It took him two nights to complete the preparations. On the second night, he returned to the room with the mirrors and, soon after the change of guard, slipped out into the empty corridor. He started his explorations in the rooms surrounding his courtyard. Moving quietly he followed each corridor, discovering alternative routes, deserted stairs and hallways. Gradually he explored further afield, into areas where, even late at night, there were people about. He saw mostly slaves cleaning, polishing, replenishing the palace's glittering luxury. All were busy with their work and trained to keep their eyes down.
He was careful to avoid the main corridors, thick with guards, and a few times he had to duck aside when he saw the overseers or palace officials approaching. It was a nice irony that because Micia had kept him a virtual prisoner, few in Allesarion who would recognize him.
It took him another night to find his way down to the kitchens. No one noticed him in the scrum of late night activity. The courtyard outside the kitchens was busy, and a constant flow of deliveries arrived, everything from flowers to ice, bread and meat. Edouard knew well enough that a palace this size did not rest at night. Servants or slaves, it was no different, there was too much work to be done when their masters were at rest.
Last of all he found the stables and discovered the beautiful fine-limbed Sarion horses. He longed to explore and study the horses. But he had to be careful. The horses were well looked after, and there were grooms present at all hours.
During the day, he ran and trained as usual, working harder than ever. Ti and Markus still served him and had, as far as he knew, received no censure following Shamet's visit, though Julius was present more often and sharper with the younger men.
Lord Shamet had not, as promised or perhaps threatened, returned to continue their discussion. Edouard was relieved. Instead, Shamet sent him books. The first was an ancient manual on the art of war. Never inclined to willingly spend time reading, Edouard glanced at it ready to be unimpressed. He found a dissertation on tactics and logistics as fresh and current as a discussion with St Andre and his senior staff. With time on his hands, he read on. The book piqued his interest. The second book was a history and study of the Sarion horses. After his visit to the stables, Edouard was captivated and intrigued to read about the feats of endurance completed by these high blooded desert horses.
His plan to visit the city gained momentum. The earliest he could attempt would be late evening. If that added risk, he was past the point of caring and certain he could not bear another day of passive captivity. He thought, idly, about heading to the docks, escaping Allesarion completely. But without money or assistance, it would be a fool's errand and likely end in embarrassing failure. He did not fancy being forcibly returned and berated by Shamet.
His explorations had convinced him he could leave and return undiscovered. The idea of besting Micia, Shamet and the guards amused him. Once set in his head, it could not be shaken, though he knew there was risk; it took some of the sting out of his silk and satin trussed confinement.
He had at times during his captivity, tried to think what Charles might do or say in a given situation. It took less than a moment's consideration to know Charles would not approve of this plan, and less than a heartbeat more for Edouard to decide to ignore this unspoken caution.
He waited two more days, careful to be polite to his guards, undemanding, and follow a predictable routine. He sent a note to thank Lord Shamet for the books and received in return another small, leather bound volume. He read it so he would be prepared in case Shamet visited, determined to show himself the model prisoner-guest. It was a book on philosophy written for princes. The text was a subtle discourse on the art of court politics and the power of words. Edouard was aware it was intended as a lesson. He was vaguely offended, but was more inclined to be amused by the idea Shamet thought he could turn him a two-faced, oily-mouthed courtier.
It increased his determination to achieve his planned expedition to the city a hundredfold.
Chapter 85
Remy pulled his cloak close as rain pattered softly on the leaves above his head. The track they followed was steep and slippery after a week of rain, and his tired horse balked at the climb. Small streams tumbled down the hillside carrying flotillas of leaves and twigs. Remy urged the horse on. He wondered why he always ended up in the woods in the worst weather. It felt as if he had not been dry for weeks. Brother Liam did not seem to notice, wrapped up in his search for the shadow creature, and Jaime was impervious to all weathers.
Remy sniffed, and consoled himself with the knowledge that he would have a dry bed tonight. Less comforting was the idea of returning to Debrauche.
