Traitor Blade: (Books 1-3)

by Richard Crawford

"I know." Tears pricked his eyes. He felt like a fool. Liam put an arm around his shoulders and led him to a quiet seat in the library.

  "The Duchess was going to see you safely home. I am sure Edgar can arrange for an escort if you want to leave sooner," said Liam.

  "I was to give evidence if the King…" The thought terrified him.

  "You have done enough. The King will make his decision without your evidence."

  Remy sniffed. To go home, it was all he had wanted for weeks. But there was something in Liam's words that troubled him. He was not sure he could live with this feeling of guilt. "Is it truly over?" he asked. As he said the words, he thought of Sieur Edouard and what Roslaire had said might happen to him.

  Liam hesitated. "Your part in it is done, Remy."

  "But is it over? What of the shadow creature, the dark knights? Are they still out there hurting people?"

  "Jaime thinks so," Liam admitted. "He intends to return to the hunt. I am going to help him."

  "How?"

  "The knowledge I found in the libraries of Tarsien. I should be able to track the creature if my gift is strong enough." Liam was silent for a moment. "I will find the strength, I owe as much to Brother Milo." It sounded like a vow.

  Remy wished things were so clear to him. He tried to imagine returning home. What would he say to his father? The thought of telling his story made him feel sick. There was little he could be proud of. He could make himself sound like a hero, but it would be a lie.

  "Can I help?" Shame prompted the words, and he made the offer before he could chicken out.

  "With the hunt for the shadow creature?" Brother Liam sounded amazed.

  Remy was nearly as amazed. "No one else has seen it." Or none who had lived. "Or heard it," he added, thinking of the creature's terrible voice.

  Brother Liam stood up and paced the room. "We could ask Jaime," he said. "If you are sure." He returned to face Remy. "It will be dangerous, and Jaime is not easy."

  Remy managed a smile. "I know." He had learned that lesson. He was not foolish enough to think Jaime would welcome his offer. But he did not think Jaime would refuse. He had seen the creature, and he knew Jaime's obsession would not allow him to turn away such knowledge.

  Chapter 72

  Prince Rupert squinted at a closely written report. After a moment, he pushed the indecipherable page aside. He sighed and rubbed a hand across tired eyes. Charles had left for Fourges that morning. Already he regretted allowing his son to travel to Ferdinand's court. A sense of danger pricked him. There was still no word from Etrives, no word from Michel, and silence from Edouard. All these things convinced Rupert trouble was coming.

  A knock at the door brought a moment's hope that news had arrived. But when he called permission it was only a servant wishing to light the lamps. Rupert glanced to the window; he had not realized that the afternoon was nearly gone. Charles would stop overnight somewhere on route. He would not reach Fourges until tomorrow. There was still time to send someone after him, to call him home. If he would come.

  Never before had he doubted that he commanded his eldest son's absolute obedience. He smiled ruefully at the thought. Now at the most dangerous time for their family, he could no longer be sure Charles would obey him. Another thing to place at Edouard's door, if he was so inclined. At that moment, it felt like all their troubles stemmed from Edouard's headstrong ambition. He knew that was not entirely fair; he could not blame Edouard for Ferdinand's dislike and distrust, the true heart of their dilemma. Still, there was plenty he could blame on Edouard.

  His first concern was for Charles. He did not doubt his eldest son's intelligence; Charles understood the court, he received news and kept abreast of the latest factions. Charles did not understand how quickly things could change. Up to now, he had been courted as Ferdinand's heir, protected from the worst of the court's treacherous games by that position and the distance of Chamfort. Once that changed, and Rupert was certain it would change, Charles would be vulnerable; the powerful men who had courted and supported him would turn against him in an instant.

  When Ferdinand had turned on him all those years ago, Rupert had experienced such betrayals from men he had considered friends. Men he had grown up with had turned their backs on him, more interested in the position and power his brother could bestow. It was why he valued his true friends, the men who had given up the court and accompanied him in his exile to Chamfort: the men who stayed with him through the years, Michel, Gerald and Antonio.

