Forever His(34)

Etienne peeked into the hut during the momentary silence. “Milady?” he asked a bit timidly. “Is there aught I can do to help?”

“I don’t think your lord would like that, Etienne.”

“I do not think he means to make you suffer,” he said with staunch loyalty. “Sir Gaston treats all women with great care. He is always most chivalrous.”

“Chivalrous?” Celine stopped in her hay-pitching, looking pointedly around the reeking hut, then back at the lanky teenager. “I think we can safely say that isn’t true.”

“He would not do this if you would agree to what he asks.”

“I can’t give the King information that I don’t have,” she said wearily, tired of repeating that. “I can’t explain why, but no matter what Gaston does to me, I will never be able to tell him about Tourelle’s plan. It’s impossible.”

Etienne went a little pale. “Then I fear for you, milady.”

Celine stopped her work again and straightened, a tiny tremor going through her. First the King with his warning—now Gaston’s own squire. Why did everyone seem convinced he might do some sort of harm to her? “Etienne, he wouldn’t actually ... I mean, if he’s as chivalrous as you say, he would never ...”

“In this situation, I cannot say,” Etienne said ominously.

Celine tried to convince herself that Etienne was saying that on purpose, to make her afraid of Gaston so she would give in and confess. But a lump settled in the pit of her stomach.

“Why, Etienne? Why does he hate me so much?”

“Because of what happened to his father and brother,” Etienne supplied matter-of-factly.

Celine shook her head, not understanding. “What happened?”

“Everyone knows.”

“I don’t.”

He peered at her with a look of surprise and suspicion.

“Etienne, if it’s such common knowledge, there’s no harm in telling me, is there?”

“You truly do not know?” he asked warily. “You were never told?”

“No. I don’t know about anything that happened before I arrived here on New Year’s Eve.”

He considered that for a moment. “Mayhap it is as everyone has been saying—your caravan was attacked in the forest and you lost your memory due to a blow to the head.”

“Perhaps. I have no memory of what happened, in the forest or before.” That was true enough. “Please, Etienne—remind me?”

He brightened a bit. “Mayhap the truth will persuade you to change your mind about your stubbornness, and spare you from this onerous work. Very well, milady, I will tell you. Milord’s father and brother were killed last autumn, during a tournament with your overlord, the Duc de la Tourelle. Sir Gaston believes it was murder.”

Celine gasped, unable to speak for a moment. His father and brother murdered. “But ... why would he believe it was murder?” she asked, confused. “What if it was just an accident? Weren’t there people there to see it?” She thought of all the movies she had ever seen, of knights in bright armor charging one another on opposite sides of a fence, with ladies and nobles watching from nearby pavilions with colorful pennants.

Etienne looked at her strangely. “No, of course not. It was a tournament, milady. Not a joust.”

She mirrored his uncomprehending look. “Perhaps you had better explain to me what that means, Etienne. I ... uh ... can’t seem to remember.”

“A tourney is much like a battle,” he said impatiently, as if even a child should know. “Two teams of knights fight for days, over a field many miles wide, even through towns and forests. The knights seek to win prizes and ransoms and fame for their battle prowess—but it is not unknown for men to be badly wounded or even killed. The Church condemns it as a most un-Christian sport.”

Celine gaped at him. That sounded nothing like the festive events she had always seen in movies. “So ... that’s how Gaston’s father and brother were killed? In this mock battle?”

“Nay, milady. Their bodies were not discovered until the tourney was over—” He stopped suddenly, as if unsure he should be revealing such details. “The circumstances were ... suspicious. Especially as the Duc was the one who had issued the challenge to tourney, and made immediate claim on their castles and lands when their bodies were found. I fear that if milord had been there as well, he would have—”

“But why wasn’t Gaston there?”

Etienne paused, glancing at the ground. “That is unimportant, milady—I must tell you the rest of what happened.” He raised his head, eyes suddenly blazing. “Tourelle acted as if the spoils were already his to claim. He ravaged the Varennes lands, ordered his men to ransack the villages, to take all the food and valuables they came upon. And Tourelle himself ... some of the villagers’ wives and daughters ...” He hesitated, turning red.