Listen to the Wind by Susanne Dunlap

Author:Susanne Dunlap
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bellastoria Press LLP
Published: 2019-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

The fragile walls of my heart

Are in danger of falling apart

Without your firm hand

To make sure they stand.

I beg you return to our home

I cannot make my stand alone

Without your strong arm

To work its great charm.

Her own guile made her laugh. No one would question a young wife’s impulse to send an amorous canso to her absent husband. She hoped that Belascon had enough intelligence and subtlety to understand the message.

Belascon in Bésiers. Azalaïs sighed. Perhaps Azemar had reached that city and waited for her in vain to join him there. Chances were small that he actually survived to this day, but it was not impossible. After all, she, little Azalaïs, had managed it.

She shook her head and rolled the canso up into a small scroll, sealing it with wax before going in search of the seneschal. He would know how to prepare for the danger they all faced, and would send for Marcu to take the letter to the baron.

On her way, Azalaïs passed Johana carrying her basket of sewing in the direction of the solar.

“Johana, come with me,” Azalaïs commanded.

“Yes, Ma Domna.”

Azalaïs didn’t have time to notice Johana’s surprise at her tone of command.

Milos had remained in the linen cabinet awaiting her return so they could continue their inventory of linens. “This task will wait for another day,” Azalaïs said, “I wish you to send for Marcu to take a message to the baron at Bésiers, and then we must go speak to ma domna Ermengarde.”

The seneschal clapped his hands and two house servants appeared. “Put these away, he said. “And send Marcu to me.”

The three of them strode to the baron’s privy chamber and stopped when they reached the door. Azalaïs raised her fist to knock, but halted her hand before her knuckles touched the wood and glanced at Johana, who raised an eyebrow. With a deep breath, Azalaïs grasped the iron handle and pushed the door open without knocking.

Domna Ermengarde sat alone at the table with a sheet of parchment in front of her. As soon as she saw who entered, she rolled the parchment up. “Have you finished already?”

“I have more important matters than linens to discuss with you,” Azalaïs said. “I have been made aware of a certain danger that affects us all.” Azalaïs motioned Johana and Milos to sit at the table then closed the door.

The old barona’s face darkened, but before she could speak, Azalaïs said, “I have been informed that there is a plot to attack the castel tomorrow.”

Azalaïs didn’t know how she expected her belamaire to respond, but certainly not with an unsurprised, impatient sigh. “There will be no attack. I, too, heard the rumors and archbishop Amiel assures me that they are untrue.” She waved the parchment in Azalaïs’s direction.

So, Azalaïs thought, you were worried enough to send word to the archbishop of Narbona. Something told her that this moment would be important, that she must make a stand now or accept a position of perpetual subservience to this lady who ruled over the baron’s domain in his name.

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