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The Bishop of Albi, ever political, speculates, “Won’t that create more problems than it solves?”
“Only if we let it go on indefinitely. I am merely suggesting we use it as leverage to get the queen to renounce her irregular religious practices. The French crown cannot be tainted with such things.”
“And if she renounces the Nine, the convent of assassins will not be a tool in her arsenal, one that could be used against you.” Cassel’s deep voice is easy to recognize.
I wait for one of them to point out that the queen—that we—would never do that—but no one does.
Chapter 13
Aeva
The sun is low in the sky by the time we finally reach the cave. Less than an hour until nightfall. Beast leaves me to scout out our shelter and wheels his horse around to ride back to see how close the search party is. Despite my earlier teasing, he is quick for one who is the size of a standing stone. And quiet.
“What is wrong?” The young wasp rides in front of me, her eyes nearly as sharp as her tongue. Even when alarmed, she manages to keep her voice low.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are we stopping?”
“So that we and the horses may rest.”
“You don’t need a rest,” she points out.
“No, but I am not the only one here.”
“It is because of Louise, isn’t it?” She glares at her younger sister, who rides comfortably nestled in the arms of the little gray dove, Tephanie, and blinks in surprise at the attack.
“Quit grumbling at Louise.” My voice is clipped. “Else I will tell her that you were complaining that the saddle was making your bottom sore mere minutes ago.”
The wasp’s mouth snaps shut, and she glowers at me. “You just told her.”
“Ah, so I did. Next time you’d best keep your grumbling to yourself so I do not slip again.” I dismount, leaving her to glare at me from atop Divona, and go investigate the cave.
It is perfect for our purposes—large enough that four men can ride in abreast and deep enough that all of us—plus our mounts—can sleep in comfort. Those of us who will be getting some sleep, that is. We will need to post a watch.
I motion to Tola. “Get the others into the cave,” I tell her quietly. “Far in the back. There is an opening there. Too small for horses to pass through, but large enough for us to get out with the girls if we need to.”
“Something is wrong,” the wasp says, looking smug with victory.
“I wouldn’t look so pleased about it if I were you.” Tola lifts the younger girl off the horse. As she lowers her to the ground, she says softly, “And be mindful of your words lest you frighten Louise unnecessarily.”
“But if something is wrong, it wouldn’t be unnecessary.”
Boar’s tits! Could this girl child be any more mulish? “Charlotte.” My use of her given name catches her full attention, and I hand her Divona’s reins. “I am putting you in charge of Divona, but I need to know you will give her your full attention. She does not like dark, enclosed spaces and will need your firm and guiding hand. Can you do that?”
With her eyes wide and her mouth shut for once, she nods and reverently takes the reins. She longs to ask me what I am going to do—but I look pointedly at the horse, and the question fades.
“This way,” Tola says.
Long before I expect him to, Beast comes galloping back. As he swings off his horse, the wind shifts and I catch the scent of horses, sweat, and iron. They are closer.
“A quarter hour out,” he mutters tersely. “Where are the girls?”
“Already in the cave, with Tephanie and Tola.” I tell him about the back opening I found, in case we need to get away. I take in his considerable bulk. “I do not think you will fit through it. The other men, maybe. But not you.”
He bares his teeth in what he thinks is a grin but is more like a rictus of death. “I do not plan to. If it comes to that, the men and I will make a stand here at the entrance while you and the others slip out. Our posted rear scouts can pick off any who try to follow you.” The weight of his resolve is as unmovable as the cave beside us.
“What should I do with them?”
“Get them to the convent.” I barely recognize the note of bleakness in his voice before he swings around and begins issuing orders to the men.
That bleakness has me kissing my fingers and pressing them against the wall of the cave, begging Dea Matrona and Arduinna to hold us in their protection.
By the time I reach Tola and the others, the coil of tension that permeates the air is unmistakable. The little one huddles in the dove’s lap. The dove’s hand trembles as she calmly strokes the child’s back, murmuring words of comfort.
The wasp is gripping Divona’s reins in her left hand, so tightly that her knuckles are white. In her right she holds the knife that Sybella gave her. It is pointless to tell them everything will be fine when we can hear the search party’s hooves thudding on the forest floor, shaking the very ground beneath our feet. I give the wasp a nod of approval instead.
One of the men near the front of the cave spits, another coughs, and the hooves grow louder, closer, accompanied now by the squeak of leather and the jingle of tack.
A voice, sounding far away because of the thickness of the cave walls, calls out, “Over there! A cave!”
Another voice calls back. “This will be the last one for the day. We’re almost out of light.”
The direction of the horses shifts so that they head directly for us, then come to a stop. The cave rings with the silence that follows, broken by a creak of leather as someone hoists himself out of a saddle.
Tola looks at me. I point at her, then the opening, then hold my palm out flat. She is to go first, but not until I give the signal.
My heart beats faster in both anticipation and excitement. If not for the girls and Tephanie, I would relish this skirmish. After weeks cooped up at the French court, I am hungry for a fight.
In the fading light that just reaches the cave, Beast looks at me over his shoulder and nods.
I lift my bow and draw an arrow, calculating a path that will allow me to pick off the first men in without hitting Beast or the queen’s guar
d. Before I can give Tola the signal, a hunting horn sounds, and a new rider comes galloping into the clearing, eliciting curses and mutters from the French.
“Where’s your captain?” a voice shouts over the others.
“I am here,” a deep voice answers.
“The search has been called off,” the messenger calls out. “They’ve found something.”
The men whoop, and the captain says, “You heard him! Mount up and ride out.”
It is not until I hear the last of them ride away that I finally lower my bow.
Chapter 14
Sybella
As I prepare the queen’s morning tonic, I try to decide how much I should share with her from yesterday’s audience with the king. If they are truly considering appealing to the Church to have the Nine declared heretical, she will need to be informed. And while she should know their claims that following the Nine divides her loyalty, I’m not sure that would do more than make her angry.
“Well, are you going to ask me?”
I glance up from the pestle I’m using to grind the cardamom to find her watching me, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Ask you what?”
“How my meeting with Genevieve went.”
Merde. News of the search party had driven all of that from my mind. “Of course I am curious, Your Majesty, but it also struck me as a somewhat personal conversation.”
She waves her hand. “I have no privacy. You know that.”
As if to prove her point, there is a sharp pounding on the door before it is thrust open and Captain Stuart strides in, followed by a half dozen soldiers.
“What is the meaning of this?” the queen demands.
Captain Stuart bows. “I beseech Your Majesty’s forgiveness, but I am here on orders of the king.” The queen stares at him, disbelief writ plain on her face. Ignoring her, he motions his men forward. “Lady Sybella, you are to come with us.”
My heart sinks. I do not know what this means, but surely something dire. Have they found Beast and the girls?
“All seven of you are needed to escort her?” the queen asks waspishly.
