Isabeau whispered, “You banished that—that wicked ghost with wine in a cup?”
“I—think I did. The wine makes reflections, a little. If I had a proper mirror, I could do more. Perhaps remember more. God smiteme, but I amsureI learned something in that place, though it is all forgot. Perhaps I myself learned enchantments, and I could help you and the duchess with my own hands. I do not know. I have no way to make trial of it. And the duchess is rightly cautious. But I beg you will not offer yourself to the korrigan-king.”
Isabeau only said, “If I find you a mirror, you will help us?”
The knuckles of his hands tangled white in his russet hair, and then he whispered, “Yes. With all my heart.”
“Swear on the Blessed Jesu that you will help us. And on your immortal soul.”
“I swear.”
“Then I will find you a mirror.”
His answer was a look of piercing gratitude. But as they left the room and climbed down the narrow stairs, Elesbed said, “I think we ought to tell the duchess.”
“If we tell her she might say no. She might learn I offered to be the korrigan-king’s bride and be angry. I don’t think we should tell her.”
“She would be right to be angry!”
“Maybe,” said Isabeau. “But you see, I have to save my sister, even if she doesn’t want my help.” Isabeau turned to face Elesbed in the concealing shadows at the base of the wall. The main château glimmered on the other side of the courtyard. “And you are not to tell anyone. I order it.”
Elesbed said, “Don’t you know what you’ve done?Invitedhim. All the stories say that’s what gives them power over you. He is a wicked bad creature, the king of the korriganed.”
“You don’t know that!” flared Isabeau. “And it doesn’t matter. I’ll make that bargain, if he can keep my sister in Brittany. It is what I am born for, what I must do because I have horses and pretty dresses and a castle. Sacrifice. My sister told me. We are born for sacrifices. My life is not mine, I will give it for my realm. And the best thing I can do for Brittany is keep my sister here.”
“You can’t make bargains with the korriganed!” Elesbed had been told at some point that servants didn’t shout, but she was too incensedto care. “They’ll twist your words, they’ll trick you. You know this. You know as many stories as I do.”
Isabeau just looked mulish.
Elesbed said, coaxingly, “Think of how sad the duchess would be if you disappeared.”
“She’d be all right,” said Isabeau stoutly. “She’d have Brittany. And Henri.” She had a trick of keeping her eyes stretched wide so her tears didn’t fall. “And maybe enchantments,” she added and sniffed. “Maybe we can save all the realm with enchantments.”
Chapter
14
On the morning that Maximilienof Austria was to board the ship that would take him to Brittany, the king was slow to wake, which was unlike him. Then he stood at the casement of his window, indecisive, which was more unlike him still. He took watered wine, turning the cup in his hand, and instead of going down to the waiting ships, he called his councilors together, and his confessor too. This all took time, while his ships rocked at anchor, and their captains noted the turn of wind and tide and shook doubtful heads.
The councilors were assembled, and all of them heard when the king asked his confessor, “What does it mean if a person walks about after death?”
The startled confessor replied, “Why, that a grave sin was committed in life.”
Maximilien had a flat-headed hunting dog at his feet, and he reached down with uncharacteristic anxiety to pull the beast’s ears. The dog bared his teeth and was cuffed away. Maximilien said, “This person committed no sin at all; she was the best of women.”
Polhaim was there with the rest. At those words, he felt a creeping chill.
Delicately, the confessor inquired, “And you have seen this lady—”
“My lady wife,” said Maximilien. “Mary. For these three nights Ihave dreamed I heard her voice but never could I see her. This last night, knowing I was awake, I rose from my bed and pushed back the curtains and she was there, standing at the window as she was used. She did not hear my voice, though I called out to her.”
The confessor ventured, “A dream, perhaps, Sire?”
Maximilien was incensed at their doubt. “Do you not think I know the difference between dreams and waking? You shall all watch this night and we shall see.” The councilors shifted with a shimmer of silk, flash of light on chains of office.
Polhaim knew he had to speak. “Sire,” he said. “The tide will not wait.”
It was no good. “We must wait a day. Send the order to the captains.”
