The Blood Knight - J. Gregory Keyes [67]
“You think Robert won’t see through that?”
“I think we have a little time, dove,” Elyoner assured him. “Time enough to eat and drink and rest. The morning is early enough for plans, I should think. No, we need to be fresh when we discuss what to do next. After all, you didn’t imagine that you were just going to ride up to Eslen and demand that they open the city gates, did you?”
Neil felt his mouth twist a bit.
“Well, that’s the problem,” he replied. “If I may be candid, Duchess…”
“You may be as candid with me as you like,” she said wryly. “Or you may deceive and taunt me. Either way, I will find my amusement.” Her lips bowed slightly.
“I’ve fought in many battles,” Neil said, ignoring her flirtation. “My father first gave me a spear when I was nine, to kill Weihand raiders who were in the employ of Hansa. After my fah died, Baron Fail de Liery took me into his household, and I battled for him.
“Now I’m a knight of Crotheny. But I’ve little knowledge of how to wage a war, you see. I’ve led raids and defended redoubts, but taking a city and a fortress, especially one like Eslen—that’s not something I know how to do. Nor, I fear, does Anne.”
“I know,” Elyoner agreed. “It’s all so precious, this campaign of yours. But you see, my dear, that’s all the more reason you should spend a little time with me. So I can introduce you to the right people.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please have a little patience, dove. Trust Elyoner. Have I ever given you poor advice?”
“I can think of one instance,” Neil said stiffly.
“No,” Elyoner said softly. “I don’t think so. That it didn’t turn out well was no fault of mine. Your tryst with Fastia wasn’t the cause of her death, Sir Neil. She was killed by evil men. Do you think a knight who did not love her could have saved her?”
“I was distracted,” Neil said.
“I don’t believe that. Muriele didn’t, and I’m sure Fastia would never blame you. Nor would she want you to weep overlong. I know you have mourned her, but she is gone, and you yet live. You should—oh, my.”
Neil felt his cheeks burn.
“Sir Neil?”
“Duchess?”
“You’re face is so charmingly transparent. You looked so guilty just now. Who has taken your fancy?”
“No one,” Neil replied quickly.
“Hah. You mean you wish no one had. You mean someone has, but you think it’s wrong, somehow. Guilt is your real lover, sir knight. Name to me one woman you have loved when you did not feel guilty for the affection.”
“Please, Duchess, I don’t wish to discuss this.”
“Perhaps you need more of my herbal concoction.”
Neil gazed desperately ahead, hoping for relief from the conversation. The mansion was so very far from the gates. It hadn’t seemed this far before.
Since finding Anne in Dunmrogh, he had managed to keep his heart silent, but Glenchest was waking it again. He remembered riding here the first time, on a much more carefree outing. He remembered Fastia, weaving him a chain of flowers to wear around his neck. And then later, after much drinking, she had come to his room…
The daughter of my queen, whom I was sworn to protect. A married woman.
She had died in his arms, and he had thought his heart was so shattered that it could never feel again.
Until he met Brinna, who saved his life and sacrificed her dream so he might pursue his duty. He did not love her, not as he had Fastia, but there was something there.
Where was she now? Dead also? Returned to the prison she had fled?
“Poor thing.” Elyoner sighed. “Poor thing. Your heart is made for tragedy, I fear.”
“That is why my one love must be my duty,” he replied, speaking stiffly again.
“And that would be the greatest tragedy of all,” Elyoner replied, “if I thought you could stick to that. But your heart is far too romantic to close all of its portals.”
And finally, too late, they reached the gates of the manse.
Cazio put his hand against the wall to hold it up, belched, and lifted the carafe of wine to his lips, swallowing deeply.
The vintage was unlike any he had ever had: