All's Fair in Love and War: Four Enemies-to-Lovers Medieval Romances

by Claire Delacroix

  “Tulley summoned him from the Holy Land,” Melissande supplied.

  Gaultier’s eyes widened. “Then perhaps Jerome’s ally was Tulley!”

  “Nay!”

  “Think of it, my lady. Your family has held Annossy for generations and are much respected in the region. And since your father’s demise, Tulley has held Annossy’s seal. Should Tulley wish to grant the holding to another, there would have been a hue and cry of the injustice of his choice. He could not so deny tradition, not without protest within his demesne.” He tapped a fingertip upon the table. “So, he saw you wed to his choice to govern both Annossy and Sayerne. I fear this to be a scheme, my lady, one which will not end well for you or Annossy.”

  “Nay!” Melissande protested. “Tulley would not so betray me.”

  But would he not? She was not so certain of her overlord’s support as she would like to be.

  “Tulley will see his own advantage defended at any price,” Gaultier insisted. “He said as much to me when he dispatched me here.” He fell silent and took a deep breath. “To be sure, my lady, I feared that he had a scheme even then. Tulley would not share the details, but told me that my tenure at Annossy would not be a long one.”

  Melissande sat down then, recalling that Tulley had sent word to Quinn in the East. That must have been around the same time that Gaultier had been sent to her. That could only mean that the Captain of the Guard had been sent to protect the prize intended for Quinn upon his return.

  “I see that you are startled, my lady, and I apologize for any responsibility for that on my part. Tulley bade me pledge not to tell you as much, and truly, it was simple to make such a vow when I had never met you or been to Annossy.” He bowed his head. “But in my time here, I have come to respect you greatly as Lady d’Annossy and to feel great fondness for this holding.” He lifted his gaze to hers and the heat in his gaze made Melissande swallow. “I would pledge my blade to you and you alone, my lady, and remain your loyal knight regardless of what Lord de Tulley—or even your lord husband—commands.”

  Although Melissande was touched by his words, she shook her head. “You must not so betray your own word, Gaultier,” she said. “You have vowed to serve Tulley and my lord husband. Do not make a pledge that might compel you to break word with either of them.” She managed to smile. “I, too, serve my lord husband.”

  “But should you, my lady?” Gaultier whispered. “Or does your passion for duty only lead you along the path that will serve them both best?”

  “I must do my duty, Gaultier, as must you.”

  He shook his head, discontent. “You did not see them last night,” he whispered. “His companions separated and went through all the keep, as if by design. Do you think it a coincidence that they all should arrive at the same time? It is as if they had a scheme. That dark-haired one, Amaury, was in the inventory and the stores, counting and assessing. If he could have gained access to the treasury, he would have tallied it all. I would wager that he could put a value upon all within these walls within a denier or two. He spoke to Louis as if to make an alliance with him. The other one, the closer companion, he was in the kitchens, talking to all the servants. He made friends with cook and saucier, and with your maid, my lady.”

  “Bayard,” she whispered.

  “He would either turn her against you or use her as his spy. No doubt she had tales to share with you this morn as a result of that conversation.”

  Melissande thought of Berthe’s confession of admiration for Bayard—and her questions about them living at Sayerne. Her heart chilled.

  “They are men of war, my lady, and they seek to learn your every weakness, so that when they attack, you have no chance to defend yourself.”

  “But why would my lord husband attack me?”

  “To gain your prize. The foreign one—Niall, I think is his name—was in the armory. He reviewed the guard and their weapons, and spoke with the smith for a long time. The tall one, Lothair, walked the perimeter of the walls. He spoke to those in the village, apparently befriending them and advising them about the pledge of fealty, but he gathered tidings as well. And I thought it was all for naught, for the lord had retired to the solar with you.” Gaultier’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped to a hiss. “But then he returned to the hall alone, my lady, and dismissed all but his comrades. They conferred together for long hours, whispering around the board, surrendering all they had learned to him that he might best create his plan.”