An hour later, they emerged from the trees above the manor of Debrauche. The rain had stopped and the valley seemed strangely peaceful. In his memories it was a place of flames and death, a place where he had again succumbed to fear.
The fear remained. It had been with him since that first afternoon at Chamfort. He had watched the shadow creature kill the mayor. He had hidden and done nothing. Just as Sieur Edouard had done nothing. Remy could not believe it was fear that prevented Edouard de Chamfort taking action. That was why he had believed Sieur Edouard a part of the plot to murder the mayor. Now he knew more of the creature and he was no longer sure.
The shadow knights had not returned to Debrauche. There had been no more attacks in the domain. When Liam scried each night, he found no sign of the shadow creature. It seemed the valley was safe. The Compact had saved the Count and his village. Remy felt a mixture of relief and guilt, though he could not claim to have played a hero's part.
Jaime and Brother Liam were ahead of him, riding side by side, talking softly. After weeks searching for the shadow creature, they had come to Debrauche to meet up with Mathieu and Bruno. Now things had settled, Matt, Bruno and most of the Compact's men would join them in the search for the shadow knights.
Remy took a moment longer to gaze over the valley. He was not sure whether he was glad to be back or not. As he rode down the hill, he could see the village had been rebuilt. There was little sign of the carnage that had occurred here, though the barricades remained. Remy felt a surge of relief and pride: the Compact had done as they promised. They had stayed and kept Debrauche safe.
Count Hugo was waiting for them at the manor, the Countess and their children at his side. His brother Quinn stood with him, with Bruno and Mathieu close by. It was almost like a homecoming. Remy felt a burst of pleasure to see the Count's family reunited. It was a sight that convinced him Debrauche was safe and could remain so.
Inside the manor felt like a home again. The Countess had returned everything to good order and there was food and drink laid ready. Remy was comforted and found the welcome easing away the worst of his memories. He heard the Count speak of the preparations he and Quinn had made, how well the villagers' training was coming on, and hearing the confidence in his voice, Remy started to believe the nightmare was over for Debrauche.
Later he went to find Tom. Things had been awkward between them when he left, but he wanted to know Tom and his sisters were all right. They had lost their parents and home in the fighting and had been left alone in the world to make their way.
Tom's family home had been at the north end of the village below the woods. Remy was not sure if he lived in the same place. He could have asked directions, but it was good to walk among the new houses and see children playing while their mothers hung laundry or tended gardens. No one seemed afraid. It was a different place to the village he remembered.
He had nearly reached the end of the village before he saw Tom. It took him a moment to recognize his friend. Tom had grown, now he was the height of his father though not so broad. He was chopping wood, swinging the axe with easy confidence. Engrossed in the task, he did not see Remy approach. When he stopped to stack the wood, Remy called out to him.
"Lost any piglets lately?"
Tom turned, after a moment he grinned. "Remy." He dropped the wood and came towa
rds him. "Tis good to see you safe."
"And you," said Remy, relieved to find himself welcomed, the uneasiness between them gone.
Tom caught him in a hug. "Truly, I've thought about you often, and wondered where you were, how you were."
"And I you." Remy looked round. "The village is rebuilt. Is this your cottage?"
"Aye, built most of it meself," said Tom, proudly. "Things have changed a fair bit since you left. Come say hello."
The door was open. Remy followed Tom into the small cottage. Inside there was a single room, much like Tom's father's cottage, with a table and chairs and a curtained off space for sleeping. There were wildflowers on the table, and the room was immaculate. A girl, about Tom's age, was standing at the table slicing a loaf of fresh bread. Remy did not recognize her as one of Tom's sisters.
Tom caught the girl by the hand and pulled her forward. "Remy, this is Callie. My wife."
"Your wife!" Remy almost choked. He did not know what to say. They were nearly the same age. How could Tom have a wife? "Congratulations," he said and for want of something to say, slapped Tom on the back.
"You'll stay and have some tea with us?" Callie asked with a smile.
