It wasn’t long, however, before he arrived. He was dressed in the same clothes he wore on the trail and still looked haggard from the road, haphazard hair pushed to the side. He scanned his men and when he saw her, he smiled. He shared a quick exchange with Laurent. Then he sat at the far end of the table for his meal... and stared right at her.
Alex felt like an animal caught. She looked away and then back again, but he was still watching her. A flame of panic went over her. What was this all about? Did he want her to see him choose a girl for himself? So she would be sure he was no longer interested? Maybe seeing him kiss another like he had kissed her—hard, but at the same time soft—would take away its magic.She fluttered inside, thinking about the kiss. She grabbed her cup to take a gulp of water but missed her mouth and splashed it down her shirt. She looked up, and he was still watching.Dammit. If every night was going to be like this, she would go eat in the stables with the horses. She focused on her bowl, determined to finish her meal and get out of there before she saw Philippe with his hand up some maid’s skirt. But every time she looked, he was still alone, just watching her. No hands in any maids that she could see.
By the time she was taking the last spoonful of her meal, the men had begun disappearing with their dates. Auguste fell off his seat in a drunken stupor to a raucous round of laughter. Alex took the commotion as her own cue to stand up and stretch, ready to head back to her room. But once she did, she saw Philippe, across the hall, do just the same. She dropped a coin on the table, and he did the same. She wrapped her shawl around her; he adjusted his coat. Then as she turned and made her way to the exit, she felt him do so as well. In the cool night, they crossed the short alley that led to the inn, watching each other. The doors to the inn were propped open and Alex went inside. For a fleeting second, she wondered if he planned to follow her to her room and a cascade ofyesesandnoswent through her. But when she turned to go down the hall leading towards her room, Philippe remained at the archway to the barracks.
“Goodnight, Alex,” he called. Then he smiled and winked at her and disappeared into the darkness of the room.
She stood there a moment, wondering what had just happened. Then she shook her head. It had to all be a coincidence.
Chapter Eleven
The next day, they stood at the blackened farm they had passed on their way in. The sun just over the horizon, many of the men were hanging back by their horses, the activities from the night before still keeping their eyes droopy. A high-ranking lord was at Philippe’s side, explaining what was known about the attack. Alex kicked through the rubble as they talked.
“The owner of the farm said he saw three men on foot,” the man said. He had a high brow and thick, swept back white hair. He was proud, but there was a layer of nervousness just below the surface. “But it was dark, and he could tell no more.”
“Three men could hardly burn a farm of this scale that fast,” Philippe countered, bending to pick through the rubble. “There had to have been more.” He trailed off. “No one had any ill will against the family?”
“Not that we know of.”
“Did the family survive the attack?” Alex asked.
The lord turned to her. “Yes,Mademoiselle.” He nodded. “They are safe. Destitute, but safe.”
Alex strode away as the men talked, kicking a trail across the path. She pushed a fallen beam over with her foot, looking for any hint as to who these men were. She walked around the back of what had been the main house,tracing the tarry bones of a wooden fence until she came across a well with stones greased and blackened by the smoke. Alex swept some debris aside and her eyes darted over the earth she had uncovered. There, cooked into the dirt, were a series of footprints. She kicked back more of the rubble, unearthing the story of the night. She tallied the prints then let out a high-pitched whistle, calling the men.
“There were eight of them,” she explained when Philippe and the lord were in range. She nodded towards the trail leading away. “The three the owner saw came out last. The rest were already back here with the horses.”
Philippe came closer to inspect the trail. “That seems more likely.” He squatted down and touched the earth. “Eight men. Eight horses. That means they have money.” He sifted the dirt between his fingers, lost in thought. “Why would they attack a farmer?” he mused before standing up.
