The Crusader's Handfast

by Claire Delacroix

  She read from Lady Eudaline’s book!

  Radegunde could not be licking the pages to part them, not given what she knew of the poison.

  Duncan hastened to the door and put his eye to the keyhole. To his relief, Radegunde wore gloves and he saw that she separated the pages with water and a knife.

  His clever lady had found a solution.

  He would ensure that both knife and gloves were destroyed.

  Lady Marie paced across his view repeatedly, almost unrecognizable in her fury, and he could not see Rohese from his vantage point. Duncan listened, certain more witnesses to the book’s contents would be better.

  “Let me tell more of Fulk’s demise. Fulk rode out to parlay with Sebastien, though he told no one of his intent but me, and he rode out alone. He returned with an injury inflicted by a lance but would not accuse Sebastien. He instructed me to ensure that Gaston left France immediately, for he knew he could not survive the wound. He was convinced that Bayard would be safe so long as Gaston drew breath. I had many questions, but did as bidden and wrote to my son, who was in service to the Templars. I heard soon after of Gaston’s departure for Outremer. I retired to the convent after Fulk’s death to draw attention from Gaston, my curiosity unabated. I have made inquiries these years and finally have learned that Bayard was safe, not because Gaston drew breath nor even because Sebastien had himself died, but because Sebastien had changed his strategy to claim Châmont-sur-Maine.”

  There was a pause.

  “There is a piece of vellum between the pages,” Radegunde said, pulling it loose and frowning at it. “It looks to be a family tree.”

  “Nay! Give me that!” Lady Marie cried and seized the scrap. Radegunde snatched after it but the lady held it aloft. Duncan tried the door, fearing all went awry.

  It was securely locked.

  “She knew! The witch!” Lady Marie declared and dropped to her knees before the brazier. She tried to strike the flint while defending the vellum from Radegunde.

  “You shall not destroy it!” Radegunde fought Lady Marie for custody of the flint. To Duncan’s satisfaction, she wrested it from the noblewoman. She cast it out the window and was slapped across the face for her defiance. The blow sent her staggering backward and Duncan tried the door again.

  “Who told her?” Lady Marie demanded. “Who betrayed me?”

  “Who told her what?” Rohese asked, sounding fearful of her mother’s wrath. She must have been standing near the door, out of Duncan’s view.

  “It is not for you to know,” Lady Marie retorted, even as Radegunde tried to claim the vellum again. The women fought over it.

  “More secrets!” Rohese cried, as if some barrier had snapped within her. She lunged into view, launching herself at her mother. “Is that not the root of all evil in this place? Let me see!” Lady Marie held the piece of vellum out of reach.

  Duncan jumped at the weight of a hand upon his shoulder and realized that Lord Gaston and Lady Ysmaine had arrived, with Bartholomew behind them. He stepped aside, so that Gaston could better view events, though he was reluctant to lose sight of Radegunde.

  “Wretch!” Lady Marie cried, then Duncan heard someone’s weight fall to the floor. He itched to see, but Gaston frowned and straightened.

  “There. No one will know of it now,” Lady Marie said with satisfaction.

  Lord Gaston murmured to Bartholomew and that man fled down the stairs. Had she flung the vellum out the window? Duncan guessed that Bartholomew had been dispatched to retrieve it before the river washed away whatever was written upon it.

  “I shall cast you after it if you do not read the rest,” Lady Marie threatened.

  Radegunde cleared her throat and began to read again. “As the enclosed document reveals, Bayard unwittingly wed the bastard spawn of Sebastien. Though Marie had been raised at Roquelle, she was not of that family’s blood. They accepted payment from Sebastien to raise his bastard daughter as their own, and it was he who suggested to the lord of the manor that her best match would be with Fulk’s son. And so it is that Sebastien might have gained the holding for his kin in the end, if Marie had borne a son to Bayard. When she did not, the scheme was thwarted. When I discovered her lineage, I sent word to Bayard for I had no wish for him to shelter a viper in his own bed.” There was a rustle as Radegunde parted the pages again. “He died the day after receiving my missive.”

