Besides, Melusine had already gone through so much. Her recent malady proved her vulnerability. And the fact that her own child rejected her must be a terrible ordeal. He’d seen how the brat’s tantrum in the bailey had saddened her.
Aye, Sigefroi would keep quiet and find the answers on his own, or wait until she chose to tell him the truth. Knowing her shrewd and uncompromising character, she must have good reasons to keep secrets from him. Even when, like today, her escapades placed him in a difficult situation.
But if Melusine wasn’t a princess, where did all the riches come from? A more sinister thought entered his mind. What if she truly were King Elinas’ daughter? Didn’t she say her mother’s name was Pressine? Could it be the Pagan queen of the Benedictine’s tale?
And what powers really lay inside Caliburn? Sigefroi touched the bejeweled hilt of the miraculous sword she’d given him. He felt the familiar tingle, as if the blade wanted to reassure him. He couldn’t imagine not wearing that sword. He’d feel exposed and vulnerable carrying any other blade.
Not bothering to look around, Sigefroi tucked the incriminating scroll and the small book under his arm. The scandalized monks didn’t dare stop the irate and armed knight who marched away with the abbey’s archives. After all he was their champion and protector.
Sigefroi barged out of the library, slamming the heavy door behind him.
An inexplicable shiver coursed between his shoulders as he headed for his cell, but he refused to give in to fear. Only weaklings believed in Pagan Fae curses, making excuses for their shortcomings. Whoever she was, Melusine pleased him. She also served his ambitions, and he wanted her near. Soon, he would extract the truth from her, but all in due course. For now, he would bide his time.
* * *
When Melusine returned after sunset, to her surprise, Sigefroi didn’t berate her. As a matter of fact, he seemed very understanding, but this sudden change of heart made her wonder. What game was he playing now? She knew how charming he could be when he put his mind to it. What did he want? This new behavior made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to make of his pondering watchfulness.
Over the next few days, they gathered supplies to start building the new castle and they oversaw the loading of the goods on barges at the pier. Melusine had seen the heavy boats during her escapade and knew how sluggishly they would travel under oar against the current. Still, it would carry the supplies on a smoother ride than ox carts on rutted trails through hilly terrain.
After Sigefroi sent off the barges, Gunter rode ahead with Thierry and the escort to wait for the boats at their destination. They would prepare temporary quarters in Saarburg and unload the barges upon arrival.
Sigefroi and Melusine remained at the abbey a few more days, enjoying the comforts of the Roman city of Trier, and shocking the monks with their nightly love games. By the time they left St Maximin, Melusine had fully recovered from months of apathy. She looked forward to riding through the rolling hills with only Sigefroi for companion. He’d even agreed to let her mount astride.
Laughing like newlyweds, they raced through the woods and along the green slopes fragrant with lily of the valley. The sun glinted off Sigefroi’s mail as they rode on, making plans for the castle they would build. But besides the love she saw in his startling eyes, Melusine detected unusual keenness, as if he watched her every move.
Could he have guessed she was with child again? No, it was too early... but this time around, Sigefroi would enjoy fatherhood, for Melusine’s returning powers told her the baby growing in her womb was a boy.
Chapter Eleven
The new castle of Saarburg, two years later, spring of 966
In the festive bailey, Melusine directed the servants carrying baskets of fresh lettuce and eggs to the kitchen. Looking toward the stables, she spotted her maid in an intimate embrace with Thierry in the doorway.
“Alyx!”
Thierry’s head came up. He grinned and let go of Alyx then quickly ducked into the stables. Alyx blushed as she walked toward Melusine and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She flashed a radiant smile and smoothed a strand of blond hair. “M’lady?”
Melusine had to force a serious tone. “You are spending too much time with this gallant of yours. Today of all days, leave the boy alone! Or I’ll tell Lord Sigefroi to give him more chores.”
Alyx curtsied. “Aye, m’lady. What can I do for you?”
