Here Be Dragons - 1 by Sharon Penman (best inspirational books txt) 📕

to die." His outburst had exhausted him; he lay back against the pillows, fighting nausea. When he opened his eyes, the Abbot and Peter were bending over him, and he saw in their faces their relief that he still breathed. He swallowed with difficulty. He'd known for days that he was dying, but death was so very close now, was in the chamber with them, no longer willing to wait."I always thought, Peter, that I'd ... I'd fear to die . . ." His tongue seemed to have swollen, was so rough and dry that he had to labor just to shape his words. "But . . . after a week of this pain, I'm beginning to see it as . . . as a release ..."Peter reached for a wine cup, held it to his lips. "Shall I hear your confession now?"John managed a ghostly smile. "I think not. Better the Abbot be the one to absolve me of my sins. You see . . . you know me too well, would not . . . not believe me when I said I forgave my enemies ..."The Abbot looked shocked, but Peter was smiling through tears John waved theAbbot away from the bed, plucked at Peter's sleeve "You must take messages for me ... Tell Pembroke that I entrust Henfl into his care, that he must safeguard my son's crown. Tell Isabelle tna she can rely upon Pembroke andChester, that she can trust them and you. Tell Pembroke, too, to reward those who . . . who were w me at the last."Peter could barely hear him now; he leaned forward, his ea[ohn's mouth. "Tell Llewelyn ab lorwerth . . . tell him to take care of my daughter. And tell Will..."John's voice trailed off, and Peter prompted gently, "Tell him what, John?"John closed his eyes. "Nothing," he whispered. "Nothing ..."AS the afternoon ebbed away, the sky darkened long before dusk and the wind intensified. The Abbot stood by John's bed, watching the uneven rise and fall of his chest. He was amazed that John still lived, for he'd been fearful thatJohn might die before he could hear his confession, give him the holyViaticum, and perform the rite of Extreme Unction. But John had rallied briefly, had once again shown an inner resilience that somehow defied all claims upon mortal flesh. Having administered the Sacraments, the Abbot had to believe that John was now in a state of grace. Yet dark doubts he could not acknowledge gnawed at the outer edges of his faith.John had given the correct answers to the Seven Interrogatories, had received the Body and Blood of Christ, had shown the proper contrition. But after he was absolved, shriven of his earthly sins, he'd said softly, "Do not theScriptures say there shall be greater joy in Heaven over one sinner that repenteth than over nine and ninety just persons?" Then he'd slept, and the

Abbot did not know if he'd been sincere and seeking solace, mocking himself, or even mocking God.JOHN awoke to blackness and burning pain, to panic. He could not see, and when he cried out, no one answered him. His mind clouded by sleep and the Abbot's draught, he could not remember where he was or why he was suffering, and he tried to rise from the bed but had not the strength, lay there helplessly in the dark until the door opened and the Abbot entered.He saw at once what had happened, began to offer profuse apologies. "The shutter blew open, my lord, and the candles guttered out. I Went to fetch a lamp, did not think you'd awaken." . The lamp was a crude one, no more than a wick floating in a bowl of stl oil, but its feeble light was the most welcome sight John had ever en. For once he submitted willingly to the Abbot's ministrations, let m°nk squeeze water onto his swollen lips, bathe the sweat from his forehead.Fetch the Bishop," he whispered, saw the Abbot look away in suden distress.

498T499"My liege, he ... he's gone. He and John Marshal left hours ago They said it was urgent they reach my lords of Pembroke and Chester as soon as possible, in order to see to the safety of the young Kof yOl) son." He flushed, then added remorsefully, "You were so ill, my lord and it seemed so unlikely you'd recover your wits . . .""I understand ..." And John did. Peter des Roches was his friend But when a king died, his power died with him. He mumbled something too low for the Abbot to hear. He could not be sure, but it sounded as if John had said, "Sic transit gloria mundi." Thus passes the glory of the world. He gave John a look of surprised approval, glad that John seemed to be focusing his thoughts now as he ought, upon the Hereafter, and then stammered, "Your Grace, I... I have a great favor to ask of you. Not for me, but for my abbey."That came as no surprise. How tired he was, so very, very tired. He roused himself with an effort, said, "Ask, then. Let yours be the last favor Igrant...""My liege, if you only would ... I know that you said you wanted to be buried in the Benedictine priory of St Mary at Worcester, before the shrine of StWulfstan. But I wondered if ... if you might consider ... if we could have your heart and bowels for burial at Croxton?"John's eyes openedwide. "What?""If you'd consent, my lord, it would be such an honor. We'd bury them at theHigh Altar and say Masses for your soul" He broke off, dismayed and bewildered, for John was laughing. His laughter was unsteady, rasping and harsh, but it was unmistakably laughter."If only I'd known there'd be ... be such a demand," he gasped, "we could have auctioned off the . . . the choice parts . . ." The horrified look on theAbbot's face only