  “A coincidence,” Lady Marie insisted.

  “A murder,” Rohese corrected. “You killed him. You killed Papa!”

  “He meant to cast me out!” Lady Marie cried. “She betrayed me to my own husband!”

  “And so you poisoned him, the husband who had treated you with honor and dignity,” Rohese charged.

  “That is sufficient.” Lord Gaston placed his key in the lock and turned it audibly. Though he was composed, the vigor with which he kicked open the door showed his anger. The three women spun to regard him with surprise. “It says much of your nature that you believed the murder of your own spouse to be a fitting solution,” he said grimly to Lady Marie.

  Her eyes lit with anger. “And who would you defend, if you were compelled to choose between your spouse and your blood? Would you take Ysmaine over Bayard, or the other way around?”

  “I thought Millard was your lover,” Rohese whispered, her features pale.

  “Silence!” Lady Marie snapped.

  “The family tree was evidence of your betrayal,” Gaston continued. “Did Sebastien have more hidden children?”

  Lady Marie glared at them all in defiance. “You will never know.”

  There was the sound of a footfall from behind them, and Bartholomew knocked at the open door, his breathing quick. He bowed and presented a damp piece of vellum to Gaston. “I caught it as soon as I could, my lord.”

  “Nay!” Lady Marie whispered, but it was too late. Lord Gaston scanned the document, then handed it to his wife.

  “It is true. Millard is your brother,” she said. “Yet you wedded him to his own niece!”

  “Half-brother,” Lady Marie corrected tersely.

  Lady Ysmaine frowned at the piece of vellum. “But you were raised as the daughter of the house of Roquelle.”

  “They were paid and paid well to shelter me and hide my truth. I owe them naught.”

  “And so Sebastien’s quest to hold Châmont-sur-Maine was pursued by his spawn,” Gaston said. “Save that you did not bear a son.”

  “Azalaïs would have done so, if you had not come home so quickly,” Lady Marie insisted. “Or Rohese in her stead.”

  “Wedded by force to my uncle!” Rohese whispered in horror. “It is unholy.”

  “And yet you wrote to me,” Lord Gaston mused. “Summoning me home.”

  Lady Marie exhaled in vexation. “I had no choice. The bishop arrived and asked if you had been notified. I had said I had no means to see that any missive reached you in Outremer, but he offered to ensure its delivery.” Her lips tightened. “I thought you would be dead, or that by the time you returned, Azalaïs would have delivered an heir. I believed my brother could defend what should be our own.” Her eyes narrowed. “Indeed, I prayed mightily for your demise.”

  “And the futility of your prayers is evidence of divine judgment upon you.” Lady Ysmaine stepped forward, putting her hand on her husband’s elbow. “For my lord husband found allies on his quick journey home.”

  Lady Marie glared at them both, her displeasure clear.

  “You would have wedded me to him, as well,” Rohese repeated, her tone bitter. “And he would have beaten me, as he beat Azalaïs. You are no mother, but a viper who cares for no one.”

  “Bite your tongue!”

  “Nay, I will tell the truth, and I will confess all of it to Uncle Gaston, for he is a man of honor like Papa. Millard will die in that duel, by God’s grace, and rightly so, for he is a fiend from Hell. Azalaïs knew it well.” Rohese’s tongue was loosed. “I thought he was the one who had the gloves poisoned for Uncle Gaston, but he i
s not that clever, is he, Maman? It was you, was it not? Are you not the one who knows so much of poison in this keep?”

  “She knows as much as me,” Lady Marie said, pointing to Radegunde.

  “But she saved me from your plot with the gloves,” Lord Gaston said with resolve. “The truth of Radegunde’s nature is revealed by her deeds, just as your truth is shown by yours.” Lady Marie’s lips tightened. “You will spend this night in the dungeon, though I regret that it is necessary to treat my brother’s widow thus.”

  “That she is Bayard’s murderer absolves you of any such compassion,” Lady Ysmaine said and Lord Gaston nodded agreement.