The lass now looked like a grown woman, and Melusine suspected a baby grew in her belly. The two lovers would have to be married soon. The Church would frown at a child out of wedlock in Sigefroi’s castle. They made a cute couple, though. Thierry had developed into somewhat of a hot head, but Alyx would temper his excesses with common sense and reason.
“Young Thierry better straighten up before the emperor arrives.” Melusine remembered Sigefroi mentioning how strict Otto could be regarding neat appearance and etiquette. “The great man frowns upon disheveled subjects, especially on such an important day.”
Alyx blushed some more. “Sorry, m’lady.”
“Right now, I need you at the nursery with my babes.” Melusine said my babes with pride.
She smiled as she watched Alyx hurry toward the keep. She considered herself blessed. Little Henri already walked and played with the castle children. Frederick, only two months old, was Melusine’s greatest joy. Of course, her oldest and only daughter, Liutgarde, still threw tantrums at her very sight, so she remained away at Luxembourg castle, where a nun saw to her education. That child hated her, and Melusine knew she always would.
“Gunter,” Melusine called as she saw the brawny knight inspecting a guard’s red and white uniform. “Did you check the cellar for Otto’s favorite wine?”
Gunter straightened his green silk tunic as he glanced up and grinned. “Aye, m’lady. I picked the perfect wine for today’s feast. It will be just ripe to go with the lamb and the honey cooked apples.”
“Thank you, old friend.” Now, Melusine needed to get dressed before the emperor arrived.
As she gazed up, she saw Sigefroi atop the battlement, surveying the road. He fidgeted slightly as if he were nervous. Of course only Melusine could detect it.
As if he’d sensed her eyes on him, Sigefroi turned and looked down at her from afar. Melusine melted under his stare. Sigefroi had been wonderful of late. Never again had he challenged her dreaded Wednesdays, even when Melusine had grown heavy and close to birthing, and she loved him for it. He seemed more attentive to her needs and often asked for her advice.
Only once in a while did she catch him watching her, like now, a serious expression on his face. Did he suspect something of her secret? She fervently hoped he didn’t, but if he did, he never mentioned anything to her, and she saw no other sign of it.
* * *
From the battlement, Sigefroi watched Melusine enter the keep. He turned toward the road as the convoy of his most important guests slowly ascended the hill.
Around him, the white and red pennants of Luxembourg hung from the ramparts, fluttering in the light spring breeze along with the blue and white imperial banners. Battle horns announced the noble visitors come to perform the knighting ceremony. Although the emperor would only stay the day, it was the first time Sigefroi hosted his illustrious friend. Would everything be to Otto’s refined taste?
More familiar with the battlefield than with the niceties of high society, Sigefroi had relied on Melusine to supervise the preparations for the festivities. She had proven a great organizer. This marvelous woman of his kept his castles and domains well supplied and in good working order. She gave everyone a task, and even the most vindictive men contributed with enthusiasm whenever she asked. Sigefroi congratulated himself for such an efficient wife.
Only one thought marred his bliss. Last week, a merchant boat reported an ondine in the Saar River. Sigefroi didn’t believe in ondines, but from the description, he suspected that Melusine might have been the woman bathing nude in the chilly waters. The
sighting happened on the first Wednesday of the month, when his wife should have been praying to the Virgin Mary.
Although Sigefroi didn’t quite believe Melusine’s story about her monthly devotions, he couldn’t come up with a better explanation. Briefly he had her followed, but she had eluded his best spies.
In time, Sigefroi had resigned himself to the fact that his wife harbored a secret and he left it at that. If he pushed the issue, he might discover she wasn’t fit for him, and he couldn’t afford to lose the best asset of his financial, political and emotional life.
In three short years, Melusine had become indispensable to his holdings and to his bed. So what, if she wasn’t exactly who she claimed. She fulfilled all his needs and had carried his heirs.
As Sigefroi climbed down the stairs into the bailey to meet the first guests at the gate, he waved to Thierry. Dressed in a white tunic, the squire made his way to the area delimited by ribbons and flowers. Now nineteen, the lad had bloomed into a strong young man and Sigefroi had declared him fit for battle. “Are you ready?”
