Chapter 30 Aubert
Aubert
Idid not have to employ my special abilities to overhear Lucas whispering to Benoit, “Is he mad?”
While I did not know the answer to that question, it was not one I was keen to ask myself. As a child, I had been quiet and slow to speak, hence accused of being simple-minded. But as soon as I surpassed my parents’ teachings in herbistry and alchemy, no further accusations came my way.
Still, meeting Gunnar was an unsettling reminder that faerie gifts came with a price more often than not.
I was half-tempted to try to intercede on his behalf, but Guillaume caught my arm and held me back as our party began to wind our way towards the city, Comrade in the lead.
Milord conferred with guards at the entrance to the path, and then we proceeded inward and upward.
“A word,” he murmured. I knew he could be deathly silent when he wanted to be; the fact that he was taking no such care now either reflected his knowledge that he was the most dangerous being around, or that I had the keenest hearing, hence he was not worried about others overhearing our conversation.
“Is something amiss?” I asked, staying near Guillaume as we began winding our way up into the city on the hill.
Acquiring lodgings up there as opposed to in the town that blossomed out from the hilltop city, tents and newly-sprouted buildings unfurling like leaves, would be expensive.
But money seemed to be no issue for our lord…
or Milord, as I had taken to privately calling her.
“No more than usual in this bizarre assortment of faerie freaks,” he practically growled.
“I will confer with the new men tonight if Benoit does not, since I assume the Chevalier wishes to maintain her masquerade with them. Once we know they also have her well-being and interests as priorities, we will decide how to proceed.”
We began the ascent to the hilltop city, walking in pairs up the sloped paths that wound up around its periphery. The stonework was old, and the city’s perimeter not that large to begin with, leading me to surmise that the city had been relying on outlying farmlands for decades or longer.
“That seems reasonable,” I agreed. I should not have been surprised that Guillaume had gravitated towards me as his confidant, for I was likely the only one of our company to have also been used as an assassin, however unwillingly. But he was so often at odds with Milord, and I—ah.
The thought almost stopped me in my tracks. He did not know of how I had comforted Milord after witnessing the massacre. Once he found out, doubtless I would be categorized differently in his mind, as someone who had yielded all too easily to her feminine charms.
A second thought hit me—Lucas and Benoit seemed the opposite of Guillaume, as drawn to her as he was repelled. Did they lay any claim to her? Had I made a misstep? The possibility chilled me, though we were in full sun.
I did not wish to conceal the truth from Benoit or Lucas.
Nor Guillaume. However, I did not wish to lose his esteem in particular.
I ran my hair through my fingers, pulling out a spare twig or two.
Spending prolonged periods within walled cities did not appeal to me, but I had agreed to serve Milord and would do so at any personal cost to myself.
Gaining revenge on Matapa for killing my parents, and in turn making me a killer, would only reinforce the sweetness of a job well done.
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
Guillaume made a frustrated noise beside me, and when I turned to look at him, I saw that the blindfold was down, but he was pinching the bridge of his nose atop it.
“I should not be seen here,” he muttered. “There are only suspicions about my role as Matapa’s prime assassin, but there is a chance someone else from his court—like you—has made his way here and could identify me.”
Now I understood the reason for his frustration: he was not one to stand by and let others do the work for him.
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Fear not, friend, for I shall be your eyes and ears. Few in this land know my face, and so I can pass among merchants and farmers and servants alike to gather information.”
He shrugged off my hand, but his face was not entirely scrunched into a scowl, so I took that as affirmation that my suggestion was a helpful one.
One thing chilled me, though.
If it had occurred to Guillaume to use me as a spy, no doubt it would have occurred to others. If I had not won my freedom from Matapa by poisoning his parents, I very well could have found myself reporting to his spymaster, coerced into using my hearing to learn the machinations of others.
Choosing to do so when asked was one thing. Being forced was another.
I disliked that vision of my possible past. If we failed to remove Matapa from power, it was also a portent of my future, a thought that also thrust ice against my skin, so powerfully unpleasant was it.
We passed the rest of the walk into the city in silence, or at least, silence among us.
A variety of sounds assaulted my ears: humans, livestock, carrion birds, beasts of transport, and more.
Wagon wheels aplenty creaked their way up and down the paths, for there were more; this was simply one of the entrances to Laons.
Comrade, thankfully, led us to an inn on the outskirts.
As with many of the buildings there, I gathered, it had been built as a household for one family and then converted into lodgings for many.
And the horse’s faerie wisdom doubtless was instrumental in leading us to the perfect place: a sprawling one-story estate, clearly built by someone who loved horses, as the stables were fairly central to the rest of the building, along with kitchens and other communal facilities, while the rooms intended for private use bordered the interior, leaving plenty of open courtyard space to be enjoyed.
The Chevalier rented the entire place out for us, and fortunately, it came with kitchen staff and grounds staff.
I wistfully peered at the garden that lined one of the interior walls, listening for the sounds of plants growing, and was rewarded with the tiny creaking and crackling noises of leaves rotating to catch the most sunlight, as it was well past midday.
After making the arrangements, the Chevalier gathered us, since some had gone off to explore all the corners of the place. It seemed likely that Guillaume and Benoit had been doing a security sweep, while I had been content to kneel down in the dirt and simply be.
I rose, brushing dirt off my trousers.
We met in the stables, and the Chevalier proceeded to tell us that she had told the staff only to enter the stables when summoned.
“I inferred to them that you, my men, would care for my horse and any other horses we acquire. This gives us the needed privacy to confer with Comrade without arousing suspicion about, well…” she glanced at Comrade and trailed off.
The horse snorted.
“My faerie nature is bound to upset some folk, yes.”
