Pawns and Queens--A 15th Century Gwynedd Story--Chapter Twenty-Five

[Evie]

Previous chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3248.0.html


Chapter Twenty-Five

August 16, 1464
The Duke of Carthmoor's quarters
The City of Ramos
Late evening

Prince Nicholas was back in the lodgings his quartermaster had secured for him in Ramos, feeling almost a sense of relief at being back in the war zone. A twinge of guilt followed directly on the heels of that thought, for it was not as if he hadn't enjoyed having a couple of days to spend with his family, and after the initial shock of his arrival on top of everything else that had happened, Catalina had seemed truly delighted and grateful that he had remembered her birthday. Finding Melisande at Rhemuth had been a shock, especially once he had learned how close she and his daughters had come to being captured, but as relieved as he was to see that they were safe, there had also been no little awkwardness about their reunion.

He'd felt as if he'd been given some sort of test, one that hadn't been announced beforehand, and one which he had no idea how he would be scored on. At first he couldn't figure out why he had felt that way, but by the second day of his visit, he remembered what he had told Mellie months earlier, when he'd first returned to her after marrying Catalina.

He had told her that he had promised not to return to her bed until his wife was bearing an heir. Well, that condition had been met now. On the other hand, he had also promised Catalina he would not return to Melisande's bed at least until the war was over, due to the risks of dying on the battlefield unshriven, since the Church would consider him resuming his relations with Mellie to be adultery, a mortal sin. And he had been as faithful as he could be under the circumstances in seeking out a confessor regularly and partaking in the sacraments since their wedding. But at the time he'd made that promise to his wife, he had still somehow thought he would someday be able to go back to how things had been originally, only somehow with his marriage still intact.

He now realized he'd been an idiot. What was more, he suspected Mellie had known all along that things would never be the same between them even if the rest of their world returned to normal. Holding Mellie in his arms had felt like saying goodbye, only the actual words hadn't been spoken yet, neither one of them quite knowing what to say. He still felt a quiet yearning for her, but it seemed more like the wistful remembrance of a loss after the full course of grief had already run. It felt strange, mourning the loss of a woman who was still very much alive and well, and possibly even still available to him, if he wished to risk his future in order to cling to his past. But holding Catalina reminded him that's not what he wanted anymore.

He hurt inside, yet this time it felt manageable, even if he still hadn't quite worked out what to say to Melisande once the war was over, assuming he survived it, that would be the least hurtful way to acknowledge what they both already knew. Nor did he know how he would manage to explain it to their children.

There was a rap on the door. Sebastian went to answer it, returning almost immediately to announce Devyn McLain's arrival. Grateful for the interruption of his melancholy thoughts, he beckoned his old friend into the room.

"Welcome back," Dev said, taking the seat that Nicholas waved him toward. "I see you've finally managed to wrest yourself away from your bonnie bride. I trust she's faring well?"

"Quite well. And also pregnant." Nicholas grinned.

"Is she now?" Devyn grinned back. "Congratulations! Cinhil must be nearly as thrilled by the news. I assume you've told him?"

"She'd already done so, yes. Apparently Camber had tried to reach me earlier to see if he could trade places with me so she could tell me in person, but we were on the move to come here at the time, then by the time we'd settled in and had access to another Portal, he'd already been sent into Travlum." Nicholas studied his childhood friend, wondering what Dev was working up to. He felt certain the man wasn't calling at this late hour just to inquire about the birthday of a woman he barely knew, even if that woman was Colin's wife. "So, what brings you here from Valoret at this hour?"

Devyn frowned, leaning back into his chair and studying some invisible spot on the floor. "Valoret is a fair-sized city, but it's a little too small for two McLains right now, I think. At least if one of them is me and the other is the Duke my father."

The prince sighed. "Cassan's still nursing his grudge?"

Dev shrugged. "He says he's willing to let bygones be bygones. But he still seems to believe that I tried to seduce his pretty young wife."

Colin raised a brow at that. "Despite Truth-Reading you? How does he explain the discrepancies between what she claims and what your answers to his questions told him?"

"Oh, he acknowledges I've answered all his questions truthfully; he just seems equally convinced he's not asked the right questions yet. My brother Kierney thinks Da is just so besotted by Arabella and convinced he's found a second chance at a love match, he can't wrap his mind around the idea that she's not as enamored with him as he is with her. And also that he hasn't bothered with truly questioning her, at least not while Truth-Reading, doubtless because he's worried about what he might learn, though he's masked that under the guise of not wanting to hurt his bride's tender feelings by giving her cause to think he doesn't trust her word. Apparently finding herself in my bed at the opposite end of the Long Gallery from my father's bedchamber was the sort of innocent mistake anyone could have made while trying to find her way around a new home."

