Curse of the Lost Isle Special Edition

by Vijaya Schartz

  Soon Bishop Adalberon excused himself. “This is more excitement than a prelate should experience in an entire life. I will return to my tent and pray for my sins. I expect to see all of you at morning mass.”

  After Adalberon left the table, Sigefroi turned to Melusine and Frederick. “I wish he would loosen up. It’s not as if he’d earned his position through sainthood. He wasn’t even religious until our father purchased the Bishopric of Metz for him.”

  Frederick sighed. “Aye, he changed a lot in the last few years. He has strong ideas about reforming and regulating the monasteries. He started a crusade against corruption and complacency among the clergy.”

  By the light of bright torches, the festivities continued late into the night, with an abundance of wine, ballads, and dances, to the melancholy strings of the lute.

  Gunter had left the high table, but Melusine spotted him at the far end of the hall, in romantic conversation with a lovely lady. The woman’s noble husband had passed out on the tablecloth and snored from too much wine, leaving his turtledove easy prey for the swarthy knight.

  Restless at sitting all this time, Melusine glanced sideways at Sigefroi, wondering how long she’d have to wait to savor the pleasures of his hard body. He caught her look and smiled devilishly, his liquid amber eyes full of promise.

  After the last of the entertainment, Duke Frederick rose. “You’ll have to excuse me now. I must leave at dawn for the return journey.”

  Sigefroi rose to give Frederick a brotherly hug. The easy love between the two men filled Melusine with longing for her sisters.

  Frederick then kissed Melusine’s hand. “Have a wonderful night, young lady.” He winked. “If my brother’s reputation holds true, you should have a lovely time of it.”

  Frederick chuckled and walked away, waving as if he knew they both stared at his retreating back.

  Heat crept up Melusine’s cheeks. Even the most charming men could sometimes lack delicacy. In the hall, the revelry now escalated. Soon, as the custom allowed, the drunken men would defy all decency. Gunter was nowhere to be seen, neither was his lovely turtledove, although the abandoned husband still snored soundly on the table.

  Sigefroi grinned. “Well? Shall we follow Frederick’s advice? I ordered a fire in our chamber and a ewer of wine. Our bed should be pleasantly warm by now.”

  “I thought you would never ask, my lord.” Melusine wondered whether her radiant smile betrayed the sensual thoughts that made her body tingle with anticipation.

  They made their way to Sigefroi’s chamber under the hooting calls of a few young nobles who noticed their escape. Never in her life had Melusine felt so right about anything. Gone was the anguish, the frustration, the bitterness that had plagued her since the curse. She now felt loved and accepted. She had a place in society.

  The Goddess had blessed Melusine with a capable husband, a promising house, and the opportunity to serve a worthy cause, all beyond her expectations. But most of all, Melusine had proven her mastery by fulfilling her mission so far. Tonight, in Sigefroi’s furs, she would savor the fruit of her remarkable success.

  Chapter Eight

  Six moons later - Michaelmas Day, September 963

  Afternoon sunlight flooded the chartroom through the western window on the second floor of the new castle. Serene and content, Melusine shifted in the chair, one arm instinctively protecting her belly.

  She glanced up at Sigefroi across the parchment rolled out on the table. “Now that the walls around the village are completed, I think we should start on the drawbridge.”

  “Aye, something we can finish before rain, fog, and snow keep us indoors. The towers will have to wait until spring.” Sigefroi rarely wore his mail inside the fort anymore but favored white tunics embroidered with the red lion of Luxembourg. Melusine was proud of the pattern. Despite the flatness imposed by the fabric, the beast looked fierce, almost alive and breathing on Sigefroi’s chest.

  “This winter we could dig the tunnels.” Melusine’s heart beat faster. She couldn’t help the eagerness in her voice. The secret passages would mean multiple exits for her monthly flights, and less chances to be discovered.

  Sigefroi rubbed a smooth chin. “A long siege could deplete our food supplies. The main fields lie far outside the walls.”

