Lady of Luxembourg, page 1
part #4 of Curse of the Lost Isle Series
LADY OF LUXEMBOURG
Curse of the Lost Isle Book 4
by
Vijaya Schartz
ISBN: 978-1-77145-071-3
PUBLISHED BY:
Books We Love Ltd.
(Electronic Book Publishers)
Chestermere, Alberta
Canada
http://bookswelove.net
Copyright 2013 by Vijaya Schartz
Cover Art Copyright 2013 by Michelle Lee
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Chapter One
Luxembourg, Early spring, 978
A frantic horn sounded on the rampart. Melusine threw open the wooden shutters to gaze through the window of the keep’s solar, shading her eyes against the rising sun. On the road far below, a knight in chainmail galloped hard toward the fortress, the belly of his destrier low to the dusty ground.
She watched him cross the arched stone bridge spanning the Alzette River, then disappear from view as he ascended the trail leading up the cliff to the high plateau. It was too early in the day for a casual visit, and the rider seemed in a hurry. A messenger, no doubt.
“Alyx!” Melusine held up her small mirror of polished silver and met her clear gray gaze, then she drew back a lock of long, sun-streaked hair behind her yellow-clad shoulders.
“M’lady?” Alyx stood in the open door frame. Slightly round with her third child, the dark-haired lady looked radiant. After the tragic death of her first love years ago, she’d finally wed the captain of Sigefroi’s guard and ripened into a lush woman.
Melusine smiled. “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.”
With Alyx in tow, Melusine led the way down the narrow stairs of the tower. They stepped into the bailey as curious soldiers and castle folk gathered near the open gate in a buzz of eager whispers carried by the spring breeze.
Sigefroi walked resolutely toward Melusine, his forehead shiny from the fencing yard. The morning sun set aflame his reddish gold hair. He tossed his practice sword to a squire and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his white tunic. A triangle of moisture stained the red prancing lion embroidered on his chest.
Melusine took hold of his muscled arm and leaned against his tall frame as they wove through the parting crowd. How she relished his scent of clean soap and male. “Who is coming?”
“One of our secret observers at the French court.” Sigefroi grinned and patted her hand on his arm. “Good news I hope.”
Melusine’s insides warmed at his familiar touch. She glanced up at her husband’s smooth, cheerful face. Sigefroi had grown younger and handsomer since taking her elixir. Although well past fifty, he looked like a young knight. He might not be immortal like her, but she would keep him vigorous and healthy for many decades to come. In truth, she couldn’t imagine life without him.
Hooves clattered on the drawbridge across the narrow gorge separating the main plateau from the Bock, the rocky needle on which Sigefroi had erected his fortress. The destrier galloped through the open gate then reared at the sight of the small gathering, nearly unhorsing the rider.
The knight spotted Sigefroi and Melusine, then directed his mount toward them. He dismounted in a jingle of mail, lifted his helmet, set it under his arm and bowed deeply.
“My lord,” he sputtered between broken breaths, then raised his weathered face. Gray hair escaped from his mail hauberk. “The Archbishop of Verdun is marching upon Luxembourg with his army.”
“By Saint Peter’s balls!” Sigefroi uttered under his breath, slamming a fist into his hand.
Melusine swallowed a lump in her throat. “What?”
“That blasted archbishop be damned to hell!” Sigefroi’s brow knit and his jaw clenched. “I hoped it would not come to this.”
Despite the archbishop’s implacable hatred for Sigefroi’s family, Melusine never believed he would dare attack the stronghold of Luxembourg.
The old knight caught his breath and color filled his face as he explained. “The archbishop has over two thousand riders, my lord,” he went on in an eager voice. “And a great army of foot soldiers. They should be less than three days behind me.”
“Three days?” Melusine shuddered as she counted the days in her mind. The timing couldn’t possibly be worse.
“Not much time, but enough.” Sigefroi flashed the old spy a quick smile and patted his armored shoulder. “You did good work and will be rewarded. Now, get some food and rest.”
The knight acquiesced, turned around and walked away, a proud spring in his jingling step.
Sigefroi signaled his captain of the guard, who was exchanging worried glances with Alyx. “Send a messenger to Gunter in Saarburg, and one to my brother, the Duke of High Lorraine, before the pig of Verdun controls the roads. Ask them to send their armies at once. We need to teach that pesky archbishop a lesson.”
“Aye, my lord.” The captain bowed and hurried away.
Melusine stood there, in utter shock. Why hadn’t she foreseen the danger? Wrapped up in her princely bliss, she had relaxed her vigilance and failed to warn those she loved.
Sigefroi faced her and met her gaze. “Can you prepare the castle and make sure all our people are safe inside the walls?”
Aware of Alyx moving closer to her, Melusine nodded. “Are we preparing for a long siege?”
“If our messengers get through, no more than a week.” Sigefroi’s hazel eyes darkened despite the morning light. “But if they are delayed, it could be a month or more. We only have a few hundred soldiers here.”
Alyx stepped forward, eyes wide and round. “But the walls will keep us safe, right my lord?”
Sigefroi pressed his lips and nodded. “These walls have never been breached. And as soon as our armies arrive, it will be all over for the archbishop.”
