Chatelaine of Forez

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Chatelaine of Forez Page 5

by Vijaya Schartz


  Still, something ate at Artaud's gut. "Do you think you can ever love me like you loved the great knight Sigefroi?"

  "In time, I believe I will." Her voice sounded like a musical instrument. "I grow fonder of you each day."

  He couldn't tear his gaze from her smiling lips, slightly parted and so close, so inviting. When she wet them with the tip of her tongue, he strengthened his hold and brushed them with his. She exhaled so close, her breath smelled of sweet anise. Then she looped her arms around his neck. The pressure of her generous breasts against his leather jerkin was delicious torture.

  Unable to resist any longer, he licked her sweet, rosy lips. She nibbled at his, sending jolts of desire rushing through his entire body. Emboldened by her ardor, he tasted her, then explored the smooth recesses of her mouth, drank from it like from a fountain of life. The lady matched his frenzy, shifting against him, heating his desire.

  He would go mad if he did not withdraw, yet he knew the separation of their bodies would bring him pain and longing. Just as he gathered the will to step back, Lady Melusine pushed gently on his chest with both hands. He met her clear, bewitching gaze.

  Her sweet face grew serious. "My lord, I believe both of us know we are truly meant for each other... in every way."

  "Without a doubt, my lady." He chuckled. "I look forward to more of these delicious treats."

  "And other things as well." The light pressure of her hand on his arm held such promise.

  Visions of her, naked on his bed, heated his blood. "Are you anticipating more than a kiss?"

  "I do, indeed, my lord." She smiled devilishly. "But not until we are properly wed."

  The prospect made him tingle all over. "Then, we have a betrothal to plan."

  More than ever Artaud needed Melusine. Not only in his bed, but to design his castles. To withstand the coming battles, he would also need the protection of the Great One... but he dreaded the price he might have to pay for it. His ancestors had forfeited their very lives over such alliances.

  * * *

  Late fall 1028

  While Melusine supervised the construction of Essalois, Artaud organized the shelves of his library of Montarcher. His first shipment of books had arrived from his late father's residence in Lyon. Although a warrior at heart, Artaud loved the smell of scrolls, parchments, and books. His father had taught him the love of study and knowledge. Ancient knowledge and philosophy above all.

  He vaguely remembered a certain parchment that had held his attention as a child. He brushed the scrolls and blew off dust to read the few words at the outside edge of each of them. Here it was. A History of Sigefroi, the Lion of Luxembourg.

  Artaud untied the strings, unrolled the scroll on the table, then bent to study the perfect calligraphy of the Latin words. Why did monks have to write in Latin? He understood it, of course, but why not write in a language people actually spoke in the land?

  Going through the lines, he found the passage that had intrigued him as a boy. A mention of Lady Melusine of Luxembourg. He read slowly, savoring every word, keeping in mind that Christians, not Pagans had written this account. Then he found the obscure paragraph he hadn't been able to translate in childhood. His grasp of Latin had matured since then.

  Artaud read and re-read the few lines then straightened in surprise as he finally understood. The scroll, free of the pressure of his hands, rolled upon itself with a dry rasp, hiding the terrifying words.

  Artaud gaped at what he'd just read. His heart beat like a battle drum.

  No. It could not be. His worst fears had materialized.

  ‘Twas too late to recall his missive to the archbishop. Artaud shuddered at the consequences. He may have condemned his entire family to a horrible death.

  Chapter Five

  First Wednesday of December 1028

  Melusine flipped her serpent tail and splashed into the chilly waters. In ondine shape, she didn't mind the December cold. She would have to tell Artaud about her curse eventually, but she hadn't summoned the courage, yet. Despite their growing fondness for each other, he might reject the water creature she became during her monthly transformations. She could not afford to compromise their betrothal, and would wait for the right opportunity.

  Although she hated these cursed Wednesdays, Melusine enjoyed exploring the many rivers, lakes and swamps bathing the forested hills of Forez. Today, she followed the current down the frosty length of the River Lignon.

