Revenge of the Rose (33 page)

But then Konrad continued speaking. “You’ve taken her
after swearing to me you wouldn’t.
Is that it? Is that what you’ve become, Marcus? I won’t give away a wanton as a bride, especially if she’s my cousin— how does that reflect on me, that I can’t even control a kinswoman? If you’ve ruined her, she’s to an abbey for life, which I don’t mind frankly, since then Burgundy would revert to me when Alphonse dies— but you will be at Alphonse’s mercy, and you know as well as I do that he’ll kill you.” He grimaced and looked directly at Marcus, who somehow managed to return the look steadily. “Please tell me that the man whose judgment I rely on to run my court has not committed such a monumental act of betrayal and
idiocy.
”

So the last honest door slammed closed.

“I swore I had not had her,” Marcus said unsteadily. “I did not lie.”

“Good!” Konrad boomed, visibly relaxing, and headed toward the door.

“But, sire, that is only the beginning.”

With theatrical exasperation, Konrad returned, perched on the bed and gestured. “So. To your business.”

“I…I gave my horse his head and let him wander for a day or so, and eventually I found myself in a field, I did not even know where I was. There was a beautiful blond woman in the field, well dressed and very debonair. Lovely, and playful, and I would have taken her for a novice nun until she began to flirt with me.”

“Yes, yes, women always flirt with you, Marcus,” Konrad said with impatient affection. “Are you feeling guilty for enjoying the attention of another woman so soon after losing Imogen? Is this one of those
romantic
dilemmas? And if so, do you need me to pardon you? I do, Marcus, I do, and now I really must— “

“We made love, sire. She was…” He hesitated. “She seemed experienced and sure, until it came to the very act, and then she proved to be a virgin, but she begged me to, so I…did.”

“Marvelous! A woman’s virginity is the cure for so many things these days.” Konrad rose to leave. “Please, Marcus, I have more entertaining things to— “

“Bear with me a moment, Your Grace, and you’ll see why I am telling you this.” He could hardly believe it was his own voice coming out of his mouth. “Afterward, we were lying in the grass, and she pointed out we did not even know each other’s names. I told her mine. And she told me hers.”

Konrad sighed with growing impatience. “This is the sort of story you ought to be sharing with Jouglet, he can make a song of it. What is it that you want from me? Do you want to invite her back to court? Do you want to marry her?”

“I want to tell you who she is, sire,” Marcus said, sounding strained, and stood up. He took a long moment to steady his breathing. Konrad crossed his arms impatiently. “She said her name…” He could barely make himself say it. “Her name was Lienor of Dole, sister to Willem the knight.”

“What?”
Konrad spat. He leapt back across the room at him, startling the sleeping dogs, who yelped with frightened indignation; he grabbed Marcus by the shoulders and raised him off his feet, shaking him roughly. “What are you telling me? Are you
mad
?”

“I didn’t know who she was!” Marcus insisted. “Good God, sire, do you think I would— “

“How do you know she was telling the truth?” Konrad demanded, but he released him. He crossed himself on reflex with one jeweled hand. “There must be many around those parts who would be jealous of Lienor and try to ruin her name. I won’t believe it’s her without proof. I cannot think that of Willem’s sister.”

“I have proof,” Marcus said miserably, rubbing his arm where Konrad had gripped him. “If I had the slightest doubt, I would never trouble you with it. I can describe her body. There is a little birthmark on her upper left thigh, in the shape of a rose. She told me only her family knows about it— and frankly, if he is a decent man, Willem himself will hardly remember it since infancy.”

Konrad glared at him. He strode across the room, through the receiving room, and hurled opened the door. “Bring me Willem of Dole,” he ordered one of the pages outside.
“Immediately.”

Marcus cringed. “Sire, Konrad, please, I beg you as a friend, don’t make me be here with you when he arrives. That will only make us both wretched. I’ve told you what I have to tell; please, ask him about the birthmark alone, and act accordingly.”

“If you took her virginity, you are accountable to the head of her family,” Konrad said furiously. “This is almost as bad as if you’d taken Imogen.”

“I did not take it, she gave it to me,” Marcus insisted. “And as I said, for all the rest—
all
the rest— she was clearly seasoned. She’s a beautiful woman, sire, she is enchantingly beautiful. She is also a harlot.” The back of his mouth tasted like tin; he felt as if a solid, heavy bar of it stretched from his gut up his throat.

