The Maid's War(89)

The queen had given her husband a brood of handsome children. She would be pleased to learn that their eldest child, the girl Elyse, was now destined to be a queen herself—the Queen of Occitania. The treaty with Lewis would make Eredur and his queen perhaps the wealthiest monarchs in all the kingdoms. And yes, Ankarette had heard many mutterings about the shameful treaty and how it had blighted Eredur’s honor. But at least she knew the truth behind Eredur’s choice.

At the end of the corridor, the ceiling and walls pinched together into a dead-end, marking the secret entrance to the royal couple’s private bedchamber. She inspected the secret portal to make sure the queen was alone before she tapped on it and then triggered the release to open it.

“Ankarette!” the queen said with a delighted smile. She rose from her desk, where she had been answering correspondence. The two women embraced and the queen kissed her cheek. “Looks like you fought a rosebush, dearest,” the queen said. “I was worried about you.”

“You needn’t worry,” Ankarette said. “I am quite resourceful.”

“You are indeed,” the queen said, then took her by the arm and brought her to a wide bench where they could both sit. “I can tell you have news. I am eager to hear it! But you must tell me first. Did you have to kill the Duke of La Marche? I hope he didn’t cause these injuries.”

Ankarette shook her head. “No. He was kind and gentle, to be sure. These were incurred trying to help him escape. Unfortunately, he did not.”

The queen looked saddened. “I’ve always pitied him for some reason. Lewis should have executed him much earlier for all the treasons he committed, but he was one of the last nobles who truly believed in the principles of Virtus. He died childless. He had no heir. Did you know that?”

“I did, my lady,” Ankarette said. “You will be pleased to learn,” she said, holding back a smile, “before the herald arrives, that a treaty of peace was signed by your husband and King Lewis yesterday. There will not be a war.”

“Thank the Fountain!” the queen gushed in relief. “I’m sure Eredur is disappointed. He always loves a good duel to prove how strong he is. But to be honest, he is getting older. Our sons are so young; they need their father.”

“I agree, my lady.” Ankarette mentioned Severn’s reservations and recounted his admonition and warning.

The queen’s countenance darkened. “I fear that man,” she whispered. After a moment, her eyes brightened and she said, “Tell me about the duke. I’d like to hear his story.”

“I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

“You couldn’t find a more willing listener, Ankarette. Please, tell me all.” She clasped Ankarette’s hands and looked into her eyes. They were dear friends and had been for many years. Ankarette did not like to deny the queen, and she would have heeded her even if duty hadn’t demanded it. The solitude of the tower would have to be postponed.

And so Ankarette told her of her mission, but as she had done with Eredur, she held back some of the private details of Alensson’s life. It was as if she sensed the Fountain wanted her to keep them secret.

When she finally finished, Ankarette patted her hand. “Well, my lady. I am weary from the journey. I will leave you to your letters.”

“Yes, you may rest, but only for a little while,” the queen said, rising from the bench. “Speaking of letters, one came recently from the Duchess of Westmarch. Her pregnancy isn’t going very well.”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant again,” Ankarette said.

“She is,” the queen answered, returning to the table and searching for a letter amidst the heap. “Ah, here it is. Poor dear. She’s had several stillborn children already.”

The word struck Ankarette like a lightning bolt. She felt the Fountain’s magic start to stir inside her, coming unbidden. Her pulse raced unnaturally with a sort of giddiness.

“Yes, m-my lady?” Ankarette stammered, suddenly distraught.

“The babe is due this month. I’d like you to go to Tatton Hall, Ankarette. You are one of the best midwives in Ceredigion.”

“If you think so,” the poisoner said demurely.

“You are too modest. I would like you to go offer some comfort to the duchess. It may be another boy, after all, though they have two already. Their oldest will make a fine heir, but you can never guess at the future. I think it would ease her mind greatly if you were there to help in the birthing. Whatever is wrong, Ankarette? You look a little pale suddenly.”

“I’m just tired, my lady,” the queen’s poisoner said softly, thinking about the Maid’s prophecy.