“I wonder if Marnis had also sent a messenger,” Amaury mused but the two men before him shrugged in unison.
“If he was there, we did not recognize him.” Roland lifted a hand. “We came home to this.”
“The keep burned to ash,” Oswald added bitterly.
“And Father dead in the crypt,” Roland said.
Amaury nodded. “What of his ring?”
“It was gone,” Roland provided, dashing Amaury’s hopes that his brothers had claimed the signet ring. “And every soul from Montvieux had vanished as surely as if they had never been in residence at all.”
Where had the villagers gone? Amaury considered that the miller might have taken the initiative to lead his neighbors to safety. But where would they seek refuge?
“Edmund came to us,” Roland continued. “That first day, as if he knew that we would return.”
“Marnis has spies everywhere,” Oswald added in an undertone, sparing a glance for Amaury’s tent and the lady within. Amaury felt a chill at the implication.
“He said Father had died in his sleep, and insisted that he had himself laid him to rest as was right and proper.” It was clear that Roland did not believe this tale, and truly, Amaury found it difficult to believe that Edmund, older and frail, could have conveyed his father’s corpse to the crypt and into a sarcophagus alone. “He said the ring was already gone when he found Father.”
Oswald scoffed at that. “As if the people of Montvieux had stolen it.”
Amaury also doubted this tale. How could Gaultier de Marnis offer him Montvieux unless that man had both the seal and the signet ring in his possession? He could not. And it was not hard to believe that Edmund had lied to Roland.
“He also said he knew naught of the fire that began the next night.” Roland spat at the ground, his eyes blazing. “He always was vermin. You warned Father, but he would not heed your counsel. At least Edmund is in his rightful place, in that pit of vipers at Marnis.”
Amaury nodded slowly, seeking to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. Would Isabella confide more in him if he asked?
He doubted as much, unless he apologized, which he fully intended to do.
“I could not fathom why Father would die in his sleep,” Roland said. “He was hale when we left, and his own father saw more than eighty summers.”
“We could not find a wound upon him, though,” Oswald said. “We looked.”
“That he was poisoned explains all,” Roland said. “Are you certain?”
“My companion, Lothair, is a skilled healer,” Amaury said, choosing to keep the stone and its powers secret. “He discerned the signs.”
Lothair waited only a moment before he nodded grimly.
“You should let her flee your side, as she threatened,” Roland said with urgency. “It can be no good thing to have one from Marnis in your own bed.”
“They are all deceitful,” Oswald said. “And see naught but their own advantage.”
“She will betray you,” Roland continued, but Amaury shook his head.
“Isabella is my lady wife, and our lives are now bound together. I hope that she is not a pawn of her father, but I would grant her the benefit of the doubt.”
“It may be the last grant you make,” Roland said beneath his breath.
“And yet, the pledge is made, and it was made that I might recover Montvieux,” Amaury said with some impatience. “The result being that we must find a way forward and make every effort to reclaim our legacy. I ride to Marnis on the morrow, to treat with the Lord de Marnis and accept his affirmation of the promises made to me by his son.”
“I would not enter that keep, were I you, Amaury,” Roland said. “You may never leave it alive. Even the lady warns you against repercussions.”
“I follow the path most likely to restore Montvieux to my hand. Though my choices are limited, I must use them to succeed.”
His brother sat back, discontent, and they all stared into the fire for long moments.
“I will go with you,” Roland offered finally.
