There were six men, by his count, and perhaps two boys. He and his fellows were outnumbered then, even though he did not think these men so well equipped. He doubted they were as well trained as he. From the sounds, they were a bit drunk.
Even so, the odds were longer than Amaury might prefer.
Two men approached his tent, their daggers drawn. Amaury could see shadows of horses, held back by the others. One steedwas white, fairly glowing in the moonlight, a most unusual choice for a brigand.
“Who dares to camp at Montvieux?” that first man demanded again, and this time Amaury was certain of his identity. Though the men were dressed roughly as mercenaries, he saw the glimmer of the chain mail hauberk of the one who spoke.
And the gleam of his boots. Amaury bit back a smile. His brother Roland has always been most fastidious about the care of his boots.
His brothers were not missing. They had not fled, but they evaded those who rode out from Marnis, as was only good sense.
Amaury did not doubt that his youngest brother Sebastian was also in the company, perhaps the second one approaching the tent. That man looked to be the right height.
Against every expectation, he had found his brothers – and they were precisely where they belonged.
“Speak!” Roland demanded, reaching for the opening of the tent. “Defend yourself!” he cried, then Amaury hooted like an owl, a signal to his fellows that friends came among them.
Both of his brothers spun to confront him, following the sound.
“Who dares to challenge the Lord de Montvieux?” Amaury bellowed and saw his brothers’ posture change in shock. When he stood, he saw Luc and Thierry close upon the party that hung back, even as Lothair was positioned behind Roland and Sebastian.
“Who speaks thus?” Roland asked, peering into the darkness. He spun, his own blade flashing in his hand. Amaury saw him assess whether to cast the knife, then decide against it.
He also admired how Sebastian moved behind Roland, swift in the shadows, that he might attack from darkness. Amaurygave his brother no time to load his bow. He bounded forward, flinging out his hands as he halted before Roland.
“I am Amaury de Montvieux,” he declared. “Brothers, I am returned from Outremer and beyond glad to find you hale.”
“Amaury!” Roland shouted with joy.
“Amaury!” Sebastian cried with delight and within a moment, Amaury was caught in a tight hug with his younger brothers.
As was their custom, they asked questions in such rapid succession that he had no chance of replying. In the meantime, Amaury’s companions escorted his brothers’ followers forward, followed by the horses and boys.
“When did you arrive?”
“You cannot be alone.”
“What have you eaten?”
“Is this marvel your tent? Wherever did you acquire it?”
“How was Outremer? What adventures did you have?”
To Amaury’s surprise, his brothers’ company carried a dead deer, and suddenly he recalled where he had seen a white horse of late. Sure enough, it looked to be Denis’ destrier they led closer. The harness had to be the same.
“What have you done?” he demanded, interrupting them. His brothers looked as one toward the horse. Roland looked a bit chastened, but Sebastian was defiant.
“We have struck a blow for righteousness,” he said. “It is a small deed, no more than a jest, but I wager the Lord de Marnis’ son had sore feet by the time he reached his bed.” The men laughed at this, but Amaury did not share in their mirth.
For in that moment, Isabella came forward, led by Philip to the fire that was being kindled anew, her hair hanging loose over her shoulder. Her surprise was clear when she spied the horse and Amaury knew she both recognized the horse and dreaded the result of this prank.
“Why isshehere?” Sebastian demanded hotly.
“Tell me that you are not the league of bandits plaguing travellers upon the roads?” Amaury demanded of his brothers. Sebastian averted his gaze, unapologetic, while Roland straightened with hostility.
“And what if we are? Are we to stand by while the son of Marnis hunts in the forests of Montvieux? Is it not sufficient that they burned our home and claimed Father’s treasury?” He fell silent in sudden surprise, peering at Amaury. “Do you know about Father?”
“Aye,” Amaury said. ’Twas not the moment to reveal all that he knew of that man’s death, let alone to ask all the questions in need of answers. He knew he sounded stern when he continued, but he was shocked and dismayed. “Why would you turn to lawlessness? It is a violation of your knightly vows, and contrary to every expectation Father had of you. Even his loss is not cause for such a choice.”