“For the love of Christ,” Konrad said hoarsely, then sat down in his leather chair and did not move.

“May I be excused?” Marcus asked.

“No, you may not,” he snapped. “I did not make this mess, I am only the victim of it— you will have to do the dirty work.” He groaned a little. “And then I will end up with that Besançon bitch.”

They sat in tense silence, punctuated occasionally by Konrad’s indignant cursing and the hounds’ soft whining as they pressed their worried canine noses against his fingertips. He ignored them, which only increased their solicitude.

Finally Willem and Jouglet appeared together in the doorway.

“
Not Jouglet
,” Marcus and Konrad said in the same voice, with the same gesture pointing at the minstrel to leave. The two in the doorway exchanged glances.

“Very well, sire. Willem my friend, shall I see you at supper?”

“Yes,” said Willem and, without thinking, almost kissed the minstrel. He chucked her on the shoulder in a chummy sort of way instead, and she slipped away down into the red stone courtyard.

“Willem, step inside and shut the door,” the emperor said gruffly. “Keep the boys outside. And the dogs.” The pages, after summoning the hounds, retreated again, but they were starting to look extremely curious.

The three men stared at one another: Willem with confusion; Konrad with muted fury; Marcus with a very real combination of fear and guilt. “Yes, sire?” Willem asked, bowing. “What do you need of me?”

“Marcus has a little question to ask you about your sister,” Konrad said in a tight voice. “You must answer honestly. Our futures both rest on it.”

Jouglet had decided to wait in sight of the king’s receiving-room door for the trio to emerge. Two pages and a guard waited outside the door, looking like banished pets. Jouglet played half-penny prick with the cook’s children, who were alarmingly talented at knife throwing. Upstairs, the three men were secluded for as long as it might take to walk a mile. She had a bad feeling about this— which accelerated to alarm when she saw Willem emerge. His face was colorless beneath his light brown beard. He looked shaky as he passed the guard and pages, and began to descend the steps to the courtyard. She shooed the children off and ran up the steps to meet him halfway. “What is it?” she asked.

He did not look at her; he seemed incapable of turning his head. “I need to be alone,” he said tonelessly and kept walking past her down the stairs. She started descending with him, but he brushed her away, as if she were a small dog he did not want to pay attention to. Confused, she looked back up toward the king’s door; Marcus had come out onto the landing. He looked as distraught as Willem, but his face was red, and he seemed frightened, or cowed. “Willem,” he called down miserably, but the knight, without looking back at him, shook his head with the same stunned slowness and continued walking down the steps; at the bottom he turned left and then left again, to begin the descent down to the stable. Workers and a knight or two, crossing the small courtyard on their own business, looked up at Marcus with curiosity, and then down at Willem as he descended.

“What’s happened?” the minstrel demanded, running back up the steps to meet Marcus. “Marcus, tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“Jouglet,” Marcus said with frustration, glancing at the guard and boys, who were openly eavesdropping. “It is not a topic for public discussion.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” She looked down at the half-dozen people who were taking an interest in what was happening. “Go away,” she ordered.

“You’re the worst gossip in the Empire,” Marcus said irritably. “There are some things, Jouglet, that must be respected, there are some secrets that should not see the light of day.” His throat constricted; he was still shaken by what he had just done. Not ecstatic; not relieved. He hoped those feelings would come later; for now he was just shaken. He had achieved his goal: Lienor would never be the empress. He had expected Willem to attack him, and now almost wished for that. No doubt it was yet to come.

“What has happened?” Jouglet demanded again as they stepped off the stairs into the courtyard.

“There really are some things that are beyond your understanding,” Marcus said gently. “You are too young, and you do not understand the pressures on the aristocracy regarding private matters. Leave it alone.” A few steps away was the opening to the covered spiral stair that led up to his room, and he stepped toward it.

“I’ll talk to Konrad,” Jouglet announced defiantly. “He tells me everything.” The cook and butler, walking together into the courtyard, glanced at them with curiosity.

“He may not tell you this.” Marcus nodded his head to end the conversation, and disappeared into the stairwell.

