Even though I have bathed and now wear clean clothes, I still feel dirty in some way I cannot name, as if the taint of being a d’Albret will never leave. The maps have been put away, and instead there are flagons of wine set upon the table, as well as fine silver goblets.
My eyes are drawn immediately to a corner of the room near the head of the council table. Beast is here. They have brought him over on a litter and have rigged some sort of chair and stool for him so he can sit with his leg elevated. He is none too pleased about it and keeps trying to stand up. “I should not be sitting in the presence of the duchess,” he grumbles.
The nun in the blue habit of Saint Brigantia patiently points out that all the other councilors and advisors do.
“But I am a mere knight, not a councilor.”
“Well,” the duchess herself says, putting the matter to rest, “you are now. I appoint you, Sir Benebic Waroch, to my high council so you may advise me on how best to win this war. What say you?”
The look of surprise on his face is near comical. “I humbly accept, Your Grace.” He moves to stand and bow, but the nun pushes him back in the chair.
The duchess turns to me. “I trust you are more comfortable now,” she says kindly.
“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you for your consideration.”
“It is the least I can do for one who has served me so well.” She motions to Duval, who shows me to a chair of my own and hands me a goblet of wine. I take it, glad to have something to hold, and glance uneasily at the others in the rooms, some of whose names I do not even know.
Catching the drift of my thoughts, Duval says, “Perhaps some introductions are in order.” His mouth quirks charmingly. “The abbess and Beast you already know. This is Chancellor Montauban, who fought at my father’s side in many battles. Jean de Chalon, the duchess’s cousin, just recently released from his arrest by the French regent. Captain Dunois, whom I believe you saw carry the duchess to safety on his horse, and the bishop of Rennes, who placed the crown of office on her head with his own hands. The rest, I believe, are known to you. So now we would hear of d’Albret’s plans, my lady.”
I take a deep breath. “D’Albret has not given up his plan to marry the duchess, and will do so by force, if necessary.”
Captain Dunois snorts. “He made that clear when he sprung the trap outside Nantes. He cannot think we are foolish enough to give him a second chance to trick us.”
His dismissal pricks at me, but Ismae rushes in. “It was Sybella who warned us of that trap,” she gently points out.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the abbess’s eyebrows lift in surprise.
Captain Dunois bows his head to me. “Then it seems we owe you more thanks, my lady, for you saved us all from certain disaster. But surely she is safe from him now.”
I shake my head. “No. She is not. For that is not the end of it. Even now, he makes plans to march on Rennes.”
A moment of silence fills the room, and then Captain Dunois scowls. “He would not be so foolish.”
“Not to mention that it is impossible,” Chancellor Montauban points out. “The walls are twelve feet thick, more than enough protection against any attack he could bring.”
I lean forward. “Provided the attack come from within.”
Another stunned silence fills the room. I have their full attention now. “Count d’Albret is not only ruthless, but cunning as well. He has already begun sending small groups of his own men to infiltrate the city. Then, when he is ready, he will march on Rennes and send the word for them to open the gates and allow his troops to break the siege.”
“But knowing this, we can stop him. We have over eight thousand troops stationed here in Rennes, more than a match for a handful of his,” Dunois says.
“Are you certain? Do you know every one of your men by sight, Captain? Is it not within those very numbers than many of d’Albret’s saboteurs can hide unnoticed?”
The captain clenches his jaw but says nothing, so I continue. “I do not think you understand the true nature of his ruthlessness. He will show no mercy. The war he will wage is intended to sap the courage from men’s hearts. He will take no prisoners, grant no quarter, collect no ransom.”
“That goes against all rules of war and honorable conduct, demoiselle, and is a most grave accusation,” Chancellor Montauban says. “I assume you have good reason to make it.”
Disappointment as bitter as acid rises in my gut. Why did I think they would believe me?
“She does.” It is the duchess who has spoken, and all in the room turn to look at her. “Do not forget, this man tried to entrap me when we parleyed in good faith with Marshal Rieux. That is not the mark of a man who respects the rules of engagement. Further, he did try to accost me in the halls of Guérande—would have succeeded if Ismae had not stopped him.”
This shocks nearly everyone in the room—everyone except Ismae, Duval, and Beast.
“Are you certain you did not misunderstand his intention, Your Grace?” the bishop asks, and I want to slap his soft, white jowls.
“I am certain,” she says shortly.
While everyone is reeling from this revelation, I decide to try a new approach. “May I tell you of how they took Nantes?” I ask, my voice deceptively sweet.
“By all means, demoiselle,” Captain Dunois says. “I would very much like to hear it.”
“Very well.” I take a fortifying sip of the wine, then begin. “With Marshal Rieux at the head of our column, we were welcomed by the city with open arms. At first they thought the duchess had returned, and while they were disappointed she was not among the party, they did not understand the full treachery that was taking place.
“Once d’Albret and Rieux gained the castle, they bolted the doors and gave the retainers a choice. At the point of a sword. They could renounce the duchess and live. That was their only choice.”
I stare into the flames burning in the fireplace. “Lords Roscoff and Vitre died that night. Lords Mathurin, Julliers, Vienne, and Blaine renounced the duchess and swore loyalty to d’Albret and Marshal Rieux.” I glance up and meet the duchess’s stricken eyes. “Your humbler servants were more loyal, Your Grace. A full half of them lost their lives that day.
“When a contingent of burghers arrived from the city demanding to know what was going on, troops were sent into town to rape their wives and daughters, thus ensuring their cooperation. It did not take long for d’Albret to exert his will and his own special brand of terror over the entire city.”