"Considering that you walked into your bedchamber to find her in your bed in a room that looks nothing like your father's, wearing nothing but your bedsheet and a welcoming smile, I'd have to say that's a fairly good sign she's not the faithful sort! And given that happened a mere three weeks after her wedding to your father, I would imagine she never intended to be. Surely that's at least grounds for an annulment, if not an execution!"

"Probably. Your brother Camber would know that better than I would. But Da prefers to believe Arabella, because perish the thought that his happy marriage might be built upon a lie, so that means I'm off again to seek my fortunes elsewhere. I ought to be getting on with the other part of the job Cinhil asked me to do anyhow. If you'll permit, I'll be heading for Rhemuth tomorrow morning, then across the Southern Sea once I've reported to Cinhil."

Colin frowned. "Be careful. Rémy's forces have moved much closer to Rhemuth now, though Camber and Philippe have been sent to push them back north and to the other side of the Eirian. Your best route might be the most direct one, riding as the crow flies and not following the river, or you could go south towards the Molling and then cut west. Or better yet, use the Portal."

Devyn grinned. "Getting my horse through the Portal might be a bit tricky. The Molling route might be safest, but less likely to yield the best intel to bring back to Cinhil. Though point taken; I'll be careful."

#

August 16, 1464
Candor Rhea
The Duke of Carthmoor's hunting lodge
Late evening

He was too late. They were already gone.

Prince Rémy scowled as he walked through the rooms of the empty hunting lodge. When his men had raided the village of Candor Rhea a few days earlier, they had made the very interesting discovery that this particular lodge situated on a hill above the village was the property of Prince Nicholas, the Duke of Carthmoor, and that he kept his favorite bed warmer and his bastard children here. They would have made wonderful prizes, if only he'd found the place in time. He would have quite enjoyed trying the woman out for himself, to find out what the Prince saw in her that would make him want to keep her around for ten long years. Clearly such a paramour must be both very beautiful and highly talented, and he would enjoy claiming Nicholas of Gwynedd's woman, though the missing paramour wasn't the woman Rémy was most interested in claiming from the Prince. No, it was the spirited Catalina of Andelon who he most desired to put in her proper place, and who he intended to claim for himself once Rhemuth fell. She had humiliated him by rejecting his proposal after he'd done her the great honor of courting her and had even had their wedding banns cried out in the market square. Before he had met Haakon, he had dreamed of the day he took his vengeance on her, entertaining thoughts of such pleasurable acts of revenge as having her polish his boots with her tongue after he took a stroll through the muck of the palace stables, but now he realized his previous fantasies had lacked imagination. The idea of a public consummation of their wedding had a lot of merit; not only would that ensure far more than the necessary number of witnesses to verify the legality of their vows, but it would also be the ultimate way to put the arrogant bitch in her place and teach her who was her master. Only he wouldn't bother with the wards or all the unnecessary bloodshed. He needed the Prince's Deryni bitch to breed his future sons on. The future Kings of Joux would be invincible with such a dam.

As for Prince Nicholas's baseborn children, he had no use for those, but his men might have enjoyed a little sport as well. Or they might have made valuable hostages. Some men were weak enough to have tender feelings towards their daughters, after all. Perhaps he could have forced the Duke's surrender just by threatening to ride his little darlings, although personally Rémy preferred to wait until a female had developed womanly curves.

One such womanly female was still outside, waiting to be lifted off his horse. He glanced out the window at his lieutenant, nodding to let him know he could go ahead and send her inside. He watched as the Jouvian officer assisted the pretty blonde in dismounting, seeing her wince as her foot landed on the ground. She had twisted her ankle in an attempt to flee a week earlier, forcing him to place her under a compulsion to remain within a hundred yards of him at all times in order to prevent further escape attempts while still allowing her sufficient range to do the various household chores he required of her aside from being available to him at night. Rémy supposed he could replace her with another woman easily enough, but he had sentimental feelings towards this one, since she had been Haakon's thoughtful gift to him, a lovely souvenir of their visit to the village of Woodbury-on-Cleyde.

He turned away from the window, starting back through the room towards the stairs when an open bag half stuffed with clothing caught his eye. Maybe the Prince's woman had left something of value behind in her haste to flee Candor Rhea. A flash of color at the top of the folded clothing caught his eye, some ornamental bit of trim or ribbon that drew him to look at it more closely.

He tried to lift it, finding it pinned to a thin chemise underneath. The ribbon tingled under his touch. Curious, he closed his eyes, attempting to discern what sort of magic permeated the embroidered token.

Interesting. It seemed to be a charm against death in childbirth, as far as he could tell. Rémy lifted the garment out of the bag, shaking out its folds and holding it up to check the size. Had the Prince's woman been breeding again? It was of little matter if she was; such a child would not be the long-awaited Gwyneddan heir in any case, though that just increased Rémy's frustration at not arriving in time to secure such a valuable prize.

