At the sight of his scarred, bloody, handsome face, relief flooded Gabrielle’s veins.Thank the Goddess, he’s alive!
The knights removed their helmets and bowed before the king. Bastien spoke in a breathless voice. “Your Majesty, of the two dozen who attacked the royal guards, all but four have been slain. Three managed to escape before we arrived to reinforce Pontivy and his men, but one—although badly wounded—still lives.”
“We’ll make him talk.” Gaultier’s dark eyes blazed with hatred as he glanced at his younger brother Bastien. “He’ll tell us who sent them.”
King Guillemin sighed audibly. “I know who sent them.” He raised his dejected, dispirited gaze to Bastien. “Ugolin le Clou.” The king took a large gulp of wine and set his goblet down. “But I cannot make accusations without proof.” He turned to Gaultier. “Did the attackers bear any coat of arms on shields or surcoats?”
“No, my king. They were dressed as ordinary huntsmen in plain woolen cloaks and breeches. But they wielded swords like highly skilled knights.” Gaultier’s fierce, dark eyes and sleek, black hair gleamed in the afternoon setting sun.
“Where is Pontivy?” The king searched the group of soldiers for the captain of his royal guards.
“He was killed in battle, Sire. Along with nine of our best knights. Only Yvain and Bruno survived the attack.” Gaultier gestured to the two bloodied, battered knights who stood proudly before their king.
King Guillemin lowered his head, aggrieved by the loss of his champion. “An irreparable loss for the kingdom of Finistère. He was an incomparable swordsman and unparalleled knight.” Eyebrows furrowed, he raised his regal gaze to Bastien’s older brother. “Gaultier, you will replace Pontivy as my new champion. I hereby appoint you Captain of my Royal Guards, And First Knight of Beaufort. “
Gaultier knelt beside the king and kissed his royal ring. “It shall be my greatest honor, Sire.”
As Gaultier returned to his place among the royal guards, King Guillemin addressed Yvain and Bruno, the two survivors of Pontivy’s slaughtered men. “You both valiantly defendedle Château de Beaufort.Each of you will be handsomely rewarded with a hefty bag of silver.” Gabrielle’s father turned from the grinning guards to behold Bastien, a generous glint in his regal gaze. “Bastien de Landuc, please approach. I wish to reward you as well.”
Gabrielle held her breath as Bastien knelt at the king’s feet, her gaze darting from her regal father to the man who held her heart. The champion who, Goddess willing, would prevail in the Yuletide Joust.
Become her wedded husband.
And the future King of Finistère.
King Guillemin’s voice quavered with emotion. “I am deeply indebted and eternally grateful to you for saving my daughter’s life today. In recompense for your intrepid valor, Sir Bastien de Landuc, I shall grant youla noblesse chevaleresque—a title of nobility for your chivalrous deed. I hereby bestow upon you the title ofle Marquis de Cornouailleas I bequeathun fief de dignité—the fiefdom of Cornouaille, encompassing the southern half of my kingdom of Finistère, along with the magnificentChâteau de Concarneau.”
Bastien raised an incredulous face, astonishment shining in his deep green eyes.
“As a titled member of nobility, you will be eligible to compete in the Yuletide Joust.” King Guillemin grinned expansively at Gabrielle. “It is the Yuletide wish of my beautiful daughter—and my own as well—that you should prevail and win her hand. Rise now, with the royal blessing of your most grateful king.”
Bastien stood proudly before the king, fierce eyes glued on Gabrielle.
King Guillemin summoned Ezhvin. “Send for a scribe and order a royal messenger to prepare for departure within the hour.” He informed Bastien, “I shall write the official proclamation of nobility in the form oflettres patentesand send the document to Paris. In about a week, we’ll receive the official decree fromle Parlement de Paris.Just in time for you to compete in the Yuletide Joust.”
Bastien stood in stunned silence as the king spoke to Gaultier, the new First Knight of Beaufort and Captain of the Royal Guards. “Have your men gather and prepare our fallen soldiers for an honorable burial and memorial tribute tomorrow. Burn the corpses of the enemy. And prepare for the arrival of Bastien’s father, Sir Esclados le Ros, who is expected to arrive in two days with magnificent horses for the Yuletide Joust. Sir Lancelot will be arriving shortly thereafter with another two dozen mounts from his incomparable stables.”
Gaultier bowed before the king. “À vos ordres, Votre Majesté.”With a jut of his chin, the new First Knight of Beaufort led his men from the royal solar to obey the king’s command.
Ezhvin returned with the scribe, whose quilled pen meticulously drafted King Guillemin’s official decree of nobility—la noblesse chevaleresque—for Bastien de Landuc, the newly appointedMarquis de Cornouaille.
King Guillemin removed his signet ring, sealed the regal decree with wax, and tied the royal proclamation with red satin ribbon. He handed thelettres patentesto the ready rider, who was eagerly waiting at the scribe’s side. “Ride hard, and change horses frequently, so that you arrive atle Parlement de Pariswithin two days. Come back immediately with the official sealed document. You will be well compensated upon your return. Depart at once.”
“At your command,Votre Majesté. I shall return within five days.”
As the royal messenger and scribe departed, the king grinned at Bastien. “Tonight, we celebrate your appointment asle Marquis de Cornouaille.”To Gabrielle, he quipped, “I am sure you andMonsieur le Marquishave much to discuss. But you must excuse your king. For I need to rest and recuperate before tonight’s impromptu feast.”
With a weary smile, her father summoned Ezhvin, who, along with Bastien, helped the king rise to a stand. Another valet approached to replace Bastien, and the two royal attendants led the exhausted monarch from the solar to his royal chambers for a much-needed rest.
Alone at last with Bastien, Gabrielle flung her arms around his neck and covered his face with furious, frantic kisses. “Now you can compete in the joust and win my hand! Bastien, it is my Yuletide wish come true!”
He responded with a glorious smile that took her breath away as he crushed her in his powerful arms.
Hungrily devoured her eager lips.
And, in a ragged, husky voice, whispered in her ear, “Mine, too.”
Chapter 10
