Medieval 03 - Enchanted

succinctly.
    “Extraordinary,” Deguerre said, opening
his grey-blue eyes wide. “I have only the word of Blackthorne
Keep’s knights that my spices, silks, gems, and gold were
magically transformed to dirt between Normandy and
England.”
    “Aye.”
    “Many men would assume trickery on the part
of one lord or another.”
    “’Tis likely,” Dominic
agreed.
    Deguerre’s smile was different this time. It
was cold and triumphant with the assurance that he had found what
he had hoped to find.
    Greed was one of the oldest and most common of
human weaknesses.
    “Am I being accused of going back on my given
word?” the baron asked kindly.
    “No,” Dominic said. “Nor are we
requiring any payment from you. Yet.”
    Before Deguerre could speak, Amber came into the
solar. She was wearing a scarlet robe, her hair was unbound, and
the amber pendant around her neck gleamed like a pool of captive
sunlight.
    “Lord Dominic,” Amber said, “you
required me?”
    “Nay, lady. I ask a favor.”
    Amber smiled slightly. “It is
yours.”
    “The baron and I have a small mystery we
would like resolved. Would you scry the truth for us?”
    At Dominic’s words, the baron turned and
examined Amber with keen interest.
    “Amber is Learned,” Dominic said to
Deguerre. “She can—”
    “I am aware of Learned gifts,” the
baron said succinctly. “It has been one of my life’s
studies. Does this lady have the gift of truth?”
    “Aye,” Dominic said.
    Deguerre sighed with disappointment.
    “Then you didn’t steal the dowry for
your own use,” the baron said, “or you would never
bring a truthsayer within reach of you. Ah, well. Here, lady. Touch
my hand and discover my truth.”
    Amber let out a long breath, calming herself. Then
she touched Deguerre.
    She cried out and would have gone to her knees if
Duncan had not caught her. Despite the pain scoring her, Amber held
to Deguerre’s hand.
    “Quickly,” Duncan hissed.
    “Did you cheat on your daughter’s
dowry?” Dominic asked the baron.
    “Nay.”
    “Truth.”
    Instantly Amber withdrew her touch.
    “Thank you, lady,” Dominic said.
    Deguerre watched Amber with rather predatory
interest, noting what it had cost her to use her gift.
    “A useful, if fragile, weapon,” he
said. “One I had always hoped to own.”
    Duncan gave the baron a murderous look.
    The baron smiled. “I believe the question is
now mine.”
    Surprised, Amber looked at Dominic.
    “If I may impose, lady?” Dominic asked
reluctantly, holding out his hand.
    Though Amber had never touched the Glendruid Wolf,
she took his hand without hesitation. A tremor went through her,
but it was quickly controlled.
    “Was there anything of value in those chests
when you opened them?” Deguerre asked Dominic.
    “Nothing.”
    “Truth.”
    “Were the seals intact?”
    “Aye.”
    “Truth.”
    “Remarkable indeed,” Deguerre
muttered.
    Dominic lifted his hand from Amber’s.
    “My apologies,” Dominic said. “I
would not bring you pain.”
    “You did not, lord. There is great power in
you, but no cruelty.”
    Deguerre smiled sardonically, for Amber had said no
such thing about him.
    “It appears,” Dominic said, “as
though one of your knights stole Ariane’s dowry.”
    “One of mine? Why not one of
yours?”
    “The seals were intact. Your seals, baron.
Not mine.”
    “Ah, yes.” Deguerre shrugged.
“Sir Geoffrey, I suppose. He was beloved by me and had free
access to my records.”
    “And seals?” Simon asked.
    “And seals.”
    “Now Geoffrey is dead and the dowry is
lost,” Simon said.
    “Have you asked my daughter about
it?”
    “Why would we? She was more shocked than any
of us,” Dominic said. “If she knew where her dowry was,
she would have told us instantly.”
    Deguerre looked at Ariane. “Well, daughter?
Why haven’t you found it for them?”
    “I lost my gift the night Geoffrey raped
me.”
    “Rape. Is that what you told your
husband?” Deguerre asked with a cruel smile.
    “Aye,” Ariane said coolly.
“’Tis what Lady Amber told him, too.”
    Faint surprise showed on Deguerre’s
features.
    “So you truly have lost your gift,”
Deguerre said thoughtfully. “The same thing happened to your
mother when I had her on our wedding night. No witch wants to lose
her powers, but a man knows just how to take them.”
    “You are mistaken,” Meg said
quietly.
    Deguerre’s head spun as he turned to stare at
the small woman who had been so motionless that her