Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, as the crew prepared for the day’s journey, a message from the Duke came from Chevalerie.
Riders had traveled day and night to reach them.
The poor boy who arrived with the parchment early in the morning, the last in the rally, collapsed off his horse once he handed the message to Philippe.
It seemed another two farms and a mill had been torched near Aliette, a town they had not yet reached.
The Duke was furious that these men were still at large.
He wanted to know Philippe’s progress. Had they identified their target? Had they any leads at all?
The letter spurred Philippe into action.
He should have been up there by now. From the day they set foot out of Chevalerie, he should have charged up the countryside with hell’s fury and chased the criminals into their rat holes.
These latest attacks could have been prevented. Why did he go against his instinct?
He knew the answer. The plan had been laid out with his father before they had left, and he knew there was reason for it.
Their indirect path was partly to give the rebels a sense of security that their hideout was unknown.
Then they could more easily be trapped. If Philippe’s objectives were discovered too soon, they would scatter, and he did not want to get into a chase across the open countryside.
Still, he thought he had room to alter the course and told the men to prepare for a hard ride.
They had planned to take a few days to get to the town of Aliette, stopping at several villages before moving into the cooler Alps region.
Still, it seemed that the longer they traveled, the more danger the towns were in, and he would waste no more time getting to what seemed to be the epicenter of the attacks.
As they came into the Canyon de Cuivre, the gateway to what was considered the northern region of the Duke’s territory, his company seemed to be in a better mood, despite the aggressive pace.
The night before at the inn had raised their spirits, and the promise that they were getting closer to their target had perked them up as well.
Philippe led the party through the canyon, shrubbed with bushy holly oaks, his mind all over the place.
Finding that campsite the day before had been very informative.
He wished he had brought someone else with him when he and Alex had gone into the Sable Noir Forest. Had he confronted the men with another sword, perhaps he would have taken a prisoner or two.
But he just couldn’t risk it with Alex at his side.
Alex.
Instead, he had pushed her into the hollow between two tangled trees and prayed that they wouldn’t be discovered.
He knew she was a competent swordsman, but there were too many of them.
It had been foolhardy to enter the forest as he had.
He never expected to come upon anyone; truthfully, he was using it as an excuse to get a little time alone with her.
He had needed her to find the campsite, surely.
But, also, he wanted her attention and the chance to be teased by her again.
If nothing else, at least he’d won back her friendship.
He laughed to himself remembering that unexpected sting when she called him a friend as they had moved through the woods.
He’d never had a friend like her before.
He galloped at the head of the convoy. They had to move fast in order to reach Aliette by nightfall.
He checked back over his shoulder. Laurent was good, his soldiers were strong.
Alex and a few other camp maintainers kept pace in the back.
He turned towards another slope bordered by trees and narrowed his eyes as the wind came up.
Thinking back to the forest, he knew that if it had been any other moment, he would have enjoyed being pressed against her.
But there had been danger outside. He didn’t know if he could fight at her side.
Against her of course; he delighted in pushing her around and being pushed back, but he worried he would be all too distracted if she fought beside him.
When he battled, though he had an awareness of his surroundings, the moment his sword was locked with an enemy had to be solitary. One man; one opponent.
Then, just before her trap had saved them, he had felt her shivering next to him.
He realized that Alex was scared. All at once, he would have taken on an army for her.
Instead, he did the only thing that made any sense in the moment, and he pulled her close.
Then he felt her exhale against his shoulder, and he wondered why she would put herself through all this.
Philippe knew that if he were ever captured by anyone other than the worst of barbarians, his father’s title would protect him.
But Alex? He shuddered to think about it.
He vowed in that moment to never let it happen.
The sun traveled across the sky while the convoy made their trail.
The trees began to thin as they came out of the canyon and hit an incline.
The smooth dirt turned rockier, and the horses took their steps more carefully, slowing the convoy.
Philippe decided to let the men take their lunch.
They crammed bread and what cheese they had left into their mouths.
Henri had been doing a fine job of charting their progress, considering much of this area was undocumented.
Alex advised him to turn east to avoid the rockier part of the mountains, claiming they could cut across a valley, but they still would have a hard half-day ride left.
As they sat in the sun, Philippe began composing a letter to his father.
He didn’t have anything substantial to say, though, so he put his writing utensils away as quickly as he’d gotten them out.
He was antsy to go but wanted his men rested.
He let them stretch out and close their eyes a moment longer before pushing them to mount up and continue the journey.
They arrived in Aliette several hours later, weary and hungry, just as the sun dipped below the mountains.
The town was tucked amongst the emerald pines that collected snow in the winter and near a thrashing stream that never was thirsty for the cold mountain water.
Off to the East, on the great jutting mountains that historically protected the borders of Provence from invasion, snow caps had already formed.
But Aliette itself would enjoy a few more weeks of nice weather before the first storms began.
The inn was near the town entrance. The building was squat but spacious with a domed roof and a large fire pit at the center of the great hall.
The rooms held three to four, and the men were happy to have the space and the beds.
As always, Philippe made sure Alex had a room to herself.
He would have liked to share a room with her one night, but he scolded himself for the thought.
The men settled and gathered in the tavern.
There was a particular fervor in the air that night.
Tomorrow they would ride to Ponce, which would serve as their base as they explored the caves, and the real challenges would begin.
But tonight, they had nothing to do but enjoy themselves.
Once Philippe had his meal, he chose his seat with a line of sight to Alex.
She seemed fine; his men were situated with girls and drink.
For the moment, everything was calm. He suddenly felt a finger run down his neck.
He turned to see a dark-haired woman soliciting his attention with a raised eyebrow and politely declined.
When he looked back to Alex, she was gone.
What the hell? He scanned the room but couldn’t find her.
He looked down at his half-eaten meal, and realized his peaceful evening was over.
He jumped up and was out the exit in a snap, still pulling his jacket on as he stumbled through the door.
He peered down the dark street, looking both ways until he saw her figure at the far end of the road, just before she disappeared around the corner.
He was relieved to see her but irritated she had snuck away.
Where was she going? And why was she going alone?
The moon was a glowing pearl against a clear black sky.
But even with the light, Alex was hard to track.
Quiet as a moth, she almost disappeared in the night.
He crouched and moved behind her, ducking into doorways and alleys every time she paused.
For a moment, he thought to call out and simply ask what she was doing, but he didn’t want to give her a chance to hide her motive.
There had been too many challenges on this trip: his inability to target the attackers, his confusing feelings for her.
He needed to accomplish something, and he wanted one of her secrets. So, he hunted.
Ahead, Alex slipped through the iron town gates and waded through a patch of tall grass before reaching the tree cover.
She turned back once again to scan the path behind her.
Philippe squatted behind a bale of hay. When he looked up, she had disappeared into the forest. He cursed himself as he ran the rest of the distance to the trees.