Chapter 16
Quinn was not alone.
He was crouched beside the stag, ensuring it was dead, when he first heard the other horse.
He thought perhaps it was Niall or one of the boys, but could not imagine why they would remain hidden in the underbrush.
Anyone within earshot would have heard him pursue the stag, never mind his cry of triumph when the bolt struck home.
He moved with purpose, as if unaware, and listened.
He gutted the stag, leaving the offal for other creatures in the forest, then slung it over the back of his saddle.
Fortitude flared his nostrils and stamped a foot, but Quinn took his time ensuring that the deer was securely bound.
He went all around Fortitude, scanning the forest as he moved.
He spied the rider’s silhouette, then a flick of cloth.
A cloak?
Caparisons?
The hair prickled on the back of his neck with the awareness that he was watched.
He swung into the saddle again and turned Fortitude back toward the path.
He had planned to meet the others there and hoped they had been fortunate as well.
He kept his hand on his crossbow and gave no indication that he heard the twig snap to his right.
From the periphery of his vision, he glimpsed the rider again.
Caparisons.
Gold with a black insignia. How Quinn wished he recognized it.
He was considering the merit of raising his voice and greeting the other rider, when he heard galloping hoof beats from the path.
He straightened and saw the flicker of the other horse moving through the undergrowth.
The horse cantered and then galloped, but the arriving horse was turned in its course.
Quinn quietly followed the sound of hoof beats.
“Arnaud!” Melissande cried and Quinn’s heart stopped cold. He did not move. “Arnaud de Privas! I thought those were your colors!” Her tone was charming and light, as if she welcomed a guest to Annossy. He must hear this conversation.
He found his lady upon her palfrey in a stream, facing a knight on a dapple destrier with golden caparisons.
Her palfrey stepped with agitation, as if disliking that they stood in the flow of water.
Quinn wondered if it was aware of its rider’s mood.
Melissande rode the same palfrey often and though she smiled, he sensed a tension in her.
Because she feared discovery?
Or because she feared Arnaud? Quinn dismounted, left Fortitude, and eased closer. He circled around the pair to a better vantage point, glad of the sound of the water. He halted where he had a clear view of Arnaud.
He loaded a bolt into his crossbow, more than prepared to use it.
He must strike Arnaud in the throat to ensure the blow was fatal, for the other knight wore his armor.
Indeed, Arnaud had not even abandoned his helmet, which was vexing.
It was a narrow target and Quinn could have done without the undergrowth in between them.
He would have one shot and he would make it count.
He tried to ease closer in silence and still remain unseen.
“Whatever are you doing here?” Melissande asked lightly.
“And where is here?” her companion replied.
Melissande laughed lightly. “Sayerne, of course.”
“But not so far from Privas, surely?”
“I suppose not, though surely that keep is abandoned.”
“But my family legacy, all the same. I ride to hunt but have lost my party.” He gave a little laugh. “The boar was doughty and I could not resist the chance to take him. I outran my entire party in the pursuit.”
“By considerable distance, it appears,” Melissande said, looking left and right.
“Aye, that it does.”
“And yet, you have no boar,” she noted.
“Alas, he escaped. They are most wily when cornered.”
“How strange that I saw you hours ago, this morn, and you were close to this place and alone.”
Arnaud chuckled but Quinn heard his displeasure. “Who can say how long I have wandered?”
“Surely you did not spend the night in the forest?”
“Surely there are matters of greater interest than that,” Arnaud said, his tone steely.
“Surely not,” Melissande said, almost in an undertone, but Arnaud ignored her.
Quinn also found it curious that the other man had been in the forest in the morning. What was his scheme?
And what was Melissande’s?
Arnaud’s voice warmed. “And you look hale, my lady. How many years has it been?”
“At least twenty,” Melissande replied. “I should not have known you but I recognized your colors.”
So, they had not spoken of late. Quinn was reassured.
Unless, of course, this conversation was for his benefit.
“Aye, dear beloved Privas.” Arnaud sighed. “How fares wondrous Annossy?”
“Well enough. I suppose you have heard that I am wed.”
“To the son of Jerome de Sayerne.” Arnaud clicked his tongue. “A sad waste indeed.”
Melissande said naught at all.
“That is, of course, why I sought you out,” Arnaud continued.
“Here at Sayerne, but not at Annossy? How enterprising of you to surmise my location.”
Arnaud laughed.
Quinn was glad that Melissande did not.
“I have a proposition for you, Melissande.”
“I imagine that you do.”
“You do not look surprised.”
