Chapter II: A Hidden Enemy
Alisa was pleased that so many had answered her call for new recruits, which she had launched a few days before. The Malatesta family was known for paying fair wages and this resulted in people willing to be employed by them. Over two dozen men hadpresented themselves, and the sergeants, Giuliano and Roberto, had lined them up on the training grounds for the new captain of the guard to examine them.
Alisa had agreed with Jacques that, afterwards, he would come to her to report his choices. She doubted that all men would pass his inspection, because they had to satisfy his requirements, which would include age, fitness, height, strength and whatever he thought appropriate. Then, they had to pass the training, and again, it was up to Jacques choosing a suitable schedule.
Waiting for him, Alisa busied herself with housekeeping tasks. The head of the kitchen, Franco, who was in the Malatesta's service since her childhood, had come to her with the list of the provisions for her to approve.
"How is it that we need flour?" she asked, surprised. "I thought we had acquired enough last month."
"Unfortunately, they sold us old flour that has gone bad", Franco answered. "Yestereve Paolo noticed that the last sack he had opened smelled musty."
Paolo was the castle baker and Franco's son.
"Did you inspect them all?" Alisa asked.
"Aye, and seven sacks are bad."
Alisa frowned. The miller wouldn't get away with this. "You will return those sacks", she instructed Franco, "and have double as much new ones from the latest grind. Giorgio isn't new to these tricks, but tell him that this will be the last one, or I will throw him out with his family. They can then go back home to their mountain village and starve. 'Tis only for my father's generosity that he was entrusted with the mill, but I won't tolerate any fraud."
"Aye, my lady", Franco nodded, unsurprised by Alisa's reaction: she was a fair and charitable person, but didn't forgive any foul play.
This settled, Alisa continued checking the list and added a couple of items, then Franco took his leave.
OOO
Wearing his stark brand-new black tunic with the Malatesta emblem and the captain's insignia, Jacques Le Gris stood at the edge of the training grounds, his eyes narrowed as he observed the line of recruits assembled before him. The men varied in age, size, and demeanour, but all shared the same expression of determination, eager to prove theirworth. Jacques knew that the Malatesta name carried weight, and the promise of fair wages had drawn these men here, but only the best would be chosen to defend this fief and its formidable countess.
He had discussed his plan with Lady Alisa beforehand, and now it was time to put it into action. Jacques began by assessing the men's physical condition, walking slowly down the line, his keen eyes noting every detail. He looked for signs of fitness: broad shoulders, strong arms, and a stance that indicated readiness. But physical strength alone was not enough; discipline and mental fortitude would be equally important.
"Sergeant Giuliano," Jacques called out, his voice carrying across the yard, "begin the trials."
Giuliano nodded and barked orders to the recruits. The first test was simple but telling: a run around the perimeter of the castle grounds. The distance was significant, designed to test endurance. As the men took off, Jacques watched closely, noting who paced themselves wisely and who expended their energy too quickly. It was a brutal run, especially under the late summer sun, but it was necessary. By the time the last man crossed the finish line, several were already disqualified for lack of stamina.
Next came the test of riding. Horses were brought out, and each recruit was instructed to mount and demonstrate their riding skills. Jacques watched as they rode in circles, jumped obstacles, and manoeuvred through tight turns. Riding was crucial; a guard needed to be able to pursue attackers swiftly or retreat strategically if needed. A few men showed natural skill, handling their mounts with ease, while others struggled, losing control or failing to keep pace. Those who could not manage the horses were dismissed immediately, as Jacques knew that proficiency in riding could mean the difference between life and death in battle.
With the weaker riders weeded out, the remaining men faced the combat trials. Jacques had them spar with one another, using wooden swords and shields. He observed their technique, how they handled the weapons, and how they reacted under pressure. It was clear that some had seen battle before, their movements precise and calculated, while others were green, their inexperience evident in every swing. Jacques didn't just look for brute strength but also for intelligence – how a man adapted his strategy, how he read his opponent, and how he kept his composure.
After the swordplay, the men moved on to hand-to-hand combat