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Chapter Twenty-three

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Day Two

Christopher

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After the very disturbing breakfast, Christopher had intended to go straight to the Paris Temple in order to relate all that had transpired. But as the meal was ending, John Sr. asked the steward for a room for them in the palace, and Christopher had been unable to extricate himself, even with a long trip to the loo. Rather than the fancy chamber that had been given to David, theirs was in the same building but on the ground floor, around a corner, at the back, sandwiched between two much larger rooms.

From a study of the curve of the wall, it even seemed to Christopher that this particular room could have been a guardroom once, or even a latrine, which for some reason had been converted into a room so small it couldn’t quite be called a bedroom. There was one bed he and John were meant to share.

Like that was ever going to happen. Not.

“We have to get back to the Temple.” John Jr. had barely stepped into the room when he blurted out the words. Since it was exactly what Christopher had been thinking, he felt the same urgency, if not fear.

At the same time, Christopher moved past him with quick steps, peered down the corridor, and closed the door. “The walls have ears.”

John Jr.’s brow furrowed. “The walls have what?”

“Ears.” Christopher made a dismissive motion with one hand, understanding the meaning of the phrase wasn’t immediately obvious. Now he said in a whisper. “You never know who could be listening.”

John Jr.’s eyes widened, and he nodded. He’d heard about the secret passages in the walls of the palace, of course, even if he’d gone with Thomas and the children to the kitchen for the bulk of the conversation at the Temple last night. That Philippe was willing not only to rescue David and his family through his passages, but consequently make the English court aware of a secret he’d kept from his own people, revealed how badly he needed David on his side.

Coming back to John Jr., Christopher said, “We don’t have to stay here every second, right? We’re not prisoners. Having rooms in the palace is supposed to be an honor.”

John Jr. looked dubious. “You didn’t see the look on my father’s face as you walked by. He was staring at you, and he wasn’t smiling. I think he means to keep an eye on you as well as me.”

Christopher didn’t like the sound of that. “Then I should go. With your father so highly placed at court, you’re in no danger. But one of us has to get to the Temple. I’ll just have to be careful I’m not follow—”

A knock on the door interrupted the rest of his sentence. John Jr. seemed to have lost his courage again, though he’d done very well up until now, and he took a step away, almost cowering behind the wardrobe like Christopher had done the previous night in Isabelle’s room.

This time, however, Christopher was a lot less worried about who might be knocking. In the last hour, he hadn’t done anything wrong. So he approached, took in a breath, and lifted the latch.

Isabelle stood on the doorstep. “May I come in?”

“Please.” He gestured her inside and quickly closed the door behind her.

At the sight of her, John Jr. looked like someone had bonked him on the head, like in a Daffy Duck or Porky Pig cartoon. Unlike when Isabelle had snuck Christopher out of the palace, for which she’d thrown on whatever she had to hand, today she was dressed in blue silk, which matched her eyes perfectly, and wore her blonde hair piled elegantly on the top of her head.

She could have been any simpering lady of the court, but she didn’t mince her steps as she crossed the floor, and she sat on the end of the bed with hardly a flounce beyond what was necessary to keep her skirt wrinkle-free. “I’m glad to see you survived the night.”

Christopher stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “That was in large part thanks to you.” He found himself speaking formally, like David might. “What can we do for you?”

He’d said we, but with John Jr. entirely mute, Isabelle ignored him and looked directly at Christopher. “This time I’m hoping you can get me out of the palace.”

Christopher blinked. “Really?”

“I can’t stay here another hour. I need you to take me to my father. The guards would look askance at me leaving the palace unescorted.”

“Even to see your father?”

She shook her head.

Christopher wet his lips. “Last night he said he was going to look in on you this morning. You’re saying he hasn’t?”

Only after he’d spoken did Christopher realize how much he’d given away. He should have no idea what Matthew Norris had said or not said last night.

Isabelle didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, he did, first thing, and we decided it would be best if I stayed where I was.” She clasped her hands before her lips and looked down at the floor for a second, apparently gathering her thoughts. Then she looked up. “But now I think I can’t.”

“Can you tell me why not?” He asked a bit delicately, not wanting to pry if this was something between her and her father, but he figured he should know more given the urgency of his own mission.