  “True enough. So, the underground passages should run in different directions.” Pleased that he followed the desired reasoning, Melusine indicated several points on the map. “At the bottom of the cliff by the river, toward the plateau with a shaft up to the village, and from the village far into open country, behind potential enemy lines.”

  While Sigefroi studied the chart, Melusine pretended to survey the bailey through the open window. Her keen interest in the question at hand might raise suspicion.

  From the bailey, the happy chirping of sparrows filtered in through the now familiar sounds of construction, weapon practice, loud commands, and the creaking of loaded carts. The swallows gathered in the linden tree before their annual flight south.

  She feared it might upset her husband to think she valued her days of freedom above him. He probably considered her request as a whim. How could he suspect that his destiny and hers, maybe even their lives, depended on such a trivial matter?

  Sigefroi lifted his gaze. “Only a handful of loyal men should know about these passages, lest our last resort escape be leaked to a possible enemy. Many people flock to Luxembourg nowadays. Not all can be trusted.”

  “I agree.” Melusine looked away. How could Sigefroi trust her, with all the secrets she kept from him? “There could be underground vaults as well, a safe place to keep the treasury. The sandstone makes it easy to carve an entire network of rooms and passageways.”

  “And in the spring, we can use the stone excavated from the tunnels to build the watchtowers and the new battlements.”

  Melusine bent over the open trunk of rolled parchments at her feet. She pulled out another chart where she had sketched the details of the complicated mechanism of weights, ropes, and pulleys that would set the new draw-bridge in motion.

  Sigefroi helped her unroll and spread the scroll then turned it to get a better look. He studied the sophisticated drawing for a moment. “How you concocted this infernal piece of machinery on your own, I don’t know, but I have to admit it is the most ingenious contrivance ever imagined.”

  Of course, Melusine couldn’t tell him where she’d learned about castle defenses and war machines. How could she explain such familiarity with Trojan and Roman warfare from a former life. As a Christian, Sigefroi believed he only lived once. How she wished to banish all secrets between them! Unfortunately, Melusine couldn’t share with him her very nature.

  She allowed a regretful smile to touch her lips. “I studied Roman machines in my youth. A simple matter of logic when you put your mind to it, my lord. Just a little improvement on ancient archetypes.”

  “You are too modest, sweet wife.” Sigefroi’s happy grin made the amber in his eyes twinkle.

  At a sharp kick from her unborn child, a surprised cry escaped her lips. Melusine flinched.

  Sigefroi rushed to her side, a worried look on his stern face. “Are you well?”

  “Aye, my lord.” She laughed. “It’s just a kick.” Taking his strong hand in hers, she laid it on the side of her belly and marveled at the warmth of his touch through the stretched blue gown. The baby kicked again.

  The awe on Sigefroi’s face turned to fatherly pride. “I wager it’s a son. He has a mighty foot.”

  Melusine only smiled. She didn’t have the heart to rob him of his hopes. Noblemen wanted sons and Sigefroi was no different.

  She knew a little girl grew in her womb, but telling anyone would bring suspicion upon her. Only devils and saints could foretell the future with any accuracy. She didn’t care to find out in which category the good people of Luxembourg would cast her, given a chance.

  Rising from the chair, Melusine banished a shiver of unease to declare in a cheery tone, �
��The afternoon sun is still warm for the season. Shall we take a walk on the ramparts?”

  “Anything to please the mother of my future heir.” Sigefroi took her widened waist to lead her out of the chartroom. “I shall call him Henri. Henri of Luxembourg. What do you think?”

  “But what if our child is a baby girl, my lord? What name shall we give her? There are no guarantees of a son.”

  “It will be a boy.” The finality in Sigefroi’s tone forbade any further comment.

  Melusine smiled to hide her unease. Sigefroi would be disappointed by a daughter. “Will you make your first son your only heir, then? This prosperous domain you are building one town at a time should not be divided among many children as the custom demands. It destroyed the might of your father’s house.”

  Sigefroi eyed her curiously. “A very cunning thought, my lady. That’s what Emperor Otto plans on doing with his first son as well. He may even have him crowned by the Pope as a child, to avoid any contest.”

