“You needn’t be concerned…the stone is in trustworthy hands…” The words of the voice who spoke through the maid Rowena’s lips seemed to belong to another life, or to herald from a long-lost dream. Yet had not only a single day passed since he was given his clue to assist him in solving the mysterious curse that beset his blood?
“How?” His astonished will was only able to force the single word through his lips.
Elena blushed guiltily and admitted softly, “I found it by the river. I remembered seeing you wearing it.”
His brows creased together and he asked confused, “But you did not return it when you found it?”
Her color deepened and she shook her head. He waited in silence for her to continue, and reached down to regain possession of her hand as it appeared she might try to escape his question by fleeing from his side. He could see his query distressed her, but he was too curious to hear her answer to refrain from pressing her. Finally, in a voice so quiet he had to strain to hear her even across the slight distance separating them, she confessed, “I could see how you valued the stone and assumed it was a keepsake from a woman you treasured.”
His lips twitched at her guilty admission. “You were jealous.”
Her head was bowed and her shoulders slumped in abject desolation, but she didn’t deny his conclusion. “Yes.”
Curious, Michel asked, “Then why did you retrieve the stone? Why return it to me?”
Still avoiding meeting his probing glance, she replied, “You treasured it. I meant to return it to you before you entered the city for your conference with the nobles, but I didn’t see you that morning. When you were injured, I thought maybe it could help you.” While he was still trying to understand why she believed a stone could help him with his wound, she added in an even softer voice, “The stone is magic, isn’t it?”
Michel was too astonished by her question to keep his voice down, “Magic?” He echoed, chuckling. “What made you conclude the stone is magic?”
Elena finally braved meeting his eyes. “It turns blue in your possession. And it kept trying to get away from me. That was how I fell into the river that day. Then when Amele came to inform me you had been wounded in the battle with our enemies, I remembered I still had the stone. When it realized Amele was taking me to you, it seemed happy and no longer tried to escape from my hand. Then when I knelt by your side, for a moment it seemed to turn a blinding white in my hands before turning back to its usual dark appearance.”
“Escape from your hand?” Michel was careful to disguise his amusement at Elena’s fantastic account. Apparently he was not the only victim of Calei’s superstitious nature.
“Yes, it kept trying to get away from me. It even burned my hand when I held it.”
“What do you mean it burned your hand?”
Elena held her palm out for his inspection. The scar of the stone’s imprint could still be seen embedded in her soft flesh. Seeing it, Michel’s eyes knotted together. He’d never heard of the stone having any reaction when it was held by someone who was not in line to become its keeper. Certainly he’d never heard of it inflicting a painful burn on another. Maybe he’d been too quick to dismiss the legends surrounding the stone he’d listened avidly to around the fires of his grandmother’s camp when he was a boy. Pushing the matter of this fresh mystery aside, he slid his thumb across Elena’s scar in a soothing gesture, and then reluctantly released the hand he held.
“Thank you for returning the stone and for keeping it safe for me. You are right when you concluded it was a keepsake from a woman I treasure.” At Elena’s resigned nod and the glimmer of fresh tears in her eyes, he added gently, “Her name is Melissa. She is my twin sister.”
Elena’s head shot up. Her tears forgotten, she asked anxiously, “Your twin?”
Smiling, Michel nodded. “Yes. The stone is an heirloom of my mother’s family. It passes through the eldest daughter of the house. She entrusted its care to me when I informed her I was returning to Calei as a reminder of the bond we share and to wish me good luck in my quest.”
“Oh, then I’m very glad I restored your sister’s treasure to you,” Elena admitted naively.
Michel’s lips kicked up. “So am I. Thank you.”
Nodding in acknowledgment of his expression of gratitude, and with obvious reluctance, Elena allowed her hand to slide from his, then turned away from him and silently crossed the distance to the door. Without turning back, she just as silently left the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Amele waited for the sound of the door closing behind Elena before turning around to face the bed. “Bring the baron’s son to me,” Michel ordered in a harsh voice.
With a raised brow, but no comment, Amele nodded and approached the door. A moment later he stood aside while a young man about Michel’s age, still cloaked in his soldier’s garb, his face and garments stained with dirt and blood hesitantly preceded him into the room. The soldier kept his eyes downcast and Michel could read only defeat in his stance. “Come here,” Michel commanded and waited while the youngest son of the man who attempted to kill him shuffled across the room towards him.
When he reached Michel’s bedside he knelt beside the bed, his eyes still downcast, and his voice barely a whisper when he addressed him, “Your Highness.”
“Rise.” Michel waited for him to do so and then noticing the soldier still refused to look at him, asked, “What is your name?”
“Colin, Your Highness.”
Michel sighed impatiently. “Look at me when you speak to me, Colin.” When the boy raised his glance to his, Michel saw the stark fear revealed there and was moved to pity. He wondered how he would feel if their situations were reversed, if it had been his father who dishonored not only himself but his family by abandoning his pledge of fealty and had run a sword through the man he’d sworn to serve. “My commander tells me you fought bravely in defense of Calei.” The words were out before he knew what he was going to say.
