Chapter 15 Benoit
Benoit
“What did you do to her?” I growl-whispered at Guillaume.
It was late, Milord had gone to sleep, and there was but an ember left in the fire, but Guillaume had been staring resolutely at it for some time.
I repeated my question, and he finally turned to face me. His eyes were hollow, moreso than usual. I realized belatedly that he was going to shush me, since in the company of our newest man, the barest whisper could easily be overheard.
But instead, Guillaume addressed me, his gray eyes leaden.
“I pushed her too hard in training. I touched her. I tried to hint at the gravity of the situation…instead, she thought I was hinting at my affection for her. She kissed me, and I rebuffed her.”
He fell silent, his mouth a knife slash in the dark.
My heart raged in my chest at the thought of Milord feeling rejected, hurting, especially so soon after Lucas had tried to run from her.
She was still less experienced in the ways of intimacy than the rest of us, and while I suspected her heart could hold multitudes, she was too new in the arts of love to fully trust it.
I clenched my hands in my lap. Part of me wanted to reach out and violently shake Guillaume, but with his sharp vision, chances were good I’d end up with a knife in the side.
“Why?” I asked, my voice strangled. “Why refuse Milord?”
The question came out before I could censor it. I knew nothing but scorn awaited me.
To my surprise, Guillaume did not rebuff my question.
He paused, pushed the blindfold back over his eyes, and leaned back against a log.
“I am pledged to Milord in much the same manner as you; the Chevalier has my complete loyalty.”
He drew in a shuddering breath.
“But I have seen royals and nobles abuse their power, and worse. You cannot imagine half the things I have seen, Benoit. So, no, I shall not grace Milord’s bed soon or perhaps ever, not until I have seen Milord in action long enough to know that abuse of power is not within Milord’s purview.”
I pitied Guillaume in that moment, though I did not tell him so because I suspected he did not want my pity.
But I realized that I had little idea what he had gone through in the past. Lucas and I had become fast friends, and had confessed many details of our histories to one another soon after becoming intimate with Milord…
but what Guillaume had suffered? I did not even know the beginning of it.
“Peace, friend,” I murmured. “As long as you are loyal to Milord, that is all I care about. Lucas and I can comfort Milord as much as we are able. But you had another concern…?” I trailed off, not sure how much to say.
Guillaume whipped the blindfold off his face and leapt to his feet, a keen look in his eye.
“Yes, we should confront this threat sooner rather than later. I know where Aubert is foraging; tell Lucas to maintain watch at the campsite and let us go speak with the new man.”
I relayed all this to Lucas, promising to give him details both on Aubert and on Milord later on.
Then Guillaume led us outside the area illuminated by the campfire; with his blindfold lifted, he stumbled not once.
I did my best to follow his foot placement, but at least one log tangled with my ankle.
Aubert was seated in a nearby glade of trees, a small lantern casting shadows on his face while he plucked leaves from some plants in his lap. He did not look up as we approached; clearly he had heard us.
“You have questions,” he murmured, not lifting his eyes from his work.
“You can very well imagine that we do,” I snapped, and would have continued, had Guillaume not lifted a hand.
“Aubert, no more games. I know you were the path to Matapa’s power.”
I gaped at Aubert first, his blond hair shining in the feeble lantern light.
The man looked harmless, barely older than I, playing with herbs and flowers in a forest glade.
Then I glared at Guillaume—could he not have warned us?
Told us to dissuade Milord from seeking advice from Aubert?
As though any of us could presume to tell Milord what to do…
Aubert lifted his green eyes then. They caught the flickering flames of the lantern, and I realized then that I had mistaken his calm demeanor for a peaceful one, when in reality, there was an iron will beneath his gentle face.
“You are one to speak, Butcher.”
My heart dropped out from under me. I turned to stare at Guillaume, fully facing him with my body, ready to use it as a shield if I had to.
To let not one, but two dangerous men into the company and sworn service of Milord…how could I have failed not once, but twice?
The familiar voices whispered in the background of my mind, reminding me that I was a freak, an outcast, that I had lived alone since receiving my faerie gifts since none would take me as a companion.