  These were the men he could trust to protect his family. Michel most of all. A true friend who had taken no role at Chamfort, asking for no personal glory. Michel had helped him through the horror of Adele's death. Michel had been a friend and second father to his children, particularly to Edouard. The twins had been babies, too young to understand the loss of their mother. Eloise had submerged her grief in caring for the babies. Charles had been old enough to understand, already a scholar and finding his way to the man he would become. Edouard had needed a friend and mentor, and Michel had filled the role superbly.

  Rupert knew he must act to protect Charles. He had made enough mistakes. No way would he risk losing another son. There was time to send word after Charles. He picked up a pen and began to write, choosing his words carefully. His family would not suffer another loss or rift.

  He sealed the letter with his personal signet and took it himself to the stables where a rider was waiting. The man would follow Charles's route to Fourges and check the posting inns where the party might stay overnight. He prayed the man would catch Charles before he reached Fourges.

  It was not yet quite dark. The stables were busy, grooms carrying hay and water, taking round feeds of oats as they settled the horses for the night. Antonio was there, the master of horse busy overseeing the care of a lame stallion. Having given the messenger instructions and watched him leave, Rupert hesitated. Charles was right about one thing at least. He should tell Antonio and Gerald, warn them that trouble was coming. It was unfair to keep them in the dark when their loyalty deserved better reward. If trouble was coming to Chamfort they had a right to know. He did not doubt their loyalty. It was his own shame, and Edouard's, he had wanted to hide.

  He had written to Michel, but he had been cautious, leaving much unsaid. He wondered if Michel would have learned the truth from Edouard by now. He shivered touched by a sudden premonition of what might happen if his friend, so loyal and true, became embroiled in the deadly coil of Edouard's treason.

  The sound of horses' hooves brought a moment's stillness to the yard. A large number of horses on the drive, traveling fast. All activity stilled as everyone turned to stare. Something was wrong. Antonio was out of the stables and at his side in a moment.

  "It can't be an attack, the guards would have sent warning," he said.

  Rupert knew he was right, but it did not ease his worry. He started towards the arch that led from the stable yard to the drive. Before he reached it, the first horses came clattering through. He knew the riders at once, his sons, Henri and Louis alongside Sieur Angelo de Loristen. Another glance told him Michel was not with them. The sense of impending disaster increased. His gaze searched the twins for signs of hurt or injury. He felt a stab of relief to find them unharmed.

  The boys looked exhausted, as if they had ridden nonstop for days. He reined in his concern and studied them more closely. Louis looked anxious and afraid. Henri always hid whatever was troubling him better, but he saw a shadow of the same anxiety in Henri's face. It was quickly hidden, but it was worrying. Usually, Henri was afraid of nothing.

  Louis jumped down from his horse and came to him at once. Henri stayed mounted alongside Sieur Angelo. Rupert sensed this was somehow planned. The twins had this knack of colluding without words. He was struck again by the way they acted as one even in this; the boys had always been different sides of the same coin.

  Antonio had taken charge of the returning knights, fifty or so from what Rupert could see, all looked tired and grim, the
ir horses sweat stained and hard ridden. It was a relief to see them well and safely returned. But he did not have time for that now. He slipped an arm around Louis's shoulders.

  "You look as if you could do with food and a bed." He could not keep a hint of anger from his voice and saw Angelo wince. "Sieur Angelo, do you have the command?" He did not ask about Michel, not yet.

  Angelo nodded.

  "You will report to my study in half an hour," he said, aware of the watching grooms, the need to maintain calm. He turned towards the chateau. Henri's voice halted him.

  "Father, wait!"

  He turned back. "Henri, come with me now." His voice was soft but cold. There was no doubt in his mind that they brought bad news. It could not happen like this. Henri was old enough to understand that.

  For a moment, he thought his son would ignore him. Then Sieur Angelo laid a hand on Henri's arm. They shared a glance. Henri dismounted, but he stayed by his horse.

  "Sieur Angelo, please join us." There was command in Henri's voice; it was no longer a boy's voice. Shocked to silence, Rupert remained quiet. Sieur Angelo had not moved. The young man looked torn, exhausted. Rupert met his gaze and nodded. He watched as the young knight dismounted.

