A Flame Run Wild (44 page)

* * *

"You are wanted in the torture room, milady," the guard said shortly. Liliane knew from his face that Louis had either captured Charles or Alexandre. With her hands stiff at her sides, she left the tower chamber and followed the guard. Her only chance now, Alexandre's only chance, was for her to make Louis believe she had collaborated with Jacques . . . only she was afraid he did not much care. He wanted her and Alexandre dead, and tonight nothing would stop him from having his wish.

The small torture chamber held none of the elaborate contrivances Liliane had seen in Spain, so successful at converting the unwilling to Christianity by bringing them to the point of last rites. This chamber had the basic brazier, whips, pincers and rack, any one of them capable of reducing a human being to a mess of flesh, mangled and inhuman.

Through the glow from the brazier's scarlet coals wavered the silhouette of a prisoner on the far side of the chamber. Liliane's heart lurched painfully as she recognized Alexandre hanging from iron rings imbedded in the stone pillars. A trickle of blood had seeped from his hairline and dried on his face, and he was breathing raggedly, but his eyes were alert, and he seemed unhurt.

At the look in his eyes when he saw her, she almost started forward, but she caught herself. Louis was watching her; any sign of sympathy would immediately seal Alexandre's fate. She nodded casually to Louis, then to Alexandre. "Good evening, gentlemen. Goodness, Louis, you are conscientious. How did you catch him?"

"He walked unsuspectingly into my net," drawled Louis.

"Apparently the possibility of your betrayal never occurred to him."

"Why should it?" She strolled over to Alexandre and peered at him with cold, clinical detachment. "For nearly two years I played the adoring wife." She trailed a finger down Alexandre's chest. "I was rather good, was I not, darling? You believed my every lying word."

She had hoped that Alexandre would take the cue and play her game, but his reaction was more extreme than she had hoped. His blue eyes narrowed. "You gulled me all along ... for this! Just so you could sell me out to Jacques de Signe? I do not believe it!"

"Believe it, darling," she replied sardonically. "Did you suppose that I could live here in a provincial backwater"—her hand contemptuously swept upward—"with the amenities of a privy? Did you think I would let you run through my fortune to build this rockpile to a mean semblance of respectability?"

""I ... we thought to make Castle de Brueil a home! You carry my child ..."

"Most inconveniently," she snapped, as if her patience had run out. She turned to her cousin. "Louis, I am growing tired of slack-witted men. Kill my husband and you destroy our only protection from Philip's revenge. A live hostage is better than a dead provocation. Alexandre will last longer in the larder if he is undamaged."

"So you think I ought to treat your erstwhile lover with kid gloves." Louis slowly shook his head. "Naturally, you expect to be better treated yet." He shook his head again. "My apologies, Cousin. Suppose, while you watch me pry a bit of the truth from your lord, you add details to his account. So much better to answer freely than take your turn with me after he is dead."

"Do not be a fool, Louis!" she said with harsh desperation. "Jacques will not want this!"

"My uncle is regrettably absent," purred Louis. He picked up the pincers. "I think I'll have an eye first: one of those fine blue eyes the court bitches so admire."

The pincers moved toward Alexandre's face and Liliane tensed to launch herself at Louis's arm. The guard would be at her instantly, but if she could force Louis to wheel off balance, she might use him and the pincers as weapons against the guard.

Then, just as she started to uncoil, a voice drawled from the shadows near the door, "Wait a little, Nephew. Your lovely cousin has a point. Why throw away a bargaining tool?"

Louis whirled. "Uncle! When did you arrive?"

"A little while ago," Jacques said vaguely. He moved forward, his vast bulk as awkward as a sea cow on land. He peered up at Alexandre's taut face. "Dear me, so resentful." Then he glanced at Liliane. "Good evening, my dear. Louis giving you trouble?"

She forced an indifferent smile. "My cousin is, as always, overeager."

"Yes ..." he sighed, "but then you must realize that your husband has long been Louis's particular irritation. One cannot blame him for his urge to scratch."

"Uncle, listen," Louis urged. "This bitch has been lying to you all along. Fremier was right about her laying a trap. The first tunnel was filled with waiting yeomen armed to the teeth. The seneschal came to relieve them from the copse."

Jacques looked about for a chair. "Is this true, my dear?"

