This meeting would need complete privacy. He turned his horse, urging it between the trees. He heard the stallion's hooves pounding up the incline. Edouard spurred the black to a canter. There was no path, but there was little undergrowth and the horse swung easily between the trees. Behind him, Angelo reached the edge of the wood and slowed. Edouard heard him curse and then follow.
Concentrating, Edouard kept going. The black gelding was obedient, keeping a good pace and bending between the trees without command. This allowed Edouard to twist and duck avoiding the low hanging branches. It would not be so easy for Angelo, annoyed, and riding a high tempered, battle-trained stallion. The crashing of their progress told its own tale. Edouard did not make it too hard, allowing Angelo to keep him in sight but not to approach close enough to stop him.
Eventually he reached a small glade and reined to a halt, reaching to pat the black's neck. Moments later Angelo and his flame colored stallion burst into the clearing. Curbing the horse to a rearing halt, Angelo cursed.
"Saint's blood! What are you playing at?" He was covered in twigs and leaves. Irritably he tugged them from his hair. "You asked for this damn meeting, and then you play hide and seek."
Edouard decided it would not be wise to laugh. He pulled a face because, despite everything it was hard not to. "We need to speak, about…"
"Bloody right we do."
"About Gaspard de Nortial." Edouard said, trying to keep calm.
"Bugger Gaspard de Nortial." Angelo snarled. "I am not here to waste breath on that bloated maggot."
"All right. I'm here to talk about him, but you go first." He waited a moment. "I feel there is something you want to say?"
"Not much. It's more of a warning." Angelo glared, and his mouth twisted in a sneer of disgust. "What happened in Fourges...?"
"Is that a question?"
"No."
"Of course, why worry what actually happened." Belatedly, Edouard realized calm was beyond him and knew his nerves might not be up to this.
"What happened! That's clear enough."
"All right." Edouard swung down from the black and, throwing the reins over a branch, left it to graze. He walked towards Angelo. "What do you want from me?"
Angelo stared down at him. "Nothing. I am here to tell you that I don't know what has happened to you, and I don't care. But hurt your father or anyone else at Chamfort, again and…"
"I never planned to hurt anyone." He blurted the words before he thought.
Angelo glared at him. "You can't expect me to believe what you did was truly an accident?"
Edouard shrugged, aware he was walking a fine line, but unable to let this pass. "I don't expect you to understand. The truth is I couldn't find a way to avoid what happened. You surely don't think I wanted it to end like that?"
Angelo glared back at him and said nothing. Edouard took a moment more, fighting the urge to explain. "I had my reasons for riding against my father. All I can say is that things did not go as I had planned."
"You call that an explanation?" Angelo waited for a moment before continuing. "Well, to me it does not sound like an explanation, an apology, or even an excuse."
"It's my business," Edouard said carefully.
"As you have said. But if anything like that happens again I will make it my business, and I'm not the only one." It was a real threat, and Angelo made sure he knew it. He hesitated before continuing in a softer tone. "A family quarrel is one thing, Edouard, but what happened in Fourges, no one understands that."
Edouard had no answer. "Very well, you've made your point. Will you listen to me now?"
"You want me to stay away from your friend, de Nortial."
"Yes. And in case there is some misunderstanding, he is not exactly my friend." He saw the look on Angelo's face. "Please, Angel, listen. I don't control him, no one does. If you pursue this I can't answer for what will happen."
"Like with your father?"
He supposed he deserved no better. But Angelo was missing the point. "Don't be pigheaded about this; de Nortial is not worth it. Michel needs you. The twins need you. Chamfort needs you."
"And they don't need you. What gives you the right to abandon them?"
He was not expecting such a challenge and it caught him off guard. He could not answer.
Angelo would not leave it. "Well?"
"I don't have a choice." He turned away. This was harder than he had imagined, and he began to see it was a great deal more dangerous. He knew Angelo was watching him.
Across the glade, the black munched steadily, tugging the lush grass, his harness jingling. Edouard started towards the horse. Angelo's stallion leaped forward blocking his way. Staring down Angelo said, "Holy mother, what is the matter with you?"