A strange sensation wrenched Melusine’s gut. How could she have missed the portents of war? She had let danger creep up on her home. May the Great Goddess protect Luxembourg.
* * *
While Sigefroi gathered his war council, Melusine hurried with Alyx across the drawbridge linking the fortress to the main plateau, and the fortified town across the narrow gorge. Looking down at the bottom of the high cliff, she could see the familiar Alzette River flowing under the many arches of the bridge.
“Do not worry, Alyx.” She forced a smile for the woman’s benefit. “The castle of Luxembourg is well protected on its perch.” But Melusine couldn’t ignore the ominous presentiment that something had gone terribly wrong.
Alyx went knocking on doors to bring the townspeople to the market place. After they assembled, Melusine climbed upon a large barrel to be seen. Facing her people, she spoke calmly, using her Fae gifts to infuse her message with serene urgency, so they would comply without panicking.
“The strongest men among you will join the soldiers atop the fortifications. All the farms outside the wall must be evacuated, families and livestock.”
Looking into her people’s worried faces, Melusine imprinted upon them the gravity of the situation. Nothing like this had happened since the barbarian invasions many decades ago. “Make sure everyone is warned. Spread the message to the tanneries, the mills, and the fisheries at the foot of the cliff on the river bank. They must all take refuge inside the walls... including the priest from the little wooden church by the river.”
She shuddered at the thought of a priest inside the fortress. Priests wielded the bane of her kind... holy water. But she couldn’t leave anyone behind. Bloodthirsty soldiers in the lust of battle would rape and kill those left outside, women, children, or priests alike.
After giving each villager specific orders, Melusine returned to the castle with Alyx, followed by a number of townspeople carrying baskets of victuals for the larder. Children armed with sticks herded pigs, goats, and geese.
Alyx glanced at Melusine, alarm in her wide eyes. “What shall we do with all these people, my lady?”
Melusine offered a reassuring smile. “We’ll house the mothers with small babes in the women’s quarters of the keep.”
Alyx nodded gravely. “What about the others?”
“The older children can sleep in the barn.” Melusine pointed to the fencing yard. “See that the flocks of geese, the goats and the pigs are penned over there.”
“And the cows?” Some calm returned to the faithful Alyx.
“In the patch of grass by the stable.” Melusine infused her voice with serene authority. “We’ll also need more hands in the kitchen.”
“Aye. That we do.” Alyx offered a small smile.
“The kitchen help can sleep in the main hall with the servants.” Melusine indicated the main hall. “As for the men, they will lodge in the barracks with the soldiers.”
Alyx nodded. “What about the food?”
“Fortunately, the castle has a well-stocked larder.” Melusine sighed. “Still, we need to butcher three fat pigs and two heifers. Can you see to it?”
“Aye, m’lady.” Alyx bobbed and left.
Soon, the sweet, coppery smell of fresh blood traveled on the breeze from the slaughterhouse, attracting early spring flies. The meat would help feed the extra mouths in the difficult days or weeks to come, and the preparation of the anima
Melusine spent most of the day assigning a task to each able body in the fortress.
But as she gazed upon the buzzing bailey later that day, she realized she had worse problems. In three days, it would be her fated Wednesday, the single day each month when her Fae curse manifested. She shuddered at the thought that by then, the castle might be under siege.
Tuesday evening, at sunset, she would transform into a water serpent from the navel down. If exposed in ondine form, the good people of Luxembourg would judge her as a spawn of Satan and condemn her to burn at the stake. For a water creature like her, death by fire would kill in the most horrible and painful way. She shrugged away the thought.
Fortunately, she could count on Sigefroi’s love and support. He would never betray her secret, of course, but how could he justify her absence in such dire times? And who would see to the emergencies bound to occur during a siege? While she kept out of sight, there would be no one to tend the wounded or prevent panic, or arbitrate any discontent among the many common folk packed in the fortress.
The wrenching in her gut made Melusine flinch.
Dear Goddess, protect us all.
* * *
The archbishop’s armies arrived one day earlier than expected. Atop the rampart, Melusine sidled closer to Sigefroi and watched as two thousand riders spread and set camp on the far side of the Alzette River. Their forces encircled the cliffs of Luxembourg... safely out of crossbow range.
“Damn the pig of Verdun!” Sigefroi pommeled the stone of the battlement with one fist. “They rode hard in hopes to catch us unprepared.”
Melusine squeezed his arm through the chainmail. “But we are prepared, my lord. Our people are safe, and our messengers have left in plenty of time.”
“Right.” Sigefroi’s jaw muscle jumped slightly.
Melusine took heart in the might of Luxembourg, and the fact that Sigefroi had been warned. It bothered her, however, that she had not foreseen the danger.
“Look!” She pointed to a portly knight in black armor, giving orders from the height of his black destrier.
“That’s the archbishop,” Sigefroi spat between clenched teeth.
“I feel sorry for the poor beast carrying such a weight.” She hated the self-indulgent archbishop and his obstinate claim to Luxembourg.
A tinkling of chainmail and armor on the breeze called her attention to the bottom of the gorge. “Look, enemy sentinels are lining up to guard the bridge.”