  It was true. Melissande had not expected Quinn to leave the solar.

  Her mouth went dry that he had come to their bed so late that she had not heard him. She suspected that if she had not been so willing, she might have been seduced all the same. Tulley had set a price upon Sayerne of an heir, after all.

  Gaultier pushed his hand through his hair. “And then this morning, he and all his fellows ride out to the mill, while we are forbidden to depart for any reason. I cannot even lead a hunt to ensure that there is meat at the board this night!” He stepped toward her, eyes blazing. “Why does he so fear your departure from your own abode, my lady? You are as good as a captive here, and I would know why. Does he fear you will deny him?”

  “I cannot. We are wed and Tulley ensured the match was consummated.” Melissande shook her head. “But the worst I might do is flee to Tulley, and you already say they are in league.”

  “He is Jerome’s son, my lady. What if he means to cheat Tulley?”

  “How?”

  “I cannot say. Perhaps he has ambitions for all of Tulley.” Gaultier wagged a finger at her. “And if there is any soul in this realm sufficiently clever to see the truth of his ambition, it would be you, my lady. Were I such a villain, I would see you confined as well.” He took a deep breath as Melissande struggled with these assertions.

  As much as she might have expected otherwise, she was inclined to take Quinn’s side.

  Was she a fool to trust him? Or were her instincts correct?

  “I should watch my surroundings in your place, my lady,” Gaultier said grimly. “I shall guard your person when I can, but in the solar, you must defend yourself.”

  “What is this?” Melissande asked in confusion.

  “If you died, my lady, Annossy would remain your husband’s holding and he would be free to wed whosoever he chose.” He lifted a dark brow, his eyes gleaming. “Perhaps a man held so high in Tulley’s favor might even wed Tulley’s niece.”

  And upon Tulley’s demise, the entire holding would fall to that man’s hand.

  Surely it could not be so.

  Melissande felt suddenly cold. She forced herself to stand and to speak calmly. “I thank you for your counsel, Gaultier, and would suggest that you ensure the gates are kept closed, as instructed by my lord husband.”

  “Aye, my lady,” he said and bowed before her. He placed a sheathed dagger on the table then and swallowed. “If you will permit me to grant you a small token of my esteem, my lady. This is a fine small blade, sharpened well. If you would keep it upon your person, I should be relieved.”

  Melissande eyed the weapon, which had a jeweled scabbard. The entirety of it was less than the length of her hand. “It is too rich...” she began to protest but he interrupted her.

  “Of greater import, it was a gift from my aunt when my uncle bestowed my spurs and is a lady’s blade,” Gaultier said, smiling slightly in reminiscence. “She bade me surrender it to a lady I admired beyond all others, and said that it would serve the recipient well.”

  “I cannot accept such a gift, Gaultier. I am wedded.”

  “And I am fearful. Accept the loan of it, my lady, if you will not take it outright.”

  Melissande eyed the blade. In truth, she was troubled by Gaultier’s confession and she carried only a small eating blade which was not very sharp. She knew she should not accept the token, but she appreciated that Gaultier showed such concern for her welfare.

  He had pledged his service to her first, after all, and this choice was
a reflection of that.

  “I thank you, Gaultier,” she said and took the blade, liking the weight of it in her hand. It was small enough that she could bind it to her garter by day, and hide it in the bed by night. “I will return it to you when all is well.”

  Quinn rode with Amaury beside him, having inviting his friend to share his observations and thoughts about Annossy and its administration. It was another fine clear day, though the wind had a bite. The path to the mill wound uphill from the gates of Annossy, away from the village and the fields.

  “An interesting choice of site,” Amaury said as they left the keep behind.

  “Why would they choose such a distant location for the mill?” Quinn asked. “I had thought it would be much closer to the keep.” Sayerne’s mill was in the village itself.

  “I would, as well,” Amaury agreed. “I will guess that the river flows faster and more reliably where the mill is located.”

