Chapitre Vingt-Neuf

Sous Son Charme

Mallory

Duchess Armand grunted in irritation. She'd be able to walk so much faster were it not for the baby in her womb weighing down on her. With every step she felt as if her thigh-bones were grinding in their sockets. With every stride it became harder to breathe.

Still, she pressed on. She was determined to catch up with her husband and make him explain himself.

The doors to the cathedral burst open in front of her, and she saw him across the sanctuary, leaving the confessional. What sin was he so willing to share with a priest but so unwilling to share with her?

"Jehan!" she called out.

He jumped and his face turned pale like death as her shout filled the Cathedral's sanctuary.

She sauntered up to him and folded her arms. "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

Jehan stood there for a few moments, staring at her with an inquisitive look on his face. Clearly, he must know that she'd figured out one of his secrets, but his mere hesitation as he tried to figure out which one gave away just about how much her husband was lying to her. Every moment he paused she became more and more furious. It was a fire raging within her that he allowed to spread with every passing second.

"You sent Blaise to follow me?" Jehan asked in a hushed tone.

"Never you mind who I sent," Mallory snapped. "I want to hear it from your own lips!" She poked him in the chest with one finger repeatedly.

Jehan sighed and shook his head. Good, he was conceding defeat rather than fighting her on this. "My dear wife, come, let us return to our apartment. I will tell you everything once we are there."

The whole carriage ride back to the apartment the two of them were silent. Mallory looked over at him several times, but he kept his eyes fixed ahead, refusing to return her gaze. A part of her couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction at this. The powerful Duke Armand, champion of the Church and master of Le Jeu Fatal cowered in the presence of his wife when he knew she had cause to be angry with him.

Though it seemed like it had taken far longer, the two of them arrived at the apartment in a little less than half an hour. Once inside, Jehan hung up his and Mallory's coats and slumped down onto the sofa. "This is about my meetings with Bishop Obert, yes?"

"That's right," said Mallory, flopping down on the opposite sofa and folding her hands in her lap. Her scowl never left her brow. This man was finally coming clean, but he had to do a lot more than that to assuage her wrath.

"Then you know about Demitri," said Jehan. "What do you already know?"

"Why don't you just tell me everything?" Mallory asked. In truth, all she knew is that Blaise's agents had heard the name spoken aloud when they listened through the walls, but she wasn't about to show her hand. Honestly, to have to play Le Jeu Fatal even with her own husband was just absurd.

Jehan covered his face with both hands for a moment and rubbed his temples with his index fingers. "I've told you before about my days as a witch hunter? Back when I was studying to become a priest?"

"Yes. Yes, of course," said Mallory. "And then your older brother died and you had to change goals, what does that have to do with Demitri?"

"More than you might think." Jehan looked over to the door, then lowered his voice and said, "Please, listen to me. When I was a young man, long before we met, I hunted witches for the Church. The witches spoke of a leader among them, a grand witch who destroyed our ships at sea, who caused women to miscarry their babies, and who was prophesied to bring about the end of the Lyrist Church. I went to investigate."

Jehan looked up at the ceiling, as if that blank, white space above him would somehow help him better recall the events. "I tracked the covens down to a shack in the woods, not far from the border with the nation of Hyrax. I..." Jehan hesitated a moment and brought his eyes back down to meet Mallory's. There was a deep regret in his stare. A sadness more intense even than what he'd expressed when Corina died.

Mallory shivered, and Jehan continued. "I was young and foolish. I thought to face the witches on my own, make myself a hero, so I didn't call for reinforcements. When night fell I saw light within the shack, so I kicked in the door and pointed my crossbow at the woman I saw within.

"But what I saw caught me off guard. See, I was friends with Obert back then, back when he was merely a priest and not yet a bishop. The woman I saw inside was his sister, Charlot."

Mallory gasped. "Charlot? The famous witch who..."

