Traitor Blade: (Books 1-3)

by Richard Crawford

  "I trusted you, I followed your orders." He realized St Andre must be very sure of the men he had brought with him. Edouard tried to master his anger, but it nearly choked him. "What choice did you give me?"

  "A chance of glory, and you did not care what task I gave you. Did you question? No. And later, when you knew, you made your choice again, Edouard"

  "I made a choice," he admitted. "In a misguided attempt to redeem a mistake, and to protect my family."

  "And you will forgo that protection to them now?"

  "No member of my family would allow me to accept the price you demand. You will pay for Ralmadre."

  He had seen St Andre angry, but never like this. The Marechal's face changed as if remolded by rage. His sword drew back. It was at this moment a man rose from the rocks higher up the hill and walked forward.

  Edouard recognized him and, for the first time, he was truly afraid.

  Chapter 61

  A sudden breeze made Louis shiver. He looked up and saw heavy clouds gathering along the horizon and the sky had darkened to indigo. A storm was coming. He spurred his horse on, glancing anxiously across at his twin. Henri returned the look with an easy grin. There was no obvious reason to be uneasy. They were riding north, heading home escorted by fifty Chamfort knights led by Sieur Angelo.

  It was still early. They had left Etrives at first light, skirting the city to join the north road. Since then they had made only the briefest stops to rest the horses. The baggage train and the knights' other horses had left Etrives the previous day. It meant they could travel fast. The road, paved and well maintained close to the city, was now a mud track hardened after the summer and broad enough to accommodate four horses abreast. After leaving the city behind, it passed into the rolling grasslands, skirting prosperous villages and distant, walled manors. Louis, riding alongside his twin to the front of the cavalcade, hardly noticed. His mind was occupied with the events that had brought them here.

  Arrangements for their departure had been speedily completed over the last few days. Despite the speed, there had not been a feeling of unseemly haste. The Duke had been informed, etiquette had been observed. Louis doubted their departure was of great interest to Duke Lorenzo, grieving for the loss of two sons, one of them his heir, and dealing with the ramifications of the defeat at Ralmadre.

  However reasonable the process seemed, Louis was uneasy. He had no exact reason for the feeling, but it had begun when Sieur Angelo, returning with the army, had come at once to speak with Sieur Michel. Happening to be in the next room, and therefore unable to avoid listening, they had heard raised voices. It was hard to judge the seriousness of the argument as Sieur Angelo nearly always expressed his opinions fiercely. Whatever had been said, Louis knew well enough what had resulted; immediate arrangements for their return to Chamfort. There were obvious reasons, the defeat at Ralmadre, the personal disaster that had struck Etrives, but he had a feeling there was another reason. And that feeling was borne out by Sieur Michel's current absence.

  Louis understood what it meant for Sieur Michel to leave them. He knew there must be a problem serious enough to require his personal attention or someone, whom at this moment required looking after more than they did. To Louis both these possibilities gave rise to one answer. Edouard.

  This process of reasoning came easily to Louis, the youngest and quietest of four sons. Some might resent that position, particularly when Henri claimed seniority by barely an hour. But there were certain advantages to being the youngest, particularly when your seniors, each in their own way, had the dazzling Vallentin brilliance. Louis had respect for Charles's intellect, for Edouard's courage and he was in awe of Henri's potential. He also understood each had their weaknesses. Of course, he loved them all; Henri was his twin and that bond was like no other, but Edouard held a special place in his affections. It had always been so, but as he had grown he had come to understand why. Brave, arrogant and foolish, for all his brilliance, Edouard was flawed by an insecurity that was alien to Charles or Henri, but it was a feeling Louis understood completely. He always had the sense that, despite his successes, Edouard was not happy.

  Now with each league their horses covered, his unease grew. As much as he loved Edouard, Louis was aware of his failings; his ability to cause trouble was legendary. Surrounded by fifty of Chamfort's most powerful knights, it seemed obvious to him that if Edouard was in trouble Sieur Michel should not have to deal with it alone. Louis wrestled with the problem as they traveled another league. Usually he tried not to cause trouble, knowing that Henri caused enough for both of them. But as they breasted a short incline he turned his horse to the side of the road and reined it to a walk.

