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Chapter 17

Message for Basati

The vaulted wooden walls of the Great Hall in le Chateau de Landuc were adorned with Yuletide garlands of holly and ivy, the shiny dark green vines interwoven with an abundance of bright red berries and stalks of spicy, aromatic cloves. On the opposite wall facing the elevated dais where Cardin sat at the table of honor with Ulla and Lukaz, a crackling fire heated the vast chamber against the early December chill. Above the mantel of the enormous hearth, fresh evergreen boughs and white hellebore blossoms perfumed the festive air with a sweet floral fragrance and the crisp, clean scent of pine.

Along each side of the room, knights and ladies feasted on frumenty pottage, platters of venison, wild boar, poached salmon and pike, the celebration dinner concluding with sweet tarts and pastries, candied fruits and cheese. As castle servants cleared the tables and refilled goblets of fine French wine, Cardin’s father, Esclados le Ros, lord of the castle, rose from his seat to propose a toast.

“ Messieurs, dames , tonight we celebrate the betrothal of my son, Sir Cardin de Landuc, to the lovely healer, Lady Ulla de Montreuil.” The deep baritone of his father’s voice reverberated through the great hall. “They will be married here on the sixth of January. A Twelfth Night wedding—the culmination of our Yuletide season—at le Chateau de Landuc .” White teeth gleaming in the candlelight against his coppery burnished skin, the famed Red Knight raised his goblet high, prompting guests to follow his noble lead. “Let us drink to the betrothed couple. To Sir Cardin and Lady Ulla. To their son Lukaz. To their future together as a family in the Kingdom of Finistère.”

Amid cheers for the upcoming wedding, lively melodies from viols, rebecs, fiddles, and flutes enticed the jovial celebrants into the adjacent ballroom as musicians began performing and guests began to dance.

While Lukaz remained at the table with his grandmother Laudine, Cardin swept Ulla onto the dance floor to join in la carole . Fingers linked with other dancers’, they twirled in circles around the room, Ulla’s beautiful face alit with silent laughter and sublime joy.

When the evening ended, they tucked Lukaz in bed together. And—while guests retired to their quarters or returned to their nearby homes—slipped quietly from the castle, back to the cottage in the woods.

****

The sumptuous red velvet was perfect. The deep scarlet hue would enhance the dazzling ruby in her exquisite bridal ring. Overwhelmed with gratitude by Laudine’s generous offer of the luxurious fabric, Ulla watched in awe as seamstresses sewed the elegant Yuletide wedding gown she would soon wear to marry Cardin.

She and Laudine had just finished preparing herbs and were savoring a cup of chamomile tea in the cozy alcove off the castle kitchen. “The village goldsmith has adjusted the wedding rings. They were delivered this morning.” Laudine sipped her steaming tisane . “The tailor is creating a gold velvet tunic and black woolen breeches for Cardin to wear. With an elegant black hat adorned with a fine feather plume.” Laudine rose from her seat, fetched something from the corner cupboard, and placed it on the table in front of Ulla. Anticipation and excitement widened her expressive eyes.

An ornate bridal wreath—dual strands of ivy and holly were braided with a ribbon of rich red velvet and adorned with sparkling rubies. From the center back of the headpiece, a veil of gossamer golden silk cascaded to the floor. “I created this to match your wedding gown.” Laudine placed the wreath on Ulla’s head and bent down to kiss her cheek. “You will be a most beautiful bride.” She wrapped her arms around Ulla’s shoulders and whispered in her ear. “Thank you for healing my son, the Basque Wolf of Biarritz.” Tears glimmered in Laudine’s grateful gaze. “And my Little Wolf Lukaz, too.”

Ulla removed the velvet and silk headpiece, laid it carefully upon the table, and rose to embrace Laudine. She taught me healing herbs when I was a young priestess. Took me in when my parents died. Welcomed me back when Romain and Fjall were killed. My teacher, my mentor, my friend. And soon—Goddess willing— my mother-in-law as well.

