“I told no one. My father advised me against it.”
“Francois brought the message.”
Yes,“ admitted Alais, ”but I cannot believe Francois would-“
“Any number of servants might have seen him come to your chamber and overheard you talking.” She fixed Alais with her direct and intelligent stare. Why did you follow your father to Besiers?“
The change of subject was so sudden, so unexpected, that it took Alais by surprise.
“I was-” she began, sombre, but careful. She had come to Esclarmonde to find out answers to her questions. Instead, she found herself instead the witness. “He gave me a token,” she said, not taking her eyes from Esclarmonde’s face, “a token, with an engraving of a labyrinth. It was that the thieves took. Because of what my father had told me, I feared that every day that passed in ignorance of what had come to pass, might jeopardise the-‘ She broke off, not sure how to continue.
Instead of looking alarmed, Esclarmonde was smiling. “Did you tell him about the board too, Alais?” she said softly.
“On the eve of his departure, yes, before… before the attack. He was much perturbed, especially when I admitted I did not know where it had come from.” She paused. “But how do you know that I-”
“Sajhe saw it when he helped you buy cheese in the market and told me of it. As you remarked, he is observant.”
“It is a strange thing for a boy of eleven to remark upon.”
“He recognised its importance to me,” Esclarmonde replied.
“Like the merel!
Their eyes met.
Esclarmonde hesitated. “No,” she said, choosing her words with care. “No, not exactly.”
“You have it?” said Ala’is slowly.
Esclarmonde nodded.
“But why did you simply not ask? I would have given it willingly.”
“Sajhe was there the night of your disappearance to make just such a request. He waited and waited and when, finally, you still did not return your chamber, he took it. In the circumstances, it was good that he did.”
“And you have it still?”
Esclarmonde nodded.
Alais felt a surge of triumph, proud that she had been right about her the last guardian.
I saw the pattern. It spoke to me.
“Answer me this, Esclarmonde,” she said, her excitement making her hurry. “If the board belongs to you, why did my father not know it?”
Esclarmonde smiled. “For the same reason he does not know why I have it. Because Harif wished it. For the safety of the Trilogy.”
Alais couldn’t trust herself to speak.
“Good. So, now we understand one another, you must tell me all you know.”
Esclarmonde listened carefully until Alais had reached the end of her story.
“And Simeon is making his way to Carcassona?”
“Yes, although he gave to my father the book for safekeeping.”
“A wise precaution.” She nodded. “I shall looking forward to making his acquaintance properly. He always seemed a fine man.”
“I liked him enormously,” admitted Alais. “In Besiers, my father was disappointed to discover Simeon had but one of the books. He was expecting both.”
Esclarmonde was about to answer when there was a sudden hammering on the shutters and door.
Both women leaped to their feet.
“Atencion! Atencion!”
“What is it? What’s going on?” cried Alais.
“Soldiers! In your father’s absence, there have been a number of searches.”
“But what are they looking for?”
“Criminals, they say, but in truth for Bons Homes!
“But on whose authority do they act? The consuls?”
Esclarmonde shook her head. “Berenger de Rochefort, our noble Bishop; the Spanish monk Domingo de Guzman and his friar preachers; legates, who can say? They do not announce themselves.”
That’s against our laws to-“
Esclarmonde raised a finger to her lips. “Sssh. They might yet pass us by.”
At that moment, a savage kick sent splinters of wood flying into the room. The latch gave and the door smashed back against the stone wall with a hollow thud. Two men-at-arms, their features concealed by helmets worn low over their faces, burst into the room.
“I am Alais du Mas, the daughter of Intendant Pelletier. I demand to know on whose authority you act.”
They did not lower their weapons nor raise their visors.
“I insist that you-”
There was a flash of red in the doorway and to Alais’ horror, Oriane appeared in the doorway. “Sister! What brings you here in this manner?”
“I come at our father’s request to escort you back to the Chateau Comtal. Your somewhat hasty departure from Vespers has already reached his ears. Fearing some catastrophe might have overtaken you, he bid me find you.”
You are lying.
“He would never think such a thing unless you had planted the idea in his head in the first place,” she said immediately. Alais glanced at the soldiers. “And was it his idea to bring an armed guard?”
“We all have your best interests at heart,” she said, smiling slightly.
They were, I admit, perhaps overzealous.“
“There is no need for you to concern yourself. I will return to the Chateau Comtal when I am ready.”
Alais suddenly realised Oriane wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were sweeping around the room. Alais felt a hard cold feeling in her stomach.
Could Oriane have overheard their conversation?
Immediately, she changed tactics. “On second thoughts, perhaps I will accompany you now. My business here is concluded.”
“Business, sister?”
Oriane started to prowl around the room, running her hand over the backs of the chairs and the surface of the table. She opened the lid of the chest standing in the corner, then let it fall shut with a snap. Alais I watched her anxiously.
She halted on the threshold of Esclarmonde’s consulting room. “What is it you do through there, sorciere,” Oriane said contemptuously, acknowledging Esclarmonde for the first time. “Potions, spells for the weak-minded?” She put her head inside, a look of disgust on her face, then withdrew. There are many who say you are a witch, Esclarmonde de Servian, a faitilhier as the common people say.“
How dare you address her like that!“ exclaimed Alais. ”
“You are welcome to look, Dame Oriane, if it pleases you,” said Esclarmonde mildly.
Oriane suddenly grabbed Alais’ arm. That is enough from you,“ she said, digging her sharp nails into Alais’ skin. ”You declared yourself ready to the Chateau, so let us go.“
Before she knew it, Alais found herself back in the street. The soldiers so close behind her that she could feel their breath on the back of She had a fleeting memory of the smell of ale, a calloused hand over mouth.
“Quick,” said Oriane, poking her in the back.
For Esclarmonde’s sake, Alais felt she had no choice but to comply with Oriane’s wishes. At the corner of the street, Alais managed to throw a final glance over her shoulder. Esclarmonde was standing in the doorway, watching. Quickly, she raised her finger to her lips. A clear warning to say nothing.
CHAPTER 36
In the donjon, Pelletier rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms to relieve the stiffness in his bones.
For many hours, messengers had been dispatched from the Chateau Comtal carrying letters to all of Trencavel’s sixty vassals not already making their way to Carcassona. The strongest of his vassals were independent in all but name, so Pelletier was mindful of the need for Raymond-Roger to persuade and appeal rather than command. Each letter laid bare the threat in the clearest terms. The French were massing on their borders preparing for an invasion the like of which the Midi had never seen. The garrison at Carcassona had to be strengthened. They must fulfil their obligation of allegiance and come with as many good men as they could muster.