by Mary Yarde
“Your father, he destroyed so many lives…” Budic growled the words.
“My father?” she cleared her throat. She had not been concentrating on the conversation. Her thoughts were a muddle, and she felt like her heart had just been ripped in two. She wanted to scream with the injustice of it. She had been wrong. It was not Merton who had broken her heart, it was Budic. She thought back to when Merton had told her she was to marry Marcus. He had been trying to explain something, but she had been too upset to listen. Oh, how she wished she had listened. Maybe, they could have run away together.
“Your father tried to kill me,” Budic said in annoyance. “He came damn close to succeeding as well. You know what he did.”
“I am sorry. It…it upsets me to be reminded,” Josephine stammered over the words.
“It upsets you?” Budic scoffed. “What have you got to be upset about? It didn’t happen to you.”
Josephine’s breath caught in her throat at his cruel words. She had been a child when her father died. She had lost everything. But Budic didn’t care about how she had felt. All he cared about was himself. Too late, she opened her eyes and saw the folly of her actions. Oh why, oh why, had she married him?
“I heard it said that pain cannot be remembered,” Budic continued, unaware of his wife’s distress. “But by God, when he took my eye…I had never felt anything like it before, and I have never felt anything like it since.” Budic sighed slowly and deeply as Josephine shakily reached up and touched the silver scar that ran from his eye and down his cheek. She had married the man who had for all intent and purpose killed her father and destroyed any chance of her ever being happy. If it weren’t for Budic, Merton would have been hers, and maybe Brianna would not have died. Budic had deprived her of the life that she wanted. The life she deserved.
“He was the very last person I would have suspected of treachery,” Budic continued. “We had grown up together, fought beside each other in battle. Although I always outranked him, I thought he was my friend. With his betrayal, I never really trusted anyone after that. After everything the two of us had gone through together…for him to turn on me like that.” He sighed again.
“What reason did he give?” Josephine asked, her voice trembling, and her breath was unsteady. She remembered her father only a little. She could remember sitting on his lap by the fire, cuddled into him with his arms about her. He would tell her the most amazing stories about damsels trapped by fire-breathing dragons and the brave knights who would risk life and limb to rescue them. She could recall him tucking her into bed at night and kissing her softly on her forehead. They said he was a drunkard, but she could never remember smelling drink on him. He always smelt of the outside, horses and the sea. Had Budic lied about that as well? Had he blackened her father’s name? Made him out to be someone he wasn’t? But the scar on Budic’s face didn’t lie. Oh, she didn’t know what to believe anymore.
“Reason? There was no reason,” Budic said, blatantly lying, and if Josephine had been concentrating on her husband and not thinking about the past and the injustice she had suffered, she would have seen the sneer on Budic’s battered face. “I was the one who was left to suffer. I was the one who was left disfigured. He got off easy.”
“My father was killed the moment he crossed the border. His throat was slit and his body mutilated,” Josephine said, stating a fact, not thinking of the consequences of speaking out.
“Are you trying to tell me he suffered more?” Budic asked, a sharp edge to his voice. “I have had to live with what he did to me all these years.”
At least you are still alive. Josephine bit her tongue, to stop herself from saying the words. She must not provoke him. Budic wasn’t like Marcus, and he wasn’t like Philippe and by God, he was as far away from Merton as the sun was to the stars. “You have suffered greatly,” she forced the words out. Suffered? Budic did not know the meaning of the word.
“Yes, I have,” Budic replied. “And now, on top of everything, I have to live with the shame that Merton is my brother — half-brother,” he corrected. “I thank God every day for that small mercy.”
“Half-brother?” Josephine looked up at him, thoroughly confused. “What do you mean?”
“I knew what Merton would become from the very beginning.” Budic continued, pretending he had never mentioned Merton’s parentage. Although, it wasn’t Merton’s parentage that was in question. It would not do for his subject’s to know the truth, it would only cause unrest. “I could see it. But of course, Alden knew better,” Budic said mockingly as he raised her hand to his mouth again. If he noticed how her hand shook, he did not mention it. “Let us make ourselves a promise, that when this is over, we will never speak of him, or your father, again.”
