Kathryn Le Veque (18 page)

    
“Sweet Jesus,” she murmured, holding out
her hands and turning them over and over, noting the dirty nails and pale skin.
“I can
see
.”

    
Ovier was trying to gain a look at her
eyes, reaching out to pull up an eyelid even as she was moving around, looking
at everything around her.

    
“How
well
can you see?” he asked, peering into her right eye. “Are things clearer? Do
they still have the odd halo around them?”

    
Alisanne was overcome; it was enough, for
the moment, for her to forget about the coming horror.
 
As she could see the detail in her surroundings
for the first time in ages, she began to laugh hysterically.

    
“There is no halo,” she said joyfully. “I
can see the blisters on my hands and the cat underneath your table. I can see
you, too, and you look to be as old as Methuselah!”

    
She was laughing as she said it, which made
Ovier grin. “I
am
as old as
Methuselah,” he told her.
 
“Now, be
still, silly wench. Blink your eyes and tell me if you feel any pain or
scratching.”

    
Gasping with joy, she blinked several times
and shook her head emphatically. “No pain!” she cried. Then, she jumped up and
threw her arms around his neck, strangling him happily. “I can see without
pain! You have performed a miracle!”

    
Embarrassed with her show of affection but
pleased just the same, Ovier patted her hand as she kissed his dirty forehead.
“No miracle, I assure you,” he said, watching her wander off, visually
inspecting everything in the room as if only now seeing for the first time in
her life. “Your eyes had poison in them, poison that had been left to fester.
 
It was simple enough to clear up.”

    
Alisanne was in the process of picking up
and studying nearly everything she could get her hands on. “But I have seen a
physic,” she insisted. “He said I was going blind from disease.”

    
“He was an idiot,” Ovier sniffed. “As I
said, your sight may never be perfect, but at least we can clear out the poison
that you have suffered from.”

    
“What did you put into my eyes?”

    
“Goat’s milk.
 
There is something in it that rids the body
of certain poisons. I have seen it many times.”

    
She stopped inspecting his table and looked
at him with an expression suggesting disbelief. “Do you mean to tell me that if
the physic who originally examined me had put milk in my eyes, then I would
have been quickly cured?”

    
“More than likely.”

    
Alisanne struggled not to become angry to
that. There was no use, anyway.
 
All that
mattered was that Ovier had been able to clear up what she had been told would
blind her and her joy knew no limits. She felt as if she had been reborn.
 
As she bent over to pet the cat, Ovier went to
retrieve a pitcher of water and a bowl.
 
He poured clean water into the bowl and took it to Alisanne, who was
instructed to wash her face with it, especially her eyes.
 
As she splashed water, the old man collected
a polished bronze disc, blew off the dust, and held it up to her.

    
“Now,” he said softly, “look at your eyes.”

    
Water dripping off her face, Alisanne found
a beautiful young woman with bright green eyes gazing back at her.
 
It was the first time in her life that she
had ever seen herself clearly and the moment was not lost on her.
 
Tear pooled in her eyes as she took the disc
from Ovier, staring at her reflection and seeing it with clarity and beauty
such as she had never known.
 

    
“I have never seen myself quite so
clearly,” she murmured hoarsely.
“’Tis rather shocking.”

    
Ovier laughed softly. “Such beauty often
is,” he said. “Now you know why men are willing to live and die for you.”

    
The smile faded from her face and she
looked up at him. “Where is Albert?” she begged softly, wiping the moisture
from her eyes. “Surely they are preparing to take Roane to the scaffold.
 
What is Albert doing about it?”

    
Ovier patted her shoulder and turned away,
shuffling over to a corner of his hut where a pile of possessions lay.
 
He began rummaging through them.

    
“Do not fret,” he told her. “He will be
here.”

    
“He should not be here,” Alisanne said. “He
should be ready to help Roane.”

    
Ovier pulled something out of the pile and
turned for Alisanne, extending the item to her. “He is,” he assured her. “Here;
this is a comb I made for my wife. It has not been used in thirty years. I do
not believe she would mind if you used it.”

    
With the mirror still in one hand, Alisanne
timidly reached out to take the comb. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Where is
your wife?”

    
“Dead.”

    
“Oh,” Alisanne looked back at the crude
comb. “I am sorry for you, but I appreciate your generosity. My possessions are
in the fortress, including my comb.”

    
“I know. Make yourself presentable, for
Albert will soon be here.”

    
“Are you certain?”

    
“I am.”

    
He sounded so confident so Alisanne
hastened to do as she was told.
 
She ran
the bone comb through her dark hair, all the while watching herself in the
mirror.
  
She was still coming to grips
with the improvement of her vision, seeing things in the reflection of the
mirror that she’d never seen before.
 
Mirrors were precious and rare, and the one she’d had as a child, which
had been her mother’s, had been damaged long ago.
 
Looking at it now made everything distorted.

    
Ovier had told her not to worry and that
Albert had a plan to free Roane, but she couldn’t help but worry.
  
As she combed her hair, she thought on Roane
and the hell he must have endured for the past several weeks.
 
He had been injured enough when the
Hospitallers had taken him from Kinlet, but weeks in a vault could do a lot
worse to a man’s health. Not knowing how he was tore at her and threatened to
drive her mad.
 
But soon enough she would
know his health and soon enough, she would see him.
 