The chemise might serve for Lucie, though. She was carrying his child. Normally it wouldn't matter to him too much whether one of his women survived her attempt to birth his child or not, but since she'd been a gift, he might as well take a little more care with her. He spread it out on the bed for her to find.

His lieutenant the Comte D'Aubergy entered along with Lucie, the latter glaring daggers at him, much to his amusement. He liked them spirited. Rémy pointed towards the bed. "I found a gift for you. Try it on."

It was obvious she didn't wish to, at least not with his lieutenant still in the room, but she was under a compulsion to obey, so she turned her back to them as she undressed with jerky motions. His lieutenant was clearly distracted by some new discovery, though, and barely spared a glance at the woman, which took a little of the fun out, though Rémy perked with interest at this latest report.

"Votre Altesse, I found the Duc de Guion's body in the stable. It looks like he was cut down from behind by someone wielding a sword, perhaps caught unawares while attempting to stop the escapees. And there are signs there might have been a scuffle. Our quarry might be injured."

The loss of the Duc was annoying. Surely Carthmoor's woman hadn't killed the man? No, not with a sword; that would take a man's strength and skill, which meant the woman must have had help. But from whom? Maybe the Prince's leman had been cuckolding him. Rémy tried to imagine a pregnant woman and two young girls attempting to escape stealthily through the dense forest surrounding the lodge, with or without a man or a horse, since they'd left a dead man in the stable. No, the only likely way out would have been down the dirt road they had taken from the village to arrive here at this isolated hunting lodge, and he'd had men watching the other end of that trail since their arrival in Candor Rhea.

Unless perhaps there was a Portal on the premises? Yes, that would make sense. The Prince would certainly have installed one for his convenience, rather than riding back and forth between the lodge and Rhemuth.

"I'll investigate in the morning when we have better light," Rémy said. "Give the Duc a decent burial, or if you can't find a shovel, then just drag him out into the woods somewhere and leave him somewhere downwind where we won't have to smell him from up here. Then you can bunk down in the sitting room below."

#

August 25, 1464
Candor Rhea
Late Night

Devyn McLain approached the outskirts of Candor Rhea with great caution. If he'd had any sense, he would have turned his horse around several miles back, when he'd begun to see the unmistakable signs that the village had already fallen to the enemy. But thinking back on Colin's words of caution several evenings previously, he recalled his friend warning him that the enemy had ventured close to Rhemuth and that the lands next to the Eirian were best avoided, but nothing in that warning made Devyn absolutely certain that Colin or Cinhil knew how close to Rhemuth they had encroached, and Candor Rhea was alarmingly close to the City. Therefore, Devyn also didn't know if Melisande and her children had managed to escape in time. So he could not in good conscience simply bypass the area without first ensuring they were no longer at the hunting lodge, or if they were, without attempting to help them escape. Colin was not simply his prince, he was his longtime friend, and Devyn had known Mellie almost as long also. He'd even fancied her once upon a time, spellbound by her graceful beauty as she had suddenly blossomed almost overnight from a gawky girl into young womanhood, but that was nearly half a lifetime ago, and she'd never had eyes for anyone but Colin even then.

So here he was, venturing where angels feared to tread, hoping the old maxim was true that God protected fools like him. At least he was not breaking his promise. He was doing his utmost to be careful, because one small slip or moment of inattention now could spell his doom.

Years of working as an intelligencer, as well as simply as a traveling jongleur seeking to avoid bandits or other perils on the road, had taught him the art of blending into his surroundings and appearing unremarkable and unobtrusive as he passed from town to town. Being Deryni was an asset in that regard, lending him additional concealment, although that required a certain amount of focus to sustain and depleted his energy and ability to observe his surroundings more closely, so he tried to avoid using any magical enhancements to his natural skill at stealth unless he had a desperate need to remain unnoticed. But often simple confidence sufficed, continuing on his way with the air of a man who knew where he was going and had business he needed to be about. Often no one thought to question a man who appeared to belong and seemed to know what he was doing.

Devyn spotted the sentries at the bottom of the dirt lane leading up to the hunting lodge, and sensed this was not going to be one of those times.

"Qui va là?" the sentry addressed him, watching him with suspicion. Well, that answered one question, at least. If the sentry was Jouvian, these must be Prince Rémy's men.

"C'est moi," he answered, throwing back his hood to reveal the features he had borrowed from another sentry he had spotted at the outskirts of the village when he'd skirted it.

"Quelle est la phrase secrète?" the sentry continued. Devyn took a chance, brushing the man's mind to check if he was human or Deryni. Fortunately he was merely human, and since he had just requested the pass phrase, the necessary information was right there at the forefront of his mind.