"Yes, thank you." He remembered the same offer from Tom's father on his first day in the village. Before the shadow knights came. So much had changed. He looked to Tom. "Where are your sisters?"
"They live with our aunt and uncle. Though we'd happily have them with us. But we've only been wed a few weeks." He put an arm round the girl's waist.
Remy did not know where to look. He turned to survey the room. "You've done a good job."
"It ain't much yet, but we've all we need," said Tom.
Remy remembered the afternoon of the shadow knights' attack. Tom's parents lying in the mud. The village burning. For a moment he couldn't speak. He felt a touch on his arm.
"Why don't you and Tom finish stacking the wood while I make tea?" said Callie.
When they finished the woodpile, Tom led him round the house to the pigpens. In one there was a huge boar. "Do you remember him?" Tom asked.
"Ferdi?"
"Aye," said Tom laughing. "He's lord of the manor now."
###
Three days later the Compact's men prepared to leave Debrauche. Liam had scried every day, but had found no sign of the shadow creature, and Jaime's limited patience was exhausted. There had been reports from several of the Compact's informants, telling of places where bands of knights had been seen. One of these bands might be the shadow knights. It was their best lead. After discussion it was decided, they would go to each location and Liam would scry for signs of the shadow creature. Once the decision had been made, Jaime insisted they must leave at once.
Remy was sad to leave. After dreading the return to the village, he had enjoyed his time there. The past no longer haunted him. His friendship with Tom returned to the easy camaraderie they had first shared. Callie was a lovely girl and made him welcome in their home.
Now the time had come, Remy did not want to return to the fear of the hunt and damp nights in the woods. Brother Liam had found no trace of the shadow creature, but Remy was certain that eventually he would. Jaime and Liam would not stop until they found a way to take their revenge.
Remy went to say goodbye to Tom and Callie. As he walked through the village where everything seemed so normal and relaxed, he remembered how Jaime had pushed for the Compact to take a stand in Debrauche. Mathieu had been worried. Remy had shared his concern that Debrauche might pay too high a price. Jaime had been right. The Compact had given the villagers the heart to fight. Together they had saved the village. Without Jaime, things might have turned out differently. Matt had cared, but Jaime had been prepared to fight. He deserved some credit, even if his motives were not always straightforward.
The villagers gathered to see them off, with the Count and Countess and Quinn. The Count spoke for them. He looked to Mathieu and the Compact's men.
"What you have done here will not be forgotten. You stood with us when it seemed all was lost. Without you..." For a moment he faltered. The Countess took his hand and the Count turned to smile at her. He looked to Jaime and Bruno, smiled at Remy. "You saved my family, and that is a debt I can never repay." He looked to Matt. "You and your men always have a place here, if you want to return." The villagers cheered in approval.
Remy knew that some of the Compact's men were staying. One man had married a woman widowed in the shadow knights' first raid. Others were courting village girls. After what they had been through they did not want to leave, and Remy understood. Part of him wanted to stay, to see the village safe. He knew that Mathieu was finding it hard to leave. To believe their work here was done.
The Compact's leader stepped forward. Remy watched Mathieu, envying his quiet confidence. He was a man you knew you could trust. The villagers fell silent. Matt smiled at the Count and Quinn, and kissed the Countess's hand. "We were glad to help, but it was your bravery that counted," he looked to the villagers. "You were the ones who saved Debrauche. Never forget that. You had the courage to stand against the shadow and it made a difference. The shadow knights have not returned. They have plagued no other villages in this domain. I do not forget what it cost, but you turned the tide."
Remy heard these words and felt a terrible shame. The villagers of Debrauche had risked so much. He had risked nothing. Jaime had accused him of letting others suffer for his mistakes. It was true. Thinking of Simon and Father Peter, the lives lost at Debrauche; he knew that his need to make things right was as great as Jaime's. If he did not the guilt and shame would follow him all his life.
