Alienor glanced down to Dagobert in that moment and he had not the time to conceal his fury.She recoiled and took a half step backward.The way that Jordan seized her arm and steadied her brought Dagobert closer to murder than he had ever been.
The king and his counselors filed back onto the dais above him as he struggled to make sense of what he saw.That the knave bought clothes for Alienor was sign enough that she warmed his bed.The very notion that his wife welcomed Jordan, of all men, while he languished in prison made Dagobert yearn to rip the man apart with his hands.How could she have chosen the one man who had betrayed him?He wondered yet again what role Alienor had played in his downfall.Had she not urged him to take the main road?Had her encouragement not brought them to Toulouse and Raimon’s treachery?
Would Dagobert deny his legacy for this woman?Never!Would he renounce his sire to spend years with a woman who betrayed him time and time again?Never!Only Eustache had seen the truth of her ways and he had been a fool to discount the man’s insight.No longer!He was born of the line of kings in truth and he cared not who knew it.He would die of the line of kings, as well.
“We have reached a decision,” a clerk’s voice came from above, the little man jumping back when Dagobert leapt up from his place with blazing eyes.
“You can make no decision without all of the facts!”he roared, disregarding the warning in Iolande’s eyes as he reached for the front of his tunic.“Alzeu de Pereille was my sire and my mother knows it well, for I bear the mark of his line.”He grabbed two fistfuls of the cheap cloth and the fabric rent, baring his chest to all.
“Behold the mark of kings!”he cried, savoring the shock that settled over the features of those assembled when they saw his birthmark.
It was the shape of a cross, burning red upon his flesh, just as Alzeu’s had been.
“My lord,” a noblewoman gasped.She fell to her knees before Dagobert with tear-filled eyes and reverently pressed her lips to his bare and dirty foot.“Long have we awaited your return.”
He had but laid his hand on her head before he was surrounded by masses of people brushing their lips across his toes and his fingertips.A few bold ones dared to touch the port-wine cross of his birthmark itself.Others tore snippets of his robe and stole them away.The healing powers of kings were said to permeate even their garments.Dagobert recalled tales of old kings and his forebears who had gone amongst their people and returned naked.
And now ’twas happening to him.
Dagobert looked up to meet his mother’s horrified gaze.She shook her head and abruptly turned away, disappearing almost immediately into the press of people.He tried to spot Alienor in the crowd but could not.His heart sank when the jailer bound his hands behind his back with a newfound roughness and Dagobert realized the high price of his injured pride.
Chapter 10
“Iolande!”Alienor shouted at the older woman’s departing figure.She knew that if she lost sight of Iolande she would never find her again in Paris.
“Alienor!”Jordan was snared in the crowd somewhere behind her, but Alienor ignored his cries.They both fought against a seemingly endless press of people, all bent on reaching Dagobert.
Her path cleared and Alienor hastened onward when she spotted Iolande ahead.
The older woman’s lips softened at the sight of her.“I thought ’twas you,” she confessed, an uncharacteristic quiver in her voice.She gathered Alienor into a tight hug as soon as she could.Alienor was surprised to feel the older woman trembling slightly and she returned her embrace tightly.Iolande pulled back and glanced downward when the fullness of Alienor’s belly pressed against her.“How is the child?”
Alienor lifted one finger to her lips.“Well enough, but Dagobert said to keep its existence secret,” she whispered.
Iolande nodded in understanding.“I am relieved to hear that he retains some measure of his wits.”She flicked a glance at the people pressing against the door to the dungeons and her anger with Dagobert’s impulsiveness was more than clear.
“But I do not understand,” Alienor admitted, unable to keep from asking the question.“Who was Dagobert’s sire?”
Iolande snorted.“Alzeu, of course.”
Alienor’s heart leapt at this confirmation of the tale Dagobert himself had told her.“Then why...”she began to ask, but got no further before the older woman cut her short.
“I thought to save the fool’s life,” Iolande explained bitterly.“But, ever like his sire, he would have none of it.These men take their vows too seriously.”
“Would you not have him keep his word?”
“I would have him live.”
Alienor opened her mouth, then closed it again, uncertain what to think of Dagobert’s decision.Why had he declared himself of the line of kings when the possibility of his freedom loomed so near?She recalled the blaze of his eyes when he had met her regard and feared she knew.Was it because of her presence?Was he so reluctant to spend his life with her that he would rather die?
Or did he keep his vow to his father, and insist that the truth be known?
Jordan reached the women then, his lips curving in a smile when he saw Iolande.
She spoke sharply to him before he could greet her.“’Tis none other than the serpent himself.”She turned to Alienor, her expression disapproving.“I had hoped that you werenotin his company.”
“Jordan obtained my release,” Alienor explained.
“And to what purpose?”Iolande demanded.“Surely we all know this knight to be a less than altruistic soul.”