"Le corbeau vole à minuit," Devyn replied.  The sentry nodded, stepping aside to allow him to pass. Devyn turned onto the dirt lane and continued up the hill, his shoulder blades itching under the man's gaze, though he was careful not to speed up his pace or do anything to call additional attention to himself as he rode out of sight around a bend in the road.

#

There was a beautiful young woman crying at the top of the lane, but she was not Melisande. She was wearing what appeared to be a filmy nightdress and the most inappropriate shoes for outdoors he had ever seen, and could not have looked more conspicuous if she'd tried. At first he had assumed she was placed there as some sort of trap, but as he watched her warily, he realized her distress was genuine.

Of course, that didn't necessarily mean she wasn't a trap, it just meant she wasn't necessarily consenting to be used as one if she was.

Well, he wasn't going to learn anything about this unexpected situation from just sitting here astride his horse staring at her, and staring at her didn't seem the most gentlemanly thing to do under the circumstances.

She looked up, seeming to notice his presence for the first time. Her surprise and fear felt genuine to him, and she made a belated effort to shield herself with her arms, looking around wildly as if trying to find some escape route before wilting, her shoulders sagging, as if the effort had been too much and she was giving up. He inched his horse a little closer, trying to approach quietly, for now she was casting anxious glances up at the upper story windows of the lodge, as if worried someone within might be watching. Yet she didn't do what seemed to be the most obvious thing–run inside and lock the door. That made him wonder if she feared whoever was inside the lodge more than she feared him.

He had finally moved close enough to be heard even at a whisper. The woman had not moved, merely stood there watching him as if transfixed. He briefly considered using Mind-Speech, but he didn't know how she would react to that. There was a chance she might bring the whole lodge down on him with her screams.

"Can you tell me if the Lady Melisande and her children still reside within?" he asked in a voice that was barely audible even to himself. At first she didn't answer, and he wondered if he needed to try again in Jouvian, but then she cast another nervous look behind her and whispered back, "You are Gwyneddan?"

He nodded, and she nearly melted in relief. "No, there is no one else here but the one they call Rémy. And his second-in-command, but I can't pronounce his name. It sounds a bit like Aubergine. And me."

His eyebrows rose as he wondered whether the first man's name was mere coincidence or if Rémy of Joux had commandeered the Prince's lodge. Certainly if he had discovered who the property belonged to, he would have wanted to assert his dominance over it. Probably pissed in the corners as well, the mangy cur!

"Was the lodge already empty when you arrived here, or did the men do something to the original residents?" Devyn asked, hoping the former option was the correct one.

"It was empty, but I heard them saying something about escapees and some Duke found dead in a stable."

That sounded more ominous. Devyn hoped the Duke wasn't one of theirs. He tried to consider who might have been sent to rescue Mellie. The most obvious Duke would have been Carthmoor, but he was safely in Ramos, if any location within the war zone could be considered safe. Cassan, he knew only too well, was in Valoret. Claiborne hadn't been seen or heard from since fairly early on when he'd gone into Kheldour looking for the Eistenmarcker Queen. But Joss of Corwyn was the most likely candidate to have been sent in for a rescue attempt.

Devyn's heart nearly stopped until he realized that if Joss had died on this side of a Portal jump, Melisande and the girls would have remained stranded somewhere nearby. Yet there seemed to be no sign of them. He knew now not to attempt to extend his psychic touch into the lodge, where Rémy might detect it, but there was little need since the girl had said the lodge was empty before they arrived. So Mellie and the girls must be the escapees Rémy sought.

He cast around their surroundings briefly but found no signs of life nearby besides the usual scurrying animals one normally expected to find in a forest. So he'd risked his life and ridden all this way for nothing, then.

Devyn looked back at the trembling woman before him. Well, maybe not quite for nothing. "Did you wish to remain with this Rémy and his purple vegetable friend, or shall we be on our way?" He was fairly certain that any woman crying in the middle of the road late at night wearing only a nightgown and house slippers was likely not on the best of terms with whoever she kept casting fearful glances upwards to avoid.

"I..." Her head twitched convulsively as if she was trying to nod with it stuck in some sort of harness. Tears filling her eyes, she began to walk briskly, her steps curving in the small clearing, taking her on a path that partly circled the perimeter of the lodge garden before she returned, looking helplessly up at him, emanating frustration and despair.

"Let me guess, he's placed some sort of compulsion on you so you can't run away or ask overtly for help, is that it?" Devyn sighed, casting his senses out once more to make sure there weren't any enemies in the immediate vicinity. Not sensing any, he swiftly dismounted. "May I have a look? I promise not to touch anything but your head and your mind, and I'm not looking inside your head for anything besides what he might have put in there to keep you captive."

