The Maid's War(35)

Alensson chuckled. “A fitting name for a cunning king. His father, my king, had a different title. Chatriyon Le Victorieux. Chatriyon the Victorious.” His face crumpled with resentment.

“I take it you do not agree with the nickname,” Ankarette mused.

Alensson’s frown was fierce. “He never fought in a single battle,” he said tightly, his voice throbbing with anger. “He was a coward, though he justified his cowardice through the claim that his son was too young. If Chatriyon died, it would have been easy for his enemies to fetch and destroy his heir. The Ceredigics are butchers, you know. For them, defeating a man isn’t enough—they also try to wipe out his heirs. They want to end the game, you see,” he added darkly in a half whisper.

“You’ve mentioned that several times,” Ankarette said curiously. “What game?”

He smirked, but Ankarette could see he regretted his choice of words. “The game of war, of course,” he said, covering for himself poorly. “It’s always been played.” That was not what he had meant, and she knew it. There was something more, something deeper that she was beginning to gain awareness of.

“Why did you rebel against your king?” she asked him pointedly.

He folded his arms imperiously. “Let me tell you the rest of her story. We don’t have much time before the guards arrive. You need to be gone unless I can persuade you to take me with you.”

“Tell me the story before I decide,” Ankarette said. It would be difficult smuggling Alensson out of the palace. But she was fascinated by his story and wanted to know more. She knew what had happened to the Maid. That story was famous. But what about Alensson’s wife, Jianne? Had they had any children? Was she still alive?

“I will be brief then,” he said, taking his seat again at the window. “When Lionn fell, my wife came immediately with the court. The Maid had prophesied that she herself would lift the siege and she had. It was absolutely evident that she was truly Fountain-blessed. Word of the victory spread and the Maid insisted that she fulfill the Fountain’s will by bringing Chatriyon to the sanctuary at Ranz and crowning him king. Well, Ranz was inside enemy territory. There were several garrisons of Ceredigic forces occupying defensive positions along the route. The Maid insisted that the army march and clear the way for the prince to attend his coronation. All our enemies would fall.” He laughed and shook his head. “The audacity! She was a spirited girl, Ankarette. I admired her and respected her. And yes, I was envious as well. Why hadn’t the Fountain chosen me to save our people? Why had it entrusted its will to a slip of a girl who should have been carding wool in Donremy? Instead of shearing sheep, she’d shorn her hair, donned a suit of armor, and carried a banner into war. She was extraordinary!” He sighed at the memory. “But my wife was worried about the danger after seeing the battlefield. She grew fearful that something was going to happen to me. She was so worried that I would die.”

His voice became tender as he said the words. “I miss her so.”

“What happened?” Ankarette asked. “Obviously you did survive.”

He grinned at her. “I nearly did not.”





CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A New Heart





Alensson was in a war council with Aspen Hext, Earl Doone, and Genette when word arrived that the prince’s court had been spotted approaching Lionn and would soon arrive. They hovered around the bulky parchment map spread across the circular table where they had been poring over the rivers, cities, and towns of Occitania. Their attention was narrowed on the road from Lionn to Ranz—and its proximity to where Deford’s army from Westmarch was gathering in Pree.

Lord Hext jabbed his finger on the map. “Chatriyon is almost here and we still haven’t agreed on a course of action. Why not attack Pree?”

“Because the Fountain wills that the prince be crowned at Ranz,” Genette insisted. “We will take Pree in proper order, my lord. But first he must be crowned. It is imperative.”

“But I don’t understand why,” Hext argued. “Look here. The road to Pree is the most direct road to Ranz.”

“We could go this way, through Troye,” Doone suggested, tapping another city midway between them but farther south.

“Yes,” Genette said. “That is the way.”

“Once a boulder starts tumbling down a hill, it gains speed and power,” Hext said. “The men are feeling triumphant after our victory here. Let’s test them against the gates of Pree!”

“And we will,” Genette said, looking up at him. “But first, we must crown the king. Our safety depends on it.”