A Calculus of Angels by J. Gregory Keyes

Author:J. Gregory Keyes [Keyes, J. Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Epic, SteamPunk, Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9781439501207
Publisher: Paw Prints
Published: 2008-06-25T14:00:00+00:00

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12.

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Jealousy and the Moon

Duke Francis Stephen of Lorraine raised his wineglass. �A toast,� he said, beaming. �To Mademoiselle de Mornay de Montchevreuil, our savior and beloved guest.�

Adrienne humbly inclined her head as the duke, Hercule, and Crecy drank the toast.

�I would rather drink to the recovery of Mademoiselle Crecy,� Adrienne said, lifting her glass.

�Hear, hear,� the duke seconded, finishing what remained of his wine. His valet quickly filled his glass again, and he sipped before addressing the company.

�I have been among the men today, and they send their regards. To tell you the truth, I believe that many had begun to fear for the success of our quest, but you have restored their hearts, lady. What man does not take hope when the new Joan of Arc rides with him?�

�Sir!� cried Crecy. �Do not curse my friend so by bringing that name upon her! I, for one, would prefer not to see her martyred.�

�Of course,� the duke replied, �but Saint Joan was martyred because she was surrounded by fools, and I hope that the present company is not comparable!�

�There are fools in any company,� Crecy remarked.

�I suppose you speak of the chaplain,� Hercule said.

�He did refuse to join us,� Adrienne murmured.

�You must understand that he is not so much a fool as a jealous man. That he, a man of God, is not so favored by God as our dear Adrienne.�

�Jealousy is foolish in and of itself,� Crecy avowed, with perhaps a hint of irony in her voice. �And in this case, leads to foolish comments. He has been heard to swear that our Adrienne is in league with the devil.�

�An unheeded remark,� Francis asserted, �for every man among us knows that were she diabolic, she would not have delivered us from the Russians. No, pay no attention to that one, I beg you. He serves his purpose as confessor to the men, but no one will listen to him in this.�

�I do not take him to heart,� Adrienne added, trickling a little more of the dry wine upon her tongue�watching amusedly as the duke tried to keep his composure, despite the fact that Crecy was stroking his leg with her bare foot. Privately, she believed that the men in general simply did not care whether she served good or evil, so long as she was on their side. When she rode along the train, she caught a distrustful glance now and then�but always it melted into a simulacrum of adulation when it found itself discovered. No, she would not be named a witch until either her powers failed or the company reached a secure place and festered there a while. In peace they would turn on her, not before.

The next round was brandy, not wine, and Adrienne took only a bit, having proven in the past unable to withstand the eifects of strong liquor. Crecy, however, did not hesitate, matching the men glass for glass, until all three were rather unsteady.

After dinner, they

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