Amid heartfelt laughter and tears of joy, Laudine rocked Ulla in her loving arms, then released her gently. “Come, let’s visit Rozenn and her babe to check on their progress. By the time we return, Cardin and Lukaz will be finished training with Quentin and the horses.” Laudine slung her satchel of herbs over her shoulder, and grinned at Ulla. “I hope Ma?lys makes a delicious pottage with the pigeons from today’s hunt, with fresh rosemary and thyme from my verrière .”

****

The pigeon pottage was superb. The rich broth was full of carrots, mushrooms, leeks, and onions. The savory herbs perfectly enhanced the tender bits of poultry and the grainy oats. Ulla smiled as she watched Lukaz devour every last bite, sopping up the hearty soup with a large chunk of meslin bread. He licked his fingers, drank several gulps of watered ale, and fixed his large blue eyes on his watchful, bemused father.

“After the wedding, I’m going with you and Lady Ulla back to Finistère? We’ll be a family? And live together in le Chateau de Beaufort ?” Fragile hope illuminated his bright, eager face.

Seated beside his brother Gaultier at the table in the private solar, Cardin grinned at his young son. “That’s right. After the wedding, you, Ulla, and I will travel with Tonton Bastien and Tatie Gabrielle back to Finistère. I’m returning to my position as royal archer for King Guillemin, We’ll be riding home with the king—and four dozen royal knights from le Chateau de Beaufort .”

“Can I ride my palfrey all by myself? Master Quentin says I’m ready.” Lukaz raised his eyebrows, anxious to earn his father’s approval.

“You’ll be seven by then. Old enough to begin training to become a knight. Of course you can ride by yourself.” Cardin winked at Ulla as Lukaz lunged at him, wrapping his arms around his father’s corded neck.

“ Merci, Papa ! I can’t wait!” His face beaming with gratitude and relief, Lukaz hugged his father tight. “No one will ever call me a bastard again. Because you’ll be with me. And you’re my father.”

From opposite ends of the rectangular table, Esclados and Laudine smiled wistfully at their grandson just as the valet Jehan appeared in the doorway.

“Pardon the interruption, Lord Esclados, but a bevy of knights await at the castle gate. The leader has identified himself as Xabi Vazquez, from le Chateau de Montmarin in Biarritz. He claims to have an urgent message for Basati.” Jehan bowed his blond head respectfully in deference to his lord.

The three men at the table shot to their feet.

Esclados commanded the valet, “Allow them entry and prepare accommodations in the knights’ lodge. Have Quentin and Argant tend to the horses. Escort the knights into the castle. Serve them food and drink.” Brow furrowed in concern, he glanced at his two adult sons. “We’ll receive Xabi’s message in the Great Hall.”

“ Tout de suite, Monsieur . Right away, sir.” Jehan turned on his heels and rushed off to obey.

Desperation and dread warred in Cardin’s intense gaze as he spoke to Ulla and Laudine. “Please tuck Lukaz in bed for me.” He turned toward his son. “ Mamie will tell you a bedtime tale tonight. Papi, Gaultier, and I must meet these men. I’ll see you in the morning.” He hugged Lukaz, kissed Laudine, and whispered in Ulla’s ear, “I don’t want to alarm Lukaz, but it must be of vital importance for Xabi to ride all the way from Biarritz. I’ll come to the cottage as soon as I can.” When Esclados and Gaultier exited the solar, Cardin kissed her and disappeared out the door.

****

Fragrant evergreen boughs and garlands of holly and ivy adorned the huge mantel over the blazing fire which crackled in the enormous hearth. High above the tall stone walls and ogival windows of the castle, candlelight from four chandeliers suspended from the vaulted wooden ceiling illuminated the cavernous Great Hall.

Harried servants with platters of cold meats, cheese, bread, and ale scurried among the two dozen knights from Aquitaine seated at long trestle tables. As Cardin followed his father and older brother through the entrance into the vast chamber, he spotted the familiar armor and long dark hair of his best friend from Biarritz.

When Xabi rose from the table, wiping ale from his mouth, the dire expression on his heavily bearded face sent a ripple of dread through Cardin’s shaking limbs. He strode across the room, clasped Xabi in a bear hug, and introduced him to Esclados while Gaultier shook his fellow knight’s hand.