She had to trust Albert; she had no choice. She’d long stopped
hoping for her uncle and Roane’s brother to show up, like avenging angels,
saving them all from the corruption of the Hospitallers.
 
It had been weeks since Joseph Ari had gone
in search of Baron Coniston. Mayhap he never found him; mayhap something had
happened to him along the way.
 
Whatever
his fate, he was not here now and that was the only thing that mattered to her.
 
Baron Coniston and his powerful army were not
here to save Roane.
 
It was up to her and
Albert.

As she reflected on her fears, she noticed a strip of leather on
the table top that was attached to the end of a dull knife, perhaps used to
hold it on a belt or satchel.
 
Untying
it, she used the leather to tie off her hair into a long braid.
 
Ovier was over by the hearth, returning to
the table with a thick porridge that had been bubbling in a pot and finding a
small bowl of crystalized honey on his cluttered table to sweeten it with.
 
It was an unexpected treat and Alisanne hungrily
slurped it down.
 
Just as she was
finishing with her bowl, the door to the hut lurched open and a big body walked
through.
 
The door slammed heavily behind
it.

“I see you are awake, my lady,” Albert said.
 
He was dressed in full armor including a
tunic bearing the colors of the Hospitallers sect, yellow with black.
 
He looked rather fearsome as he pulled off
his gloves and set them down.
 
“How are
you feeling?”

Alisanne was on her feet, her eyes wide at him. “Your uncle has
cured my eyes,” she said. “It is truly a miracle.”

Albert peered at her eyes, looking better than he had ever seen
them.
 
With her combed hair, she looked
quite beautiful and cared-for, certainly not the red-eyed waif he’d become
acquainted with.

“They look very well,” he agreed. “I am glad he was able to help
you.”

“So am I,” she said. Her manner was very anxious and it was clear
she didn’t want to discuss her eyesight, at least not when heavier things were
weighing upon her. “Your uncle says I have been asleep nearly two days. Is
Roane all right? Have you decided what you shall do to free him?”

Albert cast a long glance at his uncle before answering her. “This
shall be brief, my lady, as I am expected back at the fortress shortly,” he
said. His manner grew serious. “You understand that his sentence is to be
carried out today.”

She blanched but tried not to show how shaken she was. “I do.”

Albert nodded and continued. “I have spoken with Roane.
 
He is well, as is your father.
 
In about an hour, Roane and your father will
be taken from their cell and transported to the scaffolds near the square.
 
I will be escorting them along with eight
other soldiers and two knights.
 
What I
did not plan on was the fact that we have been ordered to keep Roane heavily
restrained; he will be chained to a post because they still fear his omnipotent
power. I did not tell him what you told me, that he no longer possess the
power, because that would mean I have spoken to you and as far as everyone
knows, you and I have never seen one another.”

Alisanne looked very worried. “How will you free him if he is
chained?”

Albert lifted an eyebrow as his focus shifted to his uncle. “I
will need you in the crowd today near the scaffold,” he said to him. “When the
wagon carrying Roane approaches, I will need you to create a diversion of some
kind.
Anything at all in order to allow me to loosen Roane’s
chains.
 
Once his is unchained, I
will provide him with a weapon and we will run for our lives.
 
My lady, this is where you will come in.”

Alisanne was eager. “What can I do?”

Albert pointed a finger at her. “You will be carrying enough
clothing to cloak me, Roane, and your father adequately so that we may blend in
with the peasants,” he said. “We will run to you and you must be in a place we
can easily find you. Do you know the square near the cathedral very well?”

Alisanne shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “I have spent most of
my time in the kitchens of the fortress.”

Albert shook his head. “It is of no matter,” he said, turning to
Ovier. “You will take her to the corner near the well, the corner where the
cobbler’s business is located. Do you know which one I am referring to?”

Ovier nodded shortly. “I do.”

“Take her there,” he instructed. “Leave her with as much peasant
clothing as you can find. My lady, you will wait for us there. Under no
circumstances will you move. Is that clear?”

Alisanne nodded firmly. “It is,” she said.

“Good,” Albert replied, his gaze moving between the two of them.
“About an hour ago, I took my charger and another steed I’d managed to steal
and placed them in a livery on the outskirts of town. It is my intention to
reach that livery and ride as hard as we can away from here.
 
Ovier, once you create the diversion, you
must retreat back to your home and remain. I do not want them to discover your
involvement.”

Ovier appeared much calmer than Albert or Alisanne.
 
In fact, he seemed almost casual about it.
“You needn’t worry,” he said. “No one will suspect an old man and if they do,
well… I have lived a long life.
 
I am not
afraid of Bordeleaux’s soldiers.”

Albert cocked a stern eyebrow. “Try not to get caught, do you
hear? I do not want to have to come back here to rescue your old hide from the
scaffold, either.”

Ovier waved him off. “You won’t,” he said. “What manner of
diversion did you have in mind?”

Albert scratched at his forehead, partially covered by his
hauberk.
 
He was calm, methodical in his
thinking, but it was evident that he was on edge.
 
So much depended upon him that it was
difficult to not feel apprehensive.

“A stampede?” he said, throwing up his hands as he thought aloud.
“A fight?
A fire?
You decide,
Uncle, for I cannot spare the time. I must return to Roane and we must all be
clear on what is to happen.
 
If one of us
does not do as we are supposed to, then all will be lost. Roane and the lady’s
father will meet their death by purification and that is an ugly way to die.”