Edouard stared at him at a loss.
"If there is something wrong just tell me. Saints, Edouard, it can't be worse than this."
"I've done something stupid."
"Well it wouldn't be the first time. Tell me."
"No, it's not something you can help with. No one can help, that's why..." He stopped.
"That's why you will have nothing to do with Chamfort?" Angelo swung down from the saddle. He dropped the chestnut's reins and stepped forward. He caught Edouard by the shoulders, a bruising grip. "Tell me."
Edouard shook his head, flinching as Angelo's grip tightened and he was shoved backward. He stumbled over tree roots and gasped as he was thumped hard into a tree. Angelo's grip on his arms kept him from falling. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing hard.
"Tell me," Angelo said very quiet, dangerously so.
"I can't."
"Tell me or I will go to St Andre, to de Nortial. I swear I will tear Etrives apart until I find the truth."
"Listen to me, damn you." He raised his arms, knocking Angelo's aside. Free, he and moved quickly towards the center of the glade. He stood waiting, hands curled to fists. "I've made a mess of things. All I can do is keep my family out of it."
"What sort of mess?"
"A bad one." His temper was rising. But it was not Angelo's fault, and he had to remember that, even the tiff with de Nortial wasn't really Angelo's fault. He let his arms fall to his sides. "It's all my fault, de Nortial, my father, everything. Don't push this, Angelo. Go back and help Michel. Please. Watch out for the twins, and try to keep Henri out of trouble. He'll listen to you." He took a breath. "I've made that worse too, but I honestly don't think Lorenzo de Etrives means the boys, or Chamfort, any harm. And, if you want to help me." He took a breath. "Please stay away from Gaspard de Nortial, and St Andre."
"And what about you?"
"Stay away from me too."
"If you won't trust me will you at least speak to Michel?"
"No." He tried to sound calm and confident. "It doesn't matter what he thinks." He saw Angelo's face. "I mean it, Angelo. The only good thing about the scene with Jasper was how angry it made Michel. He doesn't want to know me at the moment, and that's how it must stay."
"And if I refuse?"
It was what he most dreaded. Holding Angelo's gaze he said, "You will put my family at risk. I won't allow you to do that."
"Is that meant to be a threat?" Shaking his head, Angelo's lips curled in a strange half smile. "You are an idiot. Have I told you that?" Still with that dangerous smile, he came forward. Edouard retreated a step. But Angelo made no move against him. Instead, he said softly. "You know there would be no risk, except you have just gambled everything to warn me about de Nortial."
"I didn't mean to say so much." He shrugged. "But it's hard enough having other people think the worst. That you would believe it..."
Angelo's face lost all expression. He sighed. "Saints, but that's the most reassuring thing you've said today. You've played this game too well. Your father..."
"No one can know." He saw Angelo's face. "Angel, please, if you can guess what this has cost me, you will know I can't see it all go for nothing. Help me protect them."
"Of course. But you can
't expect me to walk away and forget this?" Angelo smiled, but without the usual hint of malice. "Whatever the problem two heads are better than one."
"No." It came out on a desperate, ragged breath. He fell silent. Angelo was looking at him strangely.
"Holy mother, what have you done?"
"Leave it."
"No. After this, how the fuck can I?"
"I've told you how you can help. Can't you just do what I ask?"
"That's not how it works, Edouard." Angelo was no longer smiling. "I'm sorry I doubted you, but that's in the past now. I'll keep your secret, but I won't walk away."
"Even if that's what I want."
"Especially if that's what you want, I know what an idiot you can be."
It was worse than fighting. Edouard shook his head, surrendering. He would not distract Angelo now, and had had to keep control of things. "It's St Andre."
"What about him?"
"He's making some sort of power play, and I'm caught up in it." Edouard hesitated, trying to choose the right words. "I don't know what he is up to or who else is involved yet, but I am trying to find out." It sounded reasonable, he thought. "I can't do anything until I am certain I can bring him down. I'll need help then." It was almost convincing. He saw Angelo's face and braced himself for the questions.
