Revenge of the Rose Read Online Free PDF Page B

in. Do you understand?” Jouglet nodded, still sheepish, and Konrad’s demeanor lightened. He reached out to wrap a brawny arm around the minstrel. Jouglet politely repressed a strangling sound and tried to disengage from the royal limb. “Ladies!” Konrad called out to the wagon of women, his humor instantly restored. “See who has finally presented himself!”
    Jouglet waved broadly to the prostitutes across the damp yard. The group immediately sent up a raucous cheer, whistling and making come-hither gestures.
    “The lovely light women!” the minstrel called and bowed elaborately. “Now a little less light, I presume? Weighed down with the king’s food and gold and the collective male moisture of the camp, are we? Please forgive me for having missed your favors this time.”
    “As long as you spread the word of how captivating His Majesty found all of us,” sweet-faced Jeannette cried out.
    “I’ll spread what I should spread as long as you do likewise,” Jouglet shouted back cheerfully— then with instant sobriety turned to make a show of obeisance to Alphonse and Marcus.
    “Where have you been?” Konrad demanded.
    “On the road as usual, sire,” Jouglet answered, handing the little pipe to one of Konrad’s bodyguards. “I was just on my way to lovely Hagenau to remind you that you simply can’t abide the world without me. How very considerate of you to meet me halfway there, sire— a generous gesture I shan’t soon forget.”
    “You’d have missed us in lovely Hagenau, we’re for lovely Koenigsbourg,” Marcus said dryly.
    Konrad made a face. “Ach, Koenigsbourg, I’d put that out of my mind.” He returned his full attention to Jouglet. “You’ll be docked your entire summer salary. You missed the whole event, dammit, and the musicians were a disappointment this year, weren’t they?” he asked Alphonse, knowing Alphonse hadn’t been there. At the abashed look on Alphonse’s face, Konrad smirked. “Prude. Well, Uncle, I thank you for your most unwelcome news. Perhaps the August Assembly will make a better suggestion for a marriage. I shall veto yours.” Alphonse’s face did not quite hide his displeasure. “We are very much packed up here, but Marcus, tell the cook to find some refreshment for the count. I have some catching up to do with my little spy here.”
    Marcus bowed, respectfully, to his future father-in-law, of whom he was at this moment feeling terrified, although he knew Imogen was safely on her way home. Her scent still lingered on his neat beard; he worried, absurdly, that Alphonse would recognize it. “If you will follow me, sir, there is some Clermont cheese still out.” The two men worked their way back across the yard, leaving Konrad alone with his minstrel and, at a discreet distance, his bodyguards.
    “I hope you at least have worthy new gossip and songs to make up for your absence,” Konrad said. “Take my mind off politics.”
    “But, sire,” Jouglet said confidingly, crouching beside the leather chair, “the juiciest gossip around is of the impending imperial wedding. There’s talk of it all the way to the Rhone! Wherever I travel, they’re wagering entire estates on who the lucky lady will be.”
    Konrad made a face. “Not you as well, Jouglet. I am sick of it.”
    Feigning innocence, Jouglet asked, “Why is it suddenly so important?”
    “Use your brain,” chastised Konrad. “The Duke of Bourgogne has sworn fealty to that pope-kisser Philip of France. You know that— I first heard the rumor from your own mouth.”
    Jouglet shrugged. “The duke was never your subject. He was always independent.”
    “And now he’s not independent,” Konrad said impatiently. “Now he is France’s. And he’s directly between us and France, only now he is an extension of France, and France is an ambitious little whoreson who would love to unburden me of my western counts, several of whom, being shortsighted idiots, would happily conform. Which I’m sure