The brothers were tall, as tall as Amaury, but of a more slender build. She did not doubt they were each just as powerful, given their similar experience in the east. Thierry’s hair was black and his eyes were clear green. In appearance, he and Luc would have been nigh identical, save for Luc’s eye patch, but she had already noticed that their manner and posture were utterly different.
Thierry was possessed of an audacity, one that made him quick with his crossbow and deadly accurate. There was a fire within him, one that burned hot and bright. She wagered he would be a loyal friend and unflinching in his support, as well as direct in his speech. His brother, Luc, in contrast, was quieter and more mysterious. He would consider a matter longer before he spoke upon it or offered an opinion. Luc moved with purpose and was more inclined to hang back than step forward. She wondered whether he had changed with the loss of his eye, but would not ask such an intimate question. Amaury had mentioned that Luc felt portents and she wondered also whether that foresight had come with the loss of his eye.
Thierry watched Amaury, lacing his fingers together and bracing his elbows on his knees. Aye, he would be the brother to take the initiative to tell her some detail of Amaury that the brothers agreed she should know. She did not doubt that they had conferred upon the matter and he had volunteered for the task.
She wondered what he meant to tell her.
She did not have to wait long to learn as much.
“When Amaury joined our small company in Outremer, my brother and I thought we knew his measure,” Thierry began quietly. “He was affluent, with his horses and his squires, his fine garb and jewelled dagger, and he had been raised withprivilege, it was clear. He was handsome and confident, fearless in demanding his desire. Here, my brother and I were certain, was a man accustomed to his way, a man who would roar if ever he was denied, a knight with every weapon yet would flee from the slightest confrontation lest his tabard become mired.” He cast her a rueful glance. “We could not have been more mistaken. It took Amaury little time to prove himself a paragon, and one whose very presence urged each of us to give our fullest effort every time.”
“He can be persuasive,” Isabella ceded.
“More than that, my lady, for it is not words but deeds that make his argument. What Amaury learned from privilege is that one person can make a difference. His upbringing gave him the confidence to step forward, to offer aid, to believe in the innate goodness of every person he encounters.”
“Though he sees the problem, his thought is upon the solution,” Isabella said, having seen as much herself.
“Exactly thus! He is determined to help and to leave matters better than they were before he arrived. This generosity of purpose is his gift, as is his skill for listening. He is perceptive, but time and again, I have seen him grant someone an opportunity, no more and no less, to ask for his or her desire.”
“And then he grants it,” Isabella said, thinking of her own first encounter with Amaury.
“And then he does what he can, which is often a great deal.” Thierry nodded. “He will not tell you of these deeds, for he is modest, as well. Perhaps he believes that the people he assists would have found their way without him, and that his influence was less than in truth it was. I do not know, but I know this: Luc and I could not have been more mistaken about his nature. He is valiant in battle and loyal to a fault. I would follow him into Hell, for I know he would never abandon me there, no matter what the cost to himself.”
“He left me at Marnis.”
“But only because you sent him away.” Thierry almost smiled. “He also believes that a lady’s will should never be denied.” He frowned for a moment, as if deciding whether to continue and Isabella was glad when he did. “I have never seen him angry in all the years we have known each other, not until that night we first left Marnis.” He turned to her, his eyes so clear that she knew he spoke the truth. “Not until you denied him. I teased him, but I knew then that you would claim him, heart and soul. There is no other reason why he would have felt so betrayed by your refusal. You think, I suspect, that he possesses every asset in your marriage and that you, perhaps, are at a disadvantage. I would assure you that Amaury does not see matters that way. For him, the balance is and always will be in your favor. You command him, for he will always cede to your will.”
Isabelle recalled him offering his blade to her, before all the company at Marnis, and her heart skipped a little.
“And if you see marriage as a partnership between two different but equal, I believe that you will become a force undeniable together.”
Isabella recognized the truth in his counsel, as well as the fact that her own fear had held her back – not any deed Amaury had done. He had been taught to see the sunlight, not the shadow. That was the difference in their perspectives – which shaped their expectations.
She could learn so much from him, so much that would make her stronger. It was curious that instead of fearing that he desired only Montvieux from her, Isabella now wondered how she could grant his sole desire.
Where was that missing seal?
“Tell me something of Palestine,” she invited.
Thierry smiled. “I will do better. I will tell you a tale of Amaury in Palestine, an example of his gift as I have explained it. It is not a tale he would be inclined to share with you, which also tells you something of his nature.”
Isabella nodded and waited.
“We came to frequent a tavern in our past few years in Outremer. It was owned by a Saracen with a family, a man who preferred a quieter establishment. It was less raucous than some of the other options, and the fare was good, the prices fair. That was not how we discovered it, however. Quinn, one of our company, spied a thief robbing this tavern one night. He and his companion Bayard intervened, the stolen coin was recovered, and the proprietor, Marcus, was most grateful. We went there to celebrate on the following evening, and ever after, it became our meeting place.”
“No doubt Marcus did not mind having knights amongst his regular patrons.”
“He did not. We were eight by then, all with squires, so our custom was welcome. And over time, the bond between us and Marcus grew. When Marcus’ son, his only son, fell ill, it was thought that he might die for naught helped. In desperation, Marcus asked aFranjand a foreigner, Lothair, to help. With Lothair’s aid, the boy recovered.”
“And Amaury?”
Thierry smiled. “Amaury was the one who recognized that when we crusaders returned home, Marcus would have much less trade and thus less coin. He was the one who spoke to Marcus of the future, of that man’s aspirations. It resolved that Marcus had always wished to have an olive press to extract the oil – the Saracens use it in cooking and for many other purposes – but had not been able to afford a press. He ran the tavern instead, though his wife would have preferred not to do as much. Amaury offered to buy the press, if Marcus’ son undertook anapprenticeship in that skill. He did, and when he completed his training, the press was bought and Marcus began a new trade with his son. By the time of our departure, his custom was sufficient that he could close the tavern. His wife was most pleased and convinced that their daughters would marry better than might otherwise have been the case.”
“Did Marcus give a parting gift to each of you?”
Thierry glanced up. “Ah, so Amaury did show you the poison stone.”
“He gave it to me, at Marnis.” Isabella considered this. “He gave me the tool I needed to learn the truth, that I might act upon it.”
