Chapter 18
Roland had never seen his older brother so resolute or quiet.
Amaury had always been a competent fighter and one who readily accomplished his objectives, but it was his gift to make any feat appear simple.
There was always a twinkle in his eyes and a charming ease to his manner, one that might have led another to believe that he was less responsible than he was.
Not so on this night. The brothers moved in silence and stealth, circling around Chateau Marnis to the side furthest from their camp.
On this side, there was the dark stillness of the moat against the keep’s walls and very few lights.
Unoccupied land stretched into the distance, hilly and so heavily forested that few lived there.
Roland had thought their quest was one of reconnaissance, though when his brother shed his dark cloak, it was clear that Amaury wore no hauberk. His tunic was deep red, the red of Marnis, and it was only then that Roland guessed his true objective.
Amaury was assessing the distance to the summit of the lowest wall, and eying the few darkened windows high above. He unwound the rope that he had wrapped over his shoulder, with a grappling hook secured to one end.
“I will come with you,” Roland said, but Amaury shook his head. They conferred very quietly, so quietly that no one could have overheard them.
“In this moment, you are the heir to Montvieux,” Amaury reminded him. “You will defend the future by remaining out of peril.”
“But…”
“And I am yet the Lord de Montvieux, and thus you will follow my instruction.” Amaury granted his brother a look so fierce that Roland’s protests were silenced.
“I intended to make you Captain of the Guard, but in my absence, you will be lord yourself. If and when Sebastian returns, a responsibility will do much good for him. He may make a good Captain of the Guard in your stead.”
Roland frowned at the ground. He did not want to even think of Montvieux without Amaury.
Amaury continued. “The Count has four fine daughters and an alliance between our houses would be welcome. I intended to speak to him about a match between you and one of those daughters, but in my absence, you will have to initiate that discussion. I believe you will find him amenable, and his daughters, as well. Go there for a week and choose wisely.”
“As you have done?”
“As I have done,” Amaury agreed, acknowledging no accusation. “Though not through any scheme of my own, it must be said. I have been fortunate. You should contrive your own luck.”
Fortunate? Roland could not believe that Isabella had brought his brother aught but strife, but Amaury continued quietly.
“I also intend to award Philip with his spurs at Easter. I ask you to see that done in my stead. You might train with him more over the winter as he has not engaged in as much hand-to-hand combat as would be ideal. And when the masons arrive, confer with Oswald about the plans for the construction. He has been the one most like to discuss the possibilities with me. You can always rely upon the advice of Stefan, the miller. He is a most sensible man, and one with a long memory of village events and precedents. You know where the seals and the treasury are hidden.” This last was accompanied by a piercing glance.
Roland nodded.
Amaury weighed the hook, then stepped back to spin it and cast it upward.
It caught on the edge of the wall on the first attempt. Of course, it did. All aligned with Amaury’s desires and vexed his own. Roland felt his lips thin.
Amaury tugged the rope to test it and nodded satisfaction. Then he turned to offer his hand to Roland.
“You say farewell, but you will return,” Roland said, hearing the fear in his voice. “You must!”
Amaury shook his head. “My lady says I will not leave this place alive if I pursue her, and in matters of Marnis, she is invariably right.”
Roland’s throat tightened. “Do not do this, Amaury,” he entreated. “She bade you not to do this.”
“And yet, there is no choice. I cannot abandon her.”
Roland shook his head, but his brother put a hand upon his shoulder.
“Be not afraid, Roland. All will be as God wills it. You cannot recall the time that Maman was stolen for ransom, much less Father’s anguish, but I do.
Since then, I have been certain that the worst weakness would be to surrender one’s heart to another, for the resulting vulnerability can be readily exploited.
” He shook his head. “But now I understand that to love another with such vigor that one’s own welfare becomes irrelevant is a gift beyond all expectation.
It is a taste of heaven on earth, Roland, and a blessing.
” He smiled. “I have been so blessed, and as a result, there is no choice on this day.”
Roland struggled against a tide of emotion, but Amaury embraced him quickly.
