Read The Butcher of St Peter's: (Knights Templar 19) for Free Online Page A

the vast nave and marvel.
    But at present it was nothing more than a building site, and Sir Peregrine could only cast about him with distaste at the
     sights and sounds of masons, smiths and carpenters as he made his way inside.
    Even with the old walls still standing, it was long and broad enough to make a man wonder how the ceiling could be supported.
     Massive columns of stone rose up into the gloomy shadows high overhead. The ceiling was arched between them which, so Sir
     Peregrine had once heard, was the cause of its stability, but he made no claim to understanding such matters. As far as he
     was concerned, it was a matter of common knowledge that God existed, and in the same way he knew that ceilings were supposed
     to remain suspended without collapsing on the congregation below. Fortunately, such disasters were quite rare, although Sir
     Peregrine had heard that Ely’s cathedral tower had recently fallen. An appalling thought, he considered, glancing up into
     the darkness overhead.
    Censers swung, filling the place with their incense, and the light was filtered by their smoke, while the bells calling the
     faithful to their prayers could be heard tolling mournfully outside, and Sir Peregrine bowed his head as the familiar sightsand sounds took him back to that time only a few years before when he had been so happy. Keeper of his lord’s most important
     castle, a bannaret with the military skill and knowledge to lead his own men into battle, and at last content in the love
     of a woman who adored him. A poor woman, perhaps, whom he could not marry, but still a good woman who wanted to have his children.
    And it had been the child that killed her, he reminded himself as the grief swelled in his breast, threatening to burst his
     lonely heart. His child had killed her during that difficult birth, and died in the process.
    ‘Who is he?’ Agnes asked quietly.
    It was normal, of course, for people to be segregated by their sex as they entered the church; women to one side, men to the
     other. That way there was less chance of members of the congregation being ‘distracted’.
    Juliana gave her sister a sharp look. There was no point in separating people in this way if her sister would insist on peering
     round all the time to see who was there and who wasn’t. It was one aspect of her sister’s nature that never ceased to astonish
     her, this inquisitiveness. When there was someone new in the city, she must try to learn as much as she could. Especially
     when it was a man. With a sigh, Juliana told herself she should be more patient.
    ‘I suppose you want to know whether he is married or not?’ she whispered in return.
    ‘It’s not that. I just wondered where he comes from. I’ve not seen him in here before,’ Agnes said, ignoring the reproof in
     her sister’s voice.
    ‘I dare say he is some wandering knight travelling past our city and you won’t see him again,’ Juliana said dismissively.
    ‘Perhaps so. Yet look at his behaviour! Is he really weeping?’
    ‘I neither know nor care, sister. Please concentrate.’
    ‘I shall … but I should like to know who he is.’
    ‘We can ask later,’ Juliana said. ‘I will ask my husband if you wish.’
    She saw Agnes incline her head a little, and turned back to face the altar with a little sigh of annoyance. It was typical
     of her older sister that she should be so fascinated by a mere stranger. There was probably nothing of interest about him.
     Juliana glanced towards him and saw a man of some authority, but bent in silent prayer. He scarcely looked prepossessing enough
     to attract her sister.
    That was unfair, of course. No man looked at his best when riven with grief, and this stranger knight appeared to be consumed
     with sadness, from the way he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, keeping his head down and his eyes closed. Perhaps Agnes
     had developed a maternal instinct at last, and would like to have taken him and cuddled him to ease his sorrow?