“He is my betrothed,” said Liaze. “And I am out to find him.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Your betrothed?”
“Oui.”
“How came this to be? I mean, when did you meet him? And where? And under what circumstance?”
“I met him when he fell off his horse,” said Liaze. “And as to where, it was in the Autumnwood. And the circumstances were that a raiding party of Redcap Goblins and Trolls were on my grounds and coming toward my chateau. Luc, though wounded in a running battle with them, sounded the warning, and we managed to repel the marauders.”
“Have you any proof of what you say?”
“I have his horn and Deadly Nightshade and much of Luc’s gear. I also know that you raised Luc, but you are not his true sire, but a foster sire instead. I know you disguise yourself as a simple woodcutter when you are anything but. Too, I know about Luc’s tutors and his training in arms and armor and combat, and in etiquette, and dances, and other such courtly things.”
“What does he wear about his neck?”
“A blue stone set in silver on a silver chain.”
Leon nodded, and the kettle over the fire began to steam. He got to his feet and swung the bronze pot-arm from over the flames and took the kettle from it, and poured steaming water into the teapot. He replaced the kettle on the arm and sat down. As the tea steeped, again Leon nodded to himself as if coming to a decision.
“You are right, my lady, in that I might know why a witch has stolen Luc away from you. And if I am correct, it does not bode well for him.”
“Tell me,” said Liaze.
“First, my lady, you have the advantage of me: you know my name, but I-”
“Liaze of the Autumnwood.”
“Liaze,” repeated Leon, absently, as if his thoughts were not on her name. He took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. Again he nodded to himself. “Luc’s real sire was Comte Amaury du Chateau Bleu dans le Lac de la Rose et Gardien de la Cle. But Amaury was slain in combat, yet he left behind Comtesse Adele and his newborn son: Luc.
“A year after Amaury’s death, Adele married Guillaume, a vicomte with ambitions of being a duke or a king, and, with hopes of becoming a full comte, his marriage to Comtesse Adele was a step along that royal road.
“But Luc was and is the rightful heir, as evidenced by the gemstone the boy wore about his neck, an amulet given to the wee babe by Amaury just before he rode to battle.”
Leon paused and poured tea through a strainer into the mugs, and offered honey to Liaze. She spooned in a dollop and stirred it, then gave over the jar and utensil to Leon, who did likewise.
Leaving his cup sitting idle, Leon continued: “Guillaume would have none of that, for as long as Luc was alive, the vicomte could never become the comte of Chateau Bleu. Furthermore, his three-year-old brat of a son could not inherit the title unless Luc were dead.”
A dark look came over Leon’s face, and he said, “In Guillaume’s retinue was an unsavory man by the name of Franck, and he wished to take my place as armsmaster of the hold. Guillaume and Franck always had their heads together whenever Comtesse Adele was seen cooing over Luc, and I knew then that ill deeds were afoot, and I said so to the comtesse. Yet she did not believe that Guillaume could harm such a sweet child, and she nearly dismissed me. So I kept quiet and watched.
“One night to take air I came to the battlements and saw the ward was absent, all men gone. I turned to go to the guard quarters, but then I saw someone galloping across the causeway, and he had a bundle in his arms.
“I ran to the stables and took the courier horse, for it was always saddled, and over the downed drawbridge and across the causeway I raced after. Ah, my lady, to make a long story short, I came upon Franck in the woods just as he was preparing to slay Luc, for that was the bundle Franck bore. Even as he drew his knife to kill the babe, I threw my dagger and saved the boy. Ere Franck died he cursed me, and said that there were more who were prepared to carry out Guillaume’s wishes.”
Leon drew a long shuddering breath and tried to master his relived rage, for as he had told the tale, Liaze could see he had experienced it again.
Leon stared into his cup of tea, yet lost in the memory, and he growled, “Guillaume.”
Liaze nodded and said, “What a wicked stepfather he was.”
“Indeed,” said Leon, looking up from his cup and across at her. “Because of him, I knew the child would never be safe as long as Guillaume was in the castle, and so I rode away with the babe in my arms.
“And though I hid Franck’s corpse in the bushes and under brush and leaves, I knew that it would be discovered by the trackers’ dogs. But since they would not find Luc, I also knew that Guillaume would send killers after the child, at that time not quite a year and a half old. By devious ways, up streams and down and over stone, to throw trackers and dogs off the scent, with the lad I came here, where I took on the guise of a simple woodcutter in this place far from Luc’s rightful home-the Blue Chateau on an isle in the middle of the Lake of the Rose.
“By happenstance, a trusted former soldier of mine-Jaquot, a courier-was living just up the road in the village of Honey Creek. Through him, I did send word to the comtesse that Luc was safe in my care. By this time, in the aftermath of the stolen child, she had discovered what Guillaume had done, for she heard him talking to one of his henchmen. Still she could do nothing to oppose him.
“Further, she told me that I had been blamed for the taking of the child, and that ‘brave’ Franck had gone after me, but that I, in a dastardly act of murder, had stabbed him the back. She said that Guillaume had placed a price on my head, and the man who killed me could claim the reward.”
Leon gritted his teeth and said, “And so, I am a murderer and fugitive in my own realm.”
The armsmaster fell silent and stared bitterly into his tea, but after a moment he sighed and said, “Regardless, I raised the lad as my own, making certain to teach him all I knew of arms and armor and combat and other such things. And the comtesse secretly sent funds for me to hire tutors, and to set up a bookstore in the village so that the child could broaden his knowledge. She wanted him raised as a proper gentleman, knowing all the noble arts of a man of his station, and I did my best. Why, I even hired etiquette advisors and dance instructors so that he would be completely at home in any court in Faery.”
As Leon paused to take a long draught of tea, Liaze said, “You did very well, Sieur Leon. Luc is truly a noble gentleman.”
Leon turned a hand, palm up, and a fleeting smile showed he was pleased by her remark. Even so, it was immediately replaced by a worried frown. After a moment he said, “Throughout the years, by Jacquot-who took on the guise of a bookstore owner in Honey Creek-I sent secret reports to the comtesse of Luc’s progress.”
“Ah,” said Liaze, refreshing her own tea and Leon’s.
Nodding his thanks, the armsmaster continued: “When Luc came into his majority, the comtesse sent Deadly Nightshade with arms and armor as a gift, for both she and I would have him become as was his true sire: a worthy chevalier and a comte, as Luc was meant to be.
“I sent him on errantry, to gain experience, for before he can face that man who would be a comte and more, Luc must needs win his spurs in single combat or in the battle of war and become a true knight, and then would I tell him of his rightful heritage.”
Liaze raised a hand to stop his words and said, “But he is a true knight, Armsmaster Leon. He accounted for more than twenty Redcap Goblins in battle and slew a Troll as well, and he alerted my manor to the oncoming threat. I knighted him myself.”
Leon frowned. “And just who are you to have done so?”
Her voice taking on imperious authority, Liaze declared, “Je suis Princesse Liaze de la Foret d’Automne, la fille du Roi Valeray et la Reine Saissa. And in my demesne I am the sovereign, the absolute ruler, and knighting someone who has proved himself in battle is mine to do.”