The courtyard was glaring but it was much warmer than the dungeon where McCauly now lived, and nowhere near as damp. As he walked across the cobblestones, Hilderic was waiting for him by the inner gate, his hands clasped together in what should have been pious patience, but was more likely to be the exact opposite. ‘Well, how is he?’ Hilderic demanded. ‘Keep your voice low, Brother,’ Godfrey murmured, eyeing the guards closest to them. They wouldn’t be able to hear but that was no reason to take any risk. ‘He’s well enough. The Queen visits him almost every day, bringing him fresh linen, books and such. He’s a little thinner I suppose, but that’s to be expected.’ Hilderic frowned and shook his head. ‘I thank the gods at least that Selar finally allowed a visit. To keep him confined there without even the Sacraments as comfort is a barbarity below even the King. Did McCauly say anything?’ Godfrey sighed. ‘He said we were to do nothing to gain his release. He refuses to be the instrument of the Church’s destruction.