  They crossed the solarium where young girls and ladies stopped chatting at the sight of their lord. Melusine had spent long hours with them in the past months, decorating the guards’ uniforms with the coat of arms, teaching them to sew and embroider new winter surcoats for the men.

  Melusine nodded at the familiar faces smiling above their needlework. She now truly belonged among her people in the House of Luxembourg. A comfortable life, surrounded by those she loved, in the new residence she had designed and built.

  Then there were the dreaded Wednesdays...

  Her arm on Sigefroi’s, she passed the treasury room, locked and guarded at all times, then several private chambers destined to house occasional noble guests. Watching her steps, Melusine followed Sigefroi down a narrow flight of stone stairs.

  When they reached the knights’ hall, light flooded the vast room. It stood almost empty at this time of day, although a small army now resided there. The soldiers trained hard, participated in the daily chores, and helped in the construction work, leaving little time for idleness.

  Melusine glanced up with pride at the mixture of German and Roman architecture. She had designed with precision the wide rounded arches of the vaulted ceiling and the two rows of tall columns that supported the edifice. Through the line of high windows on each side, sun rays played on the flagstone.

  With a monumental fireplace at each end, the long hall made a grand place for gatherings and formal celebrations. At one extremity, an entire room was reserved to the armory. The other end opened upon the old Roman villa, transformed into a vast kitchen.

  When Melusine and Sigefroi stepped out into the bailey, a young uniformed guard snapped to attention. In his eagerness, he bumped into children with sticks, who prodded protesting pigs and cattle toward the shed that served as a temporary slaughterhouse. The sickening smell of fresh blood and guts made Melusine’s stomach lurch. She stifled a moan.

  “Are you all right?” Sigefroi’s concern warmed her.

  “Aye.” She forced a smile for him. “Being with child makes me squeamish.” Even the squeals of the beasts being butchered bothered her more than usual, but she closed her mind to the disturbing sounds as they walked away from it.

  Sigefroi squeezed her hand. “There will be plenty of food for the winter. The meats will be smoked or salted for the larder, blood sausage prepared, livers, kidneys and hearts set in lard and preserved in clay pots.”

  Although familiar with the process, Melusine had never prepared for the winter on such a large scale. “I will ask the cooks to prepare the heads, tongues, and tripes of the animals and serve them at Sunday’s feast after mass.”

  Next week, they would slaughter most of the drakes and ganders, cook them, and preserve them in lard. She observed the orderly row of serfs unloading baskets of golden grapes into huge wooden vats. Tomorrow, they would trample the fruit to make the new wine.

  “The year’s wine must be stored as well.”

  Sigefroi nodded. “After paying the food tax to my brother Frederic of High Lorraine, there will be plenty left to feed everyone for many months.”

  Baskets of apples on a cart spread their sweat smell. Melusine hoped there would be enough of the fresh green fruit from the old orchard to last the winter. The newly planted trees would take several years to produce. But since the fields had brought a bountiful crop, they wouldn’t lack wheat and oats.

  The smell of eel from the smoking shed whetted Melusine’s appetite. Despite morning sickness, she ate five meals a day, and still felt ravenous most of the time.

  Sigefroi supported her to climb the stairs to the ramparts. “Just like this place, you are blossoming, my wife.”

  “Aye. You like it?” Her feeding frenzy and round belly made her plump, just the way that appealed to men these days.

  “You look irresistible.” Sigefroi playfully kissed her neck. “I’ll have to keep you with child at all times. It suits you.”

  “You think so? I feel good, too.” She breathed deeply as they reached the rampart walk over the main gate.

  Being with child was a wonderful experience. Melusine didn’t mind at all that it was an essential part of her mission to the Great Goddess. Her hand rested on Sigefroi’s arm as they gazed toward the village, across the gorge, on the plateau.