Thierry grinned. “Aye, but the smell from the kitchen is making me hungry. I spent the night in prayers, and didn’t eat for two days... I even abstained from my lover’s bed.”
Sigefroi chuckled. Thierry was courting Melusine’s maidservant, and reports of their noisy lovemaking in the stables delighted the men. “It’s not every day Emperor Otto himself bestows knighthood upon our deserving young nobles. Better be on your best behavior. Now be on your way.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
When the horns sounded again from the battlement, all activity in the bailey slowed and all eyes turned to the open castle gate.
At the head of the group of riders entering the fortress, Sigefroi recognized his bishop brother, Adalberon. At his side, Emperor Otto rode a magnificent white stallion harnessed in gold and silver. The Imperial guard in blue and white surcoats flanked the procession, and many colorful guests rode sedately behind the two eminent personages.
* * *
Melusine walked out of the keep, wearing a peach satin gown cinched at the waist by a heavy silver belt hanging down the front. A gay fanfare of discordant horns announced the start of the ceremony. Fortunately, the mass would be performed in the fencing yard, turned into holy ground for the circumstance. So, Melusine wouldn’t have to get close to any baptismal font or other basin of holy water.
She had easily evaded the baptisms of her last two children, pretending to be too weak to attend and still in childbed. Now that her Fae powers had fully returned from the incident at Liutgarde’s baptism, Melusine intended to stay away from holy water at all cost.
Recovered from Frederick’s birth, she now felt whole and wonderful. She joined the first rank where benches had been set for the most noble guests, as it might be a long ceremony. The arrangement reminded her of her wedding three years past. It felt like so long ago.
As she sat, Sigefroi nodded and smiled his approval. “I see your favorite gowns fit you again. It might be time to get you with child again, my sweet.”
Melusine emitted a soft laugh. Not only had she regained her svelte figure, but she felt safe and loved. She turned and waved from a distance to Alyx who stood several rows behind, holding little Henri’s hand while carrying the newborn, Frederick.
The crowd hushed when the emperor, dressed in a dark blue silk robe and wearing a sable cloak, walked to his imposing chair, set to the side of the altar. When the powerful man’s green gaze stopped on Melusine, he smiled with white teeth under a curly blond beard.
Melusine shivered at the predatory grin and the cruel glint of his eyes.
The emperor then took his seat, and a young body servant rushed to arrange his blond ringlets over the collar of the fur cloak.
The four young men to be knighted walked solemnly through the central aisle and came to stand in front of the altar. They went down on one knee, heads bowed.
Emperor Otto motioned to Sigefroi’s brother. Adalberon, in purple robes, nodded then faced the faithful, extended his arms, and enunciated a Latin litany. Alternately facing the four cardinal points, Adalberon closed his eyes, lifted his gaze to the heavens, and genuflected in rhythm with the words lost in the spring breeze.
After the bishop genuflected for the hundredth time, he nodded to the emperor who now rose and pulled his ceremonial sword from the golden scabbard.
“By the holy powers Pope John XIII invested in me,” Otto scanned the audience like a skilled orator, “I declare these young men worthy of knighthood. May God guide their swords in defense of Christendom, the empire, and their liege. May God make them strong and fair, respectful of their betters, and magnanimous to their inferiors.”
After presenting the blade to Adalberon, who anointed it with holy oil and blessed it with the sign of the cross, emperor Otto walked to the first young man kneeling in front of the altar. It was Thierry.
Holding the hilt with both hands, the emperor brought the sword one inch from his own nose then gently, mumbling Latin words, tapped the lad’s left shoulder with the flat of the blade. After a pause, he tapped the right shoulder, then the top of Thierry’s head.
Melusine could see the pride in the young man’s bearing. Never had Thierry looked so radiant. After the emperor repeated the symbolic ritual for each of the benighted, he called his manservant who went to a coffer behind the emperor’s chair and retrieved four swords in silver scabbards then carried them to his master, holding them on both extended arms.
