Authors: Lord of Light
Alisanne gazed steadily
at him through the dim light and smoke of the inn; with her bad eyesight,
everything, including Albert, had a halo about it.
“He no longer possesses
the gift, you know,” she murmured. “He tried to heal my eyes to no avail.
He had no powers at all.”
Albert looked at her,
surprised. “Is this true?”
“Aye,” she nodded.
“Mayhap God only allowed Roane to perform one miracle and it happened to be on
my uncle, for he no longer has the gift of light.”
Albert was fixed on one
particular part of her statement. “Your uncle?” he repeated. “John Adam is your
uncle?”
Alisanne nodded. “That
is how I came to know Roane,” she said. “I wanted him to heal my eyes as he had
my uncle but when he tried, he only made matters worse.”
It was a stunning
revelation.
Albert’s first reaction was
that he should bring this to Father Bordeleaux’s attention. Mayhap it would
make a difference and Roane would be absolved.
But in the same breath, he knew it would not. Gift or no, Roane was
still a doomed man.
Now, it was the
principle of the situation - for Bordeleaux, to back out of an execution would
make him look foolish, and the arrogant leader would not allow such a thing.
“Your eyes,” he said
after a moment. “They are very red. What is the matter with them?”
Alisanne shook her head.
“A year ago they became as you see,” she said. “They have only grown worse and
my eyesight has dimmed as a result. A physic has said I will soon be
blind.
You see, it is my fault that he
was captured by the Hospitallers. A bounty hunter used me as bait, hoping to
prey upon Roane’s innate sense of chivalry, but Roane fell in love with me and
I
with him.
The
bounty hunter was able to capture him and turn him over to the Hospitallers so
that is why I must help him; he would not be here if it was not for me.
I must help him escape or die trying.”
Albert was coming to
understand the relationship between the lady and Roane now.
“So you and your father came here to try and
find a way to release him.”
“Aye.”
Albert pondered the
situation and the events at the small castle in Shropshire where they found
Roane.
“I seem to remember that bounty
hunter at Kinlet Castle,” he said. “A rather unpleasant fellow as I recall.
Wasn’t there something about a marriage?”
Alisanne nodded,
ashamed. “The bounty hunter knew of the affliction of my eyes,” she said
quietly. “He demanded my hand and my father had no choice but to comply or face
serious threat.
Dodge saw in me an
opportunity to gain lands and titles, and I was forced to marry him shortly
after the Hospitallers took Roane away.”
Albert lifted his
eyebrows as if the seriousness of her situation was taking on new dimension.
“And he let you come after Roane?”
“I left.
I am sure it will not take him long to figure
out where I have gone and come for me, so you see,
Roane and I must leave here very soon or all
will be lost.”
Albert grunted. “I would
say that is a fair statement.”
Alisanne’s gaze grew serious. “Now
that you know everything, will you
please
help me?” she begged softly. “I ask not for myself but for Roane; you know he
is not guilty of what they have accused him of.
Would you see an innocent man come to harm, knowing full well of his
innocence?
It would make you as evil as
those who have falsely accused him.”
Albert sighed faintly as
pieces to the puzzle came together. Now, he understood a great deal.
Call it foolishness, or call it his own innate
sense of chivalry and honor where a fellow knight was concerned, but he knew he
had to help.
It was increasingly clear
that he had a job to do.
He had to save
a friend.
“I said I would help
you,” he said quietly. “But you must do exactly as I say. I know this Order and
I know their habits.
I will do all I can
to save Roane and your father, but you must trust me.
Speak to no one.
Remain quiet and as obedient as you can, and
hopefully I can get us all out of here alive.”
Alisanne nodded
seriously. “Do you already have a plan?”
His gaze lingered on her
a moment, his dark eyes reflecting a myriad of possibilities. “Not yet,” he
said. “But something will come to me.”
Alisanne could only
trust him and hope he was sincere.
The
truth was that she didn’t have much choice.
Albert whistled over a bar maid and ordered more ale for himself and
something warm for Alisanne.
They sat in
silence for a minute or two until the woman returned with warmed wine and more ale.
Alisanne sipped the sweet and spiced drink
gratefully as Albert downed his ale.
Now that a partnership of sorts
was established between them, each was lost to their own thoughts.
Men’s lives hung in the balance.
Unfortunately, the more Albert drank, the more
the drink went straight to his head and after nearly an hour in the inn, he was
well on his way to being drunk.
Alisanne
could tell just by the way he was looking at her.
She cringed when next he spoke because he
knocked over the empty ale pitcher and spit all over her arm as he spouted his
words.
“I know a very good physic,” he said with a
good deal of alcohol induced self-assurance. “I shall take you to him and we
shall see if he can cure your eyes.”
Alisanne had to admit
she was rather intrigued by the suggestion but she was sure it was the ale that
was loosening his tongue.
“Is that so?”
she said, sipping at her wine and wondering how she could convince the man to
stop drinking. “I think that mayhap sleep is all they need right now. Mayhap we
should both retire and meet here in the morning.”
Albert shook his head.
