Chatelaine of Forez

by Vijaya Schartz

  Yet, what about Damas? Was he stealing his gold? The lady's accusations troubled him. He's sensed no lie when she accused him. But the commander had served his father, and saved Artaud's life more than once in battle. How could anyone doubt such a dedicated vassal?

  Apart from the lady's word, Artaud had no proof, and although immortals never lied, they couldn't be trusted. They knew ways to bend words and give them many meanings. Still, Artaud would investigate, but discreetly, and only to ease his mind and prove her wrong.

  As the stallion picked its steps up the steep incline leading to the castle gate, Artaud's heart weighed like a stone in his chest.

  Was he daft, to banish an immortal from his lands? Would the Great One punish him for it with a curse of his own? He feared his rash decision to cancel the wedding and banish Lady Melusine might invite unknown dangers, chaos, even calamity to his doorsteps.

  Worse, he'd now angered the archbishop as well with his missive. Artaud had the sinking sensation that his troubles had just begun.

  * * *

  Unable to find sleep, Artaud opened the wood shutters of his bedchamber window, inviting the frigid air inside. Something had roused the guards. From the height of the keep, he could see torches moving frantically atop the outer wall near the main gate. Snow flurries danced in the night.

  Glad for the distraction, Artaud buckled his baldric, grabbed his cloak, and rushed down the narrow winding stairs of the keep, then across the sleepy hall, and out into the cold night of the courtyard, where snow muffled his footsteps. He welcomed the brisk air as he hurried through the inner bailey, toward the guard house. Halfway there, a guard bundled in his cloak ran toward him and saluted.

  "What is this all about?" Artaud's voice sounded rough as his breath plumed in front of his face.

  "He says his name is Belenos, my lord."

  "The old healer?" Strange visit.

  "He requests an immediate audience. Says ‘tis important, and he must speak to the lords of Forez." The guard switched his weight from foot to foot.

  Belenos, a friend of the family, was a bit odd, a holy hermit. People needing his services usually went to him, he rarely left his cave. "Did he come alone?"

  "Aye." The shivering guard blew on his fingers while awaiting orders.

  Artaud grunted at the prospect of more troubles. "Admit him through the back postern, and have him escorted to the library."

  The guard nodded.

  "Oh, and send someone to tell Ida and Guilli to meet me there, too."

  "Aye, my lord." The guard turned around and left.

  As he started back toward the keep, Artaud wondered what could be so urgent in Belenos's mind that it couldn't wait until morning... especially in this weather.

  Artaud chuckled at the thought of Guilli and Ida asleep in their beds. His young brother would resent being roused in the middle of the night, but since he'd expressed an interest in the affairs of Forez, Artaud would gladly include him. Three minds were better than one, even when the last decision remained his.

  Artaud arrived first to the library. He revived the dying fire, added a log to it, and with a firebrand, lit the candelabrum on the table. Then he gathered the armful of scrolls and parchments cluttering the surface, and climbed a ladder to store them out of sight, on the highest shelf. No one needed to know he'd been researching the ondine of Luxembourg.

  By the time he'd dragged three chairs to one side of the long table and placed another one in the free space in front of it, Ida walked into the library. She wore tunic and hose, like a man, her rich copper hair pulled into a braid. He hoped she would marry and find happiness with some rich lord. Despite her tall frame and prominent nose, she had a warm smile, intelligence, and youth on her side.

  Guilli stumbled in behind her, the cowlicks in his hair and dark circles under his eyes attesting to his lack of sleep. "What is all the bustle about?"

  "‘Tis Belenos, the old healer."

  "Belenos, here?" Ida's face tensed. "Must be mighty important for the old gizzard to leave his cave."

  "Take your seats, and we shall find out."

  As the three sat down, a guard brought the old hermit into the room, guided him to the chair and left, closing the door.

  Leaning on his walking stick, Belenos stood behind his chair, hirsute, snowflakes on his hood and in his long beard, steely gray eyes wide in the torchlight. "I had an important vision, my lords... more like a prophecy."

  Ida frowned. "What kind of prophecy?"

