seemed like you were going to call for someone, I was prepared for that. I have rope in my knapsack.”
“And if I should call out now?”
Elsa looked away from Lawrence to Holo—Holo whose wish to know the location of the old tales had brought them here.
“That would benefit neither you nor us,” said Lawrence.
Elsa looked back at Lawrence, closing
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