Chateau of Echoes

these accounts.

This has satisfied Agnes.

thirteen days after Annonciation

The priest has come to teach me Breton. I took many notes of explanations, but after he left, I found I could not remember the sounds the letters must speak. They look the same as my own, but they speak with different accents, and sometimes so different an accent that they might as well be another letter entirely.

sixteen days after Annonciation

I worked all the long of the day on Breton, but I cannot guard it in my head. The structure is strange. The sounds are foreign. The words have no cousins in either of the languages I know.

seventeen days after Annonciation

Again the priest has come. I have fear that I do not please him: I had translated the phrases he had left into sounds using my own letters in the manner I am habituated.

And he says me that I cannot learn this way. And that it is not worth the effort to educate a woman. And if it were, why would I not wish to learn to write in Latin or in French.

And so I have shown him my journal, in which I write in French, and I have shown him my books, which I read in Latin. And I have told him also that he must keep his language for himself. There is no value in knowing a language which is no longer spoken at court.

day of Saints Jacques et Philippe

This day was a feast of which I was ignorant. On waking, Anne says me that this is the day of Saint Brieuc, but she had not the time to tell me of this saint, nor what he had done. And so I found my lord and demanded of him to tell me of this saint.

He replied to me that this is a founding saint of Bretagne. One of the seven who had given Bretagne the Christian faith. Saint Brieuc was taught by Germanus and performed many miracles and converted Cynan.

And I demanded of him who is Cynan, for of him I have heard nothing.

And he says me the follow:

Cynan was the son of the brother of Octavius the Old of Wales. And when Octavius will die, Cynan had thought to take the place of his uncle. But the daughter of his uncle was wed to a Roman, Magnus Maximus, and so Cynan must defeat the Roman before he can gain power. And this he tries, but in this he also fails. And so in place of becoming enemies, the Roman and Cynan become friends.

When the Roman takes the decision to travel to the Continent to become Emperor of the West Cynan takes the decision to come with him. And so Cynan kills the ruler of Armorica, here in Bretagne, and takes this position, and he and his men stay. But one problem is that they have no wives. And so Cynan demands of Donaut, the friend of his uncle, for many Cornish women. And it is decided that Cornwall and Armorica will be united when Cynan marries Ursula, the daughter of Donaut. But Ursula had wished to be a nun, and so she demands of Cynan some time to make a pilgrimage with eleven thousand girls. And this done, she and Cynan are wed in Rome by the pope.

But Ursula dies and Cynan does not marry again for many years, but becomes very powerful. And as his second wife, he takes the sister of Saint Patrick of Ireland. And when Cynan is dead, Armorica is divided in two to give to his sons who are Gradlon and Gadeon.

day of Ascension

This day I reminded myself that I have not learned of the other founding saints of Bretagne. And so again, I have searched my lord and in finding him, demanded the identity of the saints who remain. They are:

Saint Samson of Dol, who has the same day as Saint Nazaire. It was King Childebert who had named him bishop of Dol. Like the Samson of the Holy Bible, he had refused alcohol.

And there is Saint Pol Aurelian, also a bishop, who has the same day in spring as Saint Gregoire le Grand. He is said to have performed many miracles.

And Saint Tugdual, whom King Childebert named bishop of Treguier. He had come from Britain with his mother, sisters, and other relatives.

Saint Patern, who shares the day of the Venerable Cesar. He is come from Wales and was much known for his charity and mortifications.

Then Saint Malo who came to Bretagne with Saint Brendon himself.

And the last, Saint Corentin, the first bishop of Cornouaille.

My lord told me that the large part of the saints have come from Britain. Perhaps they will have sympathies with me, who has come to Bretagne from France.

12

“ Freddie?”

“Hmm?” I glanced up from my saucepan over my shoulder to see Cranwell’s brown eyes spark at me. He was wearing a ribbed oregano funnel-neck sweater over black moleskin pants. Somehow that particular shade of green added depth to his eyes.

“I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“That somewhere, sometime, someone must have called you Freddie.”

“You’re very clever.” How he gloats! “My father. He started when I was thirteen and only continued because it annoyed me so much.” I knew the rising color in my cheeks probably matched the crimson color of my long-sleeved envelope-necked sweater. If I hadn’t been so intent on finishing the sauce, I would have glared at him. As it was I decided to ignore him. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing or something?”

“Freddie, I’d really like to stay longer.”

“When you came you knew it would only be for a month.”

“I know. And I appreciate you having let me stay for a couple more weeks, but I need more time. I feel like I’ve only just begun to get the rhythm of the story.”

“This isn’t really your kind of book. There aren’t any guns. No terrorists.”

“I know. But this is the novel I’ve always wanted to write. Historical espionage.”

“That’s ridiculous. You only found out about Alix a few months ago.”

“Then I used the wrong words. This is the novel I’ve always meant to write. When I first started, I wrote a novel like this one, but it wasn’t very good. I knew I had to make money if I wanted to keep writing, so I wrote what I thought people would want to read.”

“And you’ve done very well at it.”

“But now I want to write something I want to read. I love history. And the fifteenth century of France was a tumultuous period: The independent duchy of Brittany at odds with the King of France. Given her husband’s position at court, Alix could have had access to confidential information. Even if she weren’t a spy, I can fictionalize her story. At least her journals provide a glimpse of what life must have been like then.”

What could I say?

“I’ll wash dishes for you. I’ll scrub my own toilet.” He didn’t even crack a smile. This man was serious.

“I don’t mind toilets, but I hate vacuuming.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll even do it tonight. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?”

He was out of the kitchen and halfway up the stairs before I called him back.

“You can stay. But I need my space. And I’m not going to change my plans just because you’re around. I have some trips planned.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, spun me, and kissed me on the cheek. Then he set me back down on the floor. “If you need to go somewhere, I’ll stay with friends in Paris.”

When I caught my breath and the scent of his cologne had stopped making my head spin, I agreed. “Deal. The vacuum cleaner is on the first floor in the small closet to the right of the stairs. But dinner’s almost ready. You can worry about it tomorrow.”

I was stuck with him now for the duration, and it was my own fault. One of my virtues is that I always take responsibility for my actions. I’d done it to myself. I desperately needed to learn how to say no.