  Guilli roused from his torpor. "Is it good or bad?"

  The old man's lips moved silently, then he spoke. "It depends, my lords."

  Artaud indicated the chair. "Sit and tell us about this vision of yours, old friend."

  The old man sat gingerly then sighed. "I saw the Fleur-de-Lys as a bloody standard. I saw Robert of France burning monks at the stake in Orleans. French churchmen punished for the error of their beliefs."

  Artaud blanched. He knew trouble was coming. If Robert of France joined the cleansing crusade, it wouldn't be long until all of Christendom descended upon Forez. "Did you see any salvation for Forez, old friend?"

  "Aye." Belenos smiled. "Your only hope is in a new banner, a symbol of hope. If you adopt it, it will fly proudly over Forez for millennia."

  Ida straightened her tall frame. "I like those odds."

  Guilli blinked, now wide awake. "What is this lucky banner you saw in your vision?"

  "‘Tis a golden dolphin in waters of red."

  Ida frowned. "A gold dolphin?"

  "A kind dolphin, my lords. With ears and a smiling mouth. A female dolphin, flipping her hair, all golden from the lovely head to the happy fish tail."

  Artaud suppressed a gasp. The naked image of an ondine surging from the water and flipping her hair flashed upon his mind. Lady Melusine, like a golden fish in her pond.

  Guilli scratched his mussed hair. "What does it mean?"

  "You can survive the religious persecutions..." Belenos nodded, lips pressed together. "But only if you adopt for your new banner the golden dolphin in waters of red."

  The symbolism did not escape Artaud. Melusine was the dolphin. What kind of trick was this? Did she put Belenos up to this? No. The old man was a loyal friend... and wise. "Was there anything else? Just the banner can save us?"

  "That's all I saw, my lords. If there is a hidden meaning in the prophecy, the vision didn't show it to me. Maybe you can interpret it better." He shook his grizzled head. "But the urgent need to tell you right away led me to believe ‘twas important beyond what I can see and understand."

  Artaud understood perfectly. "It is indeed timely, and of the utmost importance, my friend. I thank you for coming all this way in the cold. Will you take food, and sleep in a bed for the rest of the night? You can return to your cave in the morning."

  "I appreciate your kind hospitality, my lords. But beds do not agree with me. And besides, I have potions to make. Villagers will come for them at sunrise." The old man rose, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

  "At least, accept a ride. You need not walk all the way back."

  The old man nodded and smiled. "You are kind, Lord Artaud."

  Artaud answered the smile. "Guard!"

  The door opened and the guard walked in. "Aye, my lord."

  "Find Belenos a horse and accompany him back home."

  After the old man and the guard left, and the door closed, Artaud sighed. He recognized the greater reach of the symbolism, but he couldn't share Melusine's secret with his siblings. Still, he wanted their opinion. "What do you think?"

  Guilli shrugged. "If adopting a new banner will save us and the Pagans of Forez from burning at the stake, I say let's do it."

  Ida nodded gravely. "And if it insures the survival of Forez for thousands of years, we have naught to lose."

  "Then, it shall be done." The banner however, was the easy part. Inviting the golden dolphin itself into the fold was another matter. Could Artaud overcome his fears and invite a cu
rsed changeling into his home? He had to try.

  Artaud dreaded his next visit to Lady Melusine. He wasn't good at apologies. If he swallowed his pride, however, he hoped the lady would take him back. Although he cared not for her curse, he found himself looking forward to the woman's return.

  Chapter Six

  Montverdun, spring of 1029

  From the side saddle of her white mare, Melusine admired the unfinished walls of Montverdun. The rhythmic ring of chisel against stone echoed off the rocky hills, and gray dust filled the air. Heavy carts pulled by oxen carried rough stones up the incline from the nearby quarry.

  She turned to Artaud, riding with her on the trail. "Your third fortresses in one year is already impressive, my lord."

  He cast her a sidelong glance and offered a grudging smile. "It will be magnificent. The square merlons perfectly match your original design."

  A spark flickered in his dark brown eyes, then Artaud kicked his black stallion's flanks, and Melusine followed him through the wide open gate, inside the enclosure.

