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better than that.
He let his gaze wander to the horizon before he waved to the
statues on the wall. Henri, Jehann, Guiscard, Roul& those
were& are my brothers.
Holy Mother, Philippe breathed out. Your flesh and blood
brothers?
No longer flesh and blood, but still my family.
They don t change as you do?
He stood and placed a hand on Henri s shoulder. They are
always stone. I think sometimes& I believe sometimes they still
hear me. I have no way to know, of course. Henri was the oldest.
Our liege lord once my father passed on. Solid, reliable. A bit too
cautious, I suppose. A bit too traditional.
Jehann was next on the wall, his gentle, thoughtful expression
so much as he had been in life, it often made Étienne weep. Next
is Jehann. Our scholar, our thinker. He had thoughts of the clergy,
once. But Henri needed him, and so he stayed.
Philippe shifted to lean back against a nearby stone block,
attentive and sympathetic, so he went on.
Then comes Guiscard. Hothead, sometimes wastrel, but there
is no better swordsman in Languedoc. The ladies always loved him
best, though he was the worst catch out of all of us. Finally, he
stopped to lean his head against the largest gargoyle s shoulder.
And this& this is our Roul. Huge as a mountain, gentle as a
summer breeze. He&
Étienne bit his lip, struggling with the tightness in his throat.
He is a simple, innocent soul. He did not deserve this.
42
FORTUNE S SHARP ADVERSITY
Tien, come sit down. Tell me what happened.
He stroked one of Roul s great, curling horns and kissed his
cheek. When he trusted himself not to burst into tears like a little
boy, he sat cross-legged by Philippe.
I told you that my family fell on difficult times.
You ve mentioned, yes.
Henri tried. We all helped as we could. Sometimes things
seemed to get better. But something always shattered the slow
climb from the mud. A hard winter killed the wheat. A too wet
summer sickened the sheep. Always another disaster to knock us
down again.
Philippe s hand on his knee steadied him.
For me, it mattered little, the lack of funds. I would have been
content with a soldier s life. But we had people beholden to us. We
could not have our tenants starve. And there was some small
matter of pride involved. I might be the youngest, but I felt the
sting of it as much as Henri did.
So you came home from the Crusades to find your family s
fortunes& reduced.
To say the least. Étienne covered the hand on his knee,
relieved when the strong fingers closed around his. For some
months, I took charge of the accountings. My brothers may always
think of me as the little one, but they do acknowledge my prowess
with ciphers. It became all too clear to me that we were ruined.
When my mother offered to sell her emeralds, I could bear no
more.
Your poor mother&
Étienne lifted his hand, stroking his thumb over the calluses.
That work-hardened hand& he tamped down hard on the desire to
feel those strong hands on his skin again. He kissed Philippe s
43
FORTUNE S SHARP ADVERSITY
knuckles and rose to pace, gesticulating as he spoke.
There were rumors, you understand. Old tales in the
countryside. There is an ancient fortress not two days ride from our
château. Some say it was built by Vercingetorix, but this is
nonsense. The old Gallic chieftain would not have built such a
massive thing in stone. Something older, others said. Perhaps not
even built by human hands. And there& there&
He stabbed the air with one finger, feeling again the vehemence
of his initial fever of discovery. There I heard a great treasure lay
hidden.
To save your tenants and your poor mother s pride.
Ah, mon ange, yes, and so much more. I had ambitions.
Michelant would be a great house again, a powerful family, and it
would be due to my actions. My brothers would see that I was not a
man to regard lightly, that my advice held true weight.
I think I see where this leads, Tien.
I m certain you ve heard enough of the old stories that you
do. He put on his best arrogant air. However, this is my story,
which I intend to finish.
As you will, monsieur, Philippe said in that dry tone that he
had begun to recognize as wry amusement.
A treasure, I say. I persuaded all my brothers to come with
me. Étienne heaved a slow breath. We should have left Roul at
home. At least he would have been left as maman s protector. But
none of them wished to stay behind. The sun gleamed bright off
the ancient stones. The birds sang in the vines that choked the
walls. All seemed right with the world. Even if there was no
treasure, it was a bit of adventure, a summer s day lark, eh?
You mustn t prolong it so, mon cher. You torture yourself to
no good end.
44
FORTUNE S SHARP ADVERSITY
Étienne shrugged. There is no one to blame but me, after all.
Eh bien& the old ruins exuded cold, as if they sucked the warmth
from your bones. But we went in, joking and taunting each other to
hold back our fears. Stairs led down and down again, deep into the
earth, down into chambers carved from the bedrock. Our path
ended in huge, carved doors, the likes of which none of us had ever
seen. Fantastic animals and birds festooned the carvings, dragon-
like beings on two legs, plants that no man has ever seen. We beat
upon them, flung ourselves against them. But they were
unyielding, hard as ironwood. Guiscard and Henri were ready to
abandon the enterprise.
Jehann found the key, a spot in the midst of giant ferns that
depressed into the wood. The portal clicked and the doors swung
inward with a hideous shriek. In the cavern beyond, lay a stone
chest, heavily carved again in the same style as the doors and
larger than a man s bed. Here at least I had some inkling of what to
do, from rumors and old tales whispered in the dark. I drew my
sword and laid my palm open, over the horrified protestations of
my brothers. A shallow depression interrupted the carving on the
lid. It seemed the obvious receptacle, so I let my blood drip into
this bowl. A thunderous crack sounded and a seam appeared
through the lid s center. Roul shoved the two halves apart.
Was there treasure?
His head snapped around to pin Philippe with a sharp glance,
but the shine in those lapis eyes was frank curiosity. Philippe s lips
were parted, his body leaned forward, his whole being caught up in
the narrative. His angel was a bit stubborn and proud, but avarice
did not seem a familiar vice to him.
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