The regular planes of Sigefroi’s face tensed. He pointed to a newly erected tent on the far bank. “That must be the archbishop’s tent with yellow and black pennants floating in the breeze.”
Melusine sighed deeply. “I hate the fact that wars always break in balmy weather, as if to spoil the nicest time of year.”
“There is a good reason for that,” Sigefroi said grimly.
“I know. War horses need lush grass to graze.” But Melusine couldn’t help her resentment. “Will they attack today?”
“Nay.” Sigefroi shook his head. “This is only the vanguard. The archbishop will wait for his entire army to arrive before mounting an assault... I know I would.”
“There.” Melusine indicated the road, where a cortege of foot soldiers escorted a convoy of long, ghastly structures, pulled by teams of oxen. “What are these?”
“War towers.” Sigefroi spat under his breath.
Melusine had never seen such contraptions in life or on parchment. “They seem enormous. Can we hold against such towers?”
Sigefroi slammed the stone of the battlement with his palm. “By Saint Peter’s balls, we shall find out.”
On the eastern road ascending the plateau, far in the distance, more men and carts with long ladders headed for the fortified town linked to the castle by the drawbridge.
If at first Melusine thought the archbishop did not stand a chance against Luxembourg, now she wondered. “I have a bad feeling about these war towers.”
Sigefroi encircled her shoulders. “You designed this fortress to be impregnable. It has never been breached, and we have four hundred soldiers inside.”
Melusine forced a smile at the compliment and leaned against his solid chest. “But the reinforcements from Saarburg and Lorraine are still several days away.”
* * *
That night, Melusine tossed and turned and couldn’t sleep. Sigefroi, who spent the night planning his defense, never joined her in the bed furs. Many times she rose and peered into the night through the open window.
Torches burned everywhere. The entire fortress seemed awake. Beyond the walls, a thickening mist covered the river, filling the gorge. She could not see the enemy or their war towers, but ominous muffled sounds of strange activity reached her from the enemy camp. Obviously, they prepared a morning attack.
Finally, at dawn, a muffled horn warned the castle defenders that the enemy was on the move. From the high window of the keep, Melusine only saw a sea of gray fog bathing the ramparts, but she could sense impending peril.
Dressing quickly, she ran down the stairs, crossed the bailey, then climbed the open stone steps leading up the ramparts to the wall walk. Sigefroi stood there, behind the curtain wall. He pointed through a crenellation to the ladder-like towers rising above the fog, like ghostly skeletons.
Perched on the rungs, armed men stared at the ramparts from across the sea of fog, quiet and immobile like gray scarecrows. Then the impossibly tall structures squeaked as they slowly lurched toward the battlements.
Melusine hugged herself and edged closer to Sigefroi. “How and when did they cross the river?”
Sigefroi’s gaze narrowed upon the advancing ghosts. “It must have been the noise we heard during the night.”
Melusine held her breath, fascinated by the surreal sight, as if the towers floated on the fog.
Sigefroi squeezed her shoulder. “Take cover, now!”
Jarred out of her stupor, Melusine retreated to the safety of the curtain wall but kept watching.
Sigefroi gave a brief order. At the muffled notes of a horn, a volley of arrows whistled from the archer slits in the turrets. A few enemy ghosts fell into the thick mist with nary a sound.
Answering another horn, more archers on the battlements targeted the enemy from the front. Sheltered behind stone, Melusine heard the knock of arrows on wooden shields, then screams of pain and fear, and the muffled impact of wounded enemies falling to the bedrock far below.
The men on the ramparts cheered. Melusine flinched at the horror of warfare. Turning away from the slaughter, she hurried down the wall stairs. She must keep the people of Luxembourg safe.
* * *
Sigefroi had anticipated the archbishop’s move and congratulated himself for the readiness of his archers. The archbishop intended to take the fortress swiftly. He had brought his own war ladders and towers, rather than taking the time to build them from the surrounding woods.
If the pig of Verdun succeeded, the rotten scoundrel could withstand any siege from inside, and could even take legitimate ownership of Luxembourg. After all he had a valid claim. Sigefroi’s grandsire had killed the archbishop’s father to appropriate his lands.
But Sigefroi had purchased Luxembourg as a piece of rock, and built his fortress from the ground up. He refused to let the archbishop or anyone else take it from him, now that it had become a prosperous town.
More towers kept rising from the mist and more enemy soldiers climbed the rungs. Luxembourg archers picked the easy targets and hit their mark each time, eliciting cries from the enemy and cheers on the ramparts.
Invigorated by the sounds and smells of battle, Sigefroi grasped Caliburn’s hilt. The enchanted sword, a gift from Melusine, made his arm invincible. And thanks to a nightly dose of her elixir, he could still fight like a young man.
But he knew from his long experience as a warrior, that nothing in war was ever for certain. He must keep a clear head and follow the battle plan. Gunter and the armies of Saarburg and Lorraine still lay several days away.
“Fire flaming bolts!” Sigefroi ordered. The killing seemed too easy. He wondered how long this little game of intimidation would last. The flaming arrows, dipped in burning pitch, failed to catch the towers on fire.
