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Christ. It is quite another to imperil her immortal soul, to imperil all our immortal souls by knowingly handing her over to the worshippers of idols. Et tulisti filios tuos et filias tuas quas generasti mihi et immolasti eis ad devorandum numquid parva est fornicatio tua immolantis filios meos et dedisti illos consecrans eis .’
    He said the words so quickly that Ebolus, though well educated in Latin, strained forward to hear them. ‘What?’
    The confessor twisted his head in frustration and said, ‘In plain Roman, moreover thou hast taken thy sons and thy daughters, whom thou hast borne unto me, and these hast thou sacrificed unto them to be devoured. Is this of thy whoredoms a small matter, that thou hast slain my children and—’
    Ebolus interrupted. ‘My Latin is as good as yours, Father; if anything it is my ears that fail me.’
    ‘Then hear this,’ said the confessor, feeling heat come to his cheeks. ‘Give that girl to the Northmen and you will imperil not only her soul but your own. Better a thousand righteous deaths than one that the Lord abhors. You are right to protect her, Eudes. The piety of kings is the protection of their people.’
    ‘It is a hard god you follow, Confessor,’ said the abbot.
    ‘It is God, plain and simple.’
    ‘Then go to her and make her show her face in the streets,’ said Eudes. ‘That’s all I ask.’
    ‘There might be a way that would satisfy us all,’ said Ebolus.
    ‘If fat Emperor Charles got off his backside and sent some men down here,’ said Eudes.
    Ebolus breathed out heavily. ‘That would take a miracle and the Lord is sparing with those. No. Look, we cannot send the girl to the northerners against her will. That would make us as the Sanhedrin, who brought Christ to Pilate. But she can volunteer. That would make her a martyr. There are plenty of examples of saints who have willingly given up their lives to pagans to defend the faith. And you, Eudes, would not appear weak. You would have a martyr in your family. Will you not allow her the bravery that you show on our ramparts every day?’
    ‘She is my sister,’ said Eudes.
    ‘And this is your city. If Paris falls, what will they say of Eudes then? If ever you have ambitions to be king of the Franks, then they will lie in its ashes,’ said Ebolus. The abbot’s eyes met Eudes’s, searching to see the count’s reaction to his words. He saw nothing, which he took for encouragement, so he went on: ‘And there is a precedent. Saint Perpetua was torn to pieces by wild animals in the amphitheatre in Rome for refusing to renounce the Lord. It might be argued that was a pagan ritual, of a kind.’
    Jehan felt his body twitch and convulse.
    ‘This is sophistry,’ he said, ‘and I am not happy that we are using our philosophies to murder this girl.’
    ‘What would you do, Confessor, if it was your blood they wanted?’ said Ebolus.
    ‘I would go to them,’ he said.
    ‘Exactly. Then can you say the lady should not even have the virtues of martyrdom and an eternal reward explained to her?’
    The confessor thought for a second.
    ‘I cannot.’
    ‘So you will talk to her?’ said Ebolus.
    ‘Just get her to smile and face the people,’ said Eudes. ‘That will be enough.’
    ‘But you have no objection to the confessor reminding her of her duties to the city? You will not allow a selfish pride to cloud your judgement of the necessary?’ said Ebolus.
    ‘I will not have her forced.’
    ‘No one is talking of forcing her,’ said Ebolus; ‘we are simply seeking to remind her of her Christian duty to put her fellow men before herself. Confessor, can you do this?’
    Again, silence from the confessor. After a time, he spoke: ‘I will speak but I will not persuade her. Any decision must be her own.’
    ‘Then let us not delay,’ said Ebolus.
    Jehan felt a strong hand on his arm.
    ‘Concentrate on getting her to show herself to the people. If I find that you have coerced her in any way, monk, then do