"Who nearly brought Salia to its knees," Jehan finished her sentence and nodded. "Yes, the same. Obert later told me that he'd long suspected that his sister was a witch, but he didn't want to believe it. Sadly, it's the things we refuse to believe that often hurt us the most when they prove themselves true."

Jehan breathed in deeply through his nose and licked his lips. "Like a fool I lowered my crossbow. That moment of hesitation was all she needed, for when her eyes met mine my body went weak. I collapsed on the floor and awoke hours later, tied to a chair."

Jehan covered the lower half of his face with one hand and looked down at the floor. As far as Mallory could tell, this was not a trick to help him remember, he was avoiding eye contact. Was he ashamed of what happened next?

"When I awoke," he continued, pausing again for a few moments, "She was still there... and I was there... and both of us were naked. She'd stripped me of my clothes and tied me up." Jehan shuddered at the memory and his face contorted in disgust. "She did some sort of dance; a sensual, vulgar dance that... oh, by Lyr... I can only describe it as bewitching. The moment she loosed my bonds I began to dance with her. Looking back on it, I'm still not sure where the music was coming from. I don't know what potion she'd forced me to drink, or what spell she cast, but it was like a demon had control of me..."

He paused again and bit one of his knuckles. Tears welled up in his eyes. No, he wasn't going to get away with this that easily. Mallory knew telling this secret must have hurt him, but that was his fault. He was the one who insisted on keeping this secret for so long.

"Don't stop there," Mallory said. "Don't you dare stop there! You owe me the truth!"

"I do," said Jehan, nodding. "You're right, I most certainly do. As we danced, naked as two heathens... she kissed me. Then I kissed her. Then... we found ourselves in her bed. Lyr help me! I couldn't control myself! I was overcome with a most demonic lust! I sinned against Lyr and..."

Jehan sighed and shielded his eyes from Mallory's piercing gaze with his hand. "A year later Charlot was caught and put on trial... I was one of the witch hunters who arrested her. In her home here in Senon I found a baby, just a few months old."

Jehan slowly lowered his hand and looked up at Mallory. Tears spilled over his cheeks as he said, "My son, Mallory. My only son. I was certain of it. He was the proper age. The only son I've ever had... a witch-born. I knew my duty, Mallory. I knew the baby deserved to die. I had him in my hands, ready to drop him into the river, let Lyr receive his body. But I couldn't do it. Lyr help me! My sense of mercy got in the way of my duty! So, in the middle of the night, I found Obert in his church, now that he had become Bishop, and asked for his help. He agreed to hide the witch born child because it was his nephew, and we both held the secret that Charlot was his sister."

Mallory's whole body went cold as she realized what he was saying, "So Demitri is..."

"My witch born son," said Jehan. "I didn't tell you because... well, is it any wonder why I didn't tell you? How could I tell my wife, my true love, that not only was she not the first woman I ever had relations with, but that the first woman who took that part of me was a witch? How could I tell her that my first child was not only not hers, but also a witch born?"

"How could you tell her," said Mallory, "That the very reason she cannot give you a son is because you've not truly repented of your sin?"

"What?" Jehan stood from the sofa, a furious look on his face. "How dare you? Of course I have repented of my sin! I have lamented every day what I did with that woman!"

Mallory pushed herself up out of the chair and brought her face close to his. "Oh, truly now? You don't sometimes think of her when you make love to me?"

Jehan opened his mouth as if to argue, but forced it shut again and bit his lip hard.

"That's what I thought." Mallory turned her back on him.

"I try to banish the thoughts!" Jehan protested. "I pray every day that Lyr will let me forget... I don't want to lust for this woman anymore, but her black magic has seeped into my soul!"

Mallory refused to turn around, even as Jehan placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to turn her to face him. "You've allowed it to linger there. Had you truly repented your soul would have been free of her long ago."