  Among the shouts of workers, levers and ropes lifted the heavy granite blocks, while masons guided the careful laying of each stone. The soldiers of the garrison already living there manned the pulleys and ropes, chanting rhythmic stanzas as they heaved.

  Artaud gazed around as if ignoring her, but Melusine sensed it required an effort on his part. His apology after discovering her in ondine shape had been chilly at best. She'd gladly returned to his side, daring to hope again, although he sternly remained closed to any talk of marriage. For now, she settled for a friendly alliance.

  Melusine had long ago learned the art of patience. In time, she hoped he would accept her curse and overlook her monthly transformations. But would he ever love her for what she truly was? Not just woman, or Fae, but ondine as well?

  Sigefroi once did, and she longed for that exhilarating feeling of complete acceptance, trust and wonder again. Of course, her redemption from the curse depended upon it.

  The new banner of Forez, the frolicking golden dolphin in waters of red, fluttered in the cool breeze from the finished part of the gray ramparts. No one, except Melusine and Artaud, understood the full meaning of this unusual banner, especially for a land remote from the sea.

  Artaud stopped his mount, and Melusine brought her mare to his level.

  An overseer in the leather apron of a stone mason, walked up to them and bowed. "My lord, my lady, welcome to Montverdun." Catching Melusine's gaze, he added, "Everyone likes the new banner. A prophecy from Belenos is a good omen, an auspicious sign."

  "Aye, that it is." Artaud remained in the saddle.

  The overseer grinned. "It symbolizes the plentiful rivers and the gold of Forez, does it not?"

  Adjusting her position in the clumsy side saddle, Melusine refrained from correcting the man. Dolphins were sea creatures, and fish didn't frolic the same way dolphins did. Nor did dolphins smile, have ears, or flick their mane. Pointing it out, however, could only bring up dangerous questions.

  "Aye. ‘Tis what the banner means." Artaud dismissed the man with a wave.

  The man returned to his duties.

  Melusine rode alongside Artaud at a leisurely pace across the vast enclosure of Montverdun. She could sense harmony flowing between the two of them, despite his efforts to seem cold.

  White tents filled the space where barracks would soon stand. The square keep only had two stories so far, and scaffolding hugged the walls like a sheath.

  Galloping hooves signaled a fast rider crossing the gate.

  Melusine turned in the saddle. So did Artaud.

  "My lord!" The messenger shouted, out of breath. Then he halted his palfrey next to them and tightened the reins as the animal balked. "An army is marching upon Montarcher."

  Melusine's heart skipped a beat. "So soon?"

  Artaud's dark brow shot up. "How many?"

  The red-faced young man finally calmed his mount. "Our lookout counted over a thousand men as they entered the mountain pass. They are still two days away."

  "Two days..." Melusine was glad for all the preparations already under way. "The larders are full, the villagers are warned and the soldiers well trained. We can be ready in two days."

  "We'll have to be." Artaud tensed and his grip tightened on the pommel of his saddle. "Where did the archbishop find so many soldiers?"

  Melusine closed her eyes and stilled her mind to prompt a quick vision of the enemy. Framed by mountains, she saw mounted knights and foot soldiers advancing on the wide Roman road from Lyon, under the banner of a prancing gold lion on a field of azure.

  She opened her eyes and met Artaud's worried gaze. "It seems Archbishop Bouchard has called upon his half-brother, Renaud of Burgundy."

  "The plague take him and his kin!" Artaud hissed between clenched teeth and slammed the pommel of his saddle. "They've wanted to annex Forez for a long time."

  Melusine knew the lay of the land from her forays in the rivers and the maps in the library. The Roman road from Lyon led straight to Montarcher. "We can stop their advance at Montarcher, before they get any farther."

  "Aye." Artaud's hard stare set upon the young messenger. "Go to Essalois and tell them to prepare for a siege, as we planned, but have them send half their garrison to Montarcher."

  The messenger saluted and turned his palfrey around. He kicked the animal's flanks and raced out of Montverdun's unfinished castle.

