Thursday before the Feast of Saint John, 1198

The bailey was alive with activity--a castle's preparations for war--so the peasant was little regarded as he made his way over to approach Stephan. Hat in hand, he held out a small square of folded paper. "Who from?" the knight demanded. "The lady, in the encampment," the villager stammered before taking a quick leave. Stephan regarded it, then unfolded the vellum. The hand within was neat, but it might as well have been Aramaic: Stephan could not read.

He found Madeleine in the library. "From the Lady Juliana," she confirmed, then looked sheepish. "It is supposed to be a secret, for you alone." "Just read it," Stephan replied. "She says she will ride in the hog wood at Sext, and asks that you find her there, alone. She will have only her maid." Stephan studied the stonework at the far side of the library. A message, a love letter—or a trap of some sort. "I do not trust her," Lady Madeleine opined. "Maybe we should talk to Gaspard."

The found Michi outside Gaspard's door. "There's somethin' wrong with Gaspard," he said. "He went out last night and was gone for hours, but won't say where he's been. It's as though he's got a mind of his own all the sudden." "Cyril went about for some hours after Compline as well," Stephan said. "He claimed Gaspard sent him on an errand." They entered the lab to find Gaspard huddled under a blanket. "You have suffered a shock!" Madeleine exclaimed, but try as they might, they could get no further details from the magus.

Sext was approaching. Stephan had Cyril saddle Renfrogne, then set out into the hog wood. The note called for secrecy, but Michi, Gaspard, and Madeleine were not far behind--along with Gigot and Celestine, whom Madeleine had been tasking together quite a lot recently. As the letter promised, Lady Juliana was riding her palfrey along the hog-trodden paths, her wizened maid trailing behind afoot. Both dismounted and walked. "Please forgive my manner," the young lady said. "I am unaccustomed to treachery. But it is no secret my lord Etien covets this castle, and he will seek to take it." "So why do you speak to me?" Stephan asked. Juliana looked troubled. "I have not been long in my uncle's court, but I see that he gets no good council. His knights fear him, and will not oppose his temper--he has none so bold as you. Surely there is some way to bring this to a peaceable conclusion?" "I am a man of war," Stephan replied, "and though I may love peace, I do not have the skills of a diplomat. What can I do?" "In one of the many squabbles among the Bavarian princes, my mother served as a hostage. My Count would have this castle--but he also offered marriage. Perhaps a token of trust would assuage his ambition--enough so he would see no threat in the castle, even if he cannot hold it."

It was nearly Vespers. Stephan had returned from his secluded rendez-vous with much to think on and a promise to meet again the day after the morrow, and had spent the afternoon giving Cyril some rather harsh lessons in swordplay. Suddenly a man rushed through the gate. "The Count attacks!" Stephan called for Renfrogne and sped from the bailey, Michi, Madeleine, and Gaspard in tow. It was no full-scale assault--rather, a wagon on the road approaching, just beyond the trees, beset upon by soldiers. Stephan put the spur to his destrier, but Madeleine's eye was caught by a commotion in a copse concealed by a nearby hedgerow. Someone had disturbed an angry raven: More soldiers, and a knight as well. No sooner had Stephan and Michi reached the cart than the knight--it was Gervais, from the feast--charged their flank, his lance seeking Stephan's heart. The blow caught Stephan's shield, and the latter knocked it wide. Arming swords were drawn, and the two armored horsemen jostled in a struggling circle, raining blows upon one another as they sought opening. Madeleine climbed into the cart (the driver having fled) and started from the battlefield, while Michi faced down the Count's soldiers.

Gervais was a powerful and determined opponent--the toughest knight Stephan had ever faced. Both were bloodied and bruised when Gervais rang a powerful blow off Stephan's helmet. The latter was dazed, and might have given his opponent the opening needed for a killing blow. But Gervais was in little better shape, and as he positioned for the final attack an unexpected strike from Michi dropped him from his courser, bleeding and unconscious. The tiny field of battle was suddenly silent in the evening half-light: The Count's men had all fled or been felled.