  “The stream that flows into Annossy’s moat and around the village is on flatter ground,” Quinn said, thinking of the one at Sayerne. “And it might freeze during some winters.”

  “Aye, if the ice is not broken. On the other hand, the land might be too rocky and the site of the mill too far from the main road to make a good location for the keep.” Amaury shrugged. “If naught else, the placement of the mill at such a distance hints that the valley has been free of brigands in the past.”

  “True enough,” Quinn said. He studied the forest as they went, noting how the path from keep to mill was wide enough for a cart. The trees grew close to the road, and their growth was dense, leaving the forest full of shadows. He glanced back and was glad the road was straight, at least. A party would be able to see trouble along its length, but not to anticipate bandits hidden in the forest close beside the road. “I think I will have the way widened in the summer,” he said. “If the trees were cut back for even three paces on either side, the road would be safer.”

  “And there would be firewood aplenty,” Amaury agreed.

  “How would you see it done?” Quinn asked.

  Amaury pursed his lips. “It is a good length of road and will require a fair measure of labor. I would wish for the villeins to see the merit of the task and undertake it willingly.”

  “Aye,” Quinn agreed. “I expect it would be best to wait until the crops were planted in the spring and the fields tilled.”

  “Indeed. Then I would declare my desire to see the way widened and explain that it is for the safety of all, and invite those villeins who help in the endeavor to keep a share of the wood.” Amaury nodded. “I would keep perhaps a third of it, for construction, repairs and firewood in the keep, then let them share the rest.” He gave Quinn a nod. “With winters this cold, I would wager that they will be glad of such a store of fuel.”

  “Where would they get it now?” Quinn asked.

  “They must forage for dead wood in the forest. The new wood will have to be left to dry for a year or two, but it will be welcome, all the same.”

  Quinn nodded agreement.

  “It is good to verify tradition in a holding that is unfamiliar,” Amaury advised. “Ask before you act. People can have curious customs, and tend to be most offended when they are not respected, even if it is inadvertent.”

  “You speak aright. I will ask Louis for his counsel.”

  Amaury gave him a quelling glance. “You have a closer source of local custom than that,” he said and Quinn realized he had not considered asking Melissande.

  “I do not wish to trouble my lady wife with such matters. It is my responsibility, is it not?”

  Amaury shook his head. “But your lady is skilled in matters of administration, Quinn, and I have to think that she enjoys the challenge. If you do not join ways with her, she may feel slighted. I would not surrender such an ally readily.”

  Quinn recalled how Melissande had been surprised and then interested when they had speculated upon Gaultier’s response to his own arrival. Was it possible that there was another path to her heart, through conversation about Annossy? Quinn was more than prepared to discover the truth of it.

  They reached the mill quickly for it was not overly distant and the horses were well-rested.

  Annossy’s mill was a prosperous one, the building sufficiently extensive to reveal that truth. Its location was ideal for its work, for the stream that flowed down the mountain to join the Helva was lively, even at this time of year. The water splashed and raced, a fine mist rising above the water.

  The forest was thick on both sides of the stream and Quinn eyed the imposing face of the mountain from which the water originated. The peaks were wreathed in mist from this vantage but what he could discern was still white with snow. There was a ford just downstream from the mill, where rocks were scattered across the river’s width. The dividing of the waters for the mill widened the river and tamed it somewhat, making it more shallow. The forest, Quinn was certain, provided a haven for the bandits.

  He surveyed the course down the stream to the Helva and the major road that could be found there. It would be difficult for the bandits to hide in the valley itself. He pivoted and looked at the mountain again, wondering if there was a path.

  The men-at-arms assigned to defend the mill greeted Quinn and his party first. Jean and Robert they were, both dark-haired and dark-eyed, a little older and a little more plump that Quinn might have thought ideal. There was a complacency about them that displeased him, but he strove to overcome his first impression.

  They told of how the bandits had assaulted them before the dawn, overcome them both in the stables and bound them. When they continued to battle, they were each struck on the head and left unconscious. By the time they awakened and freed themselves, the thieves were gone.

  Quinn was skeptical of this tale and he saw a similar response in Bayard’s eyes. Though his companion appeared to be impassive, his eyes flicked in a familiar way. “Kudon,” he said to Quinn beneath his breath and Quinn nodded.

  He had been reminded of that very deception. Kudon was a small village they had been assigned to defend in the Latin Kingdoms, one plagued by thieves that were said to have come from outside—perhaps even from the Saracen enemy—but had proven to be knights charged with defending the village themselves.

  When the horses had been tethered, Quinn proceeded to the mill itself, his companions fast behind him. The miller and his wife stood before the portal, and bowed deeply before him. They were older, their faces lined from sun and years, and clearly robust. The miller was a large man and muscled, while his wife was sturdy. The boy with them looked to be ten summers of age, though Quinn was not certain he could be their son given the wife’s age. There was an integrity about them that Quinn recognized and welcomed.

  “Our grandson,” the miller’s wife said, giving him a nudge so that he bowed before the new lord. “We had two sons, my lord, and the younger apprenticed to the smith in Annossy.” She touched the boy’s shoulder. “Our older son was injured in the first attack by the brigands and died of his wounds.”

  “And his wife?”

  The miller’s wife smiled sadly. “She died bringing her son to light.”

  “I am most sorry,” Quinn said, feeling that his expression of sympathy was rough. Melissande would have known better what to say, but the miller’s wife nodded and blinked back her tears. “Tell me your son’s name and I will make his acquaintance in the village.”

  She smiled then. “He and his wife have a boy and a girl, my lord, but they are very young.” Her husband nudged her then and she fell silent so suddenly that Quinn knew she tended to be fulsome in discussion of her grandchildren.

  “I wager your pride in them is well-deserved,” he said and she flushed pink. “Now tell me of this assault.”

  The miller told Quinn of how they had been awakened by the hooded thieves and their grandson had been secured in an empty sack from grain. He leaned forward to show Quinn the bump upon the back of his head and Lothair stepped forward to as
sess the damage. They had been bound, hand and foot, then the fiends had threatened to kill the wife if the miller did not reveal the location of the treasury.

  The pair were still frightened, which was only reasonable. Lothair offered a salve for the torn flesh upon their wrists and ankles, as Quinn walked the site with the miller, listening to his tale.

  “Were the villains not pursued?” he asked Jean and Robert.

  “They had vanished by the time we freed ourselves,” one insisted.

  “And it is folly to ride into the forest alone,” said the other.

  Quinn was not impressed with their dedication to their task. Indeed, his sense of distrust was so strong that he wondered if they were in the employ of the thieves.

  He had always trusted his instincts and would do as much in this matter, as well.

  “How many were there?” he asked the miller.

  That man grimaced. “I saw two, but I thought there might have been a third.”

  Quinn sent Lothair and Niall to search the surrounding area, despite the protest of the men-at-arms that it was too late to find any detail. He ignored that and spoke to the miller. “Would you show me the mill? It looks most fine.”

  He entered the mill with Bayard and Amaury, the two men-at-arms following behind. There was dust yet in the air and the millstone was grinding, sacks of grain still waiting to be ground. Quinn asked about the annual schedule, the volume of grain, the tithes, and the miller was clearly glad to explain. Quinn glanced periodically at Amaury who nodded approval of these details. Finally, the miller showed the damage done to the stores by the bandits. Both grain and flour had been spilled and fouled with mud. He also showed the hidden treasury that he had been compelled to reveal, and expressed his dismay at the loss of his coin.

  This practice too, Quinn thought, showed that the area had been safe for many years. “Something must change if Annossy’s border and interest is to be defended,” he said. “It is unacceptable that you and your wife should be threatened in your own home.”