The Jester

Two guards from the stairs ran my way, their swords raised. I forced myself through a set of heavy doors and bolted them shut behind me. I ran deeper into the royal chambers. I had never been in here before.

I knew I would die here. At any moment I expected a blade to tear into my back, to see my own blood spilling out onto the floor. No matter. All that was important to me was to ask my lady, Why?

I stormed deeper into her quarters. The bedroom. An engraved wooden table with a washbasin, tapestries hung on the walls. A vast, draped oak bed, larger than I had ever seen.

But empty. No one was there.

“Goddamn you,” I shouted in frustration. “Why my family? Why us? Someone tell me!”

I stood there not knowing what to do next. I saw myself in my fool’s costume, blood spattered on my face. Why, why, why?

Suddenly a door opened beside me. I held my knife, expecting to face A

[227] But it was neither.

For a moment, I felt as if I were back on the road to Treille, blinking out of the haze, and all the things that had happened since-Norcross, St. Cécile, Sophie’s death-were just figments of a dream, terrors that could be washed away with a soft word.

I stared at Emilie’s face.

She gasped, her eyes fastened on my blood-spattered clothes. “My God, what has happened to you?”

Chapter 76

“SOPHIE’S DEAD,” I whispered.

She stared at me, transfixed. Then she moved forward to support me. “What has happened? Tell me.”

“The duke’s men have had her all along, Emilie. Sophie has been here… Not in Treille, with my enemies, but here, in the tower, among my friends.”

“This ca

“It can, Emilie. It is the truth.” I leaned myself back against the wall. “There are no more games to play. No more pretexts. It ends now.”

Shouts and pounding sounded at the door I had bolted. What a wretched sight I must have made. My clothes torn, slick with blood, the look of madness in my eyes.

“A

The commotion outside the door grew louder. A

“It is too late. The time for kindness is finished. There is nothing left for me now but to face her men.”

She put her face inches from my own. I could feel Emilie’s breath on my cheek. “Whatever you’ve done, if A

Emilie hurried me out of the room, down a narrow corridor in the royal quarters. She pushed me into a small chamber and quickly barred the door. I could see she was afraid, and it touched me deeply.

Emilie searched through a drawer and found a heavy brown cloak, which upon closer inspection proved to be the robe of a monk. “Here… I thought at some point you might need it to gain access to the tower. Put it on.”

I stared at it, confused, amazed that Emilie did this for me.

“Go now. They will search every room. Send me word. Through Norbert. You have friends here; you must believe that.”

A moment later, I was no longer a jester but a monk, the hood pulled over my head.

“Your new pretext.” Emilie smiled bravely.

I took a deep breath. “I fear this one will be a greater trick than before.”

“Then let me add to it,” Emilie said. She pulled me close by the collar and, to my surprise, pressed a quick, hard kiss upon my lips.

My blood came to a halt. The softness of her lips, the boldness of her touch. I felt my knees lock, the breath massed inside my chest. In truth, I didn’t know what to feel at that moment. My head spun.

She looked into my eyes. “I know your pain is deep. I know every part of you cries out to revenge your wife and child. But, [230] common or noble, there is a specialness within you. I saw it the first time I looked into your eyes. And I have never seen it waver since. We will find a way to right these wrongs. Now go.”

There was a small window above her bed. Below, it was only a short jump to the courtyard. From there, the gardens…

I hoisted myself up and pushed through a leg. I looked out and saw the darkened shadows of roofs in the distance. I looked back into Emilie’s face. “By what luck, lady, have I earned you as a friend?”

“By leaving, right now. This instant.”

I smiled and lifted myself through the narrow window. I turned. “I hope, in all the world, to see you again.”

There was a pounding at her door. I waved at Emilie, then dropped from the window.

“You will, Hugh De Luc,” I heard her say from above. “If you hope that… you will.”

Chapter 77

THE AFTERNOON SUN BATHED the field. A

At her sides, two formations of Borée’s infantry bearing the duke’s crest stood in even rows. Ba

A shiver of dread went through A

She had been married to him since she was sixteen, almost half her life. She had been betrothed as a sign of alliance between her family’s duchy, Normandy, and Stephen’s father. But if this union had fostered trust and commerce between the two duchies, it had created only isolation for her.

Once she bore him his son, Stephen forgot her, coming only when he tired of his whores from town. When she resisted, she felt the stab of his powerful fingers on her neck or the scrape of the back of his hand.

Though she kept up the appearances of court and family that were her duty, she felt only contempt for Stephen, trapped as she was in the prison women were confined to-even duchesses and queens. She felt old, so much older than her years. The time when he was away had almost freed her. But now, knowing he was near, she felt the fears return.

[232] Up ahead, a formation of about twenty knights appeared over a knoll, traveling slowly, their war-worn helmets barely glinting in the sun.

“Look, my lady.” Bertrand Morais, the duke’s chatelain, pointed. “There they are. The duke returns.”

A cheer rose from the men.

So he is back. A

A

“God’s grace to Stephen,” the chatelain shouted, “duke of Borée. He has returned.”