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He tried to speak. His tongue felt like a woolen slipper. After a
few grunts, he managed, Was it?
Was it what?
Terrible? Never seen&
Oh. I suppose you ve never seen it yourself. Some of the
frantic quality leeched out of Philippe s voice. It was& the stone
split, like some unnatural egg cracking. You seemed to struggle to
free yourself.
Gruesome chick.
No, Tien. Not gruesome. But I feared for you. I thought the
stone splitting would split your skin. Instead, it was& absorbed
into you. It left you whole and yourself again, but blind and
hindered. Then I feared you would topple from the wall. I pulled
you off. And now you shiver so.
It will pass. Étienne blinked. A blurred face resolved above
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FORTUNE S SHARP ADVERSITY
him. He smiled. I see you now.
Good& good.
Étienne found himself wrapped in a hard bear hug. A few days
before, he would have protested and fought for some distance.
Now he was simply grateful for Philippe s solid warmth, for the
fact that Philippe had returned at all. Forgive me, he murmured.
I will think on it. But you have much to atone for.
What& penance?
Don t be facetious. I deserve explanations, don t you think?
Explanations?
Yes, I presume you weren t born with this& affliction.
Affliction. Ha. Hard shivers kept him from forcing out much
more than a word at a time. Moment. Need a moment.
Of course. I don t mean to harry you. Philippe wrapped the
cloak close around him. I wish I could take you somewhere
warm. Let you lie by the fire.
Fireside. Sounds lovely. He clutched at Philippe s tunic, jaw
clenched against his shaking. Would there be heated wine& at
your fireside? Rabbit stew, perhaps?
Hmm, most likely mead instead of wine. Philippe pressed
Étienne s face into the hollow of his neck. Warm and warmer.
And most likely turnip and parsnip stew this time of year. Perhaps
we might have a pigeon for the pot.
Perfect. I like your fireside.
Philippe s hold loosened and he pulled back far enough so they
could see each other. Better?
Much, thank you. I ve never had company before. During the
changes, that is.
So I gathered. Philippe helped him sit up, keeping firm hold
of one of his hands. Tien, how did this happen to you?
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FORTUNE S SHARP ADVERSITY
Étienne huffed out a breath. Stupidity, plain and simple.
I didn t think it was through some wise and measured course
of actions, Philippe admonished in a dry tone. You need to do
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.
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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
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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.
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