Page 375 of Historical Hotties
A wife. Arneau found that information quite interesting and possibly quite valuable.Le Foix spoke of a trap to catch the Beast… perhaps the wife could be used as bait?It was a thought-provoking prospect, indeed.
“Come into the common room and I shall give you your money,” Arneau said. “If you find out anything else about de Russe, come back and tell me. I will determine how much it is worth and pay for it.”
The soldier simply nodded, heading to the common room with Arneau following him. The barkeep went to his barback, the one that contained bottles of wine and barrels of ale, and went for the cash box which was camouflaged in an ale barrel. The soldier didn’t see where the cash came from but soon enough, Arneau put two gold crowns in his hand, crowns that were hundreds of years old and minted for the Roman Empire. The soldier nodded his head at the money in his palm, satisfied.
“I will not ask your name and you will not ask mine,” he said to Arneau. “It is safer that way.”
Arneau didn’t say a word. He pretended to be busy at the bar, wiping it down with a rough linen cloth and shaking the old wine out of the cups to be ready to use for the next customer. The soldier quit the tavern with the small barrel of wine over his shoulder, disappearing into the night, blending in with the darkness as he made his way back to the Tower.
Arneau kept busy until the man was sufficiently gone. A minute or two passed before Arneau even slowed down, his gaze moving to the tavern door, the last place he saw soldier. His first thought was of le Foix and he kicked the servant boy that was sleeping against the wall, sending the child running for the dark French soldier.
Nerves got the better of Arneau as he waited impatiently for le Foix to appear. He ended up drinking some of his own very bad wine, thinking it tasted terrible.What if this was all a trap? he wondered.What if de Russe sent the soldier with lies to send us off our course? Of course, that was foolish. De Russe didn’t know anything about him but it was possible he knew something of the Armagnacs. De Russe’s father had been sent a threatening note some time ago, after all. De Russe more than likely realized the Maid’s supporters were after him, but that was probably nothing new in his world.
Unnerved, Arneau waited until le Foix appeared some time later and took the man back into the storage room to explain his conversation with the English soldier. Le Foix didn’t seem to think it was a trap. On the contrary, he was thrilled with the information but not because of the mention of the new wife. Somehow, he seemed to forget their idea of setting a trap for de Russe. Le Foix was thrilled because he now knew the location of de Russe and, consequently, of de Russe’s possessions. He was positive that the relic, if it existed, was somewhere close to de Russe. He didn’t think the man would part with anything so valuable. He would keep it close to him.
Therefore, it made sense to go where de Russe was and take it from him. The more le Foix had thought on it, the more he believed that simply speaking to de Russe would not produce the relic. It would simply make de Russe leery of them and, quite possibly, angry. They were going to have to take the relic by force– take de Russe’s possessions and then look for anything that might appear as if had come from a woman who had been burned to death.
A bit of bone, even a tooth or something else that would have survived such heat. Le Foix was positive he would know it when he saw it. But they had to wait for the right time, when de Russe was away from his lodgings. Only then would they have unrestricted access to stealing all of de Russe’s possessions and, hopefully, make it appear as a theft and not as if they were looking for something in particular.
All I want is the relic,le Foix said.But if I have the opportunity to speak to de Russe, mayhap I can convince him to join our cause. If he helped the Maid, then surely he would want to continue her work. France must be free!
Arneau thought the latter part of that statement was laced with madness. In fact, all of this was starting to reek of madness. As the barkeep stood aside and nervously listened, le Foix plotted their next move.
*
When Bastian reachedhis bedchamber, he opened the door to find the room in a bit of disarray. Gisella had her capcases unpacked and there were garments, shoes, belts, and accessories on the bed, on the eating table, and on the floor. As he entered the chamber and quietly closed the door, locking it, Gisella looked up from where she was bent over the smaller capcase.
“That did not take long,” she said. “Your business with your knights must not have been very important for your conference with them to be so short.”
Bastian approached the bed, picking up a very silky shift, feeling the texture against the rough skin of his hand. It was arousing.
“It was important,” he said casually. “What are you doing?”
Gisella gestured to her cases. “I thought I should pull these garments out and at least put them on a peg and let them hang,” she said. “We are going to remain here for a time, aren’t we?”
Bastian nodded. “Aye.”
Gisella smiled at him as she went back to her garments, taking those off the bed and moving for the connecting dressing room where there were pegs on the wall to hang garments from.
Bastian could see her through the open door, moving around in the dark room. His thoughts were lingering on the meeting he had just come from and of the plans for the future. Gisella had to know about them. It was only fair, considering she was as involved at the root of the situation as he was. But the more he watched her, the more he began to wonder– was his vendetta against de la Pole purely one of honor? Or did it have to do with the fact that he actually felt something for his new wife? Had he not been fond of the woman, de la Pole’s strike wouldn’t have angered him. He would have punished the man purely out of personal honor. But what he was feeling went far beyond persona honor. A man dared to take a hand to a woman that was coming to mean a great deal to him. Her beauty, her humor, and her intelligence… all of it was coming to mean something to him and every time he thought on de la Pole taking a hand to that perfection, he wanted to rip the man’s head off.
But he was distracted from his thoughts when Gisella came out of the dressing room and gathered a few more garments that were laid across the bed. He watched her as she moved,so graceful and fluid. Now, if he was to see her hanging from a silken cord above a crowd, singing in her sweet voice, it would seriously arouse him. He would also be wildly furious at the fact that she wasn’t doing it for him alone. As she brushed past him, he spoke quietly.
“You may now tell me what happened at the Tower today,” he said, moving to the hearth where two comfortable chairs sat before the snapping blaze. “Why did you strike de la Pole? What did he say to upset you so?”
Gisella’s good humor vanished. Still holding the garments in her hand, she looked at him with an expression of both guilt and remorse. She struggled to tell him.
“He said vile things,” she finally said. “He said that you were evil.”
Bastian’s gaze was steady on her. “Men have declared me evil on many occasions but I did not slap them for it,” he said. “Tell me what de la Pole said to make you strike him. Tell me the truth.”
Gisella sighed faintly, knowing she had little choice but to tell him everything. She knew this moment would come and she had been anticipating it, but now she found that she was reluctant to tell him. He was a strong, virtuous knight and did not deserve the gossip thrown at him, especially by foolish young nobles. She sighed heavily.
“He said you are called Beast because you are evil and wicked,” she said quietly. “He said that you deflowered the Maid. So I slapped him.”
Bastian had suspected what de la Pole had said, or at least alluded to, so he wasn’t surprised. He could see that Gisella was upset by all of it, and rightly so. Rumors that he had never particularly cared about before were starting to get under his skin because they were affecting Gisella. He didn’t want her to be distressed by foolish whisperings simply because he didn’t liketo see her sad. He was indifferent enough to ride out the rumors, she was not.
Reaching out, he took her by the elbow and sat her down on the bed before collecting one of the chairs near the hearth and pulling it up alongside her. When he sat down, it was facing her, both of their expressions quite serious. Bastian spoke softly.
