but you get me.” I pop the fish in my mouth and pray I will be able to swallow the greasy lump of revulsion that accompanies it.
“You will have all my many skills at your disposal. You’ve simply to point me in the direction you want, and I will be your diplomat, your spy, or your knife in the dark. As you told me, brother, my skills hold great value for you. But only if they are willfully given. Otherwise, you can never trust that I will do as you command and not betray your own interests.”
“That is why I need your sisters.”
Your sisters, not our sisters. “That is where you are wrong. If you force them to come here, I will be so concerned—and involved—in their safety and upbringing I will be unable to serve you in the manner you wish.”
His eyes glint with both interest and wariness. “We shall see.”
“Yes, we shall.”
When the interminable meal is finally over, we rise from the table. I grab my goblet, still half full of wine, then take a sip. “Can you give me a tour of the holding? I have not been here in over ten years and fear I have forgotten much of it.”
He pauses, considering, then nods once, motioning for my guards to follow at a distance. As we leave the great chamber, I smile again. “Did you think to bring the hawks?”
He glances at me. “Yes, but it will be a while before I trust you enough with such freedom.”
My heart sinks. We are to stay longer than I’d hoped. “I look forward to earning that trust,” I say over the rim of my goblet, then take another sip.
He takes me through the third floor, where his rooms are situated. It is far more richly appointed than the fourth. When I have seen all I need to, I make a point of yawning. “Thank you, dear brother. I find I am growing fatigued.” I turn to the guards then. “Come along, fellows. I’m off to bed. And no use fighting over who will join me tonight, for I am too tired after our long journey.”
* * *
Once back in my room, I begin pacing, tired though I am. The castle layout holds no surprises, but no answers either. There are no visible exits but the ones I passed through on my arrival. No stairway out the back, no private inner courtyard that I can access. It is not much to work with, but it is more than I had three hours ago.
I have also learned the location of Pierre’s strongbox—the one that every lord carries with him from holding to holding that contains all his important legal documents.
And correspondence.
Now I must simply find a way to evade my guards, sneak to his office on the floor below—without being detected—and search the box that is secured with not one, but two locks.
* * *
Unable to sleep, I rise from the bed, slip into my cloak and shoes, and head for the door. The guards come to attention as I emerge from my room. “Are you to prevent me from leaving or merely follow me if I do?” I inquire politely.
They exchange an uncertain glance. “Depends on where you’re going,” one of them says.
“Just down the hall. I wish to pay my respects to my father.”
After a moment’s indecision, they agree and follow me to d’Albret’s chamber.
I scratch at the door lightly, braced for Madame Dinan to launch herself at me, but it is only a somber maidservant, who quickly steps back and lets me in. I pause at the threshold, not sure what is driving my desire to see this man. Mayhap to assure myself that he is still incapacitated.
As I draw near the bed, I search for his heartbeat and feel . . . something. It is not a truly beating heart, but more of a stirring, much as a pebble is stirred by the flow of a stream.
Slowly, half afraid that if I look at him he will miraculously recover and leap from the bed, ready to wreak havoc on my world once more, I draw back the bed curtain.
Shock is my first reaction, for I would not have recognized him if I had not known who he was. D’Albret le Grand has shrunk to naught but loose skin on overlarge bones, his face gaunt and drooling. It is nearly impossible to reconcile this man with the one who made my life a waking nightmare.
He should be