We ride out with de Lornay as far as a small ridge that overlooks Nantes. From this vantage point we watch him ride down to the city gates. “You don’t think they will slay him unheard, do you?” I ask Beast.
His brows fly up in mock surprise. “Do not tell me you’ve developed a soft spot for our Lord Dandy.”
“Not at all,” I say coolly. “I merely want to be certain the duchess’s message has a chance of being heard.”
“Ah,” Beast says, but he is not fooled. “Since Rieux and d’Albret hope to use Nantes as leverage to force the duchess to accept their terms, I think they will be more than willing to speak with de Lornay.”
Just as Beast predicted, one of the city gates opens and a small party rides out to meet de Lornay and the two archers that have accompanied him. It is a distressingly short meeting.
when de Lornay returns there is thunder in his eyes, and my heart sinks. “Marshal Rieux will not discuss terms with me. He insists on meeting the duchess face to face and will speak only with her. He suggests noon tomorrow. we are to meet him on the field below. we may escort her as far as the field, but only the duchess and ten archers will be allowed into the city. Neither Captain Dunois nor the Baron de waroch nor myself are to accompany her. Neither is the assassin.”
It takes a moment to realize he means me.
“I do not like it,” Captain Dunois says at once. “It stinks too much of a trap.”
“Then we will just have to make sure he does not catch us unawares,” the duchess says. “Tell Marshal Rieux I will meet with him then.”
The next morning dawns crisp and clear. Captain Dunois was afraid that the mists would move in and obscure our view of the city, thus hiding any treachery Rieux or d’Albret have planned, for he is sure that they are planning something. But the gods have smiled on us in their choice of weather for today. The duchess has her heart set on speaking to Marshal Rieux.
She has even decided to apologize to him for appearing to dismiss his counsel. It is a big step for her, but she wants him to see that she is willing to bend on some things.
Our entire party rides with her into the valley. we stop a short way from the city walls and wait. At noon exactly, the city gates open, and Marshal Rieux rides out with an escort of four men-at-arms. we all draw around the duchess, waiting to be certain it is not a trap. when no more riders appear at the gate, we give way so that Anne and the marshal may talk.
Marshal Rieux reins his horse in a few feet from the duchess. “Your Grace.”
“Marshal Rieux.”
“If you will leave all but ten unarmed archers behind, I will
be happy to escort you into the city.”
Dunois has made her promise she will not enter the city without her full guard in attendance. “But it is my city, Marshal, my men, my home. I will be received in the manner befitting a duchess, not snuck in like some thief in the night.”
“Then we are at an impasse, Your Grace.” He starts to turn away, but her clear young voice stops him.
“Did you know the French have crossed our borders?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Hopefully, that will spur you to come to your senses and reconcile with Count d’Albret.”
Captain Dunois gives a snort of disgust, but the duchess holds out a hand to silence him. “Did you know they have taken Ancenis?”
Marshal Rieux slowly wheels his horse around. “Ancenis?”
The duchess nods. “At this very minute, they occupy your own holding.”
Her announcement has the desired effect. Shock registers on Marshal Rieux’s face, then disbelief. “You lie.”
“Marshal Rieux! Remember who you are speaking to,” Captain Dunois reminds him.
"Why should I believe this claim?” the marshal asks.
"Why would we lie?” the duchess says. “It is easy enough for you to confirm. Send a rider, if you like.”
Rieux hesitates a moment, then nods at two of his men. They peel away from the party and turn their horses toward the road for Ancenis. “It will still gain you nothing,” he says, but his voice rings less certain.
Captain Dunois spurs his horse forward. “Jean!” he says. “Surely you do not mean to let the French benefit from this rift between you and the duchess.”
The marshal says something I cannot hear, for the two men have drawn closer now and speak in low, urgent voices. I cannot say what compels me to look away from these fierce negotiations, but something does, some small flicker of premonition, or perhaps it is Saint Mortain Himself whispering in my ear, saying, There. Look there. However it happens, my gaze is drawn to the ramparts of the keep and I see a slender shadow detach itself from the stone wall. The slim figure walks to the very edge of the ramparts, so close that I fear she will throw herself off the crenelation to her death.
But no. She stays just inside the edge of the stone and looks out across the river and the fields and the fighting men. At me.
even from so far, I feel when our gazes meet, and in that moment I know that it is Sybella. The furtiveness of her movements tells me she has put herself in serious danger by being there. when she is sure she has my attention, she draws her arm across her body, then flings it out, as if she were throwing something. Scattering seed to the wind, perhaps? Or casting crumbs on the water of the moat? I glance down at the moat to see if there is some clue there. That is when I see the postern gate open and two columns of troops pour out. Troops clad in blue and yellow tabards. D’Albret’s colors.
I look back up at Sybella and she makes the gesture again.
She is not throwing something. She is telling us to flee.
Chapter Fifty-one
A dozen men, two dozen men. I stop counting as I near fifty. “Captain Dunois!” I cry out.
At my warning, Marshal Rieux looks up. His eyes register the reinforcements, and then he and the rest of his party wheel around and gallop back for the city. Their job is done; they have distracted us long enough for d’Albret to spring his trap. Dunois’s normally ruddy complexion pales when he sees the troops pouring from the gate. “Your Grace, we must get you to safety.” He begins barking orders. "Waroch! De Lornay! You take the men to meet the approaching line. You three” — he points to the two largest of his guardsmen and myself — “come with me. we will guard the duchess’s retreat.”
As we turn our horses around, the south postern gate opens and a second column of mounted soldiers streams out. They mean to box us in.