  Henri came to him, his expression a mix of apology and challenge. Louis moved to his brother's side. Something about the way they stood together stirred emotion in Rupert. When Sieur Angelo joined them, Rupert turned to lead the way into the chateau. It was hard to keep silent, the fear that filled him growing towards terror. The servants had gathered, alerted by some sixth sense. There were cries of greeting. He laid a hand on Henri's shoulder, keeping him silent.

  He led them to his study where Elle was waiting, as if she had known instinctively what trouble their return would bring. He watched his daughter. She was white-faced; tears glimmered in her eyes as she embraced her brothers, but the tears did not fall. He felt a moment's pride.

  Henri moved away from Elle. He resisted her attempt to hold him. "You must send for Charles," he said. Again the new edge of command to his voice. He and Louis had moved to stand at Sieur Angelo's side. There was something almost protective in their stance.

  Rupert studied them. Fear was cold in his belly as he asked, "What has happened? Is it Edouard?"

  Angelo shook his head.

  "Charles must hear this," said Henri. When he started to speak again, Rupert raised a hand, commanding silence.

  "Charles left for Fourges earlier. Sieur Angelo, give me your report."

  The young man swallowed. "Sieur Michel is dead."

  The words fell softly in the silence. He could hear his heart beating, laboring under a half expected grief. He looked to Eloise. Tears slid down his daughter's face. "Edouard?" he managed to ask.

  "Edouard survived." The bleak words offered no comfort. "I don't know how to tell you," said Sieur Angelo. He sounded young and helpless.

  "Start at the beginning."

  "St Andre betrayed Edouard at Ralmadre." Angelo hesitated.

  "I know the story of St Andre's treason, and how Edouard was implicated," said Rupert. "What happened at Ralmadre? Tell me everything."

  Angelo shrugged, a small helpless gesture. "Soon after he came to Etrives, Edouard told me something of what he faced, but he would not let me help. He stayed away from Michel and the Chamfort knights so they would not be implicated. We saw little of him until the battle at Ralmadre." It was almost a plea for forgiveness. "The battle went badly for Etrives. No one was sent to relieve them. When Edouard saw this, he led his knights to assist the Duke. We," Angelo hesitated. "The Chamfort knights followed, and we saved the remnants of the Etrives force. The Duke survived but only barely. After the battle, a rumor started that Edouard had ignored an order to support Etrives sooner. That their terrible losses were his fault." Angelo shook his head. "It was a lie."

  Rupert nodded once to reassure the young knight. He did not doubt his son in this. Edouard was not a coward, and he would bet his life it was not in his son's nature to betray fellow knights.

  Angelo took a breath. "The Duke de Etrives and one of his sons survived. Duke Lorenzo knew Edouard saved Etrives. He made a public show of support for Edouard. But St Andre's rumors spread fast, and Edouard's position was dangerous. He would not let me help; he ordered me off. I should not have listened." He shrugged. "When the army returned to Etrives I went to Sieur Michel and told him what I knew. He ordered me to bring Henri and Louis to Chamfort. He said he would find Edouard and come after us. We set out for Chamfort, but I turned back."

  "It was us," said Henri. "We made Sieur Angelo turn back."

  Rupert raised a hand to silence him and looked to Angelo. "Continue."

  "I should never have left him." Angelo shook his head. "We went back, but arrived too late. Somehow, a confrontation had developed between Edouard and St Andre. I don't know how it started. St Andre had men with him; Michel must have been watching Edouard. He went to help. In the fight, Michel was cut down by St Andre. Edouard killed St Andre, but one of St Andre's men escaped to carry the tale. We came upon Edouard and Michel when it was all over, too late to help."

  "Sieur Michel sent Edouard away. He told us to leave so no one would know we were there," said Henri. "He was alone…"

  "Where is Edouard?" Rupert asked. He felt numb. Michel was dead. Had died defending his son. An act of friendship and loyalty he could never repay. Michel had died alone. It was almost impossible to hear such news and think of anything else. But he must concentrate on what had to be done.

  "Michel told Edouard to go to Allesarion," Angelo answered. "He did not want to leave, but Michel said it would be best for Chamfort."

