Enguerrand’s fingertips slid over the book. “Then this is not a book ofspells?”
Annelise laughed aloud. “Spells? What manner of nonsense fills your head, Enguerrand? It is nothing but a book of tales to entertainchildren.”
The others in Enguerrand’s party relaxed visibly at both Annelise's bold tone and her explanation. She reached for the volume, but Enguerrand flipped itopen.
“Why then is it written in codedscript?”
The weight of the knights’ and squires’ gazes fell heavily upon Annelise. She saw immediately that the book had reverted to its original form. Annelise would not touch the page for it might change as it had for her husband and that would only feed Enguerrand’s suspicions that there was magicafoot.
Instead, she closed the book and claimed it before Enguerrand couldprotest.
“It is not coded!” she said with a laugh. “This is written in the language of the Saracens. Did I not mention that my husband reads in manylanguages?”
Enguerrand’s eyes narrowed. “Then how do you know what lies within thesepages?”
Annelise shrugged as easily as she could and slid the book onto her lap. “My husband has entertained me with these tales on many evenings. I suppose you have only my word as to itscontents.”
With that, she held Enguerrand’s gaze steadily, hoping that she guessed aright his unwillingness to challengeher.
“Do you not trust me, Enguerrand?” she asked pointedly. Her gaze met that of each of the others in turn then she lowered her voice, as if speaking her thoughts aloud. “Why a man would propose marriage to a woman he found untrustworthy, I cannotguess.”
The two knights nudged each other, the gesture breaking the tension. To Annelise’s relief, Enguerrand cleared his throat and looked away for a moment before glancing over the company. His voice dropped and his manner becameconfidential.
“You may think my suspicions unreasonable, Annelise, but there have been strange tales afoot of late. Those may well be fanciful stories for children, but these tales are reputed to betrue.”
“Indeed?”
“Tell us a tale, Enguerrand!” One of the knights lifted his goblet and took a long draught. “A stormy night is a good one for a rousing piece offancy.”
The second companion knight settled back with a full goblet of wine, clearly more than ready for entertainment. The pair had shed their mail immediately, the weather and the wine combining with the evident security of the high walls to put them at ease as men of war were seldomcapable.
Night had fully descended in the garden and there was a pleasant hum of insects carrying through the arched and open windows. Had it not been for the company, Annelise might have thought the settingidyllic.
Enguerrand frowned as he gazed into the courtyard. “I am reminded of one tale in particular, told by a bard visiting Tulley’s court just the other evening. It was a tale of a vengeful djinn. This minstrel insisted he had been told the tale by the djinn herself when he had the misfortune to cross paths withher.”
A djinn? Surely Enguerrand could not know... Annelise set the last of her meal aside, her appetitelost.
“A djinn?” A squire looked confused. “And what might thatbe?”
“A djinn is an evil and immortal creature, invisible for the most part but able to wreak havoc upon the lives of mortals by choice,” Enguerrand said. Annelise watched him through her lashes, noting how he enjoyed telling the tale. There was a definite malice in his manner and she feared his intention. “This one was said to have been of particularly foultemper.”
The squire’s eyes shone as he listened. Annelise’s mouth was dry and she shared little of the boy’s enthusiasm, although she strove to hide thatfact.
Enguerrand’s gaze fixed upon Annelise. “It was said that this djinn had been imprisoned in a bottle before ‘once upon a time’ and cursed to surrender her palace to whoever opened the bottle and granted her release. The djinn was evidently a selfish sort and schemed all the years she was locked away as to how she would take vengeance upon thisunfortunate.
“The bard insisted that a knight returning from the Crusades had acquired the bottle, perhaps in innocence, and opened it near Tulley’s estates.” He waved. “Perhaps even in this vicinity.” Annelise looked down at her trencher. “The djinn was compelled to grant her palace to the knight, but then she took herrevenge.”
Enguerrand sipped at his wine, clearly enjoying how the men waited in anticipation of hiswords.
Annelise feltill.
“What did she do?” asked thesquire.
“She cursed the knight and made him a wolf. Imagine, to be condemned to take the form of a wolf when a wondrous palace had been granted to you as a gift!” Enguerrand laughed and Annelise hated him all the more. “The bard insisted that the djinn had forbidden the knight from entering the palace, yet condemned him to prowl around it for the remainder of hisdays.”
His gaze drifted out the window to linger on the splendor of the garden. All eyes followed his gaze, then Enguerrand cleared his throat. “How fortunate we are to wait out the blizzard under such finecircumstances.”
To Annelise, his implication was startlinglyclear.
