Chapter XI

“I am Marina di Seressa, and these are my friends. Hello, Jeanette. I have heard another name for you.”

“The Maiden,” the other woman said. She made a face. “I don’t like it.”

“Why? If I may ask?” Thierry, looking at her, felt uneasy. Her eyes were bluer than any he’d ever seen.

The girl-woman shrugged. “I am a soldier. Whether I am a maiden or not has nothing to do with that. But my army likes the name.”

“Your army?” Marina asked.

Jeanette gestured to a meadow past the work being done on a new wing for the château. They looked, and saw the smoke of many fires. “They walked night and day from the sea to come here,” she said. “Men and women, both, will fight for Ferrieres with me.” She paused. “I have things to tell the court.”

Tell the court, Thierry thought.

The girl turned to look north, where the long tree-lined path to the royal hunting lodge came down from the main road. There was nothing to see or hear.

“Ah. They are nearly here,” said Jeanette de Broché, matter-of-factly. “And…the king is with them. As I asked.”

“Dear Jad,” said Marina, with a gasp.

The girl looked at her, unsmiling. A round, serious face, smooth skin, lightly freckled, hair cut very short, those blue eyes. She made the sign of the sun disk. “Always,” she said.

Silvy had said nothing at all. She was just staring at this girl.

Thierry looked again at the smoke from the campfires, then turned to gaze along the empty, silent path leading here. Not quite silent: there was birdsong. He felt entirely unsettled, and they’d barely exchanged a handful of words.

Then Jeanette lifted her head, as if hearing something none of them could hear, and she walked a few steps north, so that she’d be the first person anyone would see, coming into the courtyard. Thierry became aware she had a sword on her hip. A soldier, she’d called herself.

It was, as best he remembered later, only a matter of moments before he heard the sound of horses and shouted commands. A large number of guards in royal livery came riding down the path. They fanned out to both sides of the courtyard. Then there came eight carriages, and a great many more soldiers and guards. This was royalty, after all. It became noisy, crowded, dusty, chaotic. Marina’s guards made way, moving back towards the château.

He and Marina and Silvy also backed up to stand near the steps leading to the hunting lodge, beside the assembled servants and a tall man in blue and gold who was clearly the steward here. And who also looked afraid, Thierry decided.