  "When did this happen?"

  "Six days ago," said Angelo.

  "The news will have reached Fourges days ago." Rupert did the calculations and realized how little time they had. He rang for a servant. "Send for Sieur Gerald and Sieur Antonio."

  "What will happen now," Henri asked. Much of the posture of assurance was gone, as if he had set himself to a task and could now be his age again.

  Rupert did not want to answer, but there was no way to protect them from what was coming. "The King will send his men to Chamfort, looking for Edouard."

  It did not sound so bad put like that, but he knew what it could mean for Chamfort.

  "Michel sent Edouard away. They won't find him here," said Henri. "That's a good thing."

  "It is," he said. "But the King will not think so. He will be angry, and," he looked to Sieur Angelo. "Charles has gone to Fourges. I've sent a man to call him back, if he finds him in time."

  "The King cannot blame Charles for something Edouard did. That would not be fair." Henri sounded very certain. Rupert did not have the heart to correct him. He went to his sons. He put an arm around each of their shoulders. "Listen to me, this is important." He looked to his daughter, proud of the way she stood ready to listen and do as he asked. "Eloise, I want you and the boys to leave Chamfort. You will go to Etrives, Sieur Angelo and his men will take you." He raised a hand against any protest. It was a gamble. He must trust to Etrives, and hope Ferdinand would not learn that he had sent his children away, but he had few choices left. He would not risk having his family here when the King's men came to Chamfort. He saw Eloise would protest at leaving him and spoke quickly. "No one need know the boys returned. I will say you have gone to visit them. I want you safe."

  She nodded once.

  "Go and prepare," he said. "You all leave tonight."

  When they were gone, he turned to Angelo. "Is there anything else I should know?"

  "The rumors spread by the Marechal St Andre gained credence. He made it seem the defeat was Edouard's fault. Duke Lorenzo's support was not witnessed by many and few would go against St Andre. The Duke could do nothing more. He has his own problems." Angelo paused. "Edouard fought bravely. I was there as were the other Chamfort knights. He risked everything to save Etrives from St Andre's treachery. Duke Lorenzo knows the truth. I am sure Eloise and the boys
will be safe at Etrives."

  He hesitated again, then spoke reluctantly. "St Andre is dead at Edouard's hand, and there is a witness. The rumor of Edouard's treachery will seem more credible. It will seem that Edouard killed St Andre to cover his guilt."

  Rupert could hear the wind rising, stirring the trees, and raising a storm of fallen leaves. "Edouard would have to go to Fourges to get passage to Allesarion." He counted the days of in his head. "Fourges will be a trap. If Edouard failed to escape, he might be in Ferdinand's hands already." The thought filled him with an icy fear. Whatever his son had done he did not want him to suffer Ferdinand's vengeance; the King's anger at Chamfort had grown mighty through the years; he had done nothing to change that, and now it seemed likely his son would suffer the consequences.

  "Edouard is resourceful," said Angelo. "And determined, nothing will stop him from carrying out Michel's last wishes. He will make it to Allesarion. But what will happen when he does? Will Queen Micia offer him shelter?"

  "Perhaps." Rupert shook his head. If Micia offered friendship, it would be for her own purpose. He thought of Edouard caught between the two monarchs, caught up in a game of court treachery. It was a battle for which his son was ill-suited. But it was a choice Michel had made, and he knew Edouard better than anyone.

  Chapter 73

  After a day and night of traveling, Charles arrived in Fourges at midday. A sense of urgency had kept him on the road. He had stopped at an inn a few leagues from the city to wash and change so he and his retinue would make a suitably impressive entrance into the city.

  He had planned this entry carefully. The size of his retinue was large without being threatening; all his men were wearing the blue and silver Chamfort livery. He had dressed with a certain reserved splendor. The sort of show that made Edouard smirk and ask him if he was wearing enough rings. But such show served a purpose. He would not skulk into the city. It would be pointless anyway. Ferdinand and every important member of the court had spies at each of the city's gates. No one arrived in Fourges unnoticed, or left unmarked. He had sent word of his arrival. As a dutiful nephew should, he would not act as if anything had changed.