  The panorama from the ramparts had changed in the past months. Recently harvested fields and young vineyards now graced the surrounding hills. Huts, houses, and working sheds spilled outside the town walls and at the base of the cliff, along the river below. The sun’s reflection upon the water reminded Melusine that she must leave at sunset.

  As he studied her, Sigefroi’s expression turned serious. The western sun set his leonine mane aflame. “I have a favor to ask, my lady.”

  Melusine shivered despite the warm afternoon. “What kind of favor?”

  Sigefroi surveyed the ramparts, as if to make sure they couldn’t be heard. “Now that you are with child, I want you to cease your monthly escapades.”

  The blood drained from Melusine’s face and a fist gripped her heart. She choked on the words. “You want me to what?” A trickle of cold sweat slid between her breasts under the blue gown.

  Sigefroi considered her coolly, but Melusine could feel cold fire behind his composure. “I’ve indulged your fancy long enough, dear wife. My heir growing in your womb must not be weakened or endangered by such childish whims. I want him safe in the castle at all times.”

  This couldn’t be. If her secret were discovered, Melusine would lose everything, maybe even her life and the life of her child. Sigefroi would lose his lands, and his descendants would be cursed for nine generations. She couldn’t let that happen.

  As panic settled in, Melusine breathed faster. “My lord, do I need to remind you of your oath?”

  Sigefroi scoffed. “Obtained under duress if I recall correctly.”

  “You vowed nevertheless.” She groped for the right words. “My lord, a knight never betrays his word.”

  “And as a knight, I’m ashamed for giving in to your ruthless blackmail.”

  Dear Goddess, she had to think fast, or his new attitude would bring disaster to everyone involved, including the good people of Luxembourg. “Are you ready to give up Caliburn, then?”

  “In your condition, I doubt that you can take it from me. I am the lord of this castle, and I order you to behave like a responsible wife, not a spoiled maiden.” He stared straight into her eyes. “I forbid you to leave.”

  “You forbid me?” Shocked by his sudden show of authority, Melusine didn’t attempt to hide her outrage. “Lord Husband, I have never taken orders from anyone.” She’d almost said from a mortal, but stopped the word before it passed her lips. That, too, was dangerous knowledge. “And certainly I will not obey a knight who breaks a sacred pledge. You can’t prevent me from leaving at sunset.”

  “Even if I lock you up under guard? Are you insinuating you know witchcraft?”

  Paralyzed in the face of such a perilous accusation, Melusine on
ly stared at her husband. “If you insist on this, I’ll refuse to share your bed.”

  “Do not fear.” His words sounded more like a threat than reassurance. “I can make you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Despite her dread, Melusine forced herself to laugh. For his sake as well as hers, she had to win this argument, and to win she must keep a cool head.

  His tone remained daunting. “Do not try my patience.”

  “I warned you of what will happen if you don’t keep your promise. We’ll be lost to each other forever.” Melusine didn’t dare enunciate the full extent of the curse, but it made her shudder inside.

  “You don’t really believe such tales, do you?” He watched her intently. “No Christian would.”

  “But God will punish a knight for not keeping his word.”

  As he stood there, cold and unmoved, icy ribbons of fear slid across her skin.

  “Aren’t we happy the way we are now?” she heard herself plead. “What more do you need?”

  “Happy?” His wry tone cut deeper than his wrath. “How can I be happy, not knowing where you are for an entire day each month? I do not care for that feeling.”

  “But it has nothing to do with us. You know I love you and would never betray you.”

  “I know that!” His palm slammed the flat rock of the rampart ledge. “But I want my wife and child to remain within these walls. I can’t see to your safety outside the castle without an escort.”

  When he paused, she said, “I do not need protection.”

  Worry etched the hard lines of his face. “I heard today that an ondine was sighted in the river a month past... an evil omen. I fear for your life and that of our future son.”

  Dear Goddess, so that’s what it was all about? How could she have been so careless as to be seen? Melusine sighed in an attempt to ease the pressure building in her chest. “Perhaps I carry a daughter.”

  “Nonsense. Since when are you an oracle?”

  Fear pushed her to argue. “Oh! And I reckon you are?”