Georgette Heyer (19 page)

From below came Ranaud’s deep voice.

‘If the lass is affrightened I will fetch a lantern.’

‘Oh, thank you!’ Jeanne said fervently.

Heavy footsteps were heard retreating. After a short pause they came back again, and Ranaud mounted the ladder, bearing a lantern.

‘It will last the night if ye burn it low,’ he told Margaret.

By its feeble light they saw a heap of straw in one corner.

‘Soft enough,’ grunted Ranaud, and clambered down again. ‘Pleasant dreams to thee.’

‘And to thee,’ Margaret called after him, and closed the trap-door, bolting it securely. ‘Oh, Jeanne! Did – did you really see – a rat?’

‘I heard a scuffle,’ Jeanne answered tearfully. ‘Shall you take this Ranaud with us?’

‘I know not. Think ye he is honest?’

‘He is large,’ Jeanne said, as if that were more to the point.

‘That is true. And withal his fierceness I think he is gentle enough, and chivalrous. Mayhap I will take him as far as Turincel. I hope he is not a rogue, cozening us so that he may the more easily rob us.’

‘I do not think so at all,’ Jeanne said, and sank gingerly down upon the straw. ‘God be thanked, it is soft and clean!’

Margaret stretched herself down beside her.

‘Ah, how soft! Indeed, I am weary unto death.’

‘Lewd fellows, dirty food, and rats,’ Jeanne sighed. ‘Perhaps Geoffrey will have discovered our absence by now,’ she added hopefully.

‘Never! Thou dost speak as though didst want him to come in pursuit!’

‘I do want him.’

Margaret raised herself on her elbow.

‘Faint heart! His coming means my death! Art turned traitor, Jeanne? Think ye Simon of Beauvallet would hesitate to kill me for this?’

‘I would entreat Geoffrey to intercede for thee.’

‘Geoffrey! Beauvallet would heed him not! If I read him aright, he follows his own road in all things. He is the leader, and thy Geoffrey hath but to obey his commands.’

‘Geoffrey is no weakling!’

‘He is not the man Beauvallet is. Beauvallet counts no cost.’

‘Art very interested in the Iron Lord,’ Jeanne said snappishly.

‘Interested! I hate him! Do I not go to summon aid against him?’

‘I have a feeling that this stupid, mad emprise is hopeless,’ Jeanne remarked. ‘Geoffrey will come.’

‘Nay, I will succeed! If any come it will be Beauvallet, but he will come too late! He shall see of what make is Margaret of Belrémy.’

‘And when he comes, Margaret of Belrémy will see of what make he is. And when Geoffrey comes –’

‘Oh, cease thy prating of Geoffrey!’

‘Then cease
thy
prating of Beauvallet,’ flamed Jeanne, and turned her back.

How the Lady Margaret came to Turincel

By a brook which gurgled joyously over the pebbles at its bed, surrounded by gaunt, leafless trees, three travellers sat, eating their mid-day meal. The air was frosty, the ground hard, and the three sat close together for warmth, and were wrapped in great cloaks. In the middle, munching a crust of bread and meat, was the Lady Margaret and on one side of her Jeanne crouched, on the other Ranaud, who was humming to himself.

‘How many leagues to Turincel?’ inquired Margaret, between bites. ‘Dost thou know, Gaston?’

‘Two, belike,’ he answered, and produced a bottle of wine. ‘Will ye drink, lassie?’ he asked Jeanne. ‘’Twill warm thee.’

‘Where got ye that?’ demanded Margaret, round-eyed.

Ranaud chuckled.

‘From the landlord’s cellar while ye slept last night.’

‘Did – did you steal it?’ Jeanne asked, shocked.

‘Hard words, hard words.’

Margaret uncorked it and drank a little.

‘Stolen or no, ’tis grateful and warming,’ she said. ‘I could have paid, Gaston.’

‘No need,’ he grunted. ‘Best keep thy gold pieces close. What do ye at Turincel?’

Margaret hesitated.

‘I – I would fain trust thee, Gaston, but –’

‘Ye may well do so. I give away no secrets.’

Jeanne tugged at Margaret’s sleeve.

‘Nay, nay,
chérie
!’ she whispered. ‘Have a care!’

‘Why should I not tell him? He is honest, I know, and he hath befriended us! Gaston, I – I seek Fernand de Turincel.’

‘So I thought,’ said Ranaud calmly.

‘You thought – ? But how – why – !’

‘Belike ye bear a message from the Lady Margaret?’

Margaret drew her cloak more about her legs.

‘I – I am – the Lady Margaret,’ she said.

‘Well, I know that,’ Ranaud said composedly, and took a pull at the wine-bottle.

‘You – know it?’ Margaret stared at him in amazement. ‘How? When didst thou guess?’

‘When ye pulled out your dagger at yonder inn,’ Ranaud answered. ‘I was once at Belrémy, and I saw you oft-times. But the disguise is good,’ he added. ‘Go ye to seek help ’gainst the English?’

‘Ay! To throw them out of Belrémy. Ye too will stand my friend?’

