Read Online Count Scar - SA by C. Dale Brittain, Robert A. Bouchard - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. Dale Brittain, Robert A. Bouchard
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justice" I said, reaching for my cloak, "until I hear it myself." Bruno resignedly stood up, and I motioned to two knights to accompany us as I strode through the courtyard on the way to the stable. Further perusal of parchments—or search for secret passages—would have to wait.
2
2
I had never seen anything like Duke Argaves court.
It was located in the wealthy market town of Ferignan, in a broad river valley where several streams came together, including one that flowed from the base of Peyrefixade and one that, according to Brother Melchior, flowed from the peak where his Order's principal religious house was located. The hills surrounding the town were planted with the olive trees Bruno and I had missed in Peyrefixade, although this time of year their branches were sere and gray.
The duke's castle was located on a slight rise above the guild halls and merchants' houses that provided supplies for my castle and probably half the other villages and castles in the duchy. I thought it showed Argave's ancestors' supreme confidence in their own power that they had not sought out an inaccessible peak like Peyrefixade. Even in the cold wind of a late winter afternoon a few beggars clustered at the duke's gates, and I threw them a handful of coppers. The castles outer walls were pierced with arrow slits and had grim towers commanding every corner, but within was a softness and luxury I had never seen, even at the imperial court.
The duke's guards met us at the gates while I stood staring in at the fountains and arbors of the courtyard. "All swords and knives to be surrendered," they told us briskly. "The duke keeps the peace within his walls."
The half dozen knights I had brought along did not seem surprised and indeed started unbuckling their sword belts immediately, but Bruno and I looked at each other in amazement. I had never been unarmed in a public place since I was a boy. Well, the emperor did practice something similar on his high feast days, but as a member of his trusted guard I had always been one of those few who retained his weapons.
"Knives, too," a guard insisted as I reluctantly handed over my sword. The guards were giving out velvet gloves in return, in a variety of different colors and embroidery patterns that I presumed would help them identify our particular swords later. But I would feel very foolish in the meantime trying to defend my life or honor with a velvet glove.
"Without my knife, how am I supposed to cut my meat?" I demanded.
"Dinner knives will be provided."
Brother Melchior handed over his knife; he of course did not wear a sword. I was interested to note that he thrust the crimson velvet glove he received in return deep in a pocket of his cassock, as though embarrassed to be seen holding anything so gaudy.
The duke himself came across the courtyard to meet me as soon as we were through the gates. Not all the fountains were running this time of year, but there was a constant background sound of tinkling showers and a hint of sandalwood essence in the air, masking the cold, dry scents of February. Faint but lively music played somewhere in the distance. The paths between the shrubbery of the courtyard were not gravel but slabs of marble.
The duke was resplendent in silk and velvet, the pointed toes on his shoes twice as long as the ones the seneschal had hastily bought for me here in town the other day. Around his neck he wore a wide, tightly pleated ruff; no one had told me anything about the fashion in ruffs. "My dear Caloran!" he cried, clasping my arm. "How delighted it makes me that today you shall become my man!"
Since the price of Peyrefixade seemed to be swearing myself to a duke I didn't quite trust, I pulled back my lips in an accommodating smile. I noted that Argave himself was wearing a sword.
"I shall introduce you to some of the others before the ceremony," he said, leading me into his hall. Bruno, Melchior, and the knights came behind. Here, too, marble had been used
2
2
I had never seen anything like Duke Argaves court.
It was located in the wealthy market town of Ferignan, in a broad river valley where several streams came together, including one that flowed from the base of Peyrefixade and one that, according to Brother Melchior, flowed from the peak where his Order's principal religious house was located. The hills surrounding the town were planted with the olive trees Bruno and I had missed in Peyrefixade, although this time of year their branches were sere and gray.
The duke's castle was located on a slight rise above the guild halls and merchants' houses that provided supplies for my castle and probably half the other villages and castles in the duchy. I thought it showed Argave's ancestors' supreme confidence in their own power that they had not sought out an inaccessible peak like Peyrefixade. Even in the cold wind of a late winter afternoon a few beggars clustered at the duke's gates, and I threw them a handful of coppers. The castles outer walls were pierced with arrow slits and had grim towers commanding every corner, but within was a softness and luxury I had never seen, even at the imperial court.
The duke's guards met us at the gates while I stood staring in at the fountains and arbors of the courtyard. "All swords and knives to be surrendered," they told us briskly. "The duke keeps the peace within his walls."
The half dozen knights I had brought along did not seem surprised and indeed started unbuckling their sword belts immediately, but Bruno and I looked at each other in amazement. I had never been unarmed in a public place since I was a boy. Well, the emperor did practice something similar on his high feast days, but as a member of his trusted guard I had always been one of those few who retained his weapons.
"Knives, too," a guard insisted as I reluctantly handed over my sword. The guards were giving out velvet gloves in return, in a variety of different colors and embroidery patterns that I presumed would help them identify our particular swords later. But I would feel very foolish in the meantime trying to defend my life or honor with a velvet glove.
"Without my knife, how am I supposed to cut my meat?" I demanded.
"Dinner knives will be provided."
Brother Melchior handed over his knife; he of course did not wear a sword. I was interested to note that he thrust the crimson velvet glove he received in return deep in a pocket of his cassock, as though embarrassed to be seen holding anything so gaudy.
The duke himself came across the courtyard to meet me as soon as we were through the gates. Not all the fountains were running this time of year, but there was a constant background sound of tinkling showers and a hint of sandalwood essence in the air, masking the cold, dry scents of February. Faint but lively music played somewhere in the distance. The paths between the shrubbery of the courtyard were not gravel but slabs of marble.
The duke was resplendent in silk and velvet, the pointed toes on his shoes twice as long as the ones the seneschal had hastily bought for me here in town the other day. Around his neck he wore a wide, tightly pleated ruff; no one had told me anything about the fashion in ruffs. "My dear Caloran!" he cried, clasping my arm. "How delighted it makes me that today you shall become my man!"
Since the price of Peyrefixade seemed to be swearing myself to a duke I didn't quite trust, I pulled back my lips in an accommodating smile. I noted that Argave himself was wearing a sword.
"I shall introduce you to some of the others before the ceremony," he said, leading me into his hall. Bruno, Melchior, and the knights came behind. Here, too, marble had been used
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