“Withdraw, or I will compel you to. I am the Maid and thus the Fountain bids me.”
“What is this?” Alensson whispered to her young squire.
The squire was gawking at his mistress, her hair freshly washed, her cheeks slightly flushed from her excited manner of speaking. In the days that had followed the incident at Alensson’s tent, her demeanor had shifted from peasant to nobility, as if she had commanded servants all her life.
“Read it back to me,” she demanded of the scribe, Doone’s man, who looked at her as if she were some madwoman.
“Do it,” Doone said, giving Alensson a nod that spoke of his bewilderment.
The scribe cleared this throat and pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. “Ahem. ‘To the Duke of Deford. To Lord Scales and Lord Tenby. To Lord Ashe. Greetings to you, lords of Ceredigion. In the name of the Fountain and the true king of Occitania, I—Genette the Maid—order you to abandon the cities you unrighteously hold.’ ” He paused, tapping his cheek with the quill. “That is not a proper word . . .” he added sheepishly.
“Keep reading!” Genette snapped.
“Very well, ahem, ‘I implore you, on fear for your life and lands, on the lives and duties which you hold to your wives and your children, that you withdraw immediately from Lionn and all the towns up to the river Argent. If you do not, I will attack you and drive you out, and much blood will be shed. You have usurped the rights of Occitania, which displeases the Fountain. Withdraw, or I will compel you to. I am the Maid and thus the Fountain bids me.’ ”
The scribe lowered his head, looking at her from above his spectacles. “Is that all?”
“Send a herald to Lionn and have this delivered to the garrison captain, Lord Tenby.”
Earl Doone stared at her agape. “You’re going to warn them we’re coming?”
“Of course,” Genette said, full of confidence. “We must give them a chance to leave before we attack.”
“But telling them defeats the advantage of surprise. No doubt their spies have watched our army growing. They know we’re going to attack, but they do not yet know where.” He looked at Alensson for support, gesturing for him to speak up.
Alensson looked into Doone’s eyes. “I see no harm in her strategy.”
“You too?” Doone’s tone was full of accusation. “After what you did at Vernay, I was expecting something more subtle!”
Alensson raised his eyebrows. “Do you think they will believe we are coming to attack them when we say we are? Might they not consider it a ruse?”
Genette stamped her foot. “I intend no trickery. Why are we debating this? We should be at Lionn already. Did I not tell you the power of the Fountain is with us?”
“You did,” Doone said with a grimace. “But surely it expects us to use wisdom and judgment. We’re gathering supplies for the army. Men can’t eat promises, girl. They need to be paid. How much longer will the supply wagons take, Alensson?”
“We almost have enough for the first month, but the captain of the supply wagons thinks the siege might take months, so—”
“Enough of this!” Genette interrupted. “We must go. We must go at once. We will break the siege in days, my lords, not months.”
Alensson stared at her in surprise. Had she seen this in the visions she’d told him about?
She nodded vigorously and pounded her fist into her palm. “Believe in my mission, lords of Occitania. Believe I am what I declared myself to be, or believe me not at all. We must ride today. The people of Lionn have suffered this siege for too long. Lord Tenby will not surrender the city to us easily. He will fight. But we will win. Send this letter ahead of us. Send a copy to Deford himself in Pree. No matter how much they try to prepare, they will fail. They may as well try and stop a flood.” Her words had an ominous sound to them.
Doone threw up his hands. “I’ll notify the prince that we are leaving now. We’ll see if he supports this risk.”
Genette smiled triumphantly. She turned to her squire. “Fetch my banner at once.”
Alensson had thought he’d have time to see Jianne before they departed for Lionn. The suddenness of their decampment prevented that, and he knew she’d worry about him, so he hastily wrote another letter to her to inform her of his departure and to seek her forgiveness for not coming, but he added that he hoped they would next meet in her liberated city. He rode astride a borrowed warhorse, next to Genette and her squire, down the dusty road toward the city of Lionn. There would be no disguising the army’s approach, and the letter had been sent ahead. Surely their enemies would await them.