The boy’s head shot up to probe Michel’s eyes as if searching for the lie in them. Despite the closeness in their ages, Michel could see the young man had yet to cross the line separating boyhood and manhood. If he survived and prospered after his father’s heinous deed, Michel had no doubt he would have crossed the dividing line between the two. The journey would not prove a gentle one. The first step was to face the challenge ahead.
“My father tried to kill you.” The words sounded as if he had to force them between clenched teeth, but Michel was impressed the traitor’s son did not try to hide behind them or obscure the damning fact.
“You are not your father,” Michel reminded him.
Tears stung the boy’s eyes and he fell to his knees. “Your Highness, I know there’s nothing I can do to make reparations for my father’s treachery, I only ask that whatever punishment you decree you exact it from me alone and not my mother and sisters.”
“And what punishment do you deem fitting for such an act of treason?”
The boy’s face lost all color at Michel’s quiet question. “There is no way to equal the scales, to undo what my father did. My life itself could not do so, but I offer it, Your Highness. I only ask that you allow my mother and sisters a home in your kingdom. Not, of course, my father’s estate, but a cottage perhaps and a small retainer so they are not forced to leave Calei.”
“You willingly offer to exchange your life for theirs?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Michel could see what his fierce vow cost the boy, but he didn’t back away from it, nor take it back. “Tell me, Colin, how does depriving Calei of one of its loyal defenders make reparation for your father’s treason?”
“Your Highness?” There was confusion in Colin’s hesitant question. Confusion, and the dawn of improbable hope.
“If you wish to make reparation for your father’s sin, you may serve my interests more effectively alive than dead.”
His eyes widening, Colin exclaimed fiercely, “Send me to the mines, Y
our Highness. I will do the work of ten men to repay my family’s debt to you.”
Michel leaned his head back against the pillows and briefly closed his eyes while his will struggled against his body’s pain. Annoyed at his own weakness, he replied sighing, “I would prefer, I think, that you train as a member of the king’s guard.”
“The king’s guard, Your Highness?” Colin was so astonished by his suggestion; the boy could only echo it in a hushed whisper.
“Yes, you will report to the captain of the guard in the morning. Return to your mother and sisters and assure them they may remain in their home for as long as you serve me well. Your family’s ability to continue doing so now rests upon your shoulders. See that you do not let them down.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Thank you, Sire. I will train diligently and study hard.”
When the door closed on Colin’s fervent pledge, Michel felt Amele’s considering glance upon him. “Whenever I am convinced I know what you will do, you manage to surprise me. That was well done of you, my king. Though not everyone will understand, nor agree with your considerable act of mercy towards the boy and the baron’s widow and daughters.”
“The boy fought bravely, did he not?”
“Yes, by all accounts.”
“You believe he knew what his father planned?”
“No. Frankly I’m not certain it was planned. The baron saw an opportunity and he acted upon it. Foolishly, rashly, definitely. He took a calculated risk and lost.”
“That is one way to think of it,” Despite his pain, Michel lips twitched at his mentor’s cold assessment of the traitor’s heinous deed.
“Yes, and now that you are safe and I know you will recover, I am not displeased with the way things worked out. Two strong challengers to your rule are now dead. It is unlikely we would have rooted out Baron James’ true plans quickly, nor once his treachery was discovered could you have treated him as mercifully as you did his son. He would have been too dangerous an adversary. But his own men sent him to hell, without you needing to act, or set his punishment which may have garnered sympathy for the baron’s memory.”
“Instead, you act mercifully on behalf of the son and widow and daughters of the man who attempted to murder you. The threat of his treachery has been removed and its result has been to solidify your position as king. Did not King Barnabas say he’d spent twenty years trying to unite the nobles behind the crown? Yet, in a single night, you have accomplished what he was never able to.”
“There are members of every noble family waiting in the hall outside this chamber, all united in their concern for their new king. In the same twenty four hours, you have sent a message to our enemies that if they think to attack Calei they will pay a high price for their daring. I think you have not only removed the two strongest challengers to your rule from within Calei, but you have also struck a heavy blow against the strongest challenge to your rule from outside Calei’s borders. All in all, you have enjoyed remarkable success on your first day on the throne.”
Michel’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yes, thank you for pointing out the advantages of having a sword run through my back and chest. I should no doubt be grateful to the baron for his service.”
Amele’s amused glance met his. “Let us not get carried away,” he commented drily, then added, stroking a gentle hand across Michel’s damp brow. “Rest now, my king. I will stand watch. Tomorrow is a new day and you will need all your strength to confront it.”
Chapter Sixteen
Amele’s prediction proved prophetic. Michel was happy his youth and excellent physical health sped along his recovery from his near mortal wound, because there was no denying he needed to call on all of his remaining strength to address the demands of his new position. Even after he rose from his bed, he tired easily and the pain of his wound lingered. He often found himself fingering the Salusian stone that once more lay against his flesh on the thin silver chain that had been repaired with the broken clasp reinforced by one of the Caleinian artisans. He and the stone appeared to have come to a truce of sorts. The tight fit of the chain around his neck no longer annoyed him as it once did and he discovered he found the stone’s warmth and weight a surprising comfort to him in his trials. Of which he found there were a surprising number.
