her rosary hanging from her belt. I’d, I’ve spent hours trying to remember when was the last time I saw it… and it was the day my brother left. She took it off after leaving chapel and… sort of spilled it from one hand to the other before tucking it into her pocket. And I can’t remember seeing it ever again. Or her locket of the Annunciation that Papa gave her, years and years ago.”
Huon turned to Yseult. “Really?” he asked, his voice cracking, “Really? She wasn’t a good daughter of Mother Church? She was so proud of being a true…”
His voice fell to a half sob. Yseult squeezed his hand, but shook her head sadly.
“And so,” said the Regent. “I still do not know who sought out who. This is crucial. If CUT agents are actively recruiting, we must seek them out and take them in custody; and we may have a very serious problem with opportunistic treason. And winning battles will not win us the war. If, however, Mary sought them out, we probably have many fewer disaffected people to worry about. You children, then, are a problem. Are you hidden agents? What were called ‘sleepers’ in the language of my youth, or are you innocent children? Could Mary have placed some hold on you that will erupt through you at some point, will you-nill you? My decision on your destiny today rests on that question.”
Yseult sighed and rubbed one hand over her forehead. It gave her a headache just trying to think like that.
Huon let go of her hand and stepped forward. “Madame, I am your loyal subject, and through you, that of the Princess my brother honors above all women. What oath would you require of me? I will swear whatever you wish with as many priests and witnesses as you feel necessary.”
Yseult felt her heart swell with pride and love for her brother. “Yes, Madame, yes. What do you require of us?”
The Regent’s face was smooth, bland; only her eyes, those dark chocolate eyes, held emotion. It was something cold and bitter and distant.
“The problem with that,” she said dryly, “is that a traitor will, by definition, swear false oaths. A capable traitor will do so convincingly.”
Yseult felt her mouth drop open slightly. But… but if oaths have no power, the world would fall apart! she thought, appalled. What was lordship and vassalage if not a network of oaths?
“I believe you are sincere now,” Sandra said. “I flatter myself that I am something of a judge of people, and you two are vastly less experienced than I in the ways of the world. But should your mother come and beg of you to hide a ring, pass on a message or put powder in my soup or tea… what would you do then?”
Yseult opened her mouth and paused, hesitated and looked at her brother.
“Instruct us, my lady. Whatever you require of us, I will swear to do. Do you require us to forswear our mother?”
Huon’s voice was firm, but he paled. She trembled, reaching for Huon’s hand. Bitter tears rose and pooled under her lids.
Mama! How could you? You have destroyed us! How can we make ourselves clean?
She gripped Huon’s hand harder. He brought it out and patted it.
The Regent considered for a moment and moved a finger. The priest brought out the Bible and relics again, and Yseult put a trembling hand on the holy things.
“Do you swear on oath, on your soul and hope of salvation, that you believe your mother the Lady Mary Liu, Dowager Baroness Gervais, to be guilty of conspiracy against the Throne and hence of High Treason?”
“Y-” Yseult cleared her throat. “Yes.”
Huon echoed her, misery in his tone.
“Do you swear on oath, on your soul and hope of salvation that for this your lady mother deserves death?”
A second, and then they both answered: “Yes.” The word blurred as their voices overlapped.
“Very well,” Sandra said. “That is unequivocal enough. Let it be so recorded.”
The Grand Constable spoke: “You are taken in ward by the Lady Regent and will be assigned guardians who will stand in loco parentis to you.”
Her voice was like winter water running over river stones. Yseult frowned at her, again.
Cold, she’s so cold. Brrr! I wonder how Lady d’Stafford can bear to be her Chatelaine? She’s so pleasant, and such a good mother.
Huon asked, his voice suddenly deeper. “We understand. And I do see why you must doubt us, my lady Regent, my lords, my ladies. Do we stay here in cells?”
“No,” said the Lady Regent, leaning back slightly in the high carved chair, and putting her hands under the cloak. “I need you out of the way, hard to find, and constantly watched. On the other hand, should this all be resolved and we defeat the CUT and Boise, then I wish you to be able to take your place in society without having to compensate for years imprisoned.”
“Thank you!” Yseult blurted, and then hastily added, “My lady Regent. We thank you for your gracious courtesy and mercy to us.”
The Regent smiled and shrugged. “If we are defeated, then I have no interest in what follows. I will be dead.”
Yseult shivered. “Don’t, my lady! Don’t! We must trust the Princess and the Mackenzie to bring the Sword of the Lady to rescue us in time.”
The Regent started to move her hand and then paused, looking as if she were struck by a sudden thought.
“You know, child, you may very well be right. Marvelous are the works of God. Very well. Mollala, will you and your mother harbor Huon, knowing that he might be a Trojan horse?”
The heavy-shouldered dark-skinned man stood and bowed.
“Yes, my lady Regent. I have grown fond of this boy, Gervais. I’ll keep him in ward and teach him well, and watch his very deeds and words. My mother spoke with me before I came here. She also will swear to watch this boy. Right now, she’s a little tied up with the hospital.”
Huon stood straighter; it occurred to Yseult that he’d been nerving himself to be brave as he was led away to something like her own imprisonment, possibly for years.
Mollala is going to have one very loyal page. And one very loyal friend in years to come as Baron of Gervais, she thought. That makes me feel warmer. That’s how the world is supposed to work!
The Regent turned to a quiet woman sitting next to Jehane. “Countess Anne, will you take the girl in ward?”
“Gladly. My sisters will be happy to have a companion close to their age. Yseult comes to us, moreover, with a reputation for fancy stitching. We will look to learn from her.”
The Regent nodded to Yseult, who frantically scanned through her knowledge of the Protectorate’s nobility.
Countess Anne? Tillamook! It’s very remote… it’s a poor county on the edge of nowhere, and there are raids from the Haida along the coast, but the Countess won’t be wearing wooden shoes!
She bowed her head; then she met the Regent’s eyes, seeing there a chilly approval.
I don’t envy the Princess, she thought. Not if she’s always on trial like that! Or is it different with those two?
Aloud she said, “Thank you, my lady Countess. I will try to be a good maid-in-waiting to you, and hopefully will learn of cheese making and preserves and perfumery.”
“You must understand,” said the Regent, “you are sent to Tillamook because I believe Countess Anne will detect treason very quickly, having had personal, close experience with one of the agents of CUT, previously.”
Anne, Countess of Tillamook coughed. “My lady Regent! I never said
…”
This time Sandra smiled openly. “No, you didn’t, my lady Countess, and I admire your discretion, but rest assured that I know a good many things people do not tell me.”
D’Ath spoke from her place by the window. “You didn’t say, but I did ask. I was ten days in your demesne… dealing… with that treasonous priest.”
Dealing? Yseult asked herself. Priests were supposed to be judged by ecclesiastical courts under canon law. Then: There are things I just don’t want to know.
