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left Alisoun in her solitary sickroom. The king had sent ahead, and Reynard, under
heavy guard, awaited them. When they reached the door, the king tried to keep Garwaf
out of the cell.
The wolf glanced up at him with defiance gleaming in his dark blue eyes, as if to
say, I have more of a right to confront these two than anyone.
Sighing in resignation, the king opened the door to let Garwaf precede him into
the sickroom now makeshift interrogation chamber.
Reynard flinched and retreated upon beholding the wolf. Alisoun stirred
restively beneath her covers, but she did not speak. She certainly knew the king and
Llewellyn had returned, but had she also recognized the light padding footfall of the
wolf?
Reynard thought not. He stood, silent and fuming, by his wife's sick bed, unable
to keep the contempt and disgust from showing on his face when he looked at the ruin
his lady had become. "The betrayal was all her idea," Reynard growled when they
began to question him. "Long had I admired Lady Alisoun. Often did I offer her my . . .
services. Always before she refused my attentions and sent me on my way. I was never
more shocked in my life than when I received a letter from her bidding me to aid her
should I be willing. She named a time and place. Faithfully did I keep the tryst with her.
There she told me of the werewolf and how to trap him so she should be free of him."
The king cast a black look at the duchess. "If you desired your freedom, you
could have come to me." He glared at her, though Reynard knew her sightless eyes
could not see the expression.
"Gladly would I have parted you from my nephew." The king's voice held a note
of disgust.
Reynard gave a coarse laugh. "And give over being the Duchess de Dorré? My
king, we all know Alisoun better than that. And you were so mad when Gabriel
disappeared, getting you to sign over all his lands to me was an easy task. I'm not sure
you even realized how malleable you were. But Alisoun did."
The lady in question said nothing all the while. She remained immobile and
blank-faced throughout, betraying her interest in the discussion only by the restless
stirring of her good hand on the sheets.
Reynard continued his account of his part in events. His sudden burst of
loquaciousness had actually come about after a few not-so-subtle hints from Llewellyn,
regarding sharp objects and certain soft parts of Reynard's anatomy. After his colloquy
with the king's magician, Reynard had wisely decided a full confession would be best.
After all, persecuting a werewolf, even if in the daylight hours he was the king's
nephew, would hardly be regarded as a crime by the general populace. Reynard had no
desire to be tortured into divulging his part in the werewolf's betrayal when, on closer
inspection, it seemed his willing confession could hurt him not a bit.
The king and his two pets here in the room could actually do very little to
Reynard. He had fallen out of favor, he might lose his lands, and banishment was an
option. There were, however, other lands, after all, and other kings more susceptible to
manipulation and flattery.
"So," Reynard continued. "She told me where the werewolf went and by what
road. I stole the clothes from the rock and, having faithfully discharged my errand,
returned to her to receive my reward." He wiggled his eyebrows in a smug manner at
the wolf. The beast curled back his lip to show sharp teeth but did not growl. Reynard
ceased his gloat and continued his tale. "I gave the clothes to her grace and forgot them.
I have not seen them since." Reynard shrugged.
"You have no idea what she did with them?" Llewellyn said.
Reynard relished every word as he said, "None whatsoever."
"Send him back to his cell." The king dismissed Reynard with a casual flick of his
wrist.
The guards began to jostle him out of the room, but before Reynard left, he
leaned down to glare into the wolf's face. "I got everything I wanted. Your lands, your
title, your wife, and I left you worse than dead. Dishonored. Broken. An animal living in
the woods. What a delicious day that was when your wife propositioned me." Reynard
snorted, his face puckered in disgust. "But you've had your revenge full measure now,
haven't you? I and not you have ended up cursed. Cursed with a leper to wife. Oh yes,
what a grand deal clever Reynard made that day. You've already had your revenge, my
lord, on the pair of us, and now you know it."
The wolf curled back his lip.
Reynard leaned in and said, so only the wolf could hear. "Even if I did have your
clothes, I would not help you back to them." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]