Before ascending to his birthright Michel had no clear notion of the demands on a king’s time. Being his father’s youngest son and with no expectation of inheriting his vast estates, Michel had not concerned himself with the myriad of details it took to keep his father’s lands running smoothly. He wished now he’d been more attentive to his father’s attempts to teach him land management and felt the stirrings of real regret at their largely distant relationship while the duke lived. Accompanying his regret was a very near grief that he would not be given the opportunity to repent of his sometimes careless indifference towards the man who gave him life.
He had been too busy to properly mourn his parents’ and brothers’ deaths, and too concerned with the prospect of his sisters’ fates at the hands of the invading Norman army, to fully comprehend the loss of his family, but more and more his thoughts dwelt on those who’d come before him and who accompanied him into this life, and he couldn’t help but wonder at the futility of it all.
What was the point of striving for justice when a man’s friends could so easily put aside their own honor and slit his throat for the promise of gold and power? What was the point of ascending to a throne when a man was denied the comfort of a wife and sons to give meaning to his days and provide soft comfort to his nights? Michel was not certain he completely believed an ancient bane was the cause of so much of the death attributed to it, but he could not argue that the citizens’ of Calei’s perception was that the curse was real. Whether it was a curse or those who merely sought to take advantage of its usefulness as a handy excuse for the evil of men’s deeds, it hardly mattered to its victims if the end result was the same.
Amele had reported back to him that Gabriel knew no more than he did in regards to the curse’s origins. Gabriel also reported that Barnabas had been understandably frustrated, despite perusing the castle’s extensive library, and his predecessors personal papers, by the lack of information regarding either the origin of the curse or the references to the daughter of the moon and the heart of the sun contained within the clue he was given to solve it.
The spirit who spoke through the voice of the maid Rowena had apparently not lied when he stated the clue had remained unchanged through the long march of years. The same clue was recorded in every king’s personal journal that remained in the keep’s possession:
‘When the daughter of the moon captures the heart of the sun the curse will be lifted.’
Was the daughter of the moon a living woman then? It seemed unlikely, as even if the words of the curse had at some point referred to a living woman, she would be long dead by now. Perhaps a female descendant of hers would satisfy the terms of the curse. Even if he were able to make such a connection to a family who still had connections to Calei, a rather fantastic leap to be sure, what in the name of all that was holy did the heart of the sun refer to? Was this imaginary woman, assuming she existed at all, then supposed to fly like a bird to the sky and carve out a piece of the sun? The premise was ridiculous, and damned frustrating when so much relied on its resolution.
Even with so much of his future seemingly tangled up in the fantastic whims of an ancient curse; it was some weeks before he was able to carve out time to seek out the young bishop to ask him if the church maintained any records in regards to it. In the interim he had been swamped with the many duties and responsibilities of simply running the day to day affairs of his kingdom. While his ascension to the throne was a very recent one, Barnabas’ long illness and his inability to address issues as they arose meant that there was a backlog of numerous petty and some not so petty decisions that only the king could affirmatively act on.
The most important of these was ensuring the future security of the
city and its citizens. His own men were a welcome addition to the existing forces, but Michel commanded each of the noble families to send a company of men on a rotating basis so that everyone who most benefitted from Calei’s wealth also played a part in seeing to its defense. This seemingly simple request entailed several meetings with the heads of the noble families to work through the number of men to be assigned to the guard of the city and the mountain passes, the length of time the soldiers would serve the throne, who would be responsible for their training, and whether or not they would report to their own commanders or be assimilated into the king’s men for the length of their service.
Of immediate concern and of almost equal importance to the security of their own boundaries was to ensure the safety of the trade routes over the mountains. Calei was some distance from the great cities of Paris or Rome and if it were not for the rich gems and gold to be found in the surrounding mountains, there would be no reason for merchants and tradesmen to make Calei a stop on their regular trading routes. It was inconvenient enough for travelers and tradesmen alike to travel the lengthy, sometimes, depending on the weather, uncomfortable distance to conduct business with Calei, if that travel was accompanied by worries over being attacked in the mountains by murderous thieves, the source of Calei’s wealth and consequently its very existence would be threatened.
In addition to security matters, Michel was forced to concern himself with housing the additional men and their horses who accompanied him to Calei. There was plenty of land at his disposal, and willing hands to do the work, but setting an overseer in charge, making certain the wages were paid to all who served the king and the keep, meeting with the heads of the mining operations, meting out justice when called upon to do so, and just dealing with the seemingly unending demands for his time and attention left him very little time for his personal concerns, even if one of those concerns involved a curse that plagued the royal bloodline.
Lynn Wood - Norman Brides 03 Page 18
