Chapter 8.3

Lord Guerney’s letter lay among the scattered remains of our dinner. It began with a vague, non-committal missive, but ended with an assurance that the wedding would take place soon – no later than the next spring. With my hands I wove my version of events, and concluded with, “Marriage to Lady Laurice would result in your joining to a cruel and treacherous people. I think you should consider this before pursuing the matter.”

My lord smiled tightly and said, “Don’t forget, Gerard, that cruelty runs in my blood, as well.”

I was reminded of this every day. I chose my next words carefully. “It is their treachery which is most worrisome. The lady is more likely to find a child than admit to this falsehood. Lord Guerney will swear that this child is your son and heir, conceived after the legal betrothal. But he would raise the child to be loyal to himself, and when he is old enough, the child will come and kill you as you sleep. The the Lady Laurice...”

“What?” Lord Reinard shouted, startling Elise. “Where did that idea come from?”

“The Ballad of John Marks.”

Lord Reinard waved me off. “That wouldn’t happen. But he could use the child to embarrass me, should I try to break the betrothal. Which I will not do, because I will not lose the Eastern Green Forest.”

“Why, my lord, why do you want that thicket of half-dead trees and mud-clogged creeks? It is inhabited only by night monsters and the Silver-eyed.”

He scoffed. “You pagans are always running from your fairy tales. That wood had nothing worse in it than good hunting and good winter fuel. And control of it would shelter this castle from an attack from the north.”

Behind me, Elise muttered, “He hasn’t lived beside it, has he?”

“Still,” he went on. “I don’t care to have this seed of trouble waiting to grow. I must expose the Lady Laurice before he story bears fruit. How might we get her to come here?”

“Other than going to Rockridge and dragging her out, I don’t know.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And how shall we do this?”