“The fire was not recent,” Lothair said, taking a deep breath of the air. He dismounted, then bent to rub ash between his finger and thumb, sniffing it. “It has been months.” His pale gaze flicked over the ruined keep. “And you speak aright. I see no corpses or indication that there have been any.”
“In Palestine, we would assume they had been enslaved,” Thierry said, then shrugged in apology when Amaury and Philip pivoted to glare at him.
“Not here,” Amaury said again.
Thierry shrugged. “There is little to be gained in ignoring the possibilities.”
“I would know for certain.” Amaury slipped from his saddle and Philip hastened to hold his destrier’s reins. He strode in the direction of the chapel.
“A churchyard?” Lothair asked with interest. “That might hold a clue.”
But there were no freshly turned mounds in the churchyard and Amaury would have wagered that there were at most a few more graves. He moved aside debris and ash, seeing that someone had cleared the way to the crypt already. The chapel had burned to the ground, but its burned remains had scattered over the stone sarcophagi in the crypt. Once the graves of his forebears had been in darkness, but now the sun touched the stone lids through gaps in the broken floor.
Amaury pushed some burned timbers aside, then descended into the shadowed space. The floor overhead was more intact than he might have expected. It was cold in the crypt and the scent of death was unmistakable.
There were three sarcophagi in the crypt, carved of local stone and secured with lids. Amaury’s ancestors were laid to rest there, but there was a fourth tomb. When Amaury had departed, it had been empty, the lid angled against one side of it.
Now the lid was secured atop it.
Amaury had to look upon the face of its occupant.
He was aware of Lothair close by his side and glad of that knight’s presence. They halted on either side of the stone sarcophagus and exchanged a glance. At Amaury’s nod, the two knights hefted up the lid. Thierry moved to the head of the tomb and shoved the slab of stone further back. There was a corpse within.
Lothair unwound the shroud to expose the face of the dead man.
“Father,” Amaury whispered, his tears rising. There could be no doubt, though his father’s eyes were closed and his skin had pulled back from his bones. Lucien de Montvieux could not be said to look asleep, for he was clearly dead.
Lothair was leaning over the body, sniffing and peering at it. At his gesture, Philip fetched a candle and tinder, lighting it for the knight. Lothair claimed it to continue his examination, while the others watched in silence. Lothair pressed a hand on Lucien de Montvieux’s chest gently then lifted it away. “Not more than three months,” he said with characteristic economy.
Thierry approached then. “Did he wear a signet ring?” he asked.
“On his left hand,” Amaury said. “Beside his wedding band.” He could not tear his gaze from his father’s face, grief rising so hot and hard that it might choke him. How unfair was it that he had arrived too late to say a final farewell to his beloved father?
Lothair unwrapped the dead man’s hands. He glanced up, his expression making it clear that the fingers were bare.
Not just his father but his legacy, as well. Amaury could not bear the weight of his loss.
“Three months,” he whispered. “I could have been here. We could have ridden with greater haste. We could have left Sayerne earlier and not lingered at Viandin.”
“But we did and it is done,” Thierry said sternly.
“Perhaps you would be lying here beside him if we had journeyed more quickly,” Philip added.
“Perhaps we all would,” Lothair added grimly.
Amaury did not understand. “What do you mean? My father had seen only sixty summers. My grandfather and his before him lived long years beyond that.”
Lothair gestured to the empty finger. “Where is his ring?” he asked. “Who has claimed your legacy?”
Amaury blinked. “Surely my brothers took the ring for safekeeping?”
“And where are they?” Thierry asked gently.
The others took a collective breath and it was Luc who spoke from the portal. Evidently, he had been listening, as well as keeping an eye upon the horses. “You must consider that they might be responsible.”
“Nay!” Amaury roared. “Nay, I will not!””
“You could not have known what would transpire,” Thierry said by way of consolation. Lothair was wrapping the shroud around the dead man once again.