"What more can I do?" Jehan shouted, now angry with her again. He paced the room, tearing at his hair with both hands. "Woman, you tell me what more I can do? I helped the witch hunters capture that sorceress! I testified at her trial and told the judge that the Empire would never be safe until she burned! And after that I slaughtered dozens of her followers! Damn it, woman! You tell me what more I can do to repent of this sin!"

"You were studying to become a clergyman, you figure it out," said Mallory, stepping further away from him.

Jehan grabbed her by both shoulders and forced her to face him. "Why must you be so damn cold! Look at me! I am your husband, damn it! I have cared for you, I've provided for you, I've worked hard to make a perfect home for our children. I have even endeavored to ensure that our daughters inherit more than I ever had!" Jehan shook her violently. "Don't you understand? All my dealings with Corbeau have all been for their future, for their well-being, far more than the future of the Empire or the Church!"

"Stop it!" Mallory struggled to get free of his vise-like grip. "You're hurting me!"

"Well, you're hurting me!" Jehan shouted and pushed her away. She staggered for a moment, but managed to stay on her feet. Jehan turned away from her and paced around the room. "How can you say I'm unrepentant? How can you say I'm a bad husband? How can you accuse me of all of that? My sin is great, but you have no right to tell me I'm not sorry for what I've done!"

"Jehan, you know as well as I do you haven't taken the necessary steps to repent!" Mallory shouted back.

"Oh, really?"

"A thief cannot keep what he has stolen and claim he has repented of theft!"

Both of them were silent for a moment. Jehan stared at her through tear-filled eyes. She stared back with teeth digging into her lip.

"What are you saying?" Jehan asked, finally breaking the silence.

"When we sin we cannot keep what we gained from that sin," said Mallory, resting a hand upon her pregnant belly. "We can't truly move on from our transgressions so long as we keep the rewards of sin in our lives. It's a curse, Jehan!"

Jehan choked on his own breath. "Mallory... please... don't ask me to do this..."

"Other than a night of passion, what was your reward?" Mallory asked. "A son. You have a son, Jehan. And so long as you have him there can never be a boy born of this womb."

"I... I can't..."

"He's witch born, Jehan," said Mallory. She walked over and took Jehan's hands in her own. "Look, I forgive you." Jehan sobbed at the sound of these words and fell to his knees before her. "I forgive you for what you did with Charlot. I understand that you were bewitched. Even if you weren't, I find it rare that men can resist the charms of beautiful women. But you cannot let this curse continue to control our lives. Demitri is a witch born, a demon born in human flesh. That means he deserves to die. Are you not the strongest supporter the Church has in its campaign to rid the Empire of his kind?"

"I am..."

Mallory nodded, still holding both of his hands as he knelt before her. "And how often would you say misguided compassion drives people to hide these abominations?"

"Nigh every fool who's ever tried to hide the witch born has done so for love's sake."

"Then set an example for everyone else!" Mallory touched his chin gently and raised his face up to look at hers. His face was still wet with tears. "You cannot expect everyone else to act wisely while you yourself act like a fool!"

"What must I do?" asked Jehan. He produced a handkerchief from his vest pocket and wiped his face with it. "If I turn him over to the Church they will know I hid him for so long. I will be arrested, and the girls will be disgraced! The Empress will take everything from our family!"

"Find another way to deal with the problem," said Mallory. "I don't care if you abandon him in the barbarian lands, send him off on a boat across the ocean, or whatever else you think has to be done. You cannot keep him as your son anymore. If it helps, think of it this way; his mother bewitched you into desiring her. Is it so hard to believe that he is bewitching you into loving him? Is he not, like most other witch-born, grotesque?"

"He is..." Jehan wiped his nose and chuckled. "Even as a baby he was uglier than you could imagine!"

"Then he's bewitching you," said Mallory. "If you're not disgusted every time you look at him then it must be the same black magic that brought you into Charlot's bed in the first place. Who knows what that unholy abomination will do next?"

Jehan nodded and rose to his feet. "Very well, my dear. I will do what needs to be done."