Chapter 36

H ector’s embrace was nearly too fierce, rebuke for endangering herself nearly too harsh, and fear over what happened in the market—as learned from a captured pirate—nearly too intense.

Thankfully, he turned his attention to Sir Achard to learn what transpired on the sea that was unknown to forces left in Ravenser, unlike what those forces undertook in their commander’s absence—interrogation of captured pirates that led to seizure of the ship anchored north of the estuary. Undoubtedly, King Edward would be pleased to add La Bonne Mort to his fleet alongside Vengeur.

While the physician had tended Amaury and Rémy in the cabin, Achard reported all beneath a sail angled to keep the setting sun from their eyes. Though Hector and Sinjin spoke only for clarification, their alarm over Rémy’s injury and threat to Fira’s life was obvious, as was grudging approval of Amaury yielding his liberty to free her, anger over keelhauling that fell short of execution, and pride over Rémy’s feat that should have been impossible in his state .

Now, the physician having stitched Rémy’s wound and determined Amaury’s injuries were fairly minor, Hector, Sinjin, Achard, and Fira were seated between Rémy in his hammock and Amaury who had traded his pallet for a chair. Once tense introductions were made and Amaury was assured Georges and Raoul were detained only as a precautionary measure after they delivered his missive, he answered questions with occasional interruptions of speech that most would not know evidenced his first head injury.

Next, he recounted what he had told Fira of the night he was taken at Calais when Sinjin and he first met, pausing to thank her brother-in-law for aiding the besieged and attempting to intercede when he was set upon by fellow foragers.

Sinjin expressed regret over misunderstanding the situation, the truth of which he was unable to discover due to the English patrol’s approach. Then with a slanted smile, he thanked Amaury for aiding him and the squires with Wulfen’s trespassers.

Letting that pass without comment, surely as it was he who drew the sea brigands there, he continued his tale of the night he thought life could not get much worse. Proven terribly wrong, he spoke briefly of what came before the keelhauling, little of that torment, and a bit of what followed—transportation half-senseless and half-alive to a quarry in Caen where he labored for years as one regarded more as property than as a man.

He told when finally he escaped, he spent months piecing together his shattered life, beginning with seeking his son and niece in Calais, recovering the wealth he hid, reestablishing ties with Richarde and Charles who became partners in his enterprise, tracking his son, and learning from Lady Eugénie D’Argent his niece had taken Mace to the Wulfriths .

After revealing he had been the secret informant who exposed Calais’ Les Fléaux infiltrators, he looked to Fira as if to alert her he had arrived at the place he left off when Orion’s Song was set afire.

“Amaury?”

Disconcerted by how fatigued he was that was nothing compared to the last time he was in Gert’s power, Amaury returned Fira to focus as she rose from beside her eldest brother.

“Can you continue?” she asked, stepping forward and touching his rope-burned wrist.

Certain the others disapproved of her familiarity and questioned its extent, he drew his hand from beneath hers and saw hurt streak her eyes. “I am but thirsty, Lady Fira.” He raised his wineskin and wet his mouth.

Disconcertingly, she was still at his side when he resumed his tale. “Having earlier sent Charles across the channel to make arrangements for our ships, I stayed behind in Calais with Richarde to expose the last infiltrators. Though depriving Gert of those men was the first step in avenging myself, there was satisfaction in it benefitting the country that had become my son’s, just as it must become mine since the loss of the King of France’s most valued privateer could be traced to me.” He frowned. “Except for Hugh who escaped imprisonment during King Jean’s failed attempt to reclaim Calais, those men were lost to Les Fléaux. As you know, your brother was in Calais at that time, Baron.”

“Aye, Warin aided in the town’s defense and made preparations for his wife to be aboard a ship delivering women and children across the channel lest Calais was lost.”

Amaury glanced at Fira. “Richarde having secured the last crew position on the ship and smuggled my remaining wealth aboard, deception was required for me to join him. Fortunately, his cousin was a boatman. For a few coins, I became a rower transporting passengers to the ship. For a few more, he engaged in an argument that saw me knocked over the side.”