Thus I had missed much of the wartime gossip, managing to have barely heard that which named the Emperor’s most ruthless assassin—he who was nicknamed Butcher—but missing any rumors that contained descriptions of him, or whether he had faerie gifts.
And to think, mere minutes ago, I had been on the verge of pitying Guillaume, urging him to reconsider his decision to forsake Milord’s bed.
My face hardened as I continued to look at him. I tried to form sentences but my tongue was leaden with horror and disbelief.
He turned away from Aubert and held out a hand towards me.
“Please, Benoit, believe me when I say that is a thing of my past. I loathe the Emperor as much as you, truly, if not more. I do not regret many of the deaths that occurred at my hands, but the ones he ordered me to carry out are among their number.”
“You…still…mean Milord no harm?” I ground out.
“Of course. Joining the Chevalier is one of my best chances at revenge against Matapa.”
This was almost too much for me to process. I had disliked Guillaume from the start, believing him to be colder than almost any man I’d met. Now I knew why. And for all that, the grudging respect for him that had been growing in me had not entirely dissipated.
If nothing else, he was a capable killer. And I had witnessed his oath on the faerie horse to serve Milord…so if he were truly bound to her, and I believed him to be, perhaps he would kill to defend her.
Pray that she never required it to stay safe.
“And you?” I asked, turning to Aubert.
The gentle-looking man heaved a sigh, his eyes downcast.
“I was young when Matapa found me and used me. He was young then too, not set to inherit the throne for many more years. My parents were also herbalists and they trained me. They refused to serve him, and I believe he had them killed. Then he gave me the choice to obtain the one thing I wanted most: freedom. If I helped him poison his parents, he would forsake all claim to me, and leave me alone for the rest of his lifespan.”
Aubert then raised his eyes to mine. Though still bright green, they were shadowed with grief as old as the moss on the trees surrounding us.
“I regret helping him. Of course I do. When I think of all the lives lost…I had to leave his lands. Still I travel, hoping to escape the sounds of the screams and cries of his victims. But as he expands his territory, the noises follow me. I take refuge in forests as much as possible, and I heard you coming this way. I do sincerely want to join you, and I want my revenge on Matapa as well, for killing my parents and for using me.”
Noting his mouth set in a resolute line, I nodded.
“We all want our chance at him. And we will need to shed these deceptions and truly work together if we are to have any hope at helping Milord serve the king in fighting Matapa. As soon as we can bring Lucas into this conversation, we will seek his insights as well.”
Once more, I looked at Guillaume. His lips tugged down in what I had assumed was a sneer or grimace, but what I now suspected was a scowl of suffering.
“When will you—?”
He cut me off.
“If I tell Milord too soon, I risk losing her trust. She will know this about me eventually, I swear it.” The skin around his eyes tightened. “I have much to atone for, but it must be on my own terms. Comrade would not have let me join the company if he had sensed ill intentions, I am sure.”
I wanted to trust him, but…and then my heart leapt once more.
Guillaume had called Milord “she”…and as I scrambled to figure out what to do about that, how much we needed to explain to Aubert, he simply smiled at me.
“Fear not, Benoit, I have known Milord is a woman for some time now. I overheard some of your conversations earlier along the road. I intend to keep this knowledge secret, of course. And knowing that a woman will be among those trying to drag Matapa down from his throne will only make the victory that much sweeter.”
Fearing that I had little more to contribute to the conversation than a gaping jaw, I took my leave of the two men.
I figured they might have private business to conduct, and that I might find their reminiscences of any past experiences spent serving under Matapa unpleasant at best. I returned to our camp site, still struggling with revulsion and pity for Guillaume, and curiosity and animosity for Aubert.
Lucas was awake, keeping watch as I had asked. His honey-brown eyes were large and fearful as I approached. I smiled, trying to put him at ease.
“We have much to discuss,” I said, whispering to keep Milord in a peaceful slumber. Her face was unlined, restful, and seemingly untroubled by the events earlier in the day. And if my idea worked, we could continue to restore her sense of confidence and calm.