The Valcourt Heiress (Medieval Song 7)

“How could anyone tell you anything at all since only Arthur knew where he’d hidden the silver? How did you even know the silver was here?”

“His men helped him, mayhap women too. Aye, I knew the silver was here. It was Arthur’s damned home. Of course he brought the silver here. He deserved nothing, do you hear me? His people deserved nothing! They lied to me just as he did!” Suddenly his rage overcame his desire to survive. He screamed, “By Saint Bartholomew’s gilded heart, I hate this place! I delighted in killing all your brother’s people, do you hear me, worthless wretches, all of them!”

There was stark silence in the great hall. Then Garron heard murmuring amongst his people, his people who had lost so many to this idiot.

Garron said, “We will speak more of that presently. What did you do to my brother?”

“I did nothing to him, merely took him to a cottage near my home. I waited and waited, but he didn’t wake up from the drug. I had no choice but to go again to the witch, and she gave me another plan.” Jason whirled on Sir Halric, and his voice was bitter as salt on ice. “You did not argue about the ruse, did you? You said you believed you could convince the starving beggars within these walls to let you in to help them. You did not suggest we should continue to wait to see if Arthur woke up. It was all your fault, damn you, not mine. And you failed yet again, just as you did the first time.”

Jason was panting now. “Aye, the witch told you the amount of potion to pour into Arthur’s ale, but your man obviously gave him too much. It is all your fault, Halric, all of it!”

Sir Halric grabbed him by the neck. He screamed right in his face, “Just listen to you—you claimed the Black Demon and the Retribution was all your idea. I never believed you, never, but I remember well how you preened and strutted about.” And Sir Halric struck his jaw with his fist.

Garron believed Jason of Brennan’s heart would burst out of his chest. His face was the color of the blood still slowly seeping through the white bandage. “How dare you strike me? I will kill you for that, Halric! The witch demanded that I kill you, but I did not. Because of you I have lost not only the silver coins, I have lost Valcourt to this bastard!”

“But I am not a bastard,” Garron said. “I gather that Arthur finally woke up, didn’t he? And since you knew exactly where to find the silver, you tortured him, didn’t you, to make him confess the hiding place. Did the witch also give you the plan to get into Wareham this time, disguised as an old tinker and his wife?”

“Aye. It is all her doing, every plan, every ruse. I remembered finally when I was lying in your cell that the witch had magicked me, the wicked creature made me do all of it. None of it was my fault!”

“My mother is not a creature!”

49

The silence in the great hall was absolute. Garron knew he heard Merry’s harsh breathing. He raised his hand to hold her silent.

Robert Burnell’s rich deep voice broke the silence. “There is something I wish to know. Jason of Brennan, you said the silver coins belonged to your father. How did Lord Ranulf come by all this silver?”

Garron watched Jason of Brennan slowly turn to face the Chancellor of England. It seemed to Garron in that moment that Burnell looked larger, more formidable. He looked like God, a very angry God, all he needed was a raised staff in his hand.

Jason said, “My father always had the silver. I knew nothing of it until I chanced upon him with the silver when I was but a young boy. He was sitting on the floor of his solar, piles of silver coins surrounded him, and he was counting the coins. He was happy, I could hear it in his voice and see it on his face. It is one of the few times I have ever seen my father happy, before or since. He was counting out loud and he sounded like he was speaking to a friend, or mayhap to a lover, given how he caressed the individual coins. When he saw me standing there, he didn’t yell at me or strike me. Nay, he beckoned me to him and said, ‘Behold, this is Arlette’s gift to our line, Jason. You will never tell a soul about it or I will cut off your tongue and feed it to you. It is our secret. When I am gone, you will take my place, and it will be your turn to guard the silver. You will hold it close, Jason, else you will die a horrible death, and our line will die. Do you understand me?’

“I did not understand then and I do not understand now. Was the silver cursed? If it were spent, would the one who spent it die this horrible death? How could our line die?

“And I wondered who this Arlette was and how long the silver had been in our family, and so I asked him. He whispered her name again—‘Arlette’—and his voice was reverent. ‘She drew power from the ancient oak trees, it was told to me. The silver was given to her by countless men who wished her favor. She lived so very long ago.’ He said no more, and I didn’t either, I was too afraid. I remember I told him I understood, and he told me to leave him and never, never tell another soul what I had seen.”

Burnell said, “Then why did you tell Arthur of the silver?”

Jason lowered his head. “I was young, only fifteen. Arthur was eighteen. He and I fought together in a tourney held outside York. We wenched that night, and drank too much ale. He’d beaten me and I suppose I wanted to tell him something that made him feel insignificant, as he was, and so I told him about my family’s treasure. The next morning, I remembered I’d told him and I knew such fear I believed I’d choke on it. When I asked him if he remembered my telling him a tale of silver treasure, he laughed at me, claimed he didn’t remember anything, for he’d drunk himself into a stupor. He never said anything to me about it so I believed he had indeed forgotten. We went our own ways after the tourney.”

“Did you tell him where your father had hidden the silver?”

He said, “I must have, but I do not remember.”

“Did you tell your father what you had done?”

“By all the saints, no! He would have cut out my tongue and fed it to me! My father never makes threats he doesn’t mean.”

Burnell’s voice was so low now, Jason had to lean toward him to hear. “So, because you remained silent in your treachery, your father had no warning at all.”

“I tell you, Arthur did not remember! Nothing happened, nothing, do you hear me? Years passed. Years! Then when I was fighting in France with a kinsman, my father sent a message to me, telling me someone had struck him down and stolen the silver from its hiding place. He told me I was the only one who knew of the treasure, even my mother did not know.

“I wasn’t about to tell him about Arthur, I dared not else he would have rendered me tongueless, and probably cast me off. I swore to him that I’d never told anyone, but I do not think he believed me. He looked at me sometimes when he did not think I was watching. There was disbelief in his eyes, and I knew to my soul that he knew as well. And I was afraid, but I did not know what to do.”

Sir Halric said, contempt in his voice, “Of course Lord Ranulf knew you’d given up the secret, he’d always known, he simply did not know about Arthur. Lord Ranulf told me what you’d done and set me to watch you five years ago. He hoped you would speak to me of it, and you did finally when you realized you had to have my help.”

Jason turned on him. He would have clouted him, but when he raised his arm, he felt a shaft of pain in his head so great he nearly fell to his knees. He screamed, “You mangy whoreson! I believed you were my man, but you were naught but a spy for my father! You betrayed me!”

Sir Halric gave him a sneer. “Aye, you should have seen Lord Ranulf roar with laughter when I told him how the witch of Meizerling Abbey had you under her thumb, how you’d told her of the silver coins but you didn’t know how to get them. She promised you she would arrange for you to wed with her daughter, the heiress of Valcourt, if you brought her the silver. Lord Ranulf couldn’t wait to see what her plan was.