“And drowned, as told by Lady Vianne who was present,” Fira said. “As she became a Wulfrith in wedding Warin, I recorded it in our family’s chronicle.”

Knowing the entry would have to be corrected, Amaury almost smiled. “She was seated near me when your brother brought her to the dock. We exchanged a few words, and I did my best to affect an English accent.”

“And became proficient this past year,” she said.

This time he did smile. “With more practice.”

Fira clasped her hands at her waist. “Lady Vianne was appalled you were left to drown.”

“As it had to appear since the English set a close watch on the harbor lest the French try to capture departing women and children and use them to force the surrender of Calais. Since I could swim well, I made it to the ship before it sailed, and Richarde got me up the ladder. During the crossing, I stayed out of sight lest passengers who witnessed what they were to believe my drowning recognize me. It was a good crossing, and soon Richarde and I reunited with Charles who had done much to establish our company in England. Once we determined Boston’s port would position us reasonably near Gert’s Scottish base, we secured offices and hired more crew beyond those who served under me when I was Le Fléau.”

“You took a chance on Pietro,” Fira said since he had revealed to those here the one formerly Gert’s side had saved Amaury from the worst of the keelhauling.

“I have no cause to regret it.” He shifted to Achard. “Giving him command of The Pleiades to pursue Hugh was a good decision. He is loyal, knows the sea and the wind, and being versed in the ways of the pirate will use them against Les Fléaux. If Hugh’s ship can be prevented from reaching Scotland, he is likeliest to see it done.”

The king’s man considered that, then said, “You have much faith in your men to have left the company in their hands when you came to Wulfenshire.”

Recalling his recent doubts and fear of betrayal, he said, “I trust Richarde and Charles, though not as much as I should have when I yielded to the longing to be near my son and relied on reports delivered infrequently to avoid drawing attention. It was a risk since the company could have been destroyed by a single betrayal—or a mistake like that when Richarde was followed to the barony for Hugh suspecting I was behind The Great Mercia Shipping Company. Obviously, just as I had men searching for Les Fléaux in Boston, Gert had them searching for me.”

The baron sat forward. “Thus, for my sister stealing out of the castle and encountering a stranger in the wood, she was entangled in their attempt to seize you.”

Before Amaury could answer, she said, “Not entirely a stranger.”

Her brother’s face darkened. “You met him there before?”

“Not there—last summer upon Woodhearst.”

“Explain!”

She faced him fully. “Warin told you of my search for ruins and, when I returned to the castle disarrayed, his fear that ill had befallen me.”

“Aye.”

“Something did happen, Hector,” she spoke his Christian name as not previously done in Amaury’s presence, “but the worst this chevalier did was deceive me into believing he was a villager of bent back and bad leg.” She drew a strident breath. “My disarray was caused by The Falling Sickness after I encountered an adder, which could have been the end of me had Ondine’s owl not appeared and snatched it up. I departed the ruins but did not make it far before I lost all sense. When Amaury found me, he believed I suffered hysteria over ravishment. After he got me upright, he followed me to Romary Castle to ensure my safety.”

“Then the soldier on the wall who reported glimpsing a man in the bordering wood was not seeing things,” her youngest brother joined the discussion.

Amaury looked to Rémy who, while they were alone in the cabin, had been silent by way of rest, introspection, and occasional consideration of the one responsible for his sister going missing. “He was not seeing things, Squire,” he said, and looked back at the baron. “Now I have questions though they may be relevant only as far as salving curiosity.”

“Ask,” Hector Wulfrith prompted.

“Having learned Les Fléaux intercepted my first missive summoning you to come for Lady Fira in Boston, which led to their attempt to abduct her, and the second missive having no time to reach you, how did you know where to search for her?”

