Edmund paled. “You are not supposed to know of that.”
“Neither are you.”
“But, but…”
Before Amaury could move, Roland stepped forward and seized Edmund, forcing him down into the cask. He easily overpowered the older man, whose protests became more shrill by the moment. “Perhaps you will have a better answer once we are within the walls of Marnis,” Roland said.
“But I cannot tell you, sir. I dare not do as much.”
“You see?” Roland cast Amaury a wicked smile. “Even the most practiced liar can learn to tell the truth with a little encouragement.”
“Sir, you cannot do this…”
Edmund’s protests were muffled as Roland secured the lid of the cask, then his voice rose in a shriek.
Roland leaned down and murmured with quiet heat. “I would recommend silence on your part, Edmund.” To Amaury’s surprise, his brother jabbed the blade of his dagger between the wooden bands of the cask. Edmund squeaked. “I will find a longer blade by the time we are within Marnis’ walls, of that you can be assured.”
“But you cannot. You should not. I protest…”
Roland removed the blade and poked it into the cask on the other side. Again, Edmund squeaked but this time, he fell silent afterward.
“Consider your choices, Edmund. I will ask you only once more.” Roland stepped away, nodding to the driver.
“Should I be concerned that you so readily become the brigand?” Amaury asked his brother softly, but Roland’s grin flashed.
“I must leave the honor, duty and noble purpose to you,” he teased.
“You and Sebastian were the brigands in the forest,” Amaury said, wanting his brother’s confession.
“We were brigands in the forest, but there were others, others who pretended their deeds were ours.” Roland became grim. “Others who were more fierce and foul than we ever could be. We never saw them, Amaury, only the results of their deeds.” He must have seen something in Amaury’s expression, for his voice dropped low. “We were nuisances, Amaury, not villains. We stole a few trinkets and we pricked the pride of those due for a measure of humiliation. We never did anyone serious injury and we never killed another.” He gestured to the driver. “This man can vouch for that.”
The driver nodded solemnly. “There were others, sir, veritable fiends they were. Not abroad often but always with dire purpose.”
“Do you know who they were?”
“No man with his wits about him would admit it if he did.” He positioned the cask containing Edmund, then murmured for Amaury’s ears alone. “I will release that worm only upon your word, sir.”
Amaury nodded his appreciation. He could not deny that there were those men whose location he preferred to know.
He said a silent prayer as he climbed into the cask. He did not believe in divine intervention, but in a man ensuring his own success. All the same, a little favor from above on this day’s errand would not be remiss.
Isabella wassurprised by the number of people who arrived to pay their respects to Denis. She might have expected a smaller gathering, given her brother’s skill for turning others against him and her father’s lack of comparative influence. Perhaps it was curiosity that brought so many to the gates of Marnis. She did not doubt that word of her father’s plans had travelled quickly. Perhaps it was the prospect of a fine meal at the Lord de Marnis’ expense.
She had not slept well, given that she possessed no ability to change her own situation. She was beneath her father’s thumb, once again, and subject to his will – as ever she had been, but now, after a short interval with Amaury, her powerlessness rankled. A convent was the last place she wished to be, a life of solitude and silence the least of her ambitions, and the prospect of a future yoked to Faydide only diminished the appeal of both.The woman had wailed half the night and tossed for the other half. Even if Isabella had been inclined to sleep, having her step-mother share her chamber had ensured that to be impossible.
As the sun rose, Faydide snored, her mouth open. Isabella rose and dressed silently, choosing again the deep red dress, for she would not leave any item of value to be shared amongst the servants of the household. She had packed her few treasures and took that bag with her now, along with Amaury’s cloak, meaning to entrust both to the driver who would take her and Faydide away.
Her father had ceded that they might remain for the midday meal, to be served after Denis’ funeral. Isabella would be glad of the sustenance before they departed, though she guessed that was not his reason for making the offer. Nay, he would have Faydide witness his betrayal; he would ensure that Faydide saw him put her aside and claim Marguerite as his intended. It was not sufficient that he cast out his wife and the mother of his only son: he would see her heart broken as well.
It was enough to feed Isabella’s newfound sympathy for her step-mother – though that compassion was more easily maintained while Faydide was asleep.
She reached the stables and spoke to the driver, who was assisting the ostler in ensuring that all the arriving steeds were tended. She could not restrain herself from giving Amaury’s cloak one last admiring stroke before she turned away.
Would she ever see him again? Isabella suspected not. There was a lesson, to be sure, to never risk leaving a word unsaid or letting an opportunity escape. If only she had been bold enough to defy her father!
The bailey thronged with visitors, both nobles from neighboring estates and peasants from Marnis’ village. All were garbed in dark clothing, but there was a ripple of excitement beneath their sombre appearances. As Isabella crossed to thekeep, a large cart loaded with casks of wine was coming through the gates. Its appearance was greeted with a cheer and much enthusiastic commentary.
How curious that her father had never possessed the coin to buy so much wine as this at once. Was Marguerite’s dowry so rich as that? Or was it the treasury of Montvieux that funded his indulgences in these times? Isabella wagered she would never know.
