“The others?”
“The warband and houseguard and any of the staff who care to attend. In this grim task it will hearten them to see the chevalier who sounded the alert and roused the manor and thereby gave us time to prepare, as well as to see standing among them the princess to whom they owe fealty.”
Slowly they walked across the long lawn, Liaze now in an ermine-trimmed white cloak against the autumn chill; Luc in a blue long-coat of soft wool. Luc’s limp was becoming a bit more pronounced with the walk, for it was far to the site of the pyre.
“Oh, Luc, how thoughtless of me,” said Liaze. “I shall have a carriage come and fetch us back.”
“Non, Princess. It would not do to have the warband and houseguard see me that helpless. Fear not, I shall rally.”
Finally, they came in among the men, as well as other members of the staff, and therein Luc did not limp at all.
Before them a great pile of wood was waiting to be lit, from logs to branches to sticks to shavings. In the slanting light of the waxing half-moon and the glitter from the stars above, amid the heap of combustibles, Liaze could see corpses of Goblins here and there within, and atop lay the Troll slain by Remy, the large crossbow bolt still piercing him through. A sheen of oil lay over all, the moonlight glimmering thereon.
Remy handed Liaze a torch, and said, “Princess.”
“A torch for everyone!” Liaze called out.
Brands were lit and handed to all attendees, and they spread out to encircle the pyre.
Remy walked ’round the great heap, and when he came back to Liaze he said, “Ready, Princess.”
Liaze stepped forward, her torch held high and she cried, “Thus to all our enemies!” And she thrust the burning brand within and then stepped back.
At her side, Luc did likewise, as did Remy and the warband and Zacharie and the houseguard and the various members of the staff.
Slowly at first and then with a whoom! the massive pile caught fire, and a great plume of dark oily smoke rose into the starry night sky, moonlight and firelight illumining all, red from below, silver from above. And within the roar of the blaze they could hear a popping and sizzling.
“Quite savage,” murmured Luc to the princess.
“I know,” she whispered back, and reached out with trembling fingers and took his steady hand in hers.
v
9
That night, in her bed, thoughts of Luc spun all ’round Liaze: Why would anyone abandon him in the woods, and he nought but a babe? Mayhap he was stolen from someone and left in the forest to die. Mayhap his pere or mere, or whoever it might be, put him at a place where it was certain the woodcutter would find him.
And why would an armsmaster become a woodcutter? Was he simply tired of combat and took up a more peaceful occupation?
And this bookseller who never charged and perhaps couldn’t make a living in a village where few could read, what of him? Is he a fugitive in hiding?
And the teachers: were they willing to work for room and board and little else, or did the armsmaster have a stash of gold or silver or copper to pay them for Luc’s education?
And the training that Luc underwent: for what purpose? Did the armsmaster know that this babe that he had cared for would one day become a knight-errant? Perhaps that was the goal all along. Perhaps the armsmaster himself had been a chevalier, or mayhap he always wished to be one and is living out his dream through Luc.
And the horse and weapons: who and where did they come from? Remy says that the sword is of the best bronze, and Eugene tells me that the steed-Nightshade-is elegant and of great worth. He says that when he travelled in the mortal world, he saw such in Andalusia, though most were grey or white and some were bay and only a few were black, and the blacks are highly prized.
Is Luc telling the truth, or is he simply a charming rogue?
Rogue? Luc? No, I think not.
La, here I lie awake, consumed with thoughts of Luc, yet I wonder if he, too, is lying awake, mayhap thinking of me, mayhap as he first saw me.
Liaze flushed, and a surge of yearning filled her being. After a moment she rose from her bed and stepped to a basin and poured cold water from an ewer. She splashed the chill liquid on her face and neck and breasts, trying to cool down. She padded back to her bed and slid under the covers, yet she still felt the heat of a passion unquenched.
After long moments of tossing and turning, once more she rose, and this time went to the nearest window and drew wide the drapes and lowered the sash and threw open the shutters, and moonlight and air streamed in. In the brisk autumn night, she stood and looked out upon the manor grounds. Argent rays slanted across the sward below, the silver half orb low in the sky and nigh to setting. A ruddy dim light reflected against distant trees; red coals from the pyre yet lived. Below and pacing their rounds, two members of the houseguard strolled by, and Liaze drew back into the shadows, unwilling for them to see her standing nude in her window above.
Thoroughly chilled and leaving the window open, back to her bed she went, and, shivering, climbed under the covers for warmth. Yet in spite of the cold, her ardor had not diminished, and she felt the heat of it, and with thoughts of Luc-his eyes, his smile, his soft voice, his gentle and open way, and his long and lean body-it was quite a while ere she fell into a shallow and restless sleep.
“My lady, my lady, ’tis time to rise.”
The voice came from a distant place.
“My lady,” again came the call, this time seeming right at hand.
Liaze opened her eyes. Zoe stood at one of the windows, having just drawn back the remaining drapes and opened the shutters wide. Sunlight streamed in at a high angle.
Liaze yawned and stretched, Zoe suppressing a yawn in echo to Liaze.
“What mark is it, Zoe?”
“Midmorn, Princess,” said Zoe, holding out a robe. “You’ve slept quite late.”
“Oh, my,” said Liaze, scrambling from bed and slipping into the garment. “And here I thought I would never get to sleep.”
Zoe laughed and said, “Ah, visions of Luc kept you awake, eh?”
“Zoe!” exclaimed Liaze, and she headed for the bath, Zoe trailing behind and smiling unto herself, for the Princess had not denied Zoe’s claim.
“I wonder if he plays echecs? ” said Liaze as she slid into the warm water.
“Echecs?” asked Zoe.
“It is something amusing we can do and it will not tax his injuries.”
“Oh, my lady, isn’t there something else even more amusing that-”
“Zoe!” snapped Liaze, even as she reddened.
Zoe turned away from the princess, and grinning widely the handmaiden began fluffing a towel ere laying it across the fireguard.
“Why, yes, I do,” said Luc. “Pere Leon and I spent many an eve in the game.”
“My whole family plays echecs,” said Liaze. “It came to us through pere and mere. Of all of us, perhaps Borel is the best, but he met his match when Camille came into our lives.”
“Camille?”
“Alain’s new bride.”
“And Alain is your brother,” said Luc. “The one who was cursed.”
“Oui.”
Margaux came into the infirmary. “Princess, though this is but his second morn here, and though he is badly bruised, I believe Luc is fit enough to take other quarters.”
“Ah, splendid,” said Liaze. “We shall install him in the guest wing.”
“He will yet need treatment for his forehead and those awful knocks he took,” said Margaux. “Still, he can come here for the salves and the ointment and the drink.”
Luc groaned. “I will yet have to drink that evil concoction?”