Courting Darkness (His Fair Assassin 4)

“The same thing that you want, Madame Regent. To ensure the power and legitimacy of France. I think we can all agree that the sooner the queen is with child, the better for all concerned. Surely providing an heir is the best way to ensure the pope delivers the much-needed dispensation? The pope would never allow the dauphin of France to be called a bastard.”

She stares at me a long, hard minute. “You’re right, Lady Sybella. I appreciate the discretion you exercised in bringing this to my attention. I will be certain it is addressed in an appropriate way.” She stands, taking a moment to straighten her skirts. “Does the queen know of this?”

I rise to my feet as well. “No, Madame. I felt that if the problem went away, she need never know. I see no sense in hurting her with such information.”

She looks at me, a faint glimmer of approval in her eyes. “Good. It will be taken care of. Now, if you will excuse me, I will leave you to your prayers.”

I do not think she would be so willing to leave me to my prayers if she knew how many of them involved asking for deliverance from her.

Chapter 77

Genevieve

n the afternoon of the fourth day of our travels with Shrewsbury, Maraud draws his horse to the side of the road and points. “There.” Up ahead is a crossroad marker. “The west fork leads to Brittany, the north to Tours.”

“The west, of course,” Jorn says.

As we draw nearer the fork in the road, I realize the marker is not a sign, but a cross made of ancient knobby wood, polished white with age.

The road that curves west has a steam running along the south of it. Gallopine, thirsty, makes for the water’s edge. I dismount to let her drink, and the others do the same. While the brook burbles cheerfully enough, a thick silence lies over the small valley. On the northern slope are two granite outcroppings. No. Not outcroppings, but ancient standing stones. I look back over my shoulder to the cross in the road, staring at it more carefully. It is not made of wood. The realization scuttles along my spine like a tiny spider. “What is this place?” I ask Maraud in a low voice.

He glances up to see if the others are within earshot. “One of Saint Camulos’s old shrines.” His gaze moves over the stones, the wood grove, and back to the stones. “The French might not recognize him any longer, but his shrines and old altars are still known to some. It is also why the road is less traveled. It is an old, old road from a much earlier time.”

That explains why the air feels not only heavy, but thinner as well. As if just on the other side of it, the gods sit watching. It is most unsettling, yet wondrous as well. I look back at the cross. “What sort of bones are those?”

Maraud regards me steadily. “You already know the answer to that question.”

Just then Jorn comes barging over. “How far to the coast from here?”

“Three days.”

“I don’t know how long the captain will hold our ship, so after your horses are watered, let’s move out.”

“Actually,” Maraud says, “this is where Lucinda and I part ways with you.”

Jorn takes a step closer. “That was not our agreement.” His ire draws the attention of the others.

“If you’ll remember, we never actually agreed to anything besides traveling with you as long as our roads went in the same direction. Here is where they do not.”

Jorn crosses his arms across his chest and plants his legs wide, as if he is some barrier we dare not pass. Shrewsbury hurries over, his casual arrogance giving way to dismay. “Surely you don’t mean that? Your knowledge has been invaluable to us.”

“You don’t need it anymore. I’ve saved you two days’ travel time and steered you clear of those who would follow you. That is more than enough compensation for the men you lost, especially since it was self-defense.”

Jorn glowers at Maraud. Neither man blinks. Slowly, I slip my hand into my pouch, nudging aside the vial and the wax pearls until my hand closes around the silver box. “We will make you come with us. Tie you to your horses if need be.”

Maraud laughs. “What will that gain you? Do you think I will happily call out directions while chained to my horse?”

Jorn’s face reddens with anger, but Tomas calls out. “Cease your bickering and come look at this.” He points back to the road.

In the far distance, a party of mounted knights approach. Jorn whirls on Maraud. “I told you we were not free of our enemies!”

Ignoring him, Maraud hops up on a boulder, shielding his eyes from the glare to get a better view. “I don’t think they’re after you.”

My head snaps up.

“Then who? You?” Jorn scowls. “You brought danger upon us?”

Maraud hops back down from the boulder. “Didn’t mean to. Besides, you waylaid me, remember?”

“D’Albret?” I ask under my breath.

Maraud nods, too distracted to boast that he’s been right all this time.

Shrewsbury frowns. “How many are there?”

“Twenty. And they’re approaching fast.”

“We are seven against twenty!” Shrewsbury’s voice goes high with concern. “Can we get off the road and let them pass? Surely that will be the fastest way to get rid of them.”

“Except there are no good hiding places nearby. They will see you before you reach the trees.”

“What do we do?”

“Fight or run,” Maraud says.

“This is your fight, mercenary,” Jorn says. “Not ours. We will not be dragged into it.”

Crespin says more calmly, “Our first duty is to our lord. We must protect him at all costs.”

“Then you’d best get going. These men will not care about your loyalty if you are in the way of what they want.”

“But what of you?” Tomas looks faintly uneasy.

“I’ll run. And when I can’t run any longer, I’ll fight.”

Just as I wonder what he thinks I will be doing this entire time, he shoots me a long, intense look. “But take Lucinda with you.”

“What?” I stare at him in horror.

Jorn and Tomas exchange a glance, then look to Shrewsbury, who nods his agreement.

“You hay-wit! Just because those cowards are leaving you to fight alone doesn’t mean I will.”

Maraud grabs me by the arm and walks me away from the others. “Stop it.” He gives my arm a shake. “D’Albret wants me. Not you. They may hurt me, but they’ll keep me alive because their lord wants me alive. I can’t guarantee they’ll grant you the same courtesy.”

I will not accept this. Not accept that I am powerless to help.

“Lucinda, these men are capable of terrible cruelty. You’ve seen them fight. You’ve seen how little they care for fairness or honor. I assure you, they are capable of many vile things. Things I could not bear any woman to suffer, especially not you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but Maraud tightens his grip on my arm and thrusts me at Jorn. “Take her away from here. Now.”

He strides over to his horse and vaults into the saddle. “Hurry,” he says. “They are almost at the fork. Best if they don’t see you. If they do, they might not be able to resist giving chase.”

That spurs the men to action. Jorn picks me up, carries me over to Gallopine, and dumps me in the saddle. Tomas has already mounted and draws alongside me. “You know he is right about this,” he says. “Can we trust you to come of your own accord, or must I take control of your reins?”

“I’ll come willingly,” I promise even while plotting a way to get free. Not because I am stupid—?Maraud is right. I do not want to imagine the cruelty Pierre could inflict. But it is my fault he must face them at all. I may have freed him from the oubliette, but I also put him in d’Albret’s path.

He also did not ask for the antidote, which disturbs me. Does he not intend to be taken alive?

Fortunately, Shrewsbury’s men are focused on getting their lord to safety and their allegiance to Maraud is slim. A quarter mile down the road, when I turn Gallopine and head back, there is only a halfhearted protest.

Tomas alone rides after me—?hoping to stop me, I think. Until he unhooks one of the crossbows from his saddle and holds it out to me. “Here. You will need this.”

As I take it from him, he gives me a nod, then turns to catch up to the others.

Chapter 78

’Albret’s troops are not yet in sight, so I steer Gallopine toward the grove of linden trees and use them to hide my approach. By the time I reach their cover, d’Albret’s men are at the fork. The bulk of their party advances down after us, but a smaller group keeps riding north. Are they heading to Tours on other business? Or planning to surround us?