She didn't reply, but she didn't say "No" or shake her head either. Devyn took that for consent to try. He swiftly found the controls he was looking for. They had been inexpertly set by someone who appeared to have had only minimal training and were almost laughably simple to remove. Just in case this was some Jouvian practical joke, he did a second, very careful probe just to make sure there wasn't some sort of cleverly hidden death trigger or the like, but there hadn't been. He offered the girl a hand up into the saddle, swinging back onto his horse behind her, and wrapping his light cloak around them both.

"All right, little sweeting, let's get out of here before you're missed."

If ever there was a time to risk expending energy in order to use magical enhancements for concealment, Devyn judged that this was the perfect occasion to exercise such skills. He drew on all his training as they invisibly slipped past the posted sentries and continued further down the Via Rûmana towards Rhemuth.

#

August 25, 1464
A room above The Gold Lion
Nearly midnight

Rosaline had taken the late shift at the Gold Lion, where she worked as a barmaid, for the fifth evening in a row, but her efforts had paid off, for shortly before closing time Lord Salim had entered the inn to order his customary bowl of stew, tonight's special being a savory beef and barley pottage. She had learned his preferences well enough to know that he would eat nearly anything set before him, so long as it did not contain pork or, curiously, alcohol. She had learned a few of his other preferences also over the past few months, such as his enjoyment of a peculiar beverage called qahwa, an awful bitter brew which she had tasted one morning when he had made it for her, and then laughed heartily when she had sputtered at the taste of it.

He had become such a regular, Rosaline had become quite concerned when he had not appeared at the inn for nearly two weeks. There had been other occasions when he had not put in an appearance for several days at a time, and with rumors of war drawing closer to Rhemuth, those occasions had grown more frequent in recent weeks, but he had rarely been away for more than a week, if even that long. She had missed him.

He was more than making up for that absence now. She smiled with anticipation as he slid between her sheets in her small bedchamber upstairs above the inn's common room, drawing her close with those strong arms. She ran a fingertip down one of the faint scars that ran along his biceps, gazing up at him from her pillow. "Where have you been for so long, my lord?"

"I'm afraid I have been an unwilling guest of His Majesty's Infirmarium," he replied. "Though I am feeling much restored now."

"Have you been ill?" Rosaline asked, alarmed, though he looked perfectly healthy and hale to her now.

"No. My leg suffered an unfortunate encounter with a crossbow bolt. Fortunately Rhemuth Castle has a Healer on the premises. But enough of–"

Salim was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Rosaline stiffened in alarm. Surely it wasn't one of the inn's patrons attempting to get in at this late hour?

She glanced at Salim, who looked equally wary, sliding silently out of bed and slipping his robes around himself again before reaching for his sword. The pounding began again. "Rosaline!" a voice outside whispered loudly, though why her unwanted guest was bothering to whisper over all that ruckus was quite beyond her. "It's me! I need your help."

The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place whose it was. She didn't think it was one she had heard very recently. Baffled, she glanced towards Salim as she tiptoed towards the small shuttered window beside the door, peering through a crack in the shutter. "Devyn FitzCassan?!" What in the blazes was Devyn doing here in Rhemuth? And why was he carrying some blonde woman wrapped up in his cloak?

No, those weren't her most pressing questions. The most pressing one was, did he have those two marks he still owed her!

She unbolted and threw open the door, making him stumble and nearly fall into her chamber in the process, an unplanned consequence which still afforded her no little satisfaction, although she felt a tiny twinge of remorse as he dropped his blonde bundle directly on her bed. No. No, absolutely not!  If Rosaline thought three people in her bedchamber was a crowd, she absolutely drew the line at four. This was not that sort of establishment!

"Wha's this, then, an' where's me feckin' money?" Rosaline snarled, reverting to the Border lass she'd once been before she'd moved to Rhemuth and acquired a bit of Lowland polish. Behind her, she heard a stifled chuckle from Salim, whose presence she had momentarily forgotten (which in and of itself ought to have been evidence enough of how rattled she was, because who could forget that delectable desert prince?!), but Devyn was enough to tempt a saint into sin, though not the pleasurable sort that she had hoped to commit that night before he'd ruined everything by turning up.

Dev reached into his pouch and placed the coins in her hand almost as an afterthought. "Ros, I'm serious, we need your help. It's a matter of Crown business."

She felt more than saw Salim growing quietly attentive behind her as he observed the scene playing out before him in silent curiosity. She realized that for once this was not one of Devyn's jests.

"What do you need?" she asked, reining in her temper.

He didn't answer her directly at first, instead turning to the trembling girl on the bed. "It's all right, Lucie, you're safe now. I'm just going to get you more clothes, then we're going to see a Healer. All right?" He stroked a stray lock of hair out of the girl's face, and she nodded, though she continued to stay silent.

Devyn straightened, drawing Rosaline to one side. "She was a war captive," he whispered. "I found her behind enemy lines, and she needs a Healer's care, but she'll need something more to wear than just a nightgown. She's been through enough; being seen carried into the Castle wrapped up in my cloak like a Twelfth Night parcel would subject her to the sort of gossip I'm sure she would very much prefer to avoid."