Cardin led his weary brother-at-arms to an empty table and motioned for a servant to bring more ale. When Esclados and Gaultier took their seats beside him, Cardin leaned forward to listen to his friend. “Tell me. What message do you bring from Biarritz?”

Xabi accepted a mug of ale from a castle servant and downed half the contents, as if summoning his courage. He set the goblet upon the table and fixed Cardin with an ominous stare. “Eztebe Ibarra is en route to Paris for the Yuletide signing of the Alliance with Aquitaine. He’ll stop along the way at le Chateau de Tours on the seventh of December. Where Andoni Zilar’s men plan to assassinate him… with your wolf head dagger. ”

Cardin shot an incredulous look at Gaultier. “Zilar’s men must have stolen it—the night of the robbery behind the Drunken Crow.”

Xabi nodded and drained the rest of his ale. He fetched a map from a belted pouch at his waist and unfurled it upon the table. With a fingertip, he traced a marked trail from Biarritz to Paris. “This was Ibarra’s intended route.” Xabi eyed Cardin and Gaultier, his expression grim. “He had planned to arrive at le Chateau de Tours on the seventh of December. But there’s heavy flooding along the Loire River to the west, which will force him east to Issoudun.” Xabi referred to a spot on the map. “He’ll have to stop here at La Tour Blanche . The White Tower. I expect Zilar’s men will ambush him there.”

Gaultier leaned back in his chair, folding long arms on his warrior chest. Battle readiness blazed in his stark, determined gaze. “Then we must get to Issoudun first, prevent the assassination, and deliver Ibarra safely to Paris.”

Cardin frowned, pensively rubbing a bristled cheek. “Zilar is allied with Edward Longshanks of England. If he assassinates Ibarra, he stops the treaty, eliminates the Alliance with Aquitaine, and undermines King Philippe of France.”

“And—with your dagger in Ibarra’s back—frames you for the assassination while he remains blameless in Biarritz.” Rage, disgust, and contempt distorted Gaultier’s scowling face.

Xabi summarized the urgency of their mission. “We need four days to reach Issoudun. To get there in time, we must leave tomorrow at dawn.”

Esclados rose to his feet and spoke to Xabi. “You’ve ridden hard from Biarritz. I’ll provide fresh horses for you and all of your men.” He turned to Cardin and Gaultier. “As First Knight, Montfort will remain here with me to defend Landuc. Assemble two dozen knights to accompany you to Issoudun, and gather the supplies you’ll need. I’ll have Quentin and Argant ready the horses.”

Gaultier stood, preparing to leave. He clasped Xabi by the shoulder. “Come, I’ll take you and your men to the knights’ lodge where you can sleep. In the morning, we’ll break our fast here in the Great Hall and depart at first light.”

While his brother rounded up the knights of Montmarin who had arrived with Xabi, Cardin spoke quietly to his old friend. “I won’t be returning with you to Biarritz after the holidays. I’m staying here with my son Lukaz. And my betrothed, Ulla.” He smirked at Xabi’s stunned expression. “I’m getting married here at Landuc—on Twelfth Night. I’d be honored if you’d come to the wedding.”

A wildly exuberant grin stretched across Xabi’s bearded, scarred face. “ Bai, Basati! Of course I’ll be there. I wish you could come to mine as well.” In spite of his heavy chain mail armor, Xabi wrapped an affectionate arm around Cardin’s shoulder. “Euri said yes. She and I will be married as soon as I return to Aquitaine.” With a deep rumble of laughter, he quipped, “Maybe Gaultier will be next. He’s fallen hard for Dolssa. And I know she’s smitten with him.”

Cardin scoffed. “You might be right. Maybe he will.” He exhaled and shook Xabi’s hand. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ve got to explain to Ulla that I’m leaving in the morning. It’ll be hard to say goodbye.”

Compassion shone in Xabi’s dark eyes. “ Bihar arte, Basati. See you tomorrow.” He clasped Cardin’s shoulder and joined the procession of knights following Gaultier out of the Great Hall.