None came, at last Angelo said, "What happened with your father? I have to ask."
"There was a plot. I don't know who was behind it. I heard by chance and ..."
"Sword's blood, Edouard. Why didn't you go to him?"
"I thought," he shrugged. "I don't know… it seemed the best thing to do."
"So you rode against your father with an unrebated lance. You do know that was an insane risk to take?" Angelo frowned, clearly not expecting an answer. "But after the accident the King made you run your father's courses, against Sieur Sylvain?" Again, he did not wait for an answer. "Another un-rebated lance. My god, it was Sylvain you suspected all along. He could have killed you. And you kept silent. Are you insane?"
"Maybe. I don't know anymore."
"I'm not joking, damn it."
"Nor am I." The headache was back. It felt as though someone had hit him in the head again. At the moment even riding back to Etrives felt beyond him. He did not have the strength to fight with Angelo. "Please, none of that matters now."
"I don't know how you work that out?"
"The plot failed."
"And what's to stop them trying again? Have you warned him?"
"No. Well not directly." He shrugged. "But two accidents in one day, he's not stupid. And, hopefully, he won't take too much convincing that it wasn't my doing." It was a weak effort and Angelo did not smile.
"Of course he didn't believe you truly meant him harm. But everyone else does. We thought he had gone soft."
"I'm sorry."
"It's done now." For a moment, Angelo looked uncomfortable.
They stood staring at each other. Edouard did not know what to say, Angelo was being surprisingly reasonable. At last, he smiled. "You know they have to think we argued?"
"Yes, and the best way to convince them is to show we came to blows?" Angelo gave a relieved laugh. "But you don't look up to much."
"True enough. We should work out who has to come off worst." He stood waiting, relieved, exhausted. Relieved. He was not alone anymore.
"A bruise apiece should be enough. Though you have plenty already." Angelo planted his feet. "Hit me."
"No, you first."
"For Christ's sake," Angelo said and swung a roundhouse punch. Edouard fell down. He heard Angelo exclaim and rolled on to his back, laughing.
"Kidding, you always did punch like a girl." It was not true. The punch had split his lip, rattled his teeth and made his headache a hundred times worse. He rubbed his jaw and stood up. "My turn."
Angelo eyed him. "Perhaps I'll just head butt the tree."
"Chicken." Before he could answer, Edouard jabbed a punch close to his left eye. "Black eye, that should do it." He retreated a step just in case. They stared at each other. "You go first."
"No. They'll be waiting. If they don't see you ride away, someone will want to come and check that I haven't killed you."
"Don't be daft."
"Well, anyway it's better if it looks as though you had the best of it. You're supposed to be setting me right aren't you?"
"True. Angel..." He stopped, not sure how to apologize.
"Don't call me that." Angelo turned, tugging the black's reins loose he led the horse forward. "Here." He laced his fingers offering a leg up.
Mounted, Edouard looked down rubbing his jaw. "Don't do anything foolish."
"Sword's blood, you're telling me?"
He supposed Angelo had a point. It hurt to smile. No suitable answer came to mind so he touched his spurs to the black's sides.
Angelo's voice followed him. "You haven't told me all of it, have you?"
He had, for a moment, forgotten. The reminder made him shiver, but he did not stop, or look back. Beyond the trees, the Chamfort knights were waiting. They looked to him anxiously. He glared towards them and then turned the black towards camp.
Chapter 58
Edouard did not see Angelo again before the army moved into the field. Once they were moving, he caught glimpses of him among the Chamfort knights and as the army marched through the Ettivaran borderlands, he did not hear of any trouble between Angelo and Gaspard. De Nortial was away from the main army for much of the time, busy leading the raiding parties that were taking and subduing Erimont, the first large town inside the Ettivaran border. Having taken the town, he would remain there to keep the area quiet and ensure the army's supply lines.
