The Rosy Cross Murders: A Charles de la Forêt Mystery by Wray Phillip L

Author:Wray, Phillip L.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
Published: 2023-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

roland visited Charles the next afternoon, carrying several bottles of wine. “I brought you these,” he said, placing them on a side table within Charles’s reach. “I don’t want you going without during your convalescence.”

“You’re truly a friend.”

“How’s your leg?” Roland drew off his hat and cloak, placed them on a chair, and sat at the table.

“Better every day,” Charles replied. He did not add that the wound still had a way to go before it would be healed. “However, I don’t think I’ll be able to jump on a horse for a while.”

Roland snorted. “You couldn’t do that before anyway.”

“I almost could,” Charles replied, frowning.

“N’importe quoi,” said Roland. He uncorked a bottle of wine and poured each of them a glass. He handed Charles one and then paused, staring at his drink. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the announcement came: we ride with the King tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Charles grimaced. “I had hoped things would be delayed long enough for me to join you.”

“Word is that the Spanish have made some border incursions,” Roland said. “Besides, time and tide wait for no man.”

“That’s a pretty good saying,” Charles said appreciatively. “Did you come up with that?”

“I don’t want word of this to get around,” Roland said, looking around in exaggerated fashion, “but I’ve started reading. It was in a book.”

“What? Reading?” Charles stammered. “You?”

Roland nodded. “I know. It’s unfair that someone as great a swordsman and lover as me would also want to develop his mind, but maybe you’ve had an influence on me.”

Charles laughed, trying to envision Roland spending his evenings shooing away his many female companions so he could pore over texts. He suspected this was a fancy that soon would pass. “So tell me, are you ready to ride?”

“Of course.” Roland took a drink. “I’d be more worried about the Spaniards’ readiness than mine.”

“They’d better lock up their daughters,” Charles said, laughing.

“Absolument!”

“How about Jean and Louis?”

“As ready as they’ll ever be.”

Having spent so much time together training and carousing, Charles knew Roland as well as anyone. He detected a strain in his voice despite his playful banter. He looked at him seriously and asked, “Tell me honestly, does going into battle worry you?”

“I already confessed to reading a book. You must think this a day for baring my soul,” Roland said. When Charles did not respond and continued gazing at him, Roland took a long drink. “This is something else that stays between us, d’accord?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t fear any man in a fair fight. In fact, I’m not sure I fear anyone even in an unfair fight. But a battle makes me a little apprehensive. I would hate to be downed by a lucky shot from some foot soldier who scarcely knows one end of the gun from the other. No amount of skill with a blade or musket could keep that from happening.”

“That won’t happen to you,” Charles said, realizing immediately how hollow that sounded.

“No, I suspect it won’t.” Roland took another drink. He seemed embarrassed by his admission, keeping his eyes fixed on the glass in his hand.

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