She heard a sound above and looked up to see Konrad standing in the doorway, looking dismayed. “Sire!” Jouglet cried out, and again ran up the steps.

He smiled a tired, fatherly smile. “Jouglet, I should have known you’d stick your nose in it at once.”

“Stick my nose in
what
?” Jouglet begged.

Konrad sighed sadly and then— aware of the attention they were getting— dismissed the ejected attendants down the stairs. He said in a gentle whisper intended only for the minstrel’s hearing, “I will not marry Willem’s sister.”

Jouglet gaped, then rudely and furiously demanded, “Why not?!”

This caught the attention of everyone who was in any room that opened onto the tight and echoing courtyard; in other words, approximately the entire upper palace.

Konrad pursed his lips a moment. Still in a whisper, he answered, “I think Willem is the one who should share that with you, if it is to be shared. It is not my story to tell.” He started to retreat into the room, then looked back and said to Jouglet, “It’s good he has you as a friend. He will need encouragement these next few days.”

“Has something happened to her, sire?” Jouglet demanded frantically. “Is she dead?”

Konrad grimaced. “Almost worse than that.”

Jouglet gasped. “Has she been violated?”

This cemented the attention of all those who had been only half paying attention.

Konrad grimaced harder and shook his head. “It would almost have been better for her if she had been. Then she could at least claim to have an unsullied reputation.” Seeing the minstrel’s consternation, Konrad sighed and gestured Jouglet to come up into his suite. “Willem wouldn’t keep this from you, but he’s too upset to speak right now. Come inside, then, but you must swear to me this will not end up in one of your little songs.”

The instant the door closed behind them, the eavesdroppers in the courtyard and open windows turned to their neighbors with eager speculation.

There was one hard, angry knock on the door. Marcus took a deep breath and prepared himself to face Willem.

But when he unbolted the door and stepped aside, what flew into his anteroom was half Willem’s size and almost unrecognizable with rage. Jouglet slammed the door closed, hard, then turned on Marcus, who jumped back in surprise and almost tripped. Jouglet leapt at him and had him by the collar, practically spitting on him. “How did you really learn about that rose?” the minstrel hissed.

Marcus was prepared to be confronted, but not this way, and certainly not by this adversary. “I saw it when we lay together,” he said stiffly and wrestled Jouglet off his collar. “Calm yourself, lad. The windows are open, they’ll hear you in the courtyard.”

“You are lying,” Jouglet snarled, shaking a curled fist under his nose. “It never happened. I know that girl, and anyhow, her brother locks her up like a king’s coffer when he’s away, you would never have had the chance.”

“I explained to His Majesty the details of the story because it concerns him,” Marcus said and coughed, straightening his neat clothes. Wincing, he rubbed his upper arm where Konrad had grabbed him. “It does not concern you. I’m remorseful enough about it, please go away.”

Jouglet ran to the window and heaved the heavy wooden shutters closed. The room darkened and instantly felt smaller. “This is a lady’s honor you are playing with! Her entire life!” she snapped furiously.

“I know that,” Marcus said, barely above a whisper. “I am more concerned with a lady’s honor than anyone at court. Leave me, Jouglet— “

Jouglet stamped one booted foot hard and grunted with frustration. “It is not too late to unsay it, Marcus. You didn’t do it, she didn’t do it. Do not impinge her honor!”
And ruin all my plans,
she added to herself, almost sick with rage.

“What do you know about a lady’s honor, you hypocrite,” Marcus scoffed. “You’ve never known anything but whores. Get out of my room.”

“Tell me why you did this,” Jouglet demanded through clenched teeth. “Willem’s no threat to you, Konrad will give you a duchy someday! What do you gain by such convoluted treachery? I’m not leaving here until I understand the fullness of your mischief. After all I’ve done in your interest!”

“There was no
mischief,
” Marcus protested, marveling at his new ability to lie so fluidly. Already the bar of cold tin at the back of his throat was disappearing. “I was approached by a beautiful young woman who literally threw herself at me— she did not tell me who she was until afterward. I would still protect her reputation, Jouglet, I would only the emperor had known— if it becomes common knowledge it’s because
you
are running around shrieking about it, not I. She lost her honor on her own— she’ll lose her reputation thanks to
you.
”