“I will answer if you allow it, Baron,” Sir Sinjin said and received a nod. “The brigand you put down while aiding our patrol lived a short time. Accepting he was dying, he revealed he and others followed Richarde to see if he led to someone of much interest to Gert. When it was proven, they decided to take you once you were alone. After Richarde and you parted, they captured him, and when they came for you, found you with a fiery-haired woman whose mount aided in your escape. They gave chase, and when you assisted our patrol, you were recognized as a miner we later learned had not returned to the lodge. The last thing told by the brigand who did not know your true identity or held it close, was where to find Les Fléaux in Boston. Hence, it followed we should search for Lady Fira there. ”

He uncapped his skin and drank. “The day we arrived in Boston, we surveilled the Les Fléaux hideout, and I recognized a man nearby as one of the Wulfen brigands. We followed him to a warehouse whose name beneath windows with a view on the harbor proclaimed it The Great Mercia Shipping Company.”

Amaury tensed.

“When he worked the lock on a side door and slipped in, the baron and I followed and found him upstairs at a door listening to those within. What sent him scuttling was a shift of weight that made the stairs beneath us creak. As he had nowhere to go, I caught him as the office door was wrenched open by one who gave the name of Charles after we dragged the pirate inside. There was another there I thought familiar—he who had been over the back of a horse belonging to one of Wulfen’s trespassers.”

Amaury inclined his head. “Richarde.”

“Whom you recovered,” Fira said.

“With your aid, Lady.” Seeing her stiffen at the reminder she had more than distracted their pursuer, he rebuked himself though her thoughts had to have been near that path.

“We will return to the part my sister played,” the baron said. “Continue, Sir Sinjin.”

“Once we identified ourselves, told we searched for the man who fled Wulfen with Lady Fira, and how we came to track the spy who led us to the warehouse, Richarde revealed our captive’s name. It was then Herman began to spill, telling the captain he served long ago brought the lady to Boston, secured a room for her at an inn, and when she went to market, he and others followed so they might seize her.”

As Fira stiffened further, he looked to her. “Herman said they had almost overtaken you when you fell and writhed as if possessed by the devil, drawing a crowd that included men of God. To their disappointment, a deputy took charge and delivered you to St. John’s. When Herman gleefully told you had died, your brother did not take that well.”

He turned his attention upon Amaury. “Charles revealed the identity of their partner and told you had tracked the lady to the hospital and learned she disappeared from the infirmary. Believing Les Fléaux responsible, you set out to recover her. Charles and Richarde said they knew no more, and as instructed while awaiting word from you, proceeded with transportation of cargo to Scotland that would include a stop in Grimsby.”

“We took Herman with us,” Hector Wulfrith picked up the tale, “and after confirming the ships had departed, went to the inn where you stayed, Fira, and spoke with a woman named Alice.”

“She was kind to me.”

He nodded. “Though cautious during questioning, she said you were a guest, told of your disappearance, then gave me your few possessions, including the archery bag that held only a quiver.” He narrowed his eyes. “What became of your bow?”

She squared her shoulders, then told that to which he said they would return, ending with, “Though I but meant to injure the brigand pursuing Amaury and Richarde, I misjudged the distance.”

“Lord,” her youngest brother rasped.

Fira replenished her breath. “Having killed a man and unable to look upon the instrument of his death, I dropped it. And likely there it remains as I thought it should though…”

“Though?” Hector Wulfrith prompted.

“The bow I treasured for Rémy lovingly crafting it for me was not to fault.”

“You are right, Fira. Becoming the bringer of death unsettles the heart and soul as it should, but that does not mean we abandon what is associated with it. Once we have spent time at prayer and are strong again, we face those things and decide whether to go forward with them or without them.”

After a time, she said, “Your wisdom is appreciated.”

“I am glad. Now tell how you disappeared from the hospital and the chevalier retrieved you.” He angled his head at her chair. “Sit beside me.”

She shook her head. “If I must live it again, I shall do so standing beside the man who delivered me.”

His brow furrowed. “More than delivered, hmm?”