  With typical intuition, Henri mirrored his actions. In moments, the cavalcade reacted, slowing and turning with speed and precision. Louis heard Sieur Angelo curse. Feeling a little nervous, he sat waiting. Henri crossed the road to join him, his eyes questioning.

  Louis spoke quickly, "We can't go on. There's some sort of trouble they are not telling us about," he said. Henri stared at him for a moment then nodded. Louis felt a surge of relief. "We have to make them go back, Hen."

  There was no time for more. Sieur Angelo arrived. His flame colored stallion was still fresh and bad tempered. It snorted and refused to stand still. It took Angelo a moment to bring it under control. He muttered something inaudible and then faced them. "Well, what's wrong?"

  "We have to go back," Henri said. He spoke as if it was his idea. Grateful, Louis moved closer to his brother adding silent support.

  "No." Angelo said. "You are going home to Chamfort."

  "Won't you at least ask why we need to go back?"

  "It does not matter. My orders are to see you safe to Chamfort." Angelo turned his horse away.

  "Then you must accompany us back to Etrives first, for that is where we are going," said Henri with confidence.

  Angelo brought his horse to a halt. For a moment, all they saw was his back, straight shouldered and ominously rigid. Then he turned. "We are not going back to Etrives."

  "You want us to go alone?"

  Hearing his brother's tone, Louis flinched and opened his mouth, but Sieur Angelo was quicker.

  "No, you damn well won't go alone." He rode forward to face Henri. "You will ride to Chamfort as Sieur Michel instructed."

  Henri was unfazed. "Very well, if you will tell us why Sieur Michel is not here? What business keeps him at Etrives?"

  Sieur Angelo looked uncertain. Then he looked angry. "It is not your concern."

  "Are you sure?" Henri asked quietly, something in his tone made it a threat as much as a question.

  For a heartbeat, Sieur Angelo's face betrayed him, and Louis understood. There had been an argument and Sieur Angelo had lost, he was following orders he did not agree with. "I am doing what Sieur Michel and your brother decided was best," Angelo said.

  "Edouard. What has this to do with him?" Henri snapped.

  Louis saw Sieur Angelo realize what he had done and search for an escape. But it was too late. Henri, who Louis knew to this point had not been particularly bothered and merely humoring him, was now equally engaged in the fight. Angelo, who clearly knew the signs, was watching Henri warily. The Chamfort knights were waiting, uneasily silent. It was suddenly too much for Louis.

  "What happened at Ralmadre?" He didn't even realize the dread that was in his mind until he said the words. He felt Henri's look of surprise, but the question had an instant effect. There was a murmur among the knights. Sieur Angelo made a quick gesture, and they fell silent. He looked grim.

  "We need to keep moving," he sounded almost desperate. It might have been fear, but Angelo de Loristen was not afraid of anyone or anything.

  "Why? What's happening back there that you want us away so badly?" Henri asked.

  Sieur Angelo was silent, searching for an answer. It was clear he was torn; he had not wanted to leave, and he desperately wanted to turn back. If Louis had not been so afraid, he would've felt sorry
for him.

  Louis spoke, "Take us back, please."

  "I can't, the risk is too great."

  "That's ridiculous." Henri snapped. "What danger can we face among fifty Chamfort knights?" He reined his horse round, kicking it to a canter. Sieur Angelo's chestnut stallion caught him in strides. The knight leaned from the saddle to grab Henri's reins. As they came to a halt, Henri was reaching for his sword. Louis pushed his horse between them.

  "Hen, no. That won't help." He looked to Sieur Angelo. "You have to tell us. You must know we won't leave while Edouard and Sieur Michel are in trouble."

  "No one who owed them any loyalty would," Henri snarled.

  Louis would not have dared to say it, but the words had the desired effect. Sieur Angelo rubbed a hand across his face and then straightened. "I'm sorry," he said looking to them both. "We can't go back. Edouard and Sieur Michel asked one thing of me, and I will see it done."

  "They asked you to make sure we were safe?" Henri said impatiently. "Sending fifty knights with us while they face some sort of danger alone at Etrives. That's just stupid."

