. . . As soon as he was able to do so, the man known as Mickael or Péale took Christophe from his father. Wry amusement gleamed in Mickael’s eyes. “You’ve always had quite a way with words. But you better watch that colorful vocabulary of yours or you’ll never survive to see the next decade come. Not to mention, courtesy is also next to mercy.”

“Where we are?” A single stern look of warning Thomas shot from across the room prevented his son from saying more than those three forced words.

Mickael leaned his elbow against the wall, still looking every inch of a gentleman. “Technically you are in Belgium, but in the area of ​​land that many Germanic princes have claimed.”

“In shorts . . .”

“Disputed territory,” concluded the handsome young Prussian for Christophe.

“I guess,” the boy grumbled and then fell into a stubborn silence. “dankaChristophe belatedly remembered his manners, this time in German, and a moment later asked to be excused so he could rest as the weight of exhaustion suddenly crushed him. The young man nodded and watched as the young man curled up and quickly fell into a deep sleep. What had possessed Thomas to continually take his only child with him on such dangerous missions? Of course they were Michael’s friends, and he owed them his life, but…

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Thomas raised his hand and gestured for his son to come closer. His pursuers had to be dangerously close, was the thought he didn’t express. This time, Thomas was well prepared for a battle. No son of his was going to be more late than the day he had already spent here.

Christophe walked over to the bed where his father was leaning. The Marquis already seemed much improved, but it would take a few days for him to regain adequate strength. Thomas gestured again for his son and his heir to come even closer to provide some privacy. Reluctantly, the boy obeyed.

“You’re going with Peter,” Thomas said firmly. Christophe looked nothing short of a mutineer. Thomas snapped: “no my little, you will go with Peter, immediately, to the heart of Belgium and then you will return to France. Enough. You will listen! I will not be responsible for your death, and I will not allow your uncle or cousin to rule my lands as your guardian or in any other capacity. Do not bring that fate to our family, especially not after all my efforts to avoid that outcome.”

Another protest was interrupted by Thomas’ determined look. “I repeat, if nothing younger, do not stoop to dishonoring your family name and heritage. Now were you saying?”

“Dad,” Christophe insisted quietly. “I don’t mean to dishonor myself, and I’ve grown up with this lifestyle. I won’t die if I stay to help you. And I can help you get out of here. I beg you.”

“A lifestyle I should never have brought you into,” Thomas barked. “Hush! I haven’t done you any favors by raising you this way. You will always be too wild and headstrong for proper society. I should have trained you properly, but since I can’t change that, at least I’ll make sure you survive this mission.” “And that my possessions have a suitable heir. Also, they are looking for a man matching my description who is on the run with a child. If we split up, we can disguise ourselves better and increase the chances of both of us escaping. .You will be Go away or I will see to it that the marriage that was arranged for you years ago takes place.”

Christophe was abruptly silent again. How could he, having promised that his son could choose his own wife! But he had no doubt of the seriousness of the marquis’s words. Check and match. He would go, and God forbid anything happen to his father. Christophe stood up mechanically and was about to go to Peter when his father touched the boy’s hand.

In Thomas’s hands was a collection of papers. “Take them,” Thomas told his son. “Whatever is found in me will doom me, and I have every intention of returning to you alive and well. Keep an eye on my property until I return.” Christophe knew that his father was referring to Langeac, as it had always been the most prized of his father’s estates, at least to Thomas, regardless of its humble size compared to his numerous other estates. .

Without a word, the boy grabbed the papers so deftly that neither the man better known as Erik nor Peter saw the exchange. Quickly, anger at being forced still simmering, Christophe gathered up her belongings and bundled up tightly against the cold before joining Peter. The couple was about to leave when Christophe ran up to her father and hugged him proudly before returning just as quickly to the door.

Dry-eyed, Christophe followed Peter to the door, and as he passed, Erik said, “Fear not, Qiara, I’ll do what I must and your father will be safe. I give you my word.”

The young Prussian watched as Peter and his protégé headed for the safety of Belgium. At least the boy would be out of danger, he concluded and turned to Thomas.

Damn intrigue! He wasn’t very good at it, but he had given his word that he would see to it that Christophe’s father escaped safely. Of course, if Christophe knew the half. . . . It was best to deal with that obstacle when he or Thomas ran into it. They would certainly never hear the end of this, if they made it out of this quagmire alive. . . .

Kat Jaske http://www.forhonor.com © 2006