My eyes went immediately to Gunnar, the newest among us. He wasn’t even looking at the horse; he was standing in the doorway of a stall, his arms reaching overhead for the doorframe, to stretch his torso out long. His amber gaze roamed elsewhere.
No response from the man; I wondered if he was halfway comatose and would require an herbal digestif after that feat of eating.
“And in my role as advisor, here is my advice: Strong Back, Fleet Foot, Good Shot, Quick Ear, Impetuous, Drinker, and Glutton, you should keep your faerie gifts hidden from everyone else. No one outside our circle should know about your extraordinary abilities.”
We all nodded, even Gunnar, who seemed in a world all his own. It was not clear what King Aristide’s policy was regarding our kind, but enough common folk had shied away from us, or so I had learned during fireside conversations with the rest, that it seemed wise to take precautions.
“Furthermore, my advice is to—” but before the horse could continue, Milord cut him off.
“No, Comrade.” She stepped away from the horse and started unfastening the sleeves on her magnificent coat.
“I know not why you have counseled so much secrecy, but I will not keep secrets from my men. Some know already, and if I would have the rest follow me into battle, I would be honest with them.”
She removed her coat, letting it drop to the floor, and let the neckline of her white shirt loosen, showing a sharp line of pale flesh midway down her sternum.
Her chest appeared flat, though with the hint of visible minor pectoral sculpting one might expect of a trained warrior.
There was also, of course, the locket on its leather loop, a bloody rag binding it shut.
The enchantment fell with a dull thud, one I suspected was audible only to my ears. Without anything else changing, the figure in front of us had shifted; once again, I suspected Guillaume had a unique experience of this, given his gifts.
There she stood, glowing in her natural beauty: sky-blue eyes that were now softer and more rounded than in her male guise, framed by light brown lashes.
Her blond hair was ever so slightly wavy, nowhere near as unruly as mine, still tied back in a tail.
Her facial features had gone from gallant to gorgeous, softened in a dozen ways I could barely articulate.
Her shirt had filled out a little, giving the pendant somewhere to nestle that was more curve than muscle.
When she spoke again, with her previous words spoken so soon before, my ears sorted the ways in which the enchantment had deepened her voice. But it was still distinctively hers, rather more feminine in this guise.
“My name is Belle-Belle and I am the youngest daughter of a nobleman on the frontier. He had no sons to send in response to the king’s request to fulfill his oath of fealty, and thus I went.
A faerie gifted me with this magical clothing and everything I could need in a trunk, enchanted to change my semblance to that of a man.
Comrade, too, was given to me then, as both friend and counselor.
He urged me to take all seven of you into my company, towards what ultimate purpose I know not, but I am grateful for your presence. ”
She paused, turning around the room slightly to take the time to look each of us in the eye.
When our eyes met, I gave her a small smile and nod, indicating my affection and support.
She was already proving herself so different than Matapa; I had no doubt that she would be a worthy mistress to serve… and perhaps more.
“Some of you have already become my trusted confidants and friends. I do not require professions or acts of loyalty beyond those already pledged, and I do not wish there to be hierarchy or strife among us. Once we help King Aristide regain his kingdom, we may dissolve our fellowship, but until then, I must ask you to keep my sex a secret, and to hide your gifts as well.”
Guillaume glanced once at me before speaking.
“This is amenable to me, as I have no wish to betray our covenant, and I have no doubts that my presence could be construed as a threat, and thus I suggest that those of us who may be perceived as more dangerous maintain residence here, while others with more innocuous gifts may assist in your duties with the king.”
Milord—Belle-Belle, I mentally corrected myself, now that I knew her name—took a moment to think before nodding.
“That is sensible, Guillaume. Some of you may blend in better with the staff and courtiers already here, while others might stick out. Please continue to veil your gifts, but I will let you decide whether or not to attend me while I am at court.”
Some murmuring ensued among all but Gunnar, who seemed still in his own imagination.
Guillaume again shot me a look, and I made sure I was not focusing solely on the sounds in the stable, as enrapt as I was in the proceedings of the conversation. The last thing we needed was to be interrupted by a well-meaning servant while Milord appeared all too feminine.
Soon it was agreed that Lucas, Matteo, and I would attend Milord regularly at court as we were among the least threatening in appearance, while Benoit, Guillaume, and Kai would hang back more often than not.
Gunnar was not mentioned, for he did not seem to have manners suitable to the court, though I supposed if I could develop them, so could he.
I had to hide my tremble at the thought of venturing into court on the pretense of being uninvolved in the entire affair with Matapa; what would Milord do if she ever learned that I, too, had already had dealings with Matapa?
Gunnar was left out of the conversation, though I suspected Milord would not let him stand apart for long; her heart was big, and regardless of her degree of intimacy with us each, I surmised she desired friendship and camaraderie among her men as a bare minimum.
Fortunately, I was still casting my attention widely, and thus I heard something.
“Hasten to dress yourself once more,” I urged. “Someone is coming.”
A timid tap at the door soon followed.
We ceased our discussion, and eight human heads and one horse head whipped around to stare at the intruder.
It was a young page from the king’s court.
“Excuse me, Milord,” he said, with a slight hesitation. “The king wishes you to attend court for the afternoon audience, and again tonight, for a soiree welcoming all the nobles. If you would be so kind as to follow me to the palace once you are in good array.”
“Thank you,” Milord said kindly. “Pray give me a few minutes to assign my men to their duties before returning in your company.”
It did not escape my notice that Guillaume had ducked into the shadows when the page had approached.
I began to wonder if he had more than one reason for wishing to escape notice at court, but then, I also felt a great deal of trust from him as he had tasked me with being the ears in his stead.
Perhaps he only wished to avoid the machinations we would all soon no doubt fall prey to, for given what I had heard of court, it was only a matter of time before we would each become embroiled in the intrigues of power-hungry nobles.