Marcus jerked his hand, and ripped out the page. The priest cried in shock, and lunged, too late, to stop him.

Marcus pushed him aside, lit one of his candles off the altar taper, and walked to Nesta’s worktable where he lit the others and set them on the plank.

He opened the box of ink pots. Hopefully the images that she made carried no significance. There was no way he could duplicate angels. A few birds and animals, however … he might manage that. Nesta’s own designs had not been especially artful of late, and perhaps the crudeness of his own would not be noticed.

He sat, pulled out his eating knife, and cut off the section of parchment that had words. The priest watched.

“Were you here when she was a girl? Did you serve her father?” Marcus asked.

The priest nodded.

“Were you going to walk to Carlisle with her design, or pass it on?”

The priest’s shriveled mouth pursed. “There are horses in the village. Someone else would have carried it north.”

“Do you want to save her?” He began scraping an image of a dragon into the top corner of the sheet that remained. “Or do you welcome a Welsh martyr, even if the cause is lost?”

“I saw her scraping like that for hours last night. If you know to do it too, then all is indeed lost. I see no need for a martyr, if she can be spared.”

“Then come here, and help me with the Latin.”

In the first light of dawn, Marcus carried his design back to the manor house. He found Paul where he had told him to wait in the hall. He shook his friend, and Paul’s dark curls flew as he jolted awake.

Gesturing, he brought Paul out into the yard. “Take four men, and extra horses, and ride to Carlisle. If you do not find David on the road, wait for him there. With that wagon and his trading, he should not have arrived yet.”

“And when I find him?”

“Tell him to destroy the design that he carries, and give him this one instead. Have him bring it to the merchant Nesta spoke of.”

Paul reached for the parchment. His fingers hesitated for an instant before they closed on the roll. “If I do this, I will not be here when you move.”

“That is my gift to you. I know your heart is not in this, and that some of your blood would like to see Llygad’s men successful.”

“Not against you. I would never—”

“I have never doubted your loyalty to me, or that you would fight by my side. That is why I entrust you with this duty. It is vital that you find David, and switch the designs.”

Paul gazed down at the roll in his hand. “It is not hers, is it?”