“Nay,” he said, reaching over to grab her hand. “I will take you to him now.
Alisanne pulled her hand
from his grasp. “I must go to bed,” she insisted, moving to stand up. “You
should go to bed, too. I will see you here in the morning.”
Albert opened his mouth
to argue with her when the door to the inn suddenly flew open and several men
pushed into the establishment.
They
began shoving people out of the way and generally creating a ruckus.
Although Alisanne couldn’t see them very
well, she wasn’t concerned until she heard one man in particular.
He began to bellow.
“Barkeep!” the man
roared.
“Barkeep, present yourself!
You will service
me immediately!”
Alisanne knew that
voice; dear God, she knew it all too well.
Terror welled in her chest as she plopped back down on the chair and
pulled her hood over her head, facing away from the sounds of the commotion.
“It is him!” she hissed
at Albert. “He has come as I knew he would. It is Dodge!”
Albert, in his drunken
state, had no idea what she was talking about. “Dodge?” he repeated rather
loudly. “Who is that?”
Alisanne hushed him
frantically. “The bounty hunter,” she whispered.
“The man who
forced me to marry him.
He has come!”
Albert began to grasp
what she was telling him.
None too
discreetly, he looked over towards the entrance of the establishment and could
see several heavily armed men near the door.
The innkeeper, a fearful little man with hairy hands, was over speaking
with them.
They could hear Dodge’s
imperious demands for food and lodgings.
He turned back to Alisanne.
“I recognize him,” he
said, not sounding as drunk as he had moments earlier. In fact, he sounded
rather lucid. “We must remove you from this place before he sees you.”
Alisanne could only nod
her head urgently, keeping the hood down around her face.
Albert stood up and took her by the hand.
“Come along,” he said
quietly. “There is a back way.”
Alisanne clung to the
man as he led her into the guts of the structure, past the smoky kitchen, and
out through the gaping-hole back entrance.
There was a yard beyond with a few horses tethered and a soft fire
glowing for the servants who were working in the yard.
Somewhere, a horse nickered and a goat
bleated as Albert led Alisanne through the yard in a hasty retreat, and into
the alley that backed up to the inn.
It was a panicked flight
that wasn’t over yet.
The alley was very
quiet, devoid of activity now that night had fallen and people were settling in
for sleep.
Avoiding the street that
faced the entrance to the tavern, Albert took her down the dark avenue very
quickly, kicking a dog out of the way that didn’t move fast enough, putting
distance between them and the inn.
It seemed as if he took her a
great distance because they seemed to be running for quite some time until he
abruptly came to a halt, and Alisanne held on to him tightly as he pounded on a
door.
With her bad eyes and the darkness
of the street, she could hardly see a thing and had no idea where they
were.
Still, it didn’t matter – all
that mattered was that she was away from Dodge, as far away as she could get.
Her heart was thumping painfully against her ribs, her breathing coming in short
gasps, when the door that Albert had been knocking on finally opened.
She found herself thrust into a dark and warm
hovel.
Alisanne was immediately
hit by the smell of old and rotted things.
It smelled awful and she pushed her hood back slightly to assess their
surroundings; it was a single room filled to the brim with more clutter than
she had ever seen, and she immediately spied a tall, thin man with long gray
hair down his back.
He was very old and
clad in dirty brown robes.
Albert was
already standing in front of the man, whom he seemed to know very well.
“Ovier,” Albert greeted.
It sounded like
o-
vee
-ay
.
“What have you done to yourself? What happened to your nose?”
Alisanne was trying to see what was
going on through the dim light.
The old
man grinned ruefully as he brushed at his bruised face.
“A kiss from your
friends in the brotherhood’s guard,” he said. “I did not move fast enough when
Bordeleaux came down the avenue like a conquering emperor and they made their
displeasure known.
Albert,
why do you sound so drunk?”
“Because I am,” Albert said
as he eyed the old man’s blackened nose.
He was often one of those roughing people up in the name of the
brotherhood and Bordeleaux. “But I shall sober and heal, much like your nose.”
“I should have lain down
in the street in front of them.”
“Then they would have
killed you,” he said, turning to indicate the small woman in the heavy cloak.
“This is the Lady Alisanne de Soulant.
My lady, this is my rebellious uncle, Ovier.”
Alisanne timidly removed
the hood of her cloak, nodding her head respectfully to the wiry old man. “My
lord,” she said.
Ovier’s attention was
entirely on her, inspecting her as one would inspect a prized mare. Nothing
escaped his scrutiny as the yellowed eyes grazed her from head to toe.
Just as Alisanne began feeling very
uncomfortable, the old man spoke.
“My lady,” he said as he
made his way towards her, extending a hand. “Never have I seen such beauty. You
must forgive an old man his admiration.
When are you and my nephew to be married?”
Alisanne’s eyes widened
as Albert chuckled. “This young lady is spoken for many times over, I am
afraid,” he said in his drunken flourish, “and I am not one of them,
unfortunately.
Nay, uncle, we have come
to you for help. Lady Alisanne has a… problem.”