Though Amaury thought he alluded to inappropriate behavior—and there was some that could have wholly compromised her had he not bodily control despite the number of years intimacy was denied him—he held the gaze that landed on him.

Something rumbled about the baron’s throat, then he looked to his sister. “Be assured, I show this distant kin much grace for taking responsibility for actions that pushed you along this path.” He raised a staying hand as if anticipating protest. “I need no reminder you first set yourself on it.”

Clasping her hands before her, Fira began with the lawman conveying her to the hospital and assuring her the men of medicine would restore her. At the outset, she provided enough detail to fill small holes alongside large, but as if noting fire in eyes, convulsing jaws, and white-knuckled fists, she began summarizing as was best for Amaury’s emotions as well though nearly all was known to him. Too, she also held close their intimacies.

Of the few comments and mutterings, the loudest was from Squire Rémy over the attempt to cast out her demon. Without stammer, he railed against Drumfiddle and others who disguised themselves as men of God, then proclaimed if any was demon-possessed it was them .

When the baron sharply spoke his brother’s name, it quieted him—until his sister told what followed that nearly ended in her being burned alive. Then he cursed, groaned, and groped at his back.

Ignoring his claim he but ached, Fira confirmed his stitches held before finishing her tale and ending with, “’Tis that from which Chevalier Amaury saved me. So now the question of when he and his long-lost son may reunite.”

The baron and the king’s man were slow to respond as if needing to calm their roiling, then the former said, “No easy thing since these events cannot be concealed from the king.”

“Even were it possible to conceal them, they ought not be,” Sir Achard said. “Just as Les Fléaux has become known to our sovereign, Le Fléau is not forgotten.”

“But perhaps once King Edward learns of what Amaury did to end the threat to our shipping, forgiveness will be granted,” Fira entreated. “If you and the Wulfriths stand with him?—”

“If any pleads my case, it will be me,” Amaury spoke over her. “ I who answer to charges…levied against me.”

“If any pleads your case?” Squire Rémy said accusingly. “Might you consider fleeing England and taking another name as your ancestor did to?—?”

“Rémy!” Fira rebuked.

Though Amaury knew the squire merely expressed anger toward one whose actions placed his sister in mortal danger, for what sounded an insult to Ma?l d’Argent, he said, “My ancestor was no coward. He sought to protect the woman he loved whose threat to King William’s reign would have seen her imprisoned the remainder of her life—were she allowed to live. Had he retained his surname when they wed, she could have been tracked across Europe and, were she taken, my line would not exist.”

Head throbbing again, he continued, “As for resorting to the same, I came to England to reclaim my son. That I have yet to do. I sought to eliminate the threat Les Fléaux could present to him and avenge myself. That I have achieved in good part with Gert’s death. I wished a means of supporting my son and myself were I to remain in England. That proceeds apace with my partners, Charles and Richarde. So, young Wulfrith, though I did not express well my intention of answering to your king for past grievances, consider it rectified.”

The hard in the squire’s eyes easing, he looked to Fira. “I know you, Sister—that you feel much for this man of years beyond your own, perhaps enough that if he asked you to b-be his Mercia, you would allow him to take you from England.”

As Amaury’s chest tightened, she said, “It would hurt to leave my family, but if he loved me as I come to love him, I believe I would.”

God’s rood, eyes, and teeth! Amaury silently appealed. If there is a time and place for this, it is not now lacking the king’s pardon. Nor is it here in the midst of her kin who have reason to suspect I did more than deliver her from harm.

The baron stood abruptly, tempting Amaury to rise to remain eye to eye with the man who likely had as many years as he and whose dark hair was similarly silvered. “’Tis clear much passed between you and my sister, Chevalier. Now answer truthfully as to how much less virtuous Lady Fira is from when first you met.”

“Hector!” She stepped forward.

Again, he raised a hand. “It being my responsibility to provide for you, ensure your safety, and arrange a good future, I will have my answer from one who is a stranger to me regardless of being descended from the D’Argents and esteemed by my lady wife.” Once more, he indicated her vacated chair, this time leaving no room to decline.