“Go,” Amaury said. “Go back to the camp and on the morrow, ride out in the lead, on my horse, in my tabard, for you may well be Lord de Montvieux by then.” He removed the signet ring he had placed upon his own finger earlier that day and pressed it into Roland’s hand.
“Remember always to honor Father’s memory with your choices and all will be well. ”
Nay, from this day forth, Roland would honor Amaury’s example with his choices.
He could not summon a word to his lips. He could only watch as his brother swung into the air, then climbed the wall with a prowess he could not have matched.
He watched until Amaury vanished over the lip of the wall above, until the rope was pulled up and vanished from view.
He stood a moment longer, filled with admiration for his brother and fearing for Amaury’s fate, then made his way back to the camp.
He would do as Amaury had instructed – but he would consider the signet ring to be his for safekeeping, not his possession or his right.
Though he respected his brother’s confidence, in this one instance, Roland heartily hoped that Lady Isabella would be proven wrong.
The drums ensured that no one slept within Chateau Marnis. By dawn, Isabella’s teeth were on edge. She had been restless all the night long. The keep was filled with unusual activity, and a sense of pending doom that was most distracting.
She had not been able to forget the past since her unwilling return to her old chamber. Her father’s ghost seemed present, or at least his malice filled the air. She remembered the day he willfully broke her ankle, and worse, his satisfaction when the bone cracked and she cried out in pain.
Such brutality had been a part of her life for so long that she had assumed all endured similar treatment. Amaury had shown her otherwise and now, her father’s cruelty was impossible to ignore or forget.
Worse, she was trapped within Marnis with those who knew him best and shared his views. She did not doubt that Faydide would injure another for her own gain, nor Mallory. She doubted there could be either escape or reprieve.
If only Amaury stayed away. If he remained safe, whatever she endured would be worth the price.
The smell of cooking food rose through the keep, making her realize her own hunger. How she wished she still possessed the poison stone! Isabella did not fear death but she would not choose to die in agony as her father had.
Yet the smell of roasting meat made her belly growl at its emptiness. How would she resist?
There was a knock upon her door and Isabella was hauled from her chamber by two guards.
The scent of cooking was even stronger and she expected to break her fast in the great hall.
Instead, she found Mallory and Faydide watching the encamped army from the windows on the other side of the corridor.
Mallory beckoned to her, and Isabella reluctantly moved closer to him.
The sound of the drums was louder and more relentless from this vantage point.
Edmund lurked in the shadows near the summit of the stairs, undoubtedly because he wished to observe whatever was said.
Had there ever been a more curious creature in this hall?
Isabella felt a surge of annoyance toward the older man, always watching, always untrustworthy, but she strove to hide her revulsion.
She studied the army near the small cluster of forest, but could not spot Amaury from this distance. She realized that Mallory was studying her with a smile. Then he stretched out his hand in expectation of some surrender.
Isabella knew precisely what he desired and she instinctively closed her hand into a fist to keep the ring of Marnis on her finger.
“I will cut off your finger to claim it,” Mallory said mildly and the two guards moved closer to Isabella, forcing her toward Mallory. That man calmly drew his knife and examined the blade. “Do not willingly choose to see yourself further marred.”
Isabella was aware that Edmund grinned, and Faydide watched. She removed the ring and granted it to Mallory, knowing he had need of the seal to complete his claim.
Mallory smiled as he placed the ring upon his finger, then admired it there. “Where is the seal?”
Isabella shrugged, as if she did not know, and Mallory struck her hard across the face. He moved so suddenly that she was surprised by the blow and staggered, blinking at the pain.
“It has always been said that you were clever, Isabella,” he said. “You might find it sensible to ally yourself with me in these times.”
“To what end?” she asked, keeping her tone mild. “You have already seized my legacy.”
He regarded her. “And yet there remains the matter of whether you live or die. The convent or the churchyard, Isabella, that is the choice before you.”
“And what of my lord husband?”
“Ah, that match will come to its end one way or the other. You might yet renounce him.”
“If I do not, he must die?”
Mallory smiled, then flicked a finger beneath her chin. “As clever as ever you were.”
Isabella’s heart chilled at these threats against Amaury. At least he was away from this place and too distant for Mallory to see him injured.