“What do you mean, which level he is on?”
Marianna hesitated before answering, but at Isabel’s insistent look she continued. “Prisoners detained for questioning are usually on the top level, I’m told. The lower down you are, the more serious your offense. Those sent to the bottom of the dungeon are usually never heard from again.” Realizing how bad that sounded, Marianna’s voice trailed off at the end.
In spite of her concern for Chetwynd, Isabel could not help but marvel at all Marianna had learned in a short time in Aachen. It was going to take her a while to catch up.
“If Lothar wants to question Chetwynd, he should be on the first level. But if he just wanted to question him, why put him in the dungeon? It’s not like he’s going anywhere. It doesn’t make sense, Marianna. I should have made Justin tell me exactly what happened. What time does Herlinda bring food to the prisoners?”
“Not until everyone else has eaten. Late in the evening, she takes the scraps. But she might know who the latest prisoners are before that time. As I said, she fancies one of the guards.”
“Good, that sounds promising. You had better go, Marianna. We’re wasting time. I’ll go to evening worship and then join the lords and ladies in the great hall for dinner. Perhaps I’ll find Jerome and Ingram at the church. I wonder if they know about Chetwynd. I forgot to ask Justin if he informed them of what happened. I should have thought to ask for more information. If you learn anything, seek me out at supper in the great hall.”
Isabel had spoken quickly, and now she was urging Marianna toward the door.
“Are you sure it’s wise for you to go out on your own, my lady? You don’t know the city. I could find Ingram and send him to you.”
Isabel couldn’t imagine sitting around waiting for Ingram to appear. “If you find him, send him to the church. But in the meantime, I’m not staying here. I have to do something, Marianna. I saw the church on the way in, and I can follow the worshippers from the church to the great hall, if necessary. Don’t worry about me. Please go now.”
Marianna nodded encouragingly. “You’ll do fine. I’ll get some news for you, my lady.”
WHILE ISABEL WAS FINDING HER WAY TO THE church Chetwynd had told her about, he sat in his cell and worried about her. He kept telling himself Justin would look after her, but he could not help but be concerned, not only for her safety but also about her reaction to the news that he was in the dungeon. He had no doubt that she would extract the information from Justin. When Isabel had clung to him at their parting, he knew she had sensed they were entering another period of uncertainty.
Isabel had been right to feel uneasy. In the king’s chambers where Chetwynd and Justin had expected to find Louis, they had found Lothar in a raging temper. Justin knew immediately that it was a dangerous situation. He signaled Chetwynd to leave, but before Chetwynd had a chance to disappear, the pacing Lothar had turned and caught sight of him at the entrance. Lothar’s thick, dark hair was disheveled from running his hands through it, and his face was red from drink and fury.
“My stepmother’s partner in sin!” he shouted at the sight of Chetwynd. “What are you doing here?”
“Lord Chetwynd is with me, Your Majesty,” Justin replied quickly. He tried to calm Lothar and at the same time keep Chetwynd from reacting to Lothar’s insulting remark. “He has just returned from the Spanish March. Lord Chetwynd has been away from court for some time.”
Justin hoped to remind Lothar of Chetwynd’s distance from the recent turmoil at the palace. He stood between the two men, but Lothar strode around him and moved close enough to stare into Chetwynd’s face.
Chetwynd could smell the wine on Lothar’s breath as he shouted, “Yes, yes. I know all about Lord Chetwynd. The brave knight hurrying back to help the queen. And we all know the type of help he gives.”
Lothar’s tone of voice and the mocking expression on his face emphasized the sarcasm of his words. There were several lords and guards present, and someone chuckled at the remark.
Squaring his shoulders, Chetwynd replied with as much dignity as he could manage in the face of the vicious attack. “I have returned to Aachen to report to King Louis about the fortifications on the Spanish March.”
“So you say. Are you sure it’s not to warm the queen’s bed? Maybe you haven’t heard, Chetwynd. Judith is not here. How sad for you.”
Chetwynd ignored the fake sympathy on Lothar’s face. “As I said, I’ve come to report to King Louis.”
Chetwynd’s steely control only seemed to make Lothar angrier. “Well, you have found a different king to answer to. You seem to forget that I am also a king and share rule of the empire with my father. The king standing before you is not a feeble old man to be easily duped!” Lothar roared.
“You are not half the man your father is,” Chetwynd replied softly, more to himself than Lothar.
Chetwynd knew as soon as the words were out that he had made a mistake. But when Lothar demanded he repeat what he said, he did.
Lothar let out a string of curses, then shouted, “Guards, throw him into the dungeon. I’ll speak with you later, Chetwynd, after a few days in the dungeon has softened your defiance. Then you can give me your report on the Spanish fortifications.”
Before the guards could act, Justin tried to reason with Lothar. “Don’t do this, my lord. Chetwynd was just defending King Louis to whom he has vowed an oath of loyalty. I need him with me to discuss some important matters with you.”
There was a pause and Justin looked at Chetwynd, prompting him with his eyes to apologize to Lothar. But Lothar