  The reality of the upcoming battle struck Melusine. "What if they divide their troops and attack Essalois as well?"

  "I doubt they will do that." Artaud's somber brow furrowed. "The archbishop wants to kill me and my brother, and he knows we both reside in Montarcher. That's where he will concentrate his assault."

  Melusine motioned with her chin toward the soldiers pushing and shoving the heavy stones dangling from ropes. "What about the garrison helping build this castle?"

  Artaud's gaze scanned the busy enclosure. "They are coming with us."

  "That's still not a match for the invading army." Melusine dreaded the confrontation.

  "But they'll fight in the open, while we have the protection of strong, granite walls." The resolve in Artaud's voice did not quite reassure her.

  Renaud of Burgundy and his soldiers had a reputation for barbaric brutality. Battles filled Melusine with uncertainty. They never went exactly as planned, even with magic tipping the scales. Sigefroi had suffered despicable torture in a sordid dungeon. She didn't want Artaud to suffer the same fate.

  Still, despite the risks involved, Melusine intended to use magic. Although she'd have to ask the Great One's permission, and make certain no one caught her doing it.

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Melusine, in full chain mail sparkling like gold in the sun, rode into Montarcher through the main gate, still open to let in troops and victuals before the siege, as well as refugees from neighboring farms and villages. The enemy would arrive on the morrow.

  The full helmet concealed her features, and her white surcoat flaunted the new crest of Forez, the jumping dolphin of gold in waters of red. She intended to keep her face hidden at all times, for fear Artaud would see through her magic glamour.

  At her belt hung the legendary sword Caliburn, forged by the Celtic god Gofannon in the otherworld. A subtle blue radiance emanated from the blade.

  Since Artaud still refused to consider her as a bride, Melusine could not entrust him with Caliburn. Yet, the magic sword could make the difference between defeat and victory. So, she'd decided to wield it herself. Who better to win a righteous battle, than a Fae with an invincible sword? Fortunately, the Great One had agreed.

  Since Artaud would certainly not allow her to fight if she asked, Melusine had decided to play the mysterious knight, come to defend the oppressed against tyranny. The glamour made her look tall and muscular, bathed in an aura of strength. It seemed to be working, too. Servants and soldiers stopped unloading the carts to gawk at the mysterious knight in wonder.

&
nbsp; Melusine waved at them and nodded. Servants and soldiers waved back with a smile, before returning to their tasks with renewed fervor. Good. Hope was an essential element of victory.

  * * *

  The next day, from the top of his ramparts, Artaud considered the enemy army setting camp by the river, around the outcrop of Montarcher. Tents, campfires, and busy ant-like soldiers filled the bottom of the hill, just beyond arrow range.

  Artaud had not seen Melusine since the morning before, and missed her company and her advice. She'd chosen to stay outside the walls, and he knew better than to question her decision. She could help in so many other ways, and would remain quite safe in her inconspicuous abode.

  Commander Damas approached on the wall walk in a jingle of mail, shiny plumed helmet under his arm, the red cross of Couzan emblazoned on his surcoat.

  A quiet inspection and surveillance of the Lignon's gold mines had revealed evidence of recent mining, but nothing to incriminate Damas in particular. Still, Artaud had decided to keep him close, and watch for any suspicious activity on his part. Besides, he needed the seasoned soldier's expertise to win this battle.

  Damas gazed upon the deploying army far below and pointed to the forest line. "They have two catapults, and one trebuchet."

  Artaud had seen them earlier. "The hill is steep. Not the best position for a catapult... the trebuchet, however, has a wider throwing arc."

  Damas stared in the distance. "It could be deadly."

  Artaud hid his concern and patted the square merlon. "We shall see how these granite walls handle it."

  Damas rubbed his silver gray beard. "We are also outnumbered."

  "It matters not." Artaud hoped the protection of the Great One would bring them victory against the assaults of the archbishop, especially as they faced Burgundy's infernal army.

  The tingling sensation of someone's stare upon his nape made Artaud glance back. At the top of the square keep, standing in the space between two merlons, the mysterious knight in glittering armor observed them.