Page 50 of Wolf's Return
“Why, he is the commander of Comte Lothair’s army, his closest adviser. I could not imagine he would—”
“And yet he vanished for a time only to return and re-avow his allegiance to the comte,” said the eveque. “Him, and all his men forced to kneel before their comte again, as though they were little more than squires.”
That must have chaffed. The twins had not looked happy. None of d’Louncrais’ men had.
“Well, yes,” agreed the aumônier, “but does that not signify their loyalty to the comte?”
“Mmm, perhaps,” said Faucher. “What do you know of d’Louncrais and his men, Touissant? Do they join you for service at all? Have you had any dealings with them? Do you not notice how different they are from other men? Other chevaliers?”
“I…What do you mean, different?”
The eveque had a point. Remi had witnessed d’Louncrais and his vassals kneeling before the comte. Six of them big men, warriors. Yet the seventh man had stood out. Not because he was not a chevalier, or of noble birth, but because he was smaller, less…other.What did that mean? Could it be… Remi scowled at his scuffed boots.Am I really thinking werewolves could exist?
“Well,” said Aumônier Touissant, “they are all accomplished chevaliers and high-ranking nobles. Wealthy men, many of them from well-known and respected families. I confess I have not had cause to associate with them. Most have their own chapels and their own aumôniers on their estates.” There was a baited pause before the aumônier continued. “The Montagne twins have been in the chapel for service a few times of late, which is unusual. Sometimes Edmond, sometimes Aubert.”
“You can tell them apart?”
Remi scrunched up his nose. How could you not? Were fancy eveques blind? Edmond was the twin who had pressed him into spying for them. He kept his beard neater, and there was almost always a hint of a smile hovering on his lips. Aubert, who always looked as though someone had stolen his favorite horse, had a small scar cutting his left eyebrow in half and was a hair-breadth taller. Remi had the ceremony in the hall to thank for now having names to put to their faces, but he had always been able to tell them apart.
“Seigneur Edmond has a wicked sense of humor and often helps those less fortunate,” said Aumônier Touissant. “He rescues the strays—animals and children—and has been very generous to this chapel. Seigneur Aubert rarely speaks, but he feels things most deeply. You need only look into his eyes to see the extent of his emotions.”
Remi scowled. Did Edmond think of him as a stray to be rescued? He had survived on the streets long before the big chevalier had come along. He would survive once he was gone. With more coin in his pocket if he stayed. Remi would be stupid not to take advantage of Edmond’scharity. Did the aumônier know Edmond used the strays to do his spying? Doubtful.
“Tell me, Aumônier Touissant, what do you know of d’Louncrais’ vassal Lance Vautour?”
Lance? The older one with the graying beard? The one with the strange crest—a rooster’s head and the body of a winged serpent. Could he be the one Archeveque Renaud had spoken of?
“Seigneur Lance? He is much like the other vassals. Older, of course. He served as a vassal to Seigneur Gaharet’s father, too, I believe. As did Seigneur Godfrey. Strange that Seigneur Godfrey was absent from the investiture ceremony.”
L’enfer.Two names.Which is the important one?The one I need?
“Odd, yes, but it is not Godfrey Lagarde I am interested in. I have reason to believe Lance Vautour worked closely with Archeveque Renaud before he disappeared.”
Remi pumped his fist in the air.Yes!
“What was that noise?”
A chair scraped against the floor, and footsteps crossed the room.
Merde.Remi pushed off the wall to race down the corridor, but a strong hand, the eveque’s hand, grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him into the room.
Two faces stared at him—one surprised, the other angry.
Remi turned to the aumônier, his eyes wide, all fake innocence. “Aumônier Touissant, I was looking for you.”
The eveque gripped him tighter and gave him a violent shake. “Spying, were you, boy? I take great offense to little beggar boys involving themselves in things that are not their business.”
Remi ducked his head in feigned deference. “Forgive me, your graciousness. I was but looking for the aumônier.” He did not get caught often, but when he did, most times he could talk himself out of trouble. “He is often in the chapel. When I did not find him, I looked for him further. It is a matter of importance.”
“Lies.” The pretty face of the eveque twisted into a gruesome scowl.
Now here was a true monster, hiding behind his soft hands and black robes. One worth the fear that sliced through him and turned his stomach to water.
“You were either spying or stealing.”
The eveque patted down Remi’s clothing. Did the eveque think he was stupid? Anything in the church worth stealing—the gold cross, the chalices—he would never be able to sell. Too identifiable.
“No, your graciousness,” Remi gushed, pushing as much submission and awe into his voice as he could. The rise in pitch, the tremble, he did not have to fake. “I vow to you I was not.”