  At the sound of voices around the bend, Melusine flicked her hand, weaving a glamour of invisibility, so no human could see her. She extended her keen Fae senses. Sentinels on the rocky heights watched the old Roman road below. What was happening?

  She swam carefully, hoping no one would notice the swirling eddy in her wake. As she emerged behind a protruding boulder, she shook the water off her long hair and focused on the activity ahead. Soldiers, she deduced from their surcoats and rough language. Silently, she floated around the boulder to take a better look.

  Many shields, lined up on the snowy bank, displayed the crest of the Damas family, a red, anchored cross, on a field of gold. Along with the shields and swords, boots lay abandoned on the gravelly shore.

  What where the soldiers doing, bent over, knee high into the glacial waters? Approaching closer, Melusine saw the square wooden sieves and the gaping tunnel of the old Roman mine in the cliff. She sensed human activity in the depths as well. On the bank, men seated on low boulders, hammered chunks of rock to free the shiny bits and wash them in the water.

  By the Great Goddess, they were mining Artaud's gold! She wagered Artaud knew naught about it. This mine had been abandoned over a century ago. These men were stealing... but for themselves, or for their lord?

  Controlling her breathing for fear to attract attention, Melusine ventured even closer.

  "Why should one lord have all the gold in Forez?" one soldier sneered as he picked a shiny fleck from the sieve and examined it carefully. "There is enough for many lords... even for us."

  "Shut up and work," a young knight barked under his frosted breath. "You want all of Forez to find out what we are doing?"

  "Sorry, Lord Abelar." The soldier signaled to another man, who offered a wooden bowl. The soldier dropped the bit of gold into it and returned to sieving.

  "Lord Artaud might object." The knight named Abelar emitted a nasty chuckle. "But ‘tis naught compared to what Lord Damas will do to you, if you pilfer a single scrap of his gold."

  The soldier nodded, eyes on his work. "I know what he does to thieves."

  "Good. Then shut up and work." Knight Abelar took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Lord Damas expects his usual yield by nightfall."

  "Aye." The soldier refilled and shook the sieve with renewed focus.

  Lord Damas. Of course. Such a shrewd and perverted baron would not hesitate to appropriate the wealth of his overlord. Artaud was too trusting. He should guard his gold mines.

  Melusine glanced at the dreary sky. She couldn't see the descending sun through the clouds, but it was getting late in the afternoon. She must return to the safety of her palatial cave before sunset, or she would regain human shape, naked in the frigid river.

  Swimming like a fish along the intricate web of familiar waterways, Melusine reached Fae lake, as the locals dubbed it. Of course, they could only see part of it. A constant fog veiled the rocky peninsula where she resided.

  Swimming through the mist, Melusine found her way to a granite overhang. She took a deep breath then dove under it. She swam up the underwater tunnel. A circle of golden light above told her she was safely home. She propelled herself upward and broke the surface of the indoor pool to take a deep breath.

  Within moments, when the sun dipped, her transformation would occur. She flipped the water from her hair and opened her eyes. Torchlight flooded the underground of her palatial cave.

  She gasped at the scowling knight in black leather standing at the rocky edge of the pool, feet apart, fists on his hips.

&nb
sp; "Lord Artaud!" Her heart raced like a runaway destrier. "How did you find this place?"

  She suddenly remembered he could see through magic. But she was in ondine form, and she'd told him naught about her curse. Too late now. She should have told him. Dear Goddess, protect me now.

  * * *

  Artaud held his breath at the sight. Not the vision of Lady Melusine's naked breasts, those were perfect, as he'd observed before... but the lower part of her body was a long fishtail with golden scales.

  He swallowed a knot in his throat, and his heart pounded against his ribs. "I refused to believe the tale, but there is no denying it now."

  "My lord, let me explain." She sounded scared, out of breath.

  He could clearly see her golden body and the fishtail undulating in the clear water of the green pool. Still, he could not believe what he saw. "What are you? A mermaid?"

  "An ondine, my lord. A woman most of the time, except on the first Wednesday of each month, when I become this water creature from the waist down."