Otto took one of the offered swords from the man then went to Thierry
“Rise, Knight Thierry.” The emperor hooked the sword to the young man’s empty baldric. Then he offered his ring for the boy to kiss in sign of fealty. He repeated the same ceremonial for the three other knights.
When Otto returned to his seat, the crowd cheered the new benighted.
Finally, the faithful approached the altar in orderly ranks to partake of the communion, the new knights first, then the assembled nobles. Melusine mentally said a prayer to the Goddess, and left the congregation unnoticed in the general movement of the guests toward the altar and back.
* * *
Although it was still early spring, Melusine had planned the feast outdoors. The hall could hold hundreds, but not thousands. Of course, she’d asked the Goddess to provide balmy weather. From the kitchen, scullions and servants hurried, carrying the best foods the domains of Luxembourg and Saarburg had to offer.
At the U-shaped high table, Melusine and Sigefroi sat in the middle, Emperor Otto at Sigefroi’s right and Bishop Adalberon at Melusine’s left. Further down the table, Gunter beamed when the guests complimented the wine as they sampled removes of lamb and white beans, pork and cooked apples, carrots in red wine sauce, fresh fish from the river and spring greens.
Entertainers had come by boat and acrobats and contortionists as well as dwarfs juggled and danced to the rhythmic melody of reed flutes and tambourines.
A gypsy fortune teller in crimson veils curtsied in front of Melusine. “Would you like your fortune told, my lady?”
“Nay.” Melusine paled at the very thought. She couldn’t risk having a gifted Gypsy divulge her darkest secret, especially in such dangerous company. “Find another who will enjoy it more.”
As the girl moved closer, Melusine glanced to Sigefroi for help, knowing he did not believe in supernatural powers. On her left, Bishop Adalberon frowned, his eyes reduced to slits as he studied the fortune teller.
Inspired by the bishop’s bigotry, Melusine said, “A good Christian does not dabble in such things.”
Sigefroi shrugged and smiled at the fortune teller. “My wife is a mysterious creature. She has many secrets. Why don’t you tell me about her?”
Melusine’s heart stumbled in her chest. What game was Sigefroi playing now? “My lord, I must protest.”
On the other side of Sigefroi, Emperor Otto leaned over the table, watching Melusine intently, a lurid smile on his rubicund face. “Do I have to
order you myself, fair lady? Should I remind you that open disobedience to the emperor is punishable by a swift beheading?”
Even Adalberon cast down his gaze at the emperor’s comment, surrendering to his cruel authority.
Defeated, Melusine extended a trembling hand.
The Gypsy girl took it and stared as if through it for a while. Her eyes veiled and she whispered softly for Melusine alone, using an ancient trick so others could not hear. “An old soul, you are, my lady... and you know from whence you come.” She dropped her hand but kept her voice to a whisper. “But do not be so bold as to tempt fate. Beware those who love you… that they do not betray or disappoint you.”
An icy sluice drenched Melusine, although she didn’t let it show. Had she been negligent? Too comfortable in her life among mortals? Had she tempted fate and would pay for it?
“So, tell us, girl!” Otto blurted out, and pounded the table.
The girl curtsied respectfully to the emperor then straightened and faced Sigefroi. “You are fortunate, m’lord to have such a good wife. She will bear you many children and keep your bed warm and your estates thriving.” She paused and her face froze into an unreadable mask. “But never betray her, or your fortune will wither and your life fall into despair.”
The closest guests fell silent and Melusine felt the stilling of the breeze. Her heart paused in her chest, waiting.
Sigefroi gave a raucous laugh. “Who are you to tell me what to do with my wife?”
Sudden fear flashed in the dark Gypsy eyes, and the girl flew away, her crimson veils floating behind her. Sigefroi and Otto laughed and toasted her departure with wine.
Curse of the Lost Isle Special Edition Page 58