The question lingered as they finished their investigation. They left shortly thereafter. Their next stop, Lantosque, would be a day and a half journey through easy, albeit rocky, country. The road was well-known since many merchants and mercenaries traveled this strip of towns up the countryside. Heavily wooded mountains stood far to the west, bordering Provence, while the river grew wide in this region, spilling a thousand tributaries into the lowlands and making the terrain lush and cool, a treat for the horses. As they rode, the men traded theories about their targets. Privileged French youths out to make trouble; Puritan zealots frustrated with slackening morals after the war; revolutionaries who thought they would make better nobles than the current ones—it was still too soon to tell.
As night approached, they stopped to camp in a small clearing filled with blue chicory flowers and surrounded by elms. The men threw out their bedrolls while the camp porter tended to the food and drink. Alex took a few steps away to wash up in a nearby stream. She scanned the area and began pulling young saplings down into knots. She’d become proficient at setting traps over the years and had a method of positioning a set of noisy whip-traps to alert her if anyone tried to sneak up on her in the night. She bent another young branch to secure it and plucked a leaf of wild mint from a bush. She put it in her mouth and chewed as she worked. If tripped, thesnares wouldn’t do much more than wake her up, but they had saved her butt a few times and always helped to make her feel a little safer.
Once she felt good about doing what she could to secure the area, she reentered the camp. She was surprised to see that the camp looked as though it had been set up hours ago. The horses were tied off and nibbling at thick stalks of grass, the fire was blazing with a cauldron of soup steaming over it, and the men were sitting around the fire or on their nearby bedrolls. Alex was impressed. Soon the porter whistled for dinner, and she grabbed a bowl. Then she sat on a nearby log and watched her travel companions as she ate, her feet stretched out in front of her.
Alex had traveled with many different parties of men before, but she’d felt a quick camaraderie with this group that she wasn’t used to. Maybe because she didn’t have to do the usual convincing that she was capable or remind anyone that she had a sword to protect herself from any advances. Maybe it was simply that they were a friendly group who kept her entertained. Either way, she was growing to care for these scruffy rascals with whom she traveled, she thought, while she spied Henri across the camp as he accidentally dipped his long beard into his soup.
As the rest settled down with their food, Bernard and Luc began singing a song about a bawdy lady who was missing a leg— “She’ll wrap one leg around you.With the other, confound you! That’s the way of the lioness whore...”
“It’s ‘Lyonnaise’ whore,” Maurice hollered at them, laughing. He rose to take another helping from the cauldron over the fire. “She’s fromLyon. She’s not a three-legged lion, you idiots.”
Claude looked up from his bowl. “I’ve been singing it wrong my whole life.”
Maurice sat next to Claude and slapped him on the back. “Stick with me, kid. I know all kinds of dirty songs I can teach you. Correctly.” He laughed again, and together, the men started the song from the top.
Philippe seemed to be paying little attention to the rest of the group and was instead busy checking supplies and preparing for the next days’ journey. Alex let her eyes and attention follow him and wondered again what he hoped to gain from this mission. Despite his competency as their leader so far, she feared the spoiled boy would come out again. Part of her was afraid to put too much trust in him. She feared their mission would fail if Philippecouldn’t handle the responsibility. She watched him at the center of camp as he took a bowl of soup for himself. Then he looked her way. She worried for a moment he would spend the whole night staring at her again, but this time, he came across the camp to sit right next to her. Alex tensed at the sudden closeness.
“How is your horse holding up?” he asked as he sat.
“Very well,” she answered, eyeing him. She was still unsure if she could relax around him, but if he were to continue to offer peace, she would continue to accept. “He is used to these trails.”
“We will need to look at the maps tomorrow evening to plan out which route we will take north of Aliette.”
“I have been consulting with Henri. He has more knowledge of the area than I gave him credit,” Alex said. “We believe we have a good plan for getting there safely.”
“Do you have everything you need?” he asked. “Are you comfortable traveling with us?”
“I am used to much worse,” she admitted with a small smile. Since he seemed intent on conversing with her, she decided to just ask the question on her mind. “Excusez-moi,Monsieur,but I would request that you clear something up for me,” she said, glancing toward him.