"Where did you find her?" asked Salim, speaking up for the first time since Devyn's arrival.

"Candor Rhea, just ten miles up the road from here," Dev replied. Rosaline shot him a startled look. Devyn assessed the man before him. "I've seen you at Court. You're the new weapon master, yes?"

Salim nodded. "Yes."

"I found Lucie at the Duke of Carthmoor's hunting lodge. Do you happen to know where the Duke of Corwyn is posted at the moment? Or has he gone missing lately?"

Salim raised an inquisitive brow. "He's on the eastern front, the last I've heard."

"Good." Dev gave a relieved sigh. "Not one of ours, then." Salim looked puzzled by the seeming non sequitur.

Rosaline rifled through her trunk until she found an old gown she thought might serve the purpose. "Out, both of you! Give the lass her privacy." Both men found themselves shooed outside onto the landing as the barmaid efficiently took over the situation.

#

"I'm sorry," Lucie told the others gathered around her a few minutes later, after she had changed into a proper dress that was at least warm and dry, if a tiny bit too large at the top and a little snug around the middle. She took a few restorative sips from the tankard Rosaline had handed her. "I think I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed for a moment."

"That's perfectly understandable, Mistress Lucie," said Salim. "It sounds like you've been through quite the ordeal. Are you originally from Candor Rhea?"

"No, my lord," Lucie said shyly as she took another sip of her drink. "I was taken from Woodbury-on-Cleyde at midsummer. They put all of the villages in the upper Cleyde valley to the torch. The Eistenmarckers took most of the prisoners that they didn't simply kill outright, but the boy soldier gave me to the Jouvian prince instead."

"The boy soldier...that would be King Haakon of Eistenmarcke?" Devyn asked.

Lucie shrugged. "I wouldn't know; we weren't exactly properly introduced. But the way he ordered everyone else around, I imagine he must have been." She twisted a fold of her skirts in her hand as she thought back to that evening. "They selected which captives they wanted to keep and took some of the others away–into the woods, to hang them–then set fire to the church with the prisoners inside who they considered useless or expendable."

Devyn's eyes met Rosaline's. "Jesú," he whispered, shaken. His birth mother had died in a mill fire when he was a young boy, before he'd been taken in by his father the Duke and Cassan's first Duchess.  The news was equally sobering to Rosaline. She had grown up near the source of the Cleyde River, up between Trurill and Culdi.

"Lucie, I think the King would like to hear your story for himself, at least the bits that you are willing to share," Devyn said. "Don't be alarmed; I've known him for years and he's very approachable and cares a great deal about the people in this kingdom, not just the nobility but the common folk as well. He will want to know what his people have been suffering, but just as importantly, he needs to know where the enemy has been traveling, how much damage they've been doing along the way, and anything you might remember that the enemy may have said around you about what they are planning next. Do you think you could manage that? I would be happy to stay with you when you speak with him, if that would help. You needn't tell him about anything that is too personal for you to want to tell anyone."

"Will he want to look inside my mind?" Lucie asked, appearing anxious.

"He might, but if he does, he would likely only look to see or hear what you've tried to describe as if seeing or hearing it through your eyes and ears, to help him understand something that wasn't clear. For instance, he might understand a phrase in Jouvian that meant nothing to you, but that would tell him something he wishes to know about the enemy's plans. He is nothing like Prince Rémy, if you are afraid he would take advantage of something he learns from your thoughts to use it against you, or peek at your most private or painful memories."

Lucie pressed her lips together tightly, feeling uncertain. "Rémy used to like to go into my mind and find old memories of things that scare me. I would know what he was looking at because I could see the images flash before my mind, sometimes old childhood nightmares I hadn't thought about in years. But then he would try to find some way to make them come true somehow, just so he could laugh and think it a fine jest that he'd found some new way to terrify me." She looked back up at him. "Things like snakes and rats don't frighten me as much as they used to anymore. At least they don't delight in scaring me." She stopped plucking at her skirt, folding her fingers together in her lap instead. "I will tell the King whatever he wants to know, if that will help, as long as you will go with me."

Devyn nodded. "Aye, I'll go with you. Brave lass."

Her eyes welled up with tears. "I don't feel very brave, Master Devyn," Lucie admitted.

"No worries, lass. No one feels very brave in those moments when they show the most courage."

#

August 26, 1464
Another room above The Gold Lion
Morning

It had been too late to continue on to the Castle once the problem of Lucie's inadequate wardrobe had been resolved, and the main guest rooms at the Inn had already been filled for the night, Rhemuth's inns and monastic guest houses being more populated than usual by those with the means to travel southwards to escape the incursions of the enemy, some heading for safer lands abroad if they had friends or family there, others simply seeking the safety of a city with strong walls and a well trained garrison to protect them. War had been good for business at the Gold Lion, at least for the time being, though Rosaline wondered where the provisions would be found to continue to feed all their guests if the City should fall under siege and relief was too long in coming.

