Alienor hastened ahead of Dagobert, as if she were relieved and pleased with him.He had only to stride onward, apparently in poor temper.She claimed the purse from his belt—Jordan’s purse—and counted out a quantity of coins for the jailer that shocked Dagobert to his marrow.He struggled to control his outrage that such a sum had been paid to the man for simply turning a key.The guard accompanied them back up to the passageway before the great hall.
’Twas a different path than he had taken before and for a heartbeat Dagobert feared a trick.His heart pounded in his ears even as he smelled the freshness of the air.He forced himself to march onward, frustrated by the limits the helmet put on his peripheral vision.He could be assaulted from behind and not know until it was too late.Alienor seemed untroubled by their path, however, and he put his trust in her, knowing he should have done as much long before.
“What is the wench’s name?”the guard asked as they reached the top of the stairs.
“Which wench?”Dagobert asked, hoping he was not condemning them with his ignorance.Alienor laughed when the guard might have been surprised, wagging her finger beneath Dagobert’s nose.
“He will always tease,” she confided in the guard, then turned to Dagobert.“He asks about my sister Ermengarde, of course, and you know it well.”
Ermengarde?Who was Ermengarde?
“Of course.Ermengarde,” Dagobert said gruffly.
The guard laughed at Dagobert’s apparent jest and clapped him on the shoulder while Dagobert tried not to show his complete lack of understanding.His heart thundered so loudly in his ears that he was sure the other two must be able to hear it.The prospect of being imprisoned anew so much more unpalatable for this brief respite and he wanted only to flee from the palace with haste.
“For a moment I feared you forgot our agreement,” the guard said.
Another wager.Dagobert turned to Alienor, as if inviting her suggestion.In truth, he could not have answered himself.
“Perhaps they could meet after Mass,” she suggested.She glanced at Dagobert and he guessed the transaction that was being made.
“Nay, woman,” he corrected her.“Tis not a chat before your priest this man deserves.”He turned to the guard and lowered his voice slightly.“Meet me at the weaver’s stall near the Temple tomorrow after vespers.You shall share our nuptial meal.”
“And Ermengarde?”
Dagobert feigned a laugh.“My lady would not wed without her sister’s presence, would she?”
“’Twill be a merry moment to meet,” Alienor said with approval.
“Indeed, sir, you are most kind.I will be there!”
Dagobert barely kept from gasping aloud when Alienor dropped coins into the man’s hand, revealing that the jailer and guard were not obliged to share.He bit back his protest before it could leave his tongue, waving to the guard as he led Alienor out into the street.
“Before vespers,” he called by way of farewell, and the guard nodded.
The heavy door closed behind them and Dagobert stood hand-in-hand with Alienor in the quiet darkness of the street outside the palace.He exhaled and a weight slipped from his heart.He was free.He looked up, trying to discern the stars far overhead, a lump in his throat.
’Twas a miracle, a stroke of good fortune beyond compare.
“What do you know of a weaver’s stall near the Temple?”Alienor asked.
Dagobert smiled at the skepticism in her tone.“Naught,” he admitted, and grinned down at her.“But why should there not be one there?”She laughed and Dagobert dared to chuckle himself, feeling the wonder of his life before him once again.He was still amazed that the simple switch had worked as well as it had.
He had been given the opportunity he desired, against all expectation, and he would make it count.
“We must hasten.”Alienor tugged on his sleeve.She spoke aright, for they were as yet within the king’s own walls.
“Lead on, my lady.”
She pivoted and set a quick pace, obviously having an intended destination.They were far from clear and away, and that realization drove him onward.Fear gave Dagobert the will to match her pace.Alienor hurried him toward the bridge that they might cross from the Île de la Cité to the southern shore of the Seine.She raced through the deserted streets toward the perimeter of town.No shouts of discovery echoed behind them, much to his surprise, and his frantic heartbeat slowed as Alienor led them through a maze of twisted streets.He heartily doubted that anyone could have followed their path.
But where did she lead him?To the site of another betrayal?He had listened to Eustache for too long to easily trust the intent of any soul.His imagination conjured numerous outcomes to this escape as they walked, each more terrible than the last, but still he followed his wife’s footsteps.
Hewouldtrust Alienor.
She had been his loyal wife in every way, and Dagobert knew he owed her better than he had granted her thus far.
Their future began this very night.