  Angelo smiled, but there was no humor in it, just weariness. "Danger comes in many guises, Henri."

  "You will explain to me what this danger is." Henri dismounted, dropping his horse's reins and drawing his sword. "We're going nowhere until you do."

  It should have been ridiculous, a boy facing fifty of their father's best knights, but it was not. Louis dismounted and went to stand beside his brother. Sieur Angelo, very tense and pale now, watched them. "If we go back it could make things much worse."

  "How?" Henri asked, sounding uncannily like their father. He received an immediate response.

  "Fifty Chamfort knights, seen in the wrong place at the wrong time, there are many ways that could be awkward."

  "This hedging is only making things worse," said Henri. "We can work enough of it out anyway. Obviously, Edouard has done something, probably something stupid, just tell us what it is and how Sieur Michel intends to fix it and we can decide what to do. Or if you can truly reassure us we will ride on to Chamfort." Only Louis knew that this was a statement of desperation.

  Sieur Angelo did not smile. After a long pause, he looked back to the Chamfort knights. Sieur Rainier seemed about to say something but thought better of it. Louis looked at the familiar faces and felt very alone. He moved closer to Henri. His brother was still holding his sword. After staring down at them for a long time, Sieur Angelo dismounted. He passed his stallion's reins to Sieur Rainier and walked towards them. Louis felt Henri shift and laid a hand on his arm.

  Sieur Angelo walked past them and halted a little way off, waiting for them to join him. When they did, he spoke quietly, so his words did not carry to the watching knights. "I am breaking a confidence to tell you this." He studied them both for a moment. "I don't know it all, but your brother is in trouble and through him, Chamfort may be in trouble. Edouard has known of the difficulties for some time and has said nothing," Angelo sighed. "It seems the Marechal St Andre has been plotting against Etrives. Edouard is caught up in it, but he has done his best to keep Chamfort out of it. Until Ralmadre he had done so."

  "Edouard wouldn't do anything dishonorable, he wouldn't put Chamfort in danger, and he wouldn't betray anyone..." Henri said fiercely.

  "Not intentionally, no. But things can be complicated if you believe in someone and they play you false..." Angelo shrugged. "I don't know what happened." He paused, struggling to find the words. "But you both know your brother, he trusted St Andre, perhaps you can see how it might be possible for him to make a mistake?"

  "Anyone can make a mistake, and you are saying that Edouard was trying to put it right. But something went wrong at Ralmadre." Louis was really scared now. "Was it Edouard's fault?" He heard Henri curse, but he had to say it. He was afraid but he had to know.

  "No," said Angelo and, holding his gaze continued, "I was there, and I can tell you Edouard acted with bravery and honor. Whatever anyone says, always remember that." He sighed. "But the truth can be twisted. The Duke de Etrives had the left wing, he was out matched and no relief was sent. Edouard held command to the left of the center, nearest to Etrives. The Chamfort knights close by him. When no orders came, Edouard went to Etrives aid, we rode with him. His action saved Etrives, but a lot of men died before we reached them."

  "Including the Duke's sons," Louis said, trying to keep his voice steady.

  "Yes."

  "How might that seem Edouard's fault," Henri demanded.

  "There was a rumor that orders were sent, that Edouard's inexperience caused the delay in relieving Etrives."

  "What does a rumor matter?"

  "As long as it remains a rumor claiming inexperience on Edouard's part it harms him but nothing more. However, there are other rumors."

  Henri cursed, ramming his blade into its sheath. "Of a feud between Chamfort and Etrives?"

  "Yes, and St Andre may decide to fuel the rumors." He glanced to the waiting knights. "You see the danger?"

  Louis saw it well enough, but something worried him. "And so Edouard wanted us gone from Etrives so he and Michel could sort it out?"

  "Not exactly. Edouard wanted us all gone, Michel included. I argued that we should all stay, but Michel insisted we leave and that he would deal with it."

  "Does Edouard know this?"

  "No, Michel was to ride out and speak with him today."

  Louis exchanged glances with his twin. "We have to go back."

  "But ..." Angelo started to protest.