When still she hesitated, Amaury said, “Go, Lady. ”

She looked around. Though her moist eyes evidenced she struggled with her emotions, she stepped forward and lowered.

Amaury met the baron’s gaze. “As must be obvious, I had good reasons to resist attraction to your sister, foremost the dark of my past that may haunt me to my end days. For how fine and lovely she is and closely we have been in each other’s company, I failed. But though I yielded to liberties I should not have, I did not compromise the maiden of her.” He shifted to Fira. “As for the love you profess, I am honored and admit I feel for you, but even if my life comes right, it may be better for us both to look elsewhere.”

She did not strike out as many women would upon learning their love is not returned, instead asked, “Because of my seizures many believe proof of evil?”

“Non, Fira!” he eschewed her title. “I know you are strong enough to battle and batter your affliction, but as told?—”

“Do you fear the fate of children I might bear? If so, know I am not set on bearing babes lest I pass what was passed to me. Since I care much for Mace, he would be child enough.”

“Fira, you should not allow your ailment to stop you from having children,” the baron said, “just as neither did our sire and his courageous wife. Though they knew her affliction could be passed, they held to the Lord, and their love was manifested in Ondine, Rémy, and you.”

“And my mother’s terrible sickness was manifested in me, Hector.”

His brow furrowed. “Not so terrible you wish yourself not born, do you?”

She hesitated. “I hate what lurks within, perhaps more than Rémy does his snagged speech and Ondine her scarred beauty, but…I treasure the life breathed into me.”

The baron’s smile restoring some of his youth Amaury doubted he himself could recover, he set a hand over his sister’s. “Much loved by your family, you are strong. Though I cannot know what man is worthy of you, I know the Lord would not have you lose faith in His ability and willingness to raise beauty out of ashes, just as He did in replacing the mother I lost and giving me more siblings.”

She choked back a sob. “I am ashamed at how quickly I diminish the Lord’s blessings and withdraw my trust when faced with trials. And more so for how many prayers He answered this day.” She shifted to Amaury. “It would be best did I not love you.”

“So it would, Fira, though only because I am dark whereas you are light.”

“You are no longer so dark, just as I am no longer so light,” she was quick to respond, then said, “For all that is to come of which we do not know, this is not the time to discuss if our lives will cross in future and how closely. However, lest we end here, I leave you with this—I know my heart, Amaury. If ever again you know yours well and find me there, mayhap it will not be too late.” She stood. “Now I would like to take the night air.”

They let her go, and when she went from sight, Hector Wulfrith said, “Since ’tis for our king to determine when the time is right to discuss your future and Fira’s, we leave this be for now.”

“As well as the matter of my son,” Amaury said. “Though I ache for our reunion, unless I am pardoned, I think it best I remain dead to him.”

The baron nodded. “Be comforted in knowing my wife yet possesses your letter and the De Chanson treasures she is to give to Mace when he is older.”

“I owe her much,” Amaury said.

Hector Wulfrith stood, followed by the king’s man and Sir Sinjin. “Since we depart at dawn to return my sister and brother to Wulfenshire and arrange for your escort to London, we leave you and Rémy to your rest.”

As they moved to the steps, heads bent to avoid the low ceiling, Amaury called, “Do you make my niece happy?”

The baron looked around. “I pray at least as happy as she makes me,” he said, then Amaury was left with the squire who retreated inside himself until an hour after evening viands were delivered.

“If you have the chance to make my sister happier than she makes you, do not fail, De Chanson,” the young man said. “As told, she is much loved by the Wulfriths.”

It was a threat, but Amaury let it pass knowing he would do the same were their circumstances reversed.

Returning to his pallet, he closed his eyes and, ahead of sleep that might drop him into violent dreams despite Gert’s death, sent heavenward, Let me know my heart well again, Lord. And if I can make Fira at least as happy as she makes me, give me a chance to prove it. Let it not be too late.