Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,135

me in bemusement, I say, “My mother is a whore. All the aunts I told you about—they work in that same trade. I am in no position to throw stones at anyone else’s beginnings.”

She blinks once, the only reaction she allows to show. “I would never have guessed you were not noble born. You have mastered your training well.”

I shrug, not sure what to say to that.

A considering look crosses her face. “Then why not dally with Lazare? I can’t help but think that your dealings with the king have left a poor taste in your mouth. Perhaps a fun tumble would be just the thing to cast it from your mind?”

She is right. “A fun tumble would be just the thing. But my stupid body has decided there is only one person it wishes to tumble with, and saints know where he is.”

“Who?” she asks gently.

I jerk my head around to look at her. “I did not say that aloud.”

She smiles faintly. “You did, actually.”

Rutting goats! I stare straight ahead, debating whether to tell her or not. “Maraud,” I say finally. When she still looks puzzled, I clarify. “Crunard. Anton Crunard.”

She stares at me a long moment, then gives out a whoop of laughter.

I scowl at her and start to rise to my feet. “No, no. It is not you. It is just that I think Father Effram is more correct than he knows when he tells us of the gods using us for their own amusement.”

It is not her laughing that has me wanting to get up and move, but the concern that has lurked in my breast since Maraud disappeared. I have not told Sybella yet. The more I think upon it, the more I fear it is not coincidence that he went missing the same time as her brother. I do not want to place that burden on her shoulders.

“He is not dead,” she says finally.

Hope quickly fills me. “Is it one of Mortain’s gifts that tells you that?”

“No. It is me being hopeful. I refuse to believe the gods have woven all these threads together simply to snip one off too soon.”

I stare down at the grass. “What if they have decided that is my punishment?”

“For what? Sleeping with the king? If that were the case, every courtesan, mistress, and favorite throughout history would’ve been struck dead.”

It is more complicated than that, but before I can explain further, she continues. “As much as it pains me to sound precisely like Father Effram, I cannot help but believe it simply means his role in all of this—whatever this might encompass—is not over.”

 Chapter 74

Maraud

By the time they reached Limoges, Andry and Tassin were riding with the group, although Maraud had not spoken to them or even made eye contact. But knowing they were there was enough. D’Albret’s holding was a teeming mass of soldiers and men-at-arms. There was only one thing so many men could be preparing for. “Having a jousting tourney, are you, d’Albret? I didn’t think that was a sport you enjoyed.”

D’Albret cut him a glance that told him just how unamused he was by Maraud’s taunting. “We’re preparing for war.”

Just as he’d feared. “Against whom?”

Another sideways glance, this one sly. “You’ll see.”

Maraud turned his attention toward the keep, taking in the training yard, the stables, the looming manor that had a more oppressive air than most hulking piles of stone. “You keep saying that. I think you’ve got nothing but bluster.”

The half-loaded supply wagons gave lie to that, but Maraud pretended he didn’t see them. Whatever the man was planning, it was a thoroughly provisioned affair.

“You are dangerously close to calling me a liar, Crunard. Be a shame to have to cut that clever tongue of yours out. Think of all the ladies who’d be disappointed.”

Maraud dropped the pretense. “Who are you planning to fight?”

“We. We will be fighting.”

“You still haven’t said against whom, and I am not inclined to sign up blindly for an ill-defined war against an unknown enemy.”

Without warning, Pierre brought his horse to a stop, then tossed his reins to a nearby lackey who scrambled his way. “Come with me.”

About damned time, Maraud thought as he dismounted and strode after Pierre. They reached the north tower of the keep, then waited for the guards to step aside.

“To answer your mewling question,” Pierre said, “we’re riding to Brittany. Day after tomorrow.”

“Brittany? Why?” Maraud stepped into the gate tower, the sudden lack of sunlight causing him to blink rapidly. The door clanged