  "Just as I read in the scroll... from sundown on Tuesday to sunset on Wednesday." He shuddered with disgust at the idea of mating with a giant fish.

  The woman he'd slowly come to love, the woman he'd asked to be his bride, was a monster. Although he cared deeply for Lady Melusine, he could not possibly invite a fish into his bed... into his family. What would their children be? And if discovered, this little secret could send them all burning at the stake.

  "No wonder my ancestors had such trouble getting along with immortals, if they conceal such horrible secrets."

  "‘Tis my curse." Her musical voice pulled at secret strings in his chest. "At least for now."

  Artaud couldn't let her manipulate him with her wiles. "A curse?"

  She lowered her gaze to the water. "The Great One punished me for a grave mistake I made as a youth."

  "Every youth makes mistakes." Cursed be the day he'd first met her. "But no sane man can tolerate such behavior from his future bride."

  "You are not just any man, my lord." Hope tinged her panting words. "Through you, this curse can be lifted."

  "Through me?" He struggled to hide his shock at the revelation.

  She smiled, just for him. "Our union can redeem my curse."

  He'd been such a fool to believe a beautiful immortal could love him for himself. "Is that why you wanted to marry me? Some deal you made in the shadows, to get rid of your curse at my expense?"

  "Not entirely, my lord." She choked. Was it tears or water in her eyes? "The Great One sent me, so together we can protect the people who honor the old ways, to stop the religious persecutions, and spread tolerance in this great land of yours."

  A noble argument, but he heard no mention of her love for him. "To what purpose? So that people like you can take advantage of mortals and make their lives hell? Is that why you kept this curse of yours a secret?"

  "I was waiting for the right moment to tell you about it, my lord." Her voice wavered.

  "When? After we were wed?" The torchlight flickered, and he caught a shimmer below the surface of the pool carved into the rock.

  "Oh, how I hate this." Lady Melusine tensed and flinched, as if from a sharp pain.

  Artaud gasped at the sight. Her fishtail was splitting in two. Her flesh remolded itself into shapely human legs with smooth skin. He could now see the whole of her lovely nakedness.

  She released a long sigh. "It was never my intent to hurt you, my lord."

  "Good intentions are no excuse." The gods knew his ancestors heard plenty of those, but it did not help them.

  "Please, try to understand." Her golden skin looked so inviting as she stretched in the water, like a woman intent on seducing him with her perfect human body. How he wanted her, despite her treachery.

  He averted his gaze against her charms. She wasn't a woman but a changeling. Even her human appearance could be a trick. "Perhaps the Christians are right. Perhaps people like you are an abomination, a parasitic scourge afflicting mankind."

  As he glanced down, the expression on Lady Melusine's face made him regret his outburst, but he had spoken his mind and would stand by his harsh words. "Our wedding is off. I want you to leave Forez immediately. You are no longer welcome on my lands."

  * * *

  At Artaud's words, Melusine heaved herself out of the water onto the rocky ledge of the pool and stood up to face him. Shivering, dripping and naked, she straightened and looked up to stare into his lofty eyes.

  She advanced upon him. "‘Tis not in your power to banish me from these lands, Lord Artaud. I serve the Great One, and She rules over us all, immortal, mortal, noble or otherwise."

  "All the same." Artaud remained planted there. "No one dictates what I can or cannot do on my own lands." His chin rose and he looked away. "I want you gone... or else."

  "Or else what?" Melusine stopped inches from him. She was done pleading, or trying to fit into his world. "You will send your soldiers to kill me? You will join the Church in their persecutions?"

  He stared down at her, his face hard as stone. "My mother burned at the stake... I would never..."

  "Yet, you banish me without a second thought, after all I did for you."

  "If it is known that an ondine haunts the waterways of Forez, the pope will send all the armies of Christendom on a holy crusade." He looked away from her, his strong profile illuminated by the torches. "I refuse to endanger my people."

  "Then 'tis in our common interest to remain silent about this, so the pope never learns of it. I have been an ondine for centuries, and no mortal could ever prove I was anything other than a woman."