The thought stayed with him as he rode through the valley with the Compact's men. They rode in silence. It was clear that for the men of the Compact who had been here a while it was hard to leave. It was not just that they were quiet; he saw the look on their faces, the way the men glanced back to the village time after time. Some of them had made a home here. These men were leaving to honor a pledge for which they had already risked their lives.
He was startled from his thoughts as Mathieu's horse moved alongside him.
"Remy, we have not had time to talk. Are you well?"
He nodded, unwilling to speak about himself he turned the conversation. "Is it hard for you to leave?"
Mathieu did not answer at once. They had reached the top of the slope. He reined his horse to a halt. Remy stopped beside him. The valley lay beneath them.
"It is hard to leave," Mathieu admitted. "It's the nearest to a home I have had for a while, and I will not feel confident that Debrauche is safe until we find the shadow creature and end this evil."
Though he had joined Jaime and Brother Liam, Remy had not thought of the shadow creature as a threat in this way. "The Marechal St Andre is dead. The King has our evidence," he hesitated. "Sieur Edouard is gone. Surely it is done?"
"Perhaps," said Mathieu. "But we do not know for sure that St Andre was behind this, if he and de Chamfort acted alone." Mathieu urged his horse on, turning away with a last glance to the valley. "Jaime is right. It will not be finished until Valderon is rid of this creature and its servants. We have to be certain."
"Isn't that the King's job, now he knows?"
Mathieu grunted. "It is, but Ferdinand has been unwilling to believe in the shadow creature. His interest lies closer to home. Treachery and treason, Kings fear it from those of their blood above all else. It takes all his attention."
Remy thought about this. "The King has a duty to all his people. Like a knight, he should protect the weak."
"True enough, Remy." Mathieu clapped him on the shoulder. "But what should be is not always the way of things. Kings are driven by the same desires as all men."
"Desires?"
"Perhaps I should say concerns, such as family, security, fame, even Kings have hopes and desires."
Remy nodded. This was easier to understand. He had hoped to succeed at Chamfort, to be a knight, to win tournaments and fame. To attract the
lady Eloise's notice. He had yet to fulfill one of his dreams.
"I've kept up my training. I've been practicing and drilling each day with a sword." He needed to say this, even if Mathieu did not understand.
"That's good; we will need you, Remy."
For a moment he felt proud, as if everything could be made right. All his past mistakes forgotten. "Do you think we can find the shadow creature?"
Mathieu smiled though his voice held a hint of tiredness. "I think Liam and Jaime will not stop until they succeed. They will drag us with them." He glanced sideways. "I'm surprised to find you here, Remy; I thought you wanted to go home. You've earned the right."
Remy felt a blush of shame spread over his face. He could not help it, though he did not think Mathieu intended to wound. He had earned nothing. "I can't go home until this is done," he said. "I may not be a knight, but I have a duty too."
Mathieu did not deny it. He reached out to touch Remy's shoulder. "I'm sorry we dragged you into it."
Remy had felt the same and resented it, many times. Now he saw things differently. "You did not. You rescued me." The words were hard to speak, not because he did not mean them, but because he was ashamed. "Jaime was right. I'm sorry if I have seemed ungrateful."
Mathieu shook his head; his grip tightened. "You've nothing to apologize for."
"I doubt Jaime would agree."
Mathieu laughed, after a moment Remy laughed with him. He laughed but something had changed. He believed what he had said about duty. He felt it in his heart. He might not be a knight, but that duty to protect was his as much as the King's.
He was not a child to be sheltered at the cost of others. Life was not a game. It was dangerous and he would play his part.
Chapter 86
Edouard picked up a pannier and set it on his shoulder as if it was something he did every day. He eased into the line of men heading for the kitchen doors. Outside more carts were arriving, each piled high with supplies, meat, bread, flowers and fruit. A stream of reluctant donkeys and short tempered men were making their noisy way up the hill. By some good chance, he had chosen a busy moment to attempt his escape. With the empty pannier resting light on his shoulder, Edouard walked towards the gates among a group of rough clad men. He matched his stride with theirs. More carts were approaching, cresting the hill to shouts, curses and the crack of whips.
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