It took the army a week to reach Ralmadre, and when they arrived it was obvious that William of Ettivar had forewarning of St Andre's plan. Preparations for a siege were in place. It was also clear that William was not inclined to give up Ralmadre, and he that hoped to avoid a long siege. William had put an army in the field. An army that outmatched the one St Andre commanded and the Ettivarans had all the advantages of territory having chosen their ground. William held to that advantage. He would not be drawn out. St Andre gave orders to make camp and the preparations for battle began.
Two days later, on a bright clear morning, St Andre moved his men into position. William's army was waiting. Edouard sat his horse looking across to Ettivaran battle lines and knew that they were outnumbered with a disadvantage of position; this would not be an easy day.
He had been given command of a wing on the left side of the center. His first command, deserved perhaps, but coming from St Andre it was a bitter and tainted honor. For the first time, his personal standard was raised for men to follow. He watched it unfurl, the familiar blue and silver of Chamfort with the device of the second son. As they rode into position, he wondered idly if his father would object and was comforted remembering what Angel had said. He was glad to think that perhaps his father had not given up on him, not yet.
At least today, the enemy was easy to face; he would cause his father no shame in this battle. Edouard drew rein and put the thought aside. He turned to scan the knights and men gathered beneath his banner. He was pleased by what he saw. They stood ready, a group of knights supported by experienced men at arms. He should thank St Andre for that at least. This was a day when experience would count.
Across the narrow valley, the army of Ettivar ranged along the hilltop, banners unfurling in the watery morning sunlight. Edouard stared and then cursed as he saw the King's personal standard among them and, more importantly, where it was positioned. St Andre had expected William to take the field, but the King and his powerful household knights were stationed to the right, facing the Duke de Etrives, not in the center where he was expected and would have faced St Andre and the strongest of the Valderon force.
Edouard swung his stallion round, looking to the hillside where St Andre was stationed. As he did so, a peal of trumpets sounded the advance. It was impossible that St Andre ha
d not seen how the Ettivaran line was drawn up, but no flurry of movement signaled new orders. Hastily Edouard swung his stallion to face the enemy. He drew his sword. A flash of blue and silver caught his eye and he saw the Chamfort standard, his father's standard, raised to his right. The sight held him for a moment. To see it touched something deep within him. He was not alone. Then he forgot everything as the line moved forward. The charge began, sweeping across the low valley towards the waiting enemy.
Sword in hand, Edouard led his men up the slope. He held his stallion in check until the last moment. Then he yelled a command. His knights crashed against the Ettivaran center and it began. The noise was deafening. The roar of voices, the clash of metal, and the dull thudding blows already rending flesh and bone. Edouard slashed and cut, spurring his stallion. Cutting and trampling his way through the Ettivaran ranks.
In the frenzy of battle, thought was near impossible, even breathing was an effort. Instinct and training ruled. Edouard dispatched a knight on a gray stallion and focused on the next enemy. His knights surged behind him. To his left one of them fell. Edouard recognized the knight, a man his own age, little more than a boy. He tried to turn back, but a vicious blow rocked him in the saddle. The fight pushed him further away from the fallen man.
When at last he could look back, enemy foot soldiers swarmed around the fallen knight, a mace smashed down. Too far away, Edouard watched as an enemy soldier straddled the knight's body and, as he was pinned helpless, drove a dagger into the slit of his visor and then between the vulnerable joints of his armor. Knowing it was too late to help the boy, still Edouard spurred his stallion. The horse leaped forward but in a moment, his path was blocked by an Ettivaran knight.
Time passed strangely on a battlefield. Very soon muscles burned with effort, each moment seemed unending. Glancing up, he saw by the sun's position that the morning was nearly done. Edouard fought, exchanging opponents like partners in a terrible and deadly dance. Injured men and animals lay moaning. Men screamed and the injured cried for help.
As midday passed, the valley was littered with bodies, men and horses sprawled and piled as if struck down in an enchanted sleep. For all the death and injury, Edouard knew little had been gained.
Traitor Blade: (Books 1-3) Page 58