  At his gesture, Duncan strode to the lady and bound her wrists behind her back. Her fury was palpable. “You will regret this, Gaston. I will guarantee it.”

  “I fear you will be the one to regret your choices,” Gaston said. “The king does not look kindly upon murderers.”

  “You will not dispatch me to his court!”

  “Indeed, I will, for I could not be said to be impartial in this instance.” Lady Marie seethed, but Lord Gaston smiled at his niece. “And you will choose your own course, Rohese. You may remain in my household.”

  “I would like to share my mother’s truth with the people who I have known as my grandparents,” the maiden said. “They are owed as much, though they will not welcome it.” She squared her shoulders. “They are good people and cannot have known of my mother’s scheme.”

  That they had taken payment from this Sebastien to raise his bastard daughter was a dubious credit, in Duncan’s view, but perhaps they had been deceived by that man. Doubtless they had also been deceived by their adopted daughter.

  Lady Ysmaine smiled. “And in assuming this task, you show your own nature, Rohese. We will ensure that you journey there safely.” She drew the younger woman to her side, and Rohese seemed to welcome the attention though still she looked shaken.

  “Steal my home and my child,” Lady Marie muttered as Bartholomew urged her from the portal. “I have been cheated well and truly this day.” With that, she marched down the stairs.

  “I cannot rest in this chamber, Gaston,” Lady Ysmaine said. “Not now.”

  “I will ensure that there is wine for you at the board,” Lord Gaston said, then offered one elbow to his wife and the other to his niece. He surrendered the key to Duncan.

  When they departed, Duncan crossed the chamber and lit the brazier, ensuring that the flames leaped high. He claimed the knife from Radegunde’s grip and cast it into the flames. Lady Eudaline’s book and the piece of vellum were wrapped and placed in a satchel to be sent to the king, then Radegunde cast the tainted gloves into the fire as well.

  “God in Heaven, it is done,” she whispered, then fell into his arms. “I never suspected her. Did you?”

  “I knew her too little to guess.” Duncan had naught good to say about a woman who would sacrifice her own daughter for her ends. Indeed, he was so relieved that Radegunde was hale that he found he had no ability to speak at all. He pulled her into his embrace and held her tightly. She kissed his throat and sagged against him just as the fanfare sounded from the bailey below.

  “My father,” she whispered.

  “I suspect he will fight well,” Duncan said, hoping to reassure her.

  “I must see.”

  Radegunde gripped Duncan’s hand tightly as he led her out of the chamber, though, and he hoped that he was right.

  * * *

  Radegunde was glad that they missed the beginning of the battle, for the men fought so hard that she could scarcely bear to look. This was no jest at war. One of them would die. By the time Duncan found her a vantage point in the bailey, Thierry was backing Millard against the packed earth with powerful strokes. Both men sported wounds and had smears of fresh blood on their armor, but Millard appeared to be tiring.

  Or perhaps he had been distressed by the sight of Lady Marie being taken to the dungeon.

  Radegunde wondered whether her father’s vigil in the forest was serving him well, for that interval could not have been a life of ease. In contrast, Millard had been savoring the pleasures of Châmont-sur-Maine these past months and might have neglected his practice.

  She hoped it were so, and that her father would triumph soon.

  They had a mace and a sword each, and both knights held the mace in their right hand. Thierry swung the mace, but Millard suddenly leaped forward. He brought down his own mace with such vigor that his exhaustion must have been feigned. Their proximity gave Thierry little chance to evade the blow and the mace landed hard upon his wrist. Radegunde gasped. She was sure she heard a bone crack. Thierry dropped his own mace, his pain obvious, and Millard kicked it away. The balance shifted and Millard began to back Thierry across the bailey.

  She clutched at Duncan, terrified for her father’s fate.

  Millard swung his mace as Thierry thrust with his sword. The blade was swept away with a clatter, though her father dove after it. Millard pursued him, the mace swinging high, but Thierry twisted and kicked at Millard’s feet. Millard stumbled. Thierry stood up quickly and Millard froze when the point of Thierry’s recovered blade was against his throat. There was a gap there, between hauberk and coif, and the point of the blade had found skin.