“You are my king and my husband. Whatever you say, I will do.” And that was the truth. Budic was all about power and control. She could never defy him. He was now her master.
“Then wife, let us to bed. I am impatient for an heir.”
29
“Philippe was kind to me.” Josephine dared the statement as Budic explained how Merton was going to outfox this so-called argentārius of Philippe’s. She and Budic lay naked in bed. Her eyes were closed. She had kept her eyes closed for the entire time Budic made love to her. In her head, she had pretended it was Merton that was touching her. That it was Merton who was kissing her.
Budic opened his eye, his head resting on the pillow, and looked at her with incredibility.
She sensed his gaze and forced her eyes to open. “Despite everything, Philippe is a good man,” she muttered, immediately knowing that she had said the wrong thing.
Budic sat up and rose to his feet, searching for his clothes. Josephine sat up also, catching the covers to her chest and watched as he covered up his body.
“You are my wife,” Budic said sternly. “Your loyalty is to me and me only. Philippe will get his just deserts.”
“He is to die?” Josephine swallowed the lump in her throat. She had known all along, deep down, that this would be Philippe’s sentence. But she had been taken in by Budic’s grief and his attention to her. She foolishly thought that Budic had changed. Years ago, Merton had told her to stay away from Budic, and it was only today that Philippe had told her to stay away from him as well. Why had she not listened?
“He is a traitor,” Budic answered. “What did you think I would do? He will die on the rock.”
Josephine pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed, not making any move to cover her nakedness, hoping that maybe her body could persuade her husband onto a different path. Perhaps she could plead Philippe’s case while she lay on her back.
“You are beautiful,” Budic said, and she gave him a stiff smile, but he did not come to her as she had expected him to do.
“Get dressed,” he said instead. “We can not spend all day in bed, as much as we may desire it. I do have a country to run.”
Josephine turned her back on him as she gathered her clothes, but her fingers were shaking so much, and without the help of a maid, she could not fasten her dress. But she would not ask her husband for help. She now knew she was not in a position to ask anything of him. She wasn’t Anna, and she never would be. Oh, why wouldn’t the bloody dress fasten?
Budic wasn’t by nature a patient man, and after frowning at her efforts to dress, he decided it would be far quicker if he simply helped her. “You are going to make a stunning queen,” he said as he tied the last tie. “And I can not wait until this,” he laid his hand on her stomach, “is round with my child.”
“Neither can I,” Josephine said, but without the enthusiasm that she had expressed such a desire with before.
“Why has Philippe not been arrested yet?” she dared to ask and saw his eye darken in annoyance, but she wanted answers so she bravely forged on. “Is it because you want to execute Merton with him?”
Budic choked on a laugh at this question. “Execute Merton? What are you talking about?”
“I t
hought maybe you wanted to…” she stopped. Merton had been so sure, yet Budic was looking at her in blatant disbelief. Damn, the du Lacs. How she wished she had never heard of them. “You don’t like him. I thought…”
“I might not like him, but he is my blood. I would not go as far as killing him. Did you think I was trying to lay a trap for him?”
“Of course not,” she shook her head quickly in denial.
“Is that what he thinks? Is that what he told you?”
“He may have said something along those lines,” she said unwillingly. Feeling like she was betraying Merton as dreadfully as she had betrayed Philippe.
Budic started to laugh, and once he started, he could not seem to stop. “Oh, that has made my day.”
She had never heard Budic laugh before, she realised. Not properly, not like this. Not with abandonment and genuine amusement. He had built a wall around himself, she realised. An impregnable stonewall, that no one could break through. What had happened in his life, she wondered, that had made him so cold and so inconsiderate with other people’s lives?