Despite these problems, she had managed to find one room that was still vacant due to a broken bed frame in need of repair, though the mattress would serve well enough as a pallet for the night. Devyn supplied the tuppence needed for the room, leaving the mattress and sheet for Lucie's use and resigned to curling up in his cloak and sleeping on the gallery outside her door until Lucie, realizing what he meant to do, told him he might as well sleep within the room instead of outside of it, since if he'd meant to harm her, he would have done so already, and she had no more reputation left to hurt.

Devyn disagreed, yet the hour had grown late and they all needed to catch up on their sleep (with the possible exception of Rosaline and Salim, but Devyn did not want to ponder that relationship too closely, and it should have been little surprise to him anyway that Ros had also chosen to move on with her life since his departure from Rhemuth four years earlier with little warning), so he had made no argument.

The following morning the two men escorted Lucie to the Castle, leaving Rosaline contentedly curled up in her bed, sleeping off her unexpectedly busy night.

Next chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3252.0.html

[revanne]

I'm glad that Devyn managed to rescue poor Lucie. 

It's a good thing that Rémy is not as good a Deryni as he no doubt thinks he is. He is obviously aware that his bloodline needs a new imput of powerful Deryni blood - hence his need of Catalina - but I doubt that he would have any patience with the idea that he, Rémy, needed to focus on disciplined training to use his powers to their full effect.

Even in mediaeval times I think the bride's consent was necessary for banns to be published. The consent might be perfunctory or even forced, and often doubtless was, but I'm fairly sure the question needed to be asked!

[Evie]

I'm glad that Devyn managed to rescue poor Lucie.

It's a good thing that Rémy is not as good a Deryni as he no doubt thinks he is. He is obviously aware that his bloodline needs a new imput of powerful Deryni blood - hence his need of Catalina - but I doubt that he would have any patience with the idea that he, Rémy, needed to focus on disciplined training to use his powers to their full effect.

Even in mediaeval times I think the bride's consent was necessary for banns to be published. The consent might be perfunctory or even forced, and often doubtless was, but I'm fairly sure the question needed to be asked!

That was indeed the case, although Rémy would not at all be above forcing it, and of course coerced consent isn't really true consent. Not that Rémy would care as long as it serves his purpose.

[DerynifanK]

Just when you think Remy can't get any more despicable, he manages to do so. If he were to find the portal in the stable, could he use it? I think you also need to know the signature of the destination portal which he would not. After talking with Cinhil, they would know where Remy is with limited support. Could they sneak in and capture him? That would be  so great if they made him a prisoner. One can but hope. There is no fate too bad for Remy.

[Evie]

Just when you think Remy can't get any more despicable, he manages to do so. If he were to find the portal in the stable, could he use it? I think you also need to know the signature of the destination portal which he would not. After talking with Cinhil, they would know where Remy is with limited support. Could they sneak in and capture him? That would be  so great if they made him a prisoner. One can but hope. There is no fate too bad for Remy.

Could Rémy use it? Yes, we've already seen he knows how to use a Portal. Does he know the signature of any destination portals within Gwynedd? Maybe, if he bothered to memorize any in the towns he's already been through, but he's unlikely to know of any in Rhemuth, if that's your concern, since he's never been there. Will they be able to sneak into the hunting lodge via the Portal in the stable to capture Rémy once word gets back to the King that he is there? Well, that depends on a number of things.

First off, Devyn currently only knows that a man named Rémy is currently occupying the lodge. However, Prince Rémy isn't necessarily the only Jouvian in the enemy forces with that first name, so Devyn can only surmise that the Rémy who is lodged here is the Prince of Joux, and he's not about to waste any time trying to do a thorough Mind-Read of Lucie's memories to ascertain if he's the Rémy of Joux or not until they are somewhere safe. Secondly, since Devyn made his way back to Rhemuth on horseback and as stealthily as possible (which also means very slowly, even given his magical cloaking, at least until he has managed to get well beyond earshot of any enemy sentries), it was extra late at night before he arrived in Rhemuth, and the next morning before he and Lucie could make their way to the Castle.

Even assuming they managed to get an early audience with the King, Rémy might not be at the lodge anymore by the time anyone might attempt to mount a response. After all, time has been passing for the Jouvians also. Rémy would certainly have noticed that his lovely present from Haakon has gone missing, and he would have realized that she couldn't have run off without assistance--specifically Deryni assistance. Would he just stick around the lodge knowing a Deryni who is presumably on the enemy side (because who on his own side would dare try to make off with his woman?!) is out there somewhere with his war captive whose mind is full of knowledge about things like who her captor is? I'm pretty sure even if Cinhil decides to send someone back through the Portal (though that would be a huge risk to take, sending a small strike force one or two at a time into an area known to be crawling with the enemy), Rémy will have left by then. What's more, I think Cinhil himself would also be aware of that, so he would try a different strategy instead rather than risking any Deryni lives against those uneven odds.