“I’ll explain to your mother. I’ll tell her you and Gaultier will escort Ibarra to Paris and that—if all goes well—you’ll return in time for Lukaz’ birthday.” Esclados rested a comforting paternal hand on Cardin’s shoulder. “Go to Ulla. And, son…” he said, his deep voice quavering, “…rest assured that we’ll always take care of them for you.”

In case I don’t return from Issoudun. Cardin swallowed a tight lump of trepidation. “ Merci, mon père. Thank you.”

****

An owl hooted from his perch in a tall pine. Under the dim light of the waning moon, Cardin wove through the dense trees as he headed toward Ulla’s cottage. The warm scent of woodsmoke blanketed the cold night air.

At his knock, she unlatched and opened the front door.

Vill greeted him with a wagging tail and snuffling nose.

Cardin stepped into the welcoming room and scratched the wolf’s shaggy fur. He stretched to his full height, pulled Ulla into his arms, and kissed her softly. “That was my best friend Xabi who arrived from Biarritz.” He led her toward the wooden settee and settled her in front of the snapping fire. Cardin sat down by her side and took hold of her icy hand. He raised it to his dry lips. “I have to leave in the morning.”

She looked up at him like a startled doe, her wide eyes frozen in fear.

“Xabi rode hard from Aquitaine to inform me of a planned assassination of Comte Eztebe Ibarra, the lord he and I both served at le Chateau de Montmarin .” Cardin lowered his gaze to stare at her slender fingers, encircled protectively within his own. He brushed a thumb over her soft skin. “The assassins intend to kill Ibarra with my wolf head dagger—the one that was stolen from me in Biarritz—to make it appear as if I committed the murder.” He caressed Ulla’s beautiful, frightened face. “Xabi, Gaultier, and I must prevent the assassination. And deliver Ibarra safely to Paris for the signing of the Yuletide treaty, the Alliance with Aquitaine.”

Ulla lowered her head and showered kisses over his damp, shaking hands.

Cardin lifted her chin so she would look at him. Tears of anguish glimmered in her forlorn eyes.

“Three dozen of us—all highly skilled knights—will join Ibarra’s men. We’ll prevent the assassination, escort Ibarra to Paris, and return to Landuc before the Winter Solstice.” He cradled Ulla against his chest, stroking her wild mane of long black curls. “Tell Lukaz that I have to go to Paris but I’ll be home in time for his birthday.” He kissed her rose-scented hair. “Keep him busy with archery lessons and hunting. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Cardin rose from the settee and pulled Ulla to her feet. He brushed a wayward strand of hair from her terrified face. Parting her lips with a gentle tongue, he whispered into her open mouth. “Come to bed, my love. Let me bid you a proper farewell.”

In the silvery moonlight, they made love amongst the soft furs. Desperation fueling their passion, they clung fiercely to each other, tasting and touching, sharing bodies, hearts, and souls.

When Ulla clenched him tightly in climax, Cardin filled her with his love.

And prayed that he would return to wed the woman who had healed the Basque Wolf of Biarritz.

****

Wrapped in woolen cloaks against the icy December chill, Ulla stood with Lukaz and Laudine in front of le Chateau de Landuc, watching the bevy of knights prepare to depart.

Xabi and his men from Montmarin sat astride their impressive mounts. Cloudy puffs from the horses’ impatient snorts formed wisps in the frosty air.

Esclados assisted Quentin, Argant, and the stable hands with the packing of saddlebags and supplies, then strode across the courtyard to join Laudine at Lukaz’ side.

Ulla’s heart clenched as Cardin climbed into the saddle. He was magnificent. Dark hair cascaded from beneath his metal coif headpiece. Atop the fiery Friesian stallion, his chain mail armor glinted in the early morning sun. A gleaming sword and bouclier shield were belted on his left hip. His fine yew bow was securely strapped across his broad back. And the covered quiver of arrows was firmly attached to the leather saddle on his right.

Dear Goddess, please bring him back safely to us. Lukaz and I love and need him so very much. As does the child I now carry in my womb.

With a confident, dazzling smile, Cardin waved goodbye, fell in line with Gaultier and the knights of Landuc, and led the chivalrous cortège en route to Issoudun.

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