“I think I know your wager.”
“Then tell me of it and I shall tell you if you are right.”
“I think you mean to ensure the demise of my lord husband and thence to force me to become your wife.”
“Melissande! Surely you do not have to be compelled to keep your sworn word?” Arnaud’s tone was silky. “We were betrothed by our fathers’ choice.”
“And I was wed to Quinn by Tulley’s command. I carry his child. Tulley will not tolerate your interference in this matter, nor will he entrust you with Annossy and Privas, as well. He distrusts you, Arnaud, and I am persuaded to take his view.”
“You carry your husband’s child?” Arnaud repeated.
“Aye.” Melissande sat proudly and Quinn’s heart swelled at the sight of her.
“Even better,” Arnaud whispered. “Tulley will not be able to deny me Sayerne.” He moved with lightning speed, drawing his sword and slashing at Melissande’s palfrey.
The horse, perhaps with Melissande’s urging, retreated quickly, but stumbled on the rocks in the river bed.
It fell and Melissande fell from the saddle, catching herself on the low branches of an overhanging tree.
Arnaud slashed at the horse again and the palfrey ran, its reins trailing in the river.
Melissande was knee-deep in the water, watching Arnaud warily as her breath came quickly. Curse the woman, she was standing between Quinn and his target, ensuring that his shot was not clear.
“Join me,” Arnaud invited, his sword pointed now at her.
“Never,” she said with welcome heat. “Your scheme has failed, Arnaud. Quinn saw the truth of Gaultier’s deception, but I am the one who guessed that your true target was my lord husband. I will never aid you in attacking Quinn.” Now Melissande’s tone was hard.
“How sad that you make this choice,” he murmured.
“Just as you make yours. Recall your knightly vows, Arnaud, and lower your blade.”
“And is it a choice when a man must act against his own desire to survive?” Arnaud asked.
“You survived well enough.”
“Survived?” Arnaud cried. “After Tulley seized Privas, I starved. After Tulley took every denier of my legacy, I had naught, not even a steed. I would have died if I had not had my wits. Even then, he spread poisonous lies about my nature, spilling them into every listening ear. I had to go far, nigh all the way to Paris, then come back slowly and with stealth.”
“You did not have to come back at all.”
“Privas is my legacy.”
“Not when Tulley holds the seal.”
“And I will hold it again,” Arnaud snarled.
“Marie de Perricault was useful, then.”
“She was rich and had a title.” His tone was gloating. “And she admired me greatly, a sign of her exquisite taste.”
“Sadly, she was wedded.”
He smiled. “Not for long.”
“I thought she had another suitor, Gaultier de Lonvaux.”
“He was too young to appreciate her advantages. I lured him away from her with tales of Annossy and your beauty, my Melissande.”
“Mine!”
Arnaud winced. “Marie, sad as it may be, was no beauty, although she had her passions.”
“You speak of your lady wife as if she is no longer of this world.”
Quinn could not believe that Melissande was speaking at such length with this villain—and then he realized that she must know of his presence. She must be ensuring that he learned the full extent of Arnaud’s crimes.
She must guess that he would strike, and she wanted Quinn to have no doubts.
Zounds, but his lady wife knew him well.
“She might not be,” Arnaud said. “I will be a widower before the sun sets this day. I might be one already.”
“I do not understand.”
“Marie was very fond of her wine. When I left Perricault three days ago, I left an allotment for her from my personal store. Quite special wine. You will appreciate that when I tell you it is from Annossy. I opened it to ensure its quality for my lady wife, then added an herbal augmentation for her pleasure.”
“Poison,” Melissande whispered. “Is that how her husband died?”
Arnaud laughed. “His time had come, unfortunately.”
“But surely a physician will treat her?”
“Ah.” Arnaud shook his head. “Tragically, the physician has gone to Lyons to acquire supplies and will not return for a fortnight. No one will remember that I suggested it would be a good time for him to go.” He shrugged.
“No one recalled that I made the suggestion he make a similar journey just before Marie’s husband met his end. ”
“But twice in succession,” Melissande said. “Surely, someone will suspect foul play?”
“Marie always has a sour stomach. It is likely a result of her continuous overindulgence. Even if there is suspicion, I am far away at hunt.”
“You do not hunt boar,” Melissande accused.
Arnaud chuckled. “Nay, I do not.”
He leaned forward, eyes shining. “Take my wager, Melissande, for then you will live to see the morrow.”
“Never!” she spat and ducked.
Quinn did not hesitate. He loosed the bolt.