So Fremier was a spy, Liliane reflected bitterly. Just how long had the cleric been at his dirty business? "Charles, the seneschal, discovered my plans," Liliane lied coolly, then upon inspiration she added, "I sent Fremier with a coded change. Did he not give it to you?"

"You found out Fremier?" snapped Louis. "I would sooner believe a swan kissing crocodiles."

"Or a greedy tallymonger," murmured Jacques. "My, my, to think that Fremier claimed all the credit for our ease of entry into Castle de Brueil." He winked at Louis. "You must be stern with him. Perhaps his punishment may divert you from damaging our prisoner too greatly."

"Uncle," Liliane intervened, "if I might make a request. I should like custody of my husband." She ignored Louis's derisive snort. "I have a bone to pick with Alexandre: a private matter. You may be better aware than my cousin, Uncle, that a woman is best able to torment a man. We need Brueil's living body to bargain with Philip"—she smiled evilly at Alexandre— "but we do not need his living mind. Let him be chained in my chamber for a time; you will never need fear him again."

Louis started to protest vehemently, but Jacques cut him off. "Humor the girl, Nephew. She has done us a great service. By the time Philip discovers what has happened, the tale will be thick with rumor. We have time enough to suit Milord Alexandre's account to our needs. We shall call a council of lords in Arles, where he shall testify that the maintenance of this demesne was beyond even his wife's dowry, which he had overestimated upon their marriage." He stroked his jaw as he gazed at Alexandre's defiant face. "At that time, milord will affirm the peaceful transfer of his fief to us and propose an annulment. If he is clever and holds his tongue thereafter, he will stay alive long enough for Philip to possibly grant him a more hospitable fief in the north." He peaked his hands over his porcine belly and sighed; Alexandre's hot blue eyes said that the moment of his acquiescence would be long in coming.

"Run along, Liliane. Take your hothead and do what you like with him. If you cannot persuade him to be sensible, Louis most assuredly can." He signaled the guard to bring leg irons. "You are likely to have your turn, Nephew; be patient."

"Thank you, Uncle," Liliane said quickly as Alexandre was reshackled. "You will not regret your confidence in me."

"Ah, the eagerness of women to turn men into blithering idiots," Jacques murmured as she left, leading the guard with Alexandre. At his signal, two pikemen fell in behind them at the door.

As soon as the door closed, Louis gave vent to his anger. "What the hell are you doing? She is obviously as two-faced as Janus! She tried to ambush us, and now she's out to save Brueil's skin, just as she did in Palestine.''

"Dear me, really?" Jacques drawled. "I do not recall seeing Liliane in Palestine and she is a difficult woman to hide."

"I had several conversations with fat Xenobia, the owner of the Gilded Leopard. Brueil once had occasion to visit the place in the company of a stunning blonde, whom no one saw before or after that night. I think Flanchard found out that something odd was going on, and Brueil killed him for it. That something probably had to do with either the blonde or that Arab friend of his who kept getting in our way. Why would Alexandre, of all men, choose an Arab for a friend?"

"Alexandre has never been predictable; that is why he has remained alive."

"Well, the Arab had a generous hand in keeping him alive in Acre. You admitted that Liliane forced you into moving on Castle de Brueil by telling you Philip knew of my betraying the raiders to Saladin. How did she know? Alexandre might have guessed, but he couldn't be sure without learning it from the Saracens. Who would be better able to go among them than one of their own—that damned Jefar el din? Jefar el din, who slept in the tent next to Brueil's and seemed to guess our every move. Do you know what I'm beginning to think?"

"That Jefar and Liliane are one and the same," Jacques replied dryly. "A bit far-fetched, don't you mink?"

"Perhaps, but you have to agree it's possible. How can you trust her with him?"

"I trust her with him because he will keep her occupied. I want to keep her happy, Louis. I have a use for Liliane; when she has filled that use, you may have her. You may also kill Alexandre."

Louis's face cleared. "You never believed her; you just want
to dangle her in front of Philip as a sop and distraction." His
lips curved in a rare, genuine smile. "I grant you, Uncle, I
underestimated you."

Jacques eyed him smugly. "You always do."

* * *

"That wall." Liliane indicated the wall opposite the bed in the bedchamber, and the guard obligingly planed Alexandre up. After the guard had been dismissed, Alexandre tested the strength of the hook above his head where his shackles had been fastened; the hook was secure.