Keep in mind, though, that Cinhil has been aware that the enemy are in Candor Rhea since Mellie's rescue.  And his Gwyneddan forces haven't just been sitting around twiddling their thumbs since then either.  So it's quite possible Candor Rhea will be liberated sooner rather than later, regardless of whether or not they manage to capture Rémy at that time.

[DerynifanK]

Poor Colin. It seems that he frequently gets himself into tangles and has to figure out how to get out with the least amount of damage to all involved. He often decides he has been an idiot and now has to figure out how to fix it. I don't envy him. How could he think everything could return to what he thought of as normal after his marriage while he had relationships with two women. He's not a teenager anymore.

[Evie]

Poor Colin. It seems that he frequently gets himself into tangles and has to figure out how to get out with the least amount of damage to all involved. He often decides he has been an idiot and now has to figure out how to fix it. I don't envy him. How could he think everything could return to what he thought of as normal after his marriage while he had relationships with two women. He's not a teenager anymore.

True, though to be fair, he lives in a culture where marriage is more usually a business arrangement and not necessarily a love match, and it never occurred to him he could possibly fall in love with Catalina since he already loved Melisande. Catalina had said at the outset that as long as he gave her priority and that he waited until she was carrying his heir before discreetly resuming things with the woman he loved, she would be willing to accept his arrangement as long as he didn't get involved with anyone else. So he never counted on any feelings getting involved other than friendly respect and affection for and from his wife. It would have been considered a very rational way of dealing with the situation back then, only his heart ended up not being on board with that program and neither was Catalina's. The best made plans go oft astray.... 

[DerynifanK]

Poor Colin. It seems that he frequently gets himself into tangles and has to figure out how to get out with the least amount of damage to all involved. He often decides he has been an idiot and now has to figure out how to fix it. I don't envy him. How could he think everything could return to what he thought of as normal after his marriage while he had relationships with two women. He's not a teenager anymore.

True, though to be fair, he lives in a culture where marriage is more usually a business arrangement and not necessarily a love match, and it never occurred to him he could possibly fall in love with Catalina since he already loved Melisande. Catalina had said at the outset that as long as he gave her priority and that he waited until she was carrying his heir before discreetly resuming things with the woman he loved, she would be willing to accept his arrangement as long as he didn't get involved with anyone else. So he never counted on any feelings getting involved other than friendly respect and affection for and from his wife. It would have been considered a very rational way of dealing with the situation back then, only his heart ended up not being on board with that program and neither was Catalina's. The best made plans go oft astray.... 

They certainly do. And we all know that the person you fall in love with at 16 is often not the person you would choose at 25.

[DerynifanK]

And Colin's best laid plans do seem to go astray. It's not that he shouldn't follow his heart but it would be good if his head was more involved and he thought things through.

[Evie]

The best made plans go oft astray.... 

They certainly do. And we all know that the person you fall in love with at 16 is often not the person you would choose at 25.

Often that's very true. In this case, however, instead of growing apart over the years, I think Colin's and Mellie's shared history ended up bringing them even closer together as their initial teenage infatuation evolved over time into genuine mature love. I think Colin would have found it a lot easier to walk away from an old teen flame from a relationship that had run its course and burned out as they grew apart. He would have just settled Mellie with a nice pension and a home, and a promise to provide for their children, and happily returned to Rhemuth to fulfill his duty as a Haldane prince, marry, and produce heirs. But instead he happened to be one of the lucky ones (or in this case, maybe unlucky) to have found a true soulmate despite his young years, and that relationship only strengthened over time, which was why he became so resistant to ending it. I think even now that he also loves Catalina and truly doesn't wish to lose her, he would still have a lot more difficulty making a clean break from Mellie if it weren't for his equally strong fear that continuing his relationship with her would almost certainly result in Mellie's death in childbirth someday, if not with this child, then possibly with the next. He loves Mellie too much to keep selfishly risking her life now that he's realized that their efforts at contraception failed and that abstinence is the only sure method he is aware of that will protect her in future. (Unless he decides to look into those more foolproof methods of contraception Catalina told him could be found in Andelon, but he is already well aware of what Catalina's feelings would be about that!)

And Colin's best laid plans do seem to go astray. It's not that he shouldn't follow his heart but it would be good if his head was more involved and he thought things through.

Fortunately time and maturity have a way of teaching someone to think before they act. Colin is better at that now at 27 than he was at age 16, and hopefully will continue to improve at it over time.