“Remember what I told you earlier about eavesdropping?”

“That you have a flexible view of the morality of it? Of course.”

“I overheard something that’s more than disturbing. I need to tell my father.”

“Will you tell me where you were when you heard it?”

“Not the latrine.” She pressed her lips together, thinking again, but then gave a sharp nod. “There are passages—”

Christopher instantly put up a hand. Philippe’s secret was a lot less secret than he knew. “I know about those already. Don’t say anything more, not inside the palace. I’ll get you to your father.”

Isabelle had blinked in surprise initially, but now she made a rueful face. “He won’t like that I’ve come to the Temple. Men only, you see.”

“You will find that isn’t the case today.” Christopher gave her a mischievous grin and threw all caution to the winds. Isabelle already knew too much, and if she wasn’t on their side and a co-conspirator, she needed to be. “My mother is there, for starters.”

At the moment, Elisa was knee-deep in plans to rescue Philippe’s family from Vincennes, though Isabelle didn’t need to know that part.

Her mouth formed an oh that she didn’t vocalize, and Christopher was already moving towards the door. He opened it, looked both ways, and then held out his hand to Isabelle, indicating she should come to him. As she did so, Christopher looked past her to John Jr., who was still nearly immobile by the wardrobe. “You okay?”

John Jr. gave Christopher a jiggering nod. “Go.” Then his shoulders sagged, and he sat down on the end of the bed where Isabelle had been sitting. “I’ll be fine.”

Christopher and Isabelle set off, her hand in the crook of his arm. Together they paraded down the corridor and then out into the main courtyard of the castle. The rain had let up earlier when Christopher had arrived with John Jr. but now it began to fall a little harder, forming rivulets between the flagstones. All the better castles had paved courtyards and pathways, and Philippe’s palace was no exception.

“I was looking for a way out too, since I have some news for your father as well. My plan was to walk to the Paris Temple, but are you prepared for that? We should get you a carriage, right?”

“I don’t want to wait for a—” Isabelle pulled up short at the sight of her father (of course it was her father), wearing the white Templar surcoat and cloak, entering the palace on horseback.

Norris dismounted before he saw them, but as he tossed his reins to a stable boy, he pulled up short at the sight of Christopher and Isabelle waiting for him.

“Father.” Isabelle started forward, and Norris stared at her for a second before he switched his attention to Christopher and hurried towards them.

Christopher widened his eyes, trying to signal to Norris that this was a public place, and they needed to act like they didn’t know each other. Thus, when they met in the center of the courtyard, Christopher bowed. “May I introduce myself, sir. I am Christophe de Clare.”

Isabelle frowned, looking from one to the other. “What—”

Christopher bent his head close to hers. “I’ll explain everything when we are out of the palace. Just go along for now.”

Norris gave Christopher a sharp nod before looking again to his daughter. “I am here because the king has summoned me on a most urgent matter.”

Christopher supposed he should have realized that would happen. This time, not only did he lower the volume of his voice and step closer, but switched to English. This was a very public place for them to be meeting, and there was a definite limit to what he should be saying and doing with eyes watching, but Norris needed to know what he was walking into. At least they were standing in the rain, and nobody else was within earshot.

“Philippe is going to ask the Templars to round up every Jewish citizen of Paris and expel them from the city.” Christopher decided now wasn’t the time to mention his bit of manipulation that ensured it. “Tonight.”

Norris’s expression went completely still, but Isabelle tugged on Christopher’s arm, which she was still holding. “That’s not all, Father! I was ... passing by when I overheard Nogaret and Flote speaking with the Duke of Burgundy.”

Norris tsked under his breath. “How did that come about?” Then he put up a hand, seeming to understand that some questions were best not answered. “Never mind. What did they say?”

“Until now, I feared they were discussing your order. It was why I was so adamant that Christopher escort me to see you. But Christopher’s news is equally disturbing. The duke said, They’ll never loan to Philippe again. Flote replied, It doesn’t matter. What we take from them tonight will cover many of our current debts, after which they won’t be of use to us anyway. Burgundy replied, Where will they go? to which Nogaret said, Why would they have to go anywhere? Five miles out of the city should do it.”