"Release me, Liliane," he demanded curtly. When she did not move, his voice grew even harder. "It seems that Fremier had a hand in this, too. I would like to strangle him now, but I will not strangle you . . . just yet."

"That leaves numerous other ways of dispatching me," she observed quietly. "Just now, you appear to be contemplating them in turn."

"You are carrying my child; until he is born, you are safe . . . from me, at least. Jacques and Louis are going to dine on you."

Liliane watched him. His eyes were emotionless, his body very still, as if he had encased himself in armor to separate himself from her. She chose her next words just as carefully. "Do you believe that I betrayed you?"

"Do you deny that you planned the seizure of Castle de Brueil with Jacques at the tourney?"

"If you put it like that, no." The hideous suspicion that Alexandre had not pretended to think her a traitor simply for Jacques's and Louis's benefit was quickly growing in Liliane's mind. He had every right to be furious that her failed venture had lost him everything, but how could he believe that she meant it to happen? Had he so quickly forgotten her loyalty in Palestine? Pride and resentment swept her. "You do think I am a traitor!"

"I think I am hanging in chains in my own bedchamber while my worst enemies have the run of my people and my inheritance. My wife admits turning everything over to them on a platter." Alexandre's voice was growing angrier with every word. "You conspired with my best friend, with those toads—you confided in everyone but me! I would have died for you, Liliane, but I did not have quite this manner in mind!"

Liliane was immensely relieved. He was furious about her intrigues, but he did not seem to think that she had been after his head. The question was, would he ever forgive her for ruining him?

As she moved penitently toward him, Louis opened the door and thrust in his head. "Enjoy her well, milord; I have!" With a mocking smile at Liliane's horrified face, he withdrew.

For a Stunned moment, Liliane stared at the door, then she caught sight of Alexandre's face . . . and realized that if he were free, he would have strangled her. "He is lying!" she cried. "You must know he is lying!"

"Just as Derek Flanchard was lying? I wonder if you even know truth from lies any longer! Our marriage has been filled with deception from the beginning! I can believe nothing you say! Louis, at least, is consistent!"

"Louis is full of malice! He would like to see both of us miserable."

"Well, he is certainly getting half his wish. You used Charles; why should you not try to use Louis?"

"I did not use Charles and certainly not in the way you imply! He wanted only to help you—"

"No," Alexandre said harshly, "that is not all he wanted, and you know it. You are still lying, Liliane." He shook his head in disgust. "Why do you care what I think? I am carrying enough iron to weigh an elephant. I cannot interfere with you now. You have damned us all, and be damned to you."

Her eyes stinging with tears of indignation, Liliane started to lash back at him, then she abruptly held her tongue. To try to vindicate herself when he was so furious was pointless. She could not reproach him for his anger, but his lack of faith in her hurt her greatly. She had never thought that he could turn against her after Acre;
par Dieu
, she was wrong!

She must give both of them time to calm down, to remember that love, not lies, had been the foundation of their marriage. The loss of Castle de Brueil, their responsibility for so many innocent people whose lives would be ruined, weighed upon them too heavily now to incite bitterness and frustration. "I will not quarrel with you, Alexandre," she said unevenly. "I only ask you to listen to your heart; that, at least, has never lied to you. If we are to get out of this, we must work together."

"That request," he retorted, "is a bit belated. The men who lie dead because they believed in you would offer you now a round of hollow laughter. As for me, the greatest fool of them all, say that I have learned prudence at last. Go to hell, milady, or wherever you like, but get out of my sight!"

Liliane's nails dug hard into her palms. "I shall go, sir; but anon, I shall return. Perhaps you will come to reason in the interim!"

Alexandre heard the door slam behind her, and a profound silence fell about the room. He could scarcely mink for anger. This was his home, where his mother and sister had lived their short lives in simple decency. Liliane was as different from his mother as the flaring, brilliant sun was the moon. She had never seemed suited to this quiet place, and, now she had ruined its peace forever. The events of the past few days, Signe faces with Liliane's among them, the bodies he knew had fallen in the castle's seizure—all whirled in his mind. Liliane scheming with Jacques while she wore an innocent flower crown of Love and Beauty, smiling up at Charles, rolling in bed with Louis. . . .