Ranaud nodded, his mouth being too full for speech. Margaret laid her hand on his arm.

‘Thou art a good fellow,’ she said gently. ‘When I am come into mine own again, shalt ask me for what ye will.’

‘Bah, I want no reward,’ he said. ‘I am Ranaud, and I go where I please, and do what I please.’

‘Ye call no man master?’

‘Nay, I am a masterless man. Lord, Lord, but none will take me for a rogue.’

‘I will take thee,’ Margaret said. ‘Shalt be my bodyguard, an thou wilt.’

‘I will think on it,’ Ranaud answered. ‘The lass is not thy sister?’

‘Nay, but my dear friend.’

‘Ay, so I thought. It will serve best for me to call thee Léon, madame.’

‘Ah, please! I am not “madame” now. In – in this gear.’ She blushed a little, but Gaston’s glance was impersonal enough.

Presently they arose from their frugal repast, and proceeded on towards Turincel, arriving there shortly before three in the afternoon. The gates of the town were open, nor did anyone challenge their entrance. They walked soberly along the narrow streets towards the castle, which stood in the middle of the town.

The drawbridge was down, and some men-at-arms were lounging upon it. Margaret walked up to them boldly, and accosted one of them.

‘Is my Lord Fernand within?’ she asked.

The man stared at her, then nudged his companion, and laughed.

‘Ye should have given warning of your coming, Highness,’ he said with mock solemnity. ‘Then my lord would surely have stayed at home.’

Margaret curbed her quick temper.

‘He is away?’

‘Oh yes, Highness, he is away!’

She looked at him sharply.

‘It would be well for you to speak truthfully, my friend. My lord will punish any insolence offered to me.’

The man laughed.

‘Will he so? My lord is perhaps a friend of thine, whelp?’

‘A friend indeed,’ Margaret answered. ‘I will inquire at the castle for him, since ye are so ignorant.’ She made as if to pass on, but the soldier barred her way.

‘Nay, nay, it will not suffice. I have mine orders, and I will obey them. Get thee hence, saucy puppy!’

Margaret flung up her head.

‘Knave, ye know not to whom ye speak! I am the Lady Margaret, Countess of Belrémy.’

The soldier shook with laughter.

‘Is it indeed so? I am Fernand, Duke of Turincel, at your service, Countess.’

‘Ye do not believe me? Summon your captain hither, and ye shall see!’

‘The lad is foolish,’ said another man, tapping his forehead.

‘I know. I had thrown him off the bridge, else.’

‘Shall I cut thee a way?’ Ranaud asked, surging forward.

In an instant pikes were levelled.

‘How now! Brawling and roystering, eh? Away with ye, all!’

Margaret thrust forward, checking her turbulent henchman.

‘Put up, put up! Tell me, good fellow, is it true that my lord is in Paris?’

One of them, more good-natured than the rest, answered her.

‘Nay, he is gone to present his submission to King Henry, lad.’

For a moment all reeled before Margaret’s eyes. Then she sprang forward.

‘Ye lie! Ye lie!’ she cried furiously.

‘Gently, gently! ’Tis true enough. We want no ravaging of our land. My lord hath promised allegiance to the English King, and hath promised to aid none in withstanding him. Why, what ails the lad?’

It was Jeanne who flung her arms about the Countess.

‘
Chérie
,
chérie!
’ she whispered. ‘Come away! Perchance it is not true. Come!’

Margaret suffered herself to be led away, stunned by the shock. Ranaud took command of the party, and conducted them to a small hostelry near the gates of the town. In the deserted parlour, Jeanne knelt before her mistress, chafing her hands and crooning to her.

‘
Ma belle, ma mignonne! Petite chérie
,
lift thy head!’

A big tear rolled down Margaret’s cheek, and at the sight of it Jeanne drew her head to rest on her bosom, and Ranaud discreetly retired.

‘In vain! All in vain!’ Margaret whispered. ‘Fernand turned traitor…. What shall I do? What can I do?’

‘Why, sweeting, we will find a way, never fear! Thou – thou wilt not return to Belrémy and – and make thy submission?’

The slim form quivered.

‘Never! Never while I live! Go back, vanquished, humble, broken? Ah, not that! Rather would I stab myself!’

‘But,
chérie
,
what canst thou do? At least Belrémy spells safety for thee, and thou canst not wander over the countryside at will. Beauvallet will treat thee fair, I know. Smother thy pride, sweet, and go back. Indeed, indeed it is wisest!’

Margaret sat up, brushing away the tears.

‘Shall I be unfaithful to the name I bear? What says my motto? – “Conquest or death” – well, I will conquer. Would my father turn back? Nay, nay! Why, what ails me? There is a boulder in my path, and I lose heart! Body o’ me, I will go on!’

‘But where,
mignonne
?
Thy father was a man, thou art but a woman.’

‘No woman I. In man’s clothes I stand, and a man will I be. He called me the Amazon. Full well will I merit that title. Let me think! Let me think!’ She flung off her cap, running her fingers up through the thick masses of her hair, eyes narrowed and keen, elbows on her knees.