  Millard dropped the mace.

  He dropped the sword.

  “To the death,” Thierry reminded him. The company caught their breath and waited for Thierry to strike the killing blow.

  But nay. He lifted the sword away and stepped back. There was a prick of blood at Millard’s throat and no more. Thierry removed his helmet and turned to face Gaston. His hair was damp and his face was pale. Radegunde guessed that his wrist was broken.

  “Has there not been enough death in this hall of late?” Thierry asked, his voice a low rumble of reason and Radegunde adored her father all over again.

  The company smiled as one.

  Then they gasped aloud, for Millard leaped after his opponent. He landed on Thierry’s back with such force that the other man staggered. The company cried out in outrage, but Millard had pulled his knife and placed it against Thierry’s bare throat. Mathilde paled. Radegunde could not bear to blink.

  “Marie and I shall walk out of this keep, with Rohese,” Millard declared.

  “You know I cannot allow as much,” Gaston said softly.

  Millard made to move the knife.

  Thierry slumped in defeat.

  Millard smiled.

  In a heartbeat, Thierry spun in Millard’s grip. He kicked Millard’s feet out from beneath him, flung that man on his back, and kicked him in the groin. When Millard moaned, Thierry seized his opponent’s blade and held it beneath his chin.

  “There will not be another death in this keep on this day,” Lord Gaston said with authority. “Millard may keep his life, on the condition that he beg the forgiveness of Thierry de Roussignon on his knees before us all.”

  “And then I will walk free,” Millard said.

  Gaston shook his head. “And then you will savor the hospitality of my dungeon, with your sister.” Many in the company gasped at this revelation. “On the morrow, you will be escorted to the king’s court to stand trial for your crimes.”

  Millard sneered. “I will kiss no man’s boot.”

  “So be it.” Gaston gestured.

  Two of the Templars who had accompanied their party from Paris stepped forward and bound Millard’s wrists behind his back. He was urged across the bailey, even as he yelled in protest, then disappeared into the hall where the entrance to the dungeon was located.

  Lord Gaston visibly took a deep breath. “Thierry, I will send a missive to your former patron, explaining all we have learned this day. If you would visit him to reconcile, I would entrust that letter to you.”

  “I would be honored to deliver it, Lord Gaston.” Thierry bowed low. He turned and offered his hand to Mathilde who hastened toward him with obvious joy. He caught her in his arms and swung her around. Radegunde was n
ot the sole one pleased to see her mother so well rewarded.

  Of course, Mathilde was quick to examine Thierry’s wrist and to lead him aside so she could tend it. Thierry did not look inclined to protest any of her attentions. Lady Richildis smiled at the reunited pair with pleasure. Michel looked awed and pleased, and Radegunde’s own heart was thumping that justice had been served.

  “And you should take your son as your companion,” Lord Amaury declared. “For you have known little of each other these years, and I would spare him from my service for such a quest.”

  There were more formalities and polite responses exchanged before Radegunde herself was embraced by her father. Congratulations and good wishes rang out in the bailey, then Lord Gaston’s call for dancing in the hall was greeted with enthusiasm.

  Duncan held fast to Radegunde’s hand, and they returned to the hall as the minstrels struck a merry tune. The tables were pushed back and the entire company took to the floor to dance. It would be late before their merrymaking eased, and if Marie and Millard railed against their situation, not a soul heard their protest.

  Or cared for their discomfort.

  Friday, December 25, 1187

  Feast of the Nativity of Jesus Christ

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Radegunde tried to enjoy the festivities of the season, but could not forget that Duncan would soon be departing. Much had occurred in the months since Lord Gaston’s feast and homecoming. Lady Marie and Lord Millard had been discovered to be missing from the dungeon on the morning after their incarceration. It had become clear that Benedicta had aided in their escape for that maid had disappeared at the same time. Rohese had been gone, as well, though none believed she had accompanied her mother willingly.