But Liliane had not betrayed him; she had not, had not . . . his mind was screaming with torment. Why would she defend him in Palestine, only to destroy him now? So you would trust her, the demons of despair hissed. So that you would finally trust her enough to let her take your fief from under your nose. Besotted fool!

Alexandre could feel his doubts subsiding even as he decried Liliane. If she had lost Castle de Brueil, she lost it for love, for me. She could be Hecuba herself and I would love her. He threw his head back. Liliane, return! Tell me any lie save that you love
me!

He waited for her until dusk, but Jacques was the first to come. Alone, the fat baron ambled laboriously into the room, closing the door and peering up at Alexandre benevolently. "Do not be concerned, my dear Alexandre, I have not come to gloat. If your confinement were left utterly to me, I would have those uncomfortable shackles unlocked, but Louis has a plebian nature. He refuses to give you run of the castle, and until you prove your trustworthiness, I must agree to his demand. Would you care for brandy wine?"

"And miss the excitement of being drowned off a boat?" Alexandre retorted dryly.

Jacques swirled the contents of the wine pitcher. "Oh, I would not poison you at this early date. I do not wish to kill you at all. King Philip is much too fond of you. Louis, unfortunately, misses that point, but your wife is much more astute. As you may have heard, she has been a great help to me."

"So I gather," Alexandre replied tautly.

"But I wonder if you gather just how much?" Jacques mused as he poured wine for himself. He sniffed the wine, then drew a tame mouse from his sleeve and offered it a sip from the goblet. He smiled at Alexandre's sardonic expression. "You know Louis's impulsiveness." He watched the mouse run up and down his sleeve, then take another sip, its whiskers dripping. In a few moments, it settled unsteadily in the crook of Jacques's arm. He stroked it. "Asleep, the drunken mite. Not all mice have a taste for liquor, but this little fellow is quite a tippler." He sat upon the bed and casually quaffed the wine. "Your wife has been just as reliable in her way. We have been in regular communication since your marriage, and actually sometime before that, while she was married to Diego del Pinal. Thanks to Liliane's cooperation, his death was quite profitable to us."

Alexandre's head jerked up in disbelief. "She helped you kill Diego?"

"Old men should never marry young women; there, I have been sensible. Youth grows restless and, in Liliane's case, ambitious. You have noticed her love of freedom, her willfulness and strength? Not an obedient girl, that one. Mercifully, Diego never knew what happened that day she went riding with him. Mind you, I am not saying she killed him; no shred of proof indicated that it was anything but an accident. But"—he smiled— ''it was convenient.''

"For all of you," Alexandre rejoined curtly.

"Oh, yes," Jacques said softly. "As your death will be if you do not cooperate with us. I want more than your signature on a piece of parchment to confirm my succession to this fief; any butcher could force that out of you. I want your public and verbal agreement to my succession at Aries, and I would prefer that you look hale and hearty for the ceremony."

Alexandre's eyes narrowed. "And you are leaving my persuasion to Liliane."

"Put gently, her life and your son's depend upon your persuasion. I need you; however, I do not need her . . . grateful though I am." He sipped his wine. "Trade Liliane for your life, my boy. She is a veritable scorpion. Whatever she breeds will live to turn on you. If you really want the child, I shall see that you get it, but I doubt if you will thank me in the end." He drained the goblet and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "For now, play her game if you do not wish to end like Diego. But thwart my niece and she just might love you to death." He rose, adjusting his sleeve so the mouse would not fall out, and waddled to the door.

Louis waited for Jacques at the foot of the tower stairs. "What was that all about? Did Brueil agree?"

"No, of course he did not agree," Jacques replied calmly, "but would it not be interesting if he killed his wife for consorting with the king?"

Louis frowned in puzzlement as he 'absently swung a terrified Kiki by the neck chain fastened to his belt. "So you've been putting nasty ideas in his head. I thought you were saving Liliane for Philip."

"I am, but if she proves unreliable and ready to carry tales to his majesty, we might do well to turn her into a more flexible chess piece. Philip would not likely come to the aid of a liegeman who had publicly branded him an adulterer."

Louis let the choking monkey drop to the floor and speculatively watched her try to catch her breath. "Might not Brueil murder Liliane prematurely? He has an unpredictable temper."

"Either way we are safe." Jacques patted Louis's shoulder. "Goad Alexandre from time to time in your inimitable way, Nephew, he will soon jump at anyone's throat."