Jeanne rose silently, and went to the window. Presently Margaret spoke.

‘Jeanne, perhaps our good Gaston would conduct thee back to Belrémy, if I asked him.’

‘I go with thee,’ Jeanne said shortly.

‘But thy feet, little one! Thou canst do no more.’

‘What thou canst do, I will do.’

‘Thy heart is at home, with Malvallet.’

‘My heart is here with thee.’

‘I may tramp many leagues, and I must march quickly.’

‘Then march I too, till I drop.’

‘Oh, Jeannette, Jeannette, thou art too brave and sweet! Thou dost deserve a better, kinder mistress! Not – not a turbulent – Amazon. God help me! Where is Gaston?’

‘I know not. He went out a while back. I think he leaves us here.’

‘Ay.’ Margaret’s head sank back into her hands, and for a long time there was silence.

Back into the little room came Ranaud, seeming to fill it with his great bulk and height.

‘Supper comes,’ he said gruffly to Jeanne, and jerked his thumb towards the still figure by the fire, with an inquiring lift of his red brows. Jeanne shrugged, and Ranaud seemed to understand, for he gave a grunt, and sat down by the table.

The landlord entered presently, bringing supper, and when it was set out upon the table Jeanne went to her mistress, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

‘Come, sweet; supper.’

Margaret roused herself.

‘Supper? Ah, yes, I must eat, I suppose. Why, the good Gaston has returned! Gaston, heard ye aught in the streets?’

‘Ay. ’Tis true enough, what they told you on the bridge.’

Margaret heaved a little sigh.

‘Well; I doubted it not. What have we here? Bacon, as I live, and fresh beef! Gaston, how should we fare without thee?’

‘Well enough,’ he said, and fell to carving the meat.

For some time Margaret ate in silence, frowning, and seeming not to hear the desultory conversation of her two companions. But after a while she spoke, looking at Ranaud.

‘Gaston, how many leagues onward lies Vazincourt?’

His little eyes widened in a momentary surprise.

‘Some thirteen leagues or more, to the east.’

‘No nearer?’

‘That is the quickest, lady. And the way runs through the lands of Raoul the Terrible.’

‘Ah!’ She caught her breath. ‘And if one went not that way?’

‘Sixteen – twenty leagues. I know not.’

Margaret relapsed into thought, and did not speak again until supper was over. Then she pushed her stool back from the table, and Jeanne saw that her mouth was tightly set.

‘I will go there.’

‘Go where?’ Jeanne asked her.

‘To Vazincourt. To the Sieur de Larousie.’

‘Through Raoul’s lands? Humph!’

‘Margot, ye rave!’ Jeanne cried. ‘It is impossible!’

‘Nay.’ The pointed chin was determined. ‘Naught is impossible. I will go to Arnaud de Larousie. Thou dost know, Jeannette, that he will do – what I wish.’

‘At a price, perhaps,’ Jeanne said meaningly.

Margaret’s face quivered, and was still again.

‘I would pay that price. He is a good man.’

‘All to sate thy vengeance?’

‘To set my land free from the English tyrant.’

‘Thou wouldst never, never reach Vazincourt.’

‘That will I. But, Jeanne,
petite
Jeanne, if thou dost indeed love me, thou wilt return to Belrémy.’

‘If thou art determined to go, naught shall part us. I swear it.’

Ranaud picked up his tankard.

‘Here’s to thine emprise, lady!’ he said, and drank deeply.

A soft light came into Margaret’s eyes.

‘Thou good fellow! I owe thee more than I can hope to pay, Gaston, but one day, when I rule again in Belrémy, come to me, and thou shalt have all that I can give thee.’

‘A murrain on what ye can give me!’ growled Ranaud. ‘Ye have given me adventure, and I am ever one for that.’ He chuckled, and slapped his thigh.

‘I have brought thee out of thy way, good fellow. But here we part company, and I shall not forget.’

He drank again, and passed the back of his hand across his mouth.

‘I come with ye,’ he announced doggedly. ‘A pretty thing it would be for ye to travel through Raoul’s lands alone.’

‘Ah!’ Margaret caught his hand impulsively. ‘No, no, my friend! I could not permit it! I’ll not have your blood on my head. But I thank you! Oh, I thank you a thousand times!’

‘My blood be upon mine own head. I am no puny weakling. I ask but a little fighting, and I am satisfied. I come, willy-nilly.’

‘My friend, I – I cannot take thee.’ Margaret flushed. ‘I brought – could bring – but little money, and – and – I have not enough –’

‘I’ve money enough, and what I cannot buy I steal. The reckoning shall come later. Come with ye I will…. And that is my last word!’ he roared suddenly.

Margaret laughed, and a sparkle came into her eyes. Up she sprang, and seized the tankard.

‘Then here’s to our emprise, our glorious emprise!’ she cried, and drank deep.

‘And here’s to a right brave lady,’ Ranaud said, and stood to drink his toast.