“A la perfin,” said Trencavel, softening the wax over the flame before setting his seal upon it. At last.
Pelletier returned to his Viscount’s side, nodding to Jehan Congost. He had little time for Oriane’s husband usually, but on this occasion he had admit Congost and his team of scribes had worked tirelessly and efficiently. Now, as the servant took the final missive to the last waiting messenger, Pelletier gave the escrivans permission to leave too. Following Congost’s lead, one by one they rose, cracking the joints of their stiff fingers, rubbing tired eyes, gathering up their rolls of parchment, quills and inks. Pelletier waited until he and Viscount Trencavel were alone.
“You should rest, Messire,” he said. “You need to conserve your strength.”
Trencavel laughed. “Forca e vertu,‘ he said, echoing the words he’d spoken in Beziers. Strength and courage. ”Do not worry, Bertrand, I am well. Never better.“ The Viscount put his hand on Pelletier’s shoulder. You my old friend, do look in need of rest.”
“I confess the thought is attractive, Messire,” he admitted. After weeks of broken nights, he felt every one of his fifty-two years.
“Tonight we will all sleep in our own beds, Bertrand, although I’m that hour is still some way off, for us at least.” His handsome face grew solemn. “It is essential I meet with the consuls as soon as possible, as many as can be gathered at such notice.”
Pelletier nodded. “Do you have a particular request?”
“Even if all of our vassals heed my call, and come bringing a fair contingent of soldiers with them, we need more men.” He spread his hands.
“You wish the consuls to raise a war chest?”
We need enough to buy the services of disciplined, battle-skilled mercenaries, Aragonese or Catalan, the closer to hand the better.“
“Have you considered a raise in taxes? On salt, perhaps? Wheat?”
“It’s too soon for that. For now, I would rather try to gather the funds we need through gift than obligation.” He paused. “If that fails, then I will consider more stringent measures. How progresses the fortification?”
“All masons and sawyers within the Ciutat, Sant-Vincens and Sant-Miquel have been summoned, as well as from the villages to the north.
Work to dismantle the choir stalls in the cathedral and the priests’ refectory has already begun.“
Trencavel grinned. “Berenger de Rochefort will not like that!”
The Bishop will have to accept it,“ Pelletier growled. We need all the timber we can get, as quickly as possible, to start work constructing the ambans and cadefalcs. His palace and the cloisters are the closest source of wood available.”
Raymond-Roger held up his hands in mock surrender. I’m not challenging your decision,“ he laughed. ”The hoards and brattices are more important than the Bishop’s comfort! Tell me, Bertrand, has Pierre-Roger de Cabaret arrived yet?“
“Not yet, Messire, although he is expected at any time.”
“Send him straight to me when he comes, Bertrand. If possible, I would delay speaking with the consuls until he is here. They hold him in high esteem. Any word from Termenes or Foix?”
“None yet, Messire.”
A while later, Pelletier stood looking out over the Cour d’Honneur, his hands on his hips, pleased at how quickly work was progressing. Already, sounds of sawing and hammering, the rumble of cart wheels delivering wood, nails and tar, the roar of the fires in the smithy filled the courtyard.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alais running across the courtyard towards him. He frowned.
Why did you send Oriane to fetch me?“ she demanded as she came level with him.
He looked bewildered. “Oriane? To fetch you from where?”
“I was visiting a friend, Esclarmonde de Servian, in the southern quartier of the Ciutat, when Oriane arrived, accompanied by two soldiers, claiming you had sent her to bring me back to the Chateau.” She watched her father’s face for signs of a reaction, but saw only bafflement. “Is she speaking the truth?”
“I have not seen Oriane.”
“Have you spoken to her as you promised, about her behaviour in your absence?”
“I have not yet had the chance.”
“I beseech you, do not underestimate her. She knows something, something that could harm you, I am convinced of it.”
Pelletier’s face turned red. “I will not have you accusing your sister. This has got-”
“The labyrinth board belongs to Esclarmonde,” she blurted out.
He stopped as if she had struck him. What? What do you mean?“
“Simeon gave it, remember, to the woman who came for the second book.”
“It cannot be,” he said, with such force that Alais took a step back.
“Esclarmonde is the other guardian,” Alais persisted, talking faster before he stopped her. “The sister in Carcassona of whom Harif wrote. She knew about the merel too.”
“And Esclarmonde has told you she is a guardian?” he demanded. “Because if she has, then-”
“I did not ask her directly,” Alais replied firmly, then added. “It makes sense, Paire. She is exactly the nature of person Harif would choose.”
She paused. “What do you know of Esclarmonde?”
“I know of her reputation as a wise woman. And have reason to be grateful to her for the love and attention she has shown to you. She has a grandson, you say?”
“Great-grandson, yes. Sajhe. He is eleven. Esclarmonde comes from Servian, Messire. She came to Carcassona when Sajhe was a baby. The timings all fit with what Simeon reported.”
“Intendant Pelletier.”
They both turned as a servant hurried towards them.
“Messire, my lord Trencavel requests your presence immediately in his chambers. Pierre-Roger, Lord of Cabaret, has arrived.”
“Where is Francois?”
I know not, Messire.“ Pelletier glowered at him in frustration.
Tell my lord I will attend him immediately,“ he said brusquely. Then find Francois and send him to me. The man’s never where he should be.”
Alais laid her hand on his arm. “At least speak with Esclarmonde. Hear what she has to say. I will take word to her.”
He hesitated, then gave in. When Simeon comes, then I will listen to what your wise woman has to say.“
Pelletier strode up the stairs. At the top, he stopped.
“One thing, Alais. How did Oriane know where to find you?”
“She must have followed me from Sant-Nasari, although…” she stopped, as she realised Oriane wouldn’t have had time to enlist the help of the soldiers and return so quickly. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I am sure of-‘
But Pelletier was already gone. As she walked across the courtyard, Alais was relieved to see that Oriane was no longer anywhere to be seen.
Then she stopped.
What if she went back?
Alais picked up her skirts and ran.
As soon as she rounded the corner of Esclarmonde’s street, Alais saw her fears were justified. The shutters hung by a thread and the door had been ripped clean from its frame.
“Esclarmonde,” she cried. “Are you here?”
Alais went inside. The furniture lay upturned, the arms of the chair snapped like broken bones. The contents of the chest were thrown carelessly on the ground and the remains of the fire had been kicked over, leaving clouds of soft, grey ash smudged on the floor.
She climbed a few steps up the ladder. Straw, bedding and feathers covered the wooden slats of the sleeping area, everything ripped through.