  "Why do you think Edouard sent everyone away?" Henri said. He did not wait, answering the question himself as he turned towards the horses. "He intends to confront St Andre."

  "Sword's blood, you're right." Angelo did not argue.

  "And there is every chance Michel will be caught up in it. We must go back." Henri had reached the horses. "Send men ahead to find out where they are. We need not approach the castle. With luck, we can do this quickly without drawing attention."

  "Do what?" Angelo asked. "Have you ever tried to talk your brother out of something?"

  "Michel will be able to deal with Edouard. We will make sure of it," said Henri with certainty.

  Seeing Angelo's face, Louis explained. "Edouard won't have a choice. He can't do anything reckless if we are they there."

  Angelo gave Henry a long hard look. Louis saw him begin to understand something about his twin. Then he nodded once, a senior Chamfort knight accepting orders from a green boy. It made Louis shiver; it was a glimpse of the future, of what Henri might become.

  Sieur Angelo took charge and preparations were made with ruthless efficiency. He dispatched Sieur Rainer and two other knights to scout ahead and discover where Sieur Michel and Edouard might be found. The main body of knights followed, cantering in neat formation back towards Etrives. Louis rode among them, Henri close by. They had not spoken, there was no need, despite the brave words, Louis knew his brother felt the same apprehension he did.

  Chapter 62

  Edouard saw Michel and felt as if the ground dropped had dropped from beneath his feet. It was like a blow, and he almost staggered. Then Raymond followed his gaze and snapped one word. "Marechal."

  St Andre reacted to the urgency in his man's voice with typical discipline. He turned, still holding his blade but shielding it from sight. His posture changed as he saw Michel. Smooth as silk he turned back, his fingers flickered, signing to his men. He sheathed the blade in an easy motion.

  The two holding men Edouard released him. Quickly he moved a few paces away. His hand went to his sword hilt, but he forced himself not to draw. He watched Michel, willing him to stop, to turn back. It had no effect. Michel came on, behind him dark clouds rolled over the hills. Edouard felt a desperate, crushing fear. His only hope was that St Andre did not want Michel involved in this any more than he did.

  St Andre did not speak until Michel was no more than ten paces away, then he nodded greeting. "Sieur Michel, good day. Thi
s is a surprise. You are looking for Edouard?"

  Edouard answered, "I arranged to ride out and meet Sieur Michel. He has news from Chamfort." It was a ridiculous lie. There was no hope that St Andre would be convinced, but at least it gave Michel some measure of warning.

  Answering his prayers, Michel came to a halt. He returned the Marechal's greeting politely. "Yes, we were to ride out together, if you could spare him I would be grateful."

  The silence lasted several heartbeats. Edouard felt every one painfully. Raymond and his men stood at his back. St Andre smiled, apparently relaxed.

  "We have some rather pressing matters to discuss. Edouard will come and find you at Etrives as soon as we are done." He turned with a smile. "Is that not so, Edouard?" He did not ask why Michel had suddenly appeared here, on foot.

  "Of course." Edouard looked to Michel; he tried to send a warning or a plea. "The news from Chamfort will keep. I will be at the castle later." His voice screamed warning at Michel, telling him to leave, but it was only in his head. He was coming to realize that Michel was not here by chance. Gritting his teeth, he cursed Angelo. He took a step towards Michel. The tension at his back increased. He stopped. "I am sorry to have brought you out here for nothing."

  Before Michel could answer, St Andre fingers moved in another sign. The Marechal moved forward like a lion stalking prey. "Don't be ridiculous, Edouard. Sieur Michel is not here by accident." St Andre turned to face him. "Did you plan this, what does he know?" The crack of command, sudden and ominous as the lull before thunder.

  "No! He knows nothing."

  His words made no difference. Raymond's men were already moving towards Michel. Drawing his sword, Edouard blocked their path. He glanced over his shoulder, flinging a desperate word. "Go." And when Michel did not move, "This is not your fight. I don't want you here."

  He charged straight at St Andre's men. At the last moment, he feinted left and his blade took the first man through the throat. He bent to scoop his main gauche from the ground. From a crouch, he stabbed it deep into the next man's gut. The two men following slowed. Raymond drew his blade and joined them.