  His eyes narrowed upon her. "Yet, the monks recorded rumors of mermaid sightings."

  "I know they did. But my gift of invisibility has greatly improved since those early days." She walked away and deliberately picked a bath sheet from a rock. "Besides, you need me."

  His brow arched. "I do?"

  Melusine dabbed at her wet skin. She had one more argument to convince him to keep her close. "I told you I could uncover the enemies inside your walls, and today I did... in the bend of the River Lignon."

  "It matters not!" His gaze followed her as she dried her skin.

  She wrapped herself in the sheet with feigned indifference. "Someone reopened the ancient Roman mine, and is actively extracting there. Apparently, there is still gold to be found."

  "This old mine is too dangerous to exploit." Artaud paused, then his stubborn brow lifted slightly. "Who is it?"

  Melusine hid her smile. "Lord Damas."

  "Damas?" Artaud's face turned red. "He is my most trusted commander, my friend. He is wealthy and honorable. How dare you accuse him of such infamy?"

  Melusine's heart raced. Artaud trusted Damas more than she anticipated. "I saw his men at work today, his crest painted on their shields."

  "Enough lies." Artaud's loud baritone echoed off the hollowed cave walls. "Are you trying to undermine my sovereignty by making me doubt my best commander?"

  "I do not lie." Melusine resented the accusation. "I saw them as close as I see you now, and heard them talk about him reaping all the loot."

  "Enough! You deceived me. I can never trust you again." He sighed deeply and his stiff shoulders dropped. "On my honor, I will keep your secret, Lady Melusine. But I want you to disappear and never set foot on my lands again."

  How dare he banish her. "This sacred rock belongs to the Great One."

  "Still. I order you to leave." The steel in his voice chilled her.

  "And I refuse, my lord. Too much is at stake. We are destined for each other, you and me."

  "Destined?" His derisive snort held no mirth. "How easily the word comes to you."

  "Nonetheless. I shall remain in this abode until you change your mind. I'll limit my forays to the swamps where no one ever wanders. This hollow rock is invisible to mortal eyes. You needn't worry about it being discovered. You alone, because of your Fae blood, were able to find it."

  "My patienc
e is at an end, my lady." His deep brown eyes softened. "I wish it were otherwise, but I cannot harbor a shifty creature in my lands. ‘Tis my final decision. I want you gone. Farewell." Artaud turned on his heel and marched away, the tip of his spurs echoing with a metallic clang to the beat of his angry boot steps.

  Melusine collapsed, shivering, on the cold, wet stone. A great emptiness gnawed at her core. Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Just as she had found her beloved, she'd lost him again. Still, she would not leave. The Goddess wanted her to wed Artaud, and it was the only way to redeem her curse.

  His rejection of her very nature, however, hurt the most. She shuddered at the hatred in his eyes for what she looked like. A monster, not a woman. How could there ever be true love between them? She sobbed softly, overcome with dread. Dear Goddess, please help your unworthy daughter.

  * * *

  Artaud barely noticed the biting cold as he kicked the black stallion's flanks and galloped hard toward Montarcher. In the darkening twilight, the hooves dislodged clods of wet earth and threw them in his wake. His blood pounded at his throat. What had he just done?

  He'd ordered away the only woman he'd ever considered as a lifelong companion. A beautiful, intelligent, skilled woman, who seemed to care about him, about Forez. Through her association with the Great One, she could bring tolerance, prosperity and happiness to his people... or, because of her curse, relentless persecutions from the Church.

  How helpless she had looked when he banished her. Designing and building his castles without her at his side wouldn't be the same. He tightened his grip on the reins, strengthening his resolve. Immortals were powerful, not helpless.

  He had done the right thing to protect his people. So why did he feel so alone and miserable? As if someone had snuffed the flame that lit up his life.

  Around the curve in the road he glanced up the rocky hillock of Montarcher with its three concentric walls and the proud keep at the top, like a crown. The wondrous sight in faint moonlight brought him no joy this night. Without Lady Melusine, ‘twas only cold, heartless granite.

 

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