Page 31 of Fortress of Snow

Mazy’s stomach twisted. Did he blame her for not going to Prussia to fight? He never said she was the reason he’d stayed.

After waiting for him all day, she suddenly felt quite sad that he was there.

She went to the window and stared out at the people stillmilling about on the street, fewer than in the daytime, but she was surprised at how many there were. Where were they going? What did they do to make money? There were more men than women, and she saw no young women her own age. No doubt they were at home, safe with their families.

John’s breathing was loud and steady; he was already asleep.

Perhaps he’d been cross with her because he was tired. Or because he’d been drinking.

Perhaps she should have stayed in Strachleigh. But at least she wasn’t in Wexcombe with Warin, who didn’t care if she lived or died.

Mazy was here in London, and she would not feel sorry for herself. Even if John was neglectful of her, she would survive somehow. She could and she would.

Ten

John left before the sun was up the next morning. Mazy arose, ate the last of the food she had bought, and went down the stairs. She wanted to explore London, but she also needed to buy more food.

From the light of the lit candle in a wall sconce at the bottom of the stairs, she could see a room with a few burlap bags, bulging and full, resting against one wall. If there were so many nefarious people in London, why did Sadler not keep the back door locked?

Mazy stood there, not making any sound, listening. She hoped to hear Ro’s voice.

After waiting a few minutes without seeing or hearing her new friend, Mazy went out the back door and into the street.

She patted the key in her pocket, happy she had remembered to lock her door this time, then slipped her hand inside her otherpocket, where she kept one of her throwing knives. If anyone tried to attack her, she was ready.

Mazy was careful to notice the streets she went down. She could easily imagine herself getting lost, so she paid close attention.

The Tower of London was a good marker for her, as the White Tower was the tallest building near the alehouse, just south of her new home. She could also see the spire on the top of St.Paul’s Cathedral. The cathedral was easily visible from wherever she walked, as the church was built upon the highest hill in London. Her father had told her it had taken three hundred years to build. She longed to go inside it, as John had been in a hurry when they arrived and did not let her go in. It didn’t look terribly far. It would probably take her less than half an hour to walk there.

As she walked the streets Mazy noted all the colorful signs, passing the Green Dragon where they had slept their first night in London, its wooden sign carved and painted with a dragon breathing fire. She saw other signs for the Sword and Shield, the Ram’s Head, the Hammer, the White Knight, and the Rooster. Mazy loved them all.

When she finally arrived at St.Paul’s Cathedral, she strained her neck looking up at the breathtaking structure, its intricately carved facades and tall spire. Finally, when she’d taken in the outside, she covered her head with her shawl and entered.

It was so quiet she could hardly believe she was still in London. The ceilings were incredibly high, and the stained-glass windows were colorful scenes of people and animals, recognizable storiesshe had read to her father from the Bible. She took in every beautiful colored glass window, every carving, every statue and bust and crucifix, the painted frescoes, the arches, the polished floors. They all seemed to fill her spirit until her feet were barely touching the floor.

The hush was reverent. Everything about the cathedral made her heartbeat slow down, her breathing deepen. As she slowly proceeded farther in, Mazy placed a small coin in the box for the poor and genuflected before the crucifix, making the sign of the cross. She walked all the way to the chancel and knelt, bowing her head. She whispered a prayer beside a few other women who were kneeling there.

How incredible that man could make such a magnificent structure. It must surely be the power of God working through those who built this cathedral, for even Strachleigh Castle paled in comparison, a mere house next to this glorious homage to the God of heaven.

After Mazy had prayed for a while and lit a candle, she walked slowly around the nave, taking a longer look at everything—the ceiling, the windows, the statues. She understood why men became priests, so they could work and live in awe-inspiring places like this, worshipping and serving God, always mindful of His majesty because of the majesty surrounding them.

When more people came in, Mazy decided to depart, but she hoped to return again soon, and often.

Back on the street and feeling more confident that she would not get lost, since she could see the White Tower across from her home, she explored some of the streets near St.Paul’s Cathedral.

She happened upon a marketplace that was much larger than the one near the Swan. John had forgotten to leave her more money when he left, so she had taken her own coin purse to purchase a stool or a bench to sit on, and perhaps even a couple of mattresses, though she knew not how she would carry them back home.

She tried to find what she needed, but there were so many people, more people than she had ever seen in her life. The smell of raw fish, smoked meat, and unwashed bodies, along with the sounds of shouting and people haggling over prices, overwhelmed her.

A woman brushed against Mazy’s side.

“Pardon me,” Mazy said. The woman said nothing, did not even turn to look at her, and continued on her way.

Other people bumped into her until Mazy learned to stop asking for pardon and longed for wide-open spaces. The walkways between the market stalls were too narrow to pass through without occasionally touching someone, and Mazy seemed to be the only one who tried hard to avoid it.

A man’s shoulder hit her in the back. He turned, scowled at her, then walked on.

Perhaps she should have stayed in the cathedral where she’d felt so peaceful just half an hour before. But she needed things for their new home. What would John think if she did nothing all day while he was out guarding the king?