“I don’t want to kill him,” he said, as he tried to contain his laughter. “Despite, appearances, I would lay down my life for Merton and for that matter, Alden as well — although I may be a little bit more reluctant to die in Alden’s case. Josephine…” he looked at her in gentle amusement, “they are my brothers, we share a common past and our lives will always be entwined with each other. I…care for them. But first and foremost I am the King of Brittany. I can not have Alden coming into my kingdom and telling me how to run it, and I cannot condone the man Merton has become.”
“Is that why you haven’t arrested Philippe? Because he is family?”
“I haven’t arrested Philippe because he doesn’t have the balls to challenge me for my kingdom,” he cleared his throat, he had not meant to speak so frankly. Anna used to berate him so when he used vulgar language. Thankfully, Josephine had not seemed to notice. “Philippe isn’t a threat. The real threat is the man who has been feeding his ambition. I want to know who he is and what he wants. I have a strong suspicion that he is already a member of my court. I fear that he has been biding his time to topple me from my throne, and that makes him dangerous. If I arrest Philippe now, this man, whoever he is, will disappear into the shadows, and I will never find him.”
“What can I do?” Josephine asked, genuinely wanting to help, as he took her into his arms.
“Pray that you will soon carry my heir,” he smiled down at her. “And decide how you would like to decorate the Queen’s Chambers. I shall have Anna’s furniture removed, once a respectable amount of time has passed. No doubt you would want everything to be new.”
His statement was met with silence. Suddenly the idea of being a queen was not so appealing. Anna had trusted her. She had been good to her. And now she would be sleeping in her room. It somehow seemed so much more of a betrayal than sleeping with her husband. She prayed that Anna had no notion of becoming a ghost. The thought made her involuntarily shiver.
“You do not like the idea,” Budic said, reading her thoughts. “I can understand your reluctance. You were a good friend to Anna. She cared for you very much. She would not mind you being in her room. In fact, we discussed it.”
“You discussed it?” Josephine asked weakly. “You discussed me?”
“She knew how I felt about you.” There was an edge of bitterness in his voice. His and Anna’s love had turned sour and being together intimately became a duty, nothing more. “She said, before she gave birth, that if anything were to happen to her, then I should marry you.”
“She didn’t say that.”
“I can assure you that she did,” he lied, as he kissed the top of her head. Anna would certainly have not approved of Josephine, but he was long past caring what Anna thought of him. “Yesterday I grieved for my son. And I grieved for what Anna and I had in the beginning. I loved her once, but she had disappointed me so many times. Miscarriage after miscarriage. I never understood why she did not hold on harder to our children. Any love I had for her died in my heart a long time ago. All I wanted was a son. Was that too much to ask?”
“It was the will of God. Anna did nothing wrong.” Josephine recalled a memory from years ago when she had just become a lady-in-waiting to Anna. Anna was heavily pregnant, but she had taken to leisurely strolling in the gardens in the afternoon. On this particular day, the sun had been shining, and the birds had been singing, and the perfume of the flowers filled the air with their sweet scents. But on entering the castle, Anna was suddenly crippled with pain. “I am bleeding,” she had screamed, and Josephine had watched, frozen to the spot, as blood soaked through the fabric of Anna’s beautiful dress. She recalled too late, Budic’s reaction to the news that Anna had lost his son. He had been so angry. He had stormed into Anna’s chamber and shouted at her, demanding to know what she thought she was doing taking a stroll in the gardens. Anna, overcome with grief, had no answer. Josephine now understood what Merton had been saying. If she did not give Budic a healthy son, what then? No. She would not ask herself such questions. Had she not bore Merton, a healthy daughter? She could just as well give Budic a healthy son.
In the corridor, there was a yell and the sound of steel meeting steel and then a grunt and a sickening sound of a man drowning in his own blood.
“What the hell?” Budic muttered, reaching for his sword. He pulled the weapon clear from its sheath and the silver blade reflected the fire in the hearth.
“Budic,” Josephine said his name with fear, as she looked transfixed at the door.
“Get behind me,” Budic commanded as the door opened and Philippe of Manfrey, with at least a dozen knights, marched into the King’s Chamber.
30
It had finally stopped raining. Amandine quickly put on her cloak and stepped out into the cold corridor. She shut the door softly, mindful that her husband was snoring on their bed. He always took a nap just before the evening meal, regardless of the comings and goings at court. He could sleep through an uprising, Amandine thought, as long as it didn’t affect his routine.
Amandine crept down the corridor and then quickly ran down the stairs. Like a ghost, she quietly made her way to the castle entrance. She pulled up the hood of her cloak as she stepped outside. The air, at last, had some warmth to it, although it was still uncharacteristically cold for summer. She made her way across the courtyard, trying her best to avoid all the puddles.
Jenison was waiting for her by the portcullis, just like she had asked him to in the message she had sent him.
“My Lady, you look stunning. Absolutely stunning,” Jenson said, bowing politely. “I hope Lord du Lac wasn’t too angry with you earlier. I must say, I was rather concerned about leaving you with him, but I wasn’t in a position to argue.”
Jenison had no idea how ironic he had just sounded. Merton would rather die than hurt her. In Merton’s company her safety was assured. However, right now, with Jenison, she was not so confident about her well-being.
She trusted in Merton to keep her safe, but she had not seen her shadow. A little part of her feared that Merton had seen sense and left the kingdom like she had begged him to do back in her chamber. If he had, then she was on her own. But then, Jenison wasn’t that big a man. He was far smaller than her husband. There was no need for her to worry unnecessarily. She had not been concerned this morning. It was only when Merton had started to put ideas in her head that she had become fearful.
“Merton wasn’t angry with me. He just did not want me to catch a cold,” Amandine said, smiling up at him, hoping her fear was not reflected in her eyes. “He has always been so very protective of me,” she added, hoping Jenison heard the warning in her unspoken words, but if he had, his face portrayed not an ounce of worry. She gave a little shrug. Budic’s relayed instructions were very clear. She was to find out the name of this mysterious benefactor and to discover, in detail, what Philippe had planned. Budic also wanted to know who supported
Philippe and who had remained loyal to him. It was quite a list of wants, and she wasn’t too sure if she was the right person for the job. It was a compliment, she supposed, that Budic had such confidence in her abilities. And because of his faith, she would gather up her courage and courageously persevere.
“But I do not want to waste what little time we have together talking about him. How has your day been?” she asked.
“Productive,” he said bluntly, then chuckled awkwardly. “But the most enjoyable part, by far, was our walk this morning.” He looked down at the floor, and Amandine could see that the tops of his ears were burning with embarrassment.
“That was mine as well,” she said sweetly.
“I am so glad to hear you say so,” Jenison raised his head and smiled. He did not like his smile; often it came across as a sneer. But for the last few days, he had been practising his smile by looking at himself in the small polished obsidian rock that he had taken from a slave many moons ago. By the look on Amandine’s face, it seemed he had perfected the gesture.
Amandine began to doubt if there was any truth in the stories that she had heard of him. He was just a shy, lonely man, she concluded. He wasn’t the best of company, but he wasn’t a threat either.
She smiled back at him, a little warmer this time. But then he shocked her by grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. She wanted to recoil from his touch — there was something not right about it. Something vile. She suppressed the urge to lean away, dear God she would liefer kiss a viper than be kissed by him.
He did not seem to notice her revulsion at his actions. “I thought we could take a stroll on the beach. Sometimes the tide washes up pretty shells. We could collect them and have them made into a bracelet or some such trinket.” He blushed when he spoke.
Jenison had thought long and hard about what they would do together. He wanted her to feel at ease in his presence. He also wanted to take her somewhere secluded. He enjoyed it so much more when his attack came as a surprise. The look on their faces when they realised there was nothing they could do to stop him. Just thinking about it made him want to… But never mind, there was time for that later. Philippe had informed him earlier that tonight was the night. This was what they had all been waiting for. This was their moment. It would be glorious. It had to be. He had a lot of money staked on it. Those who supported the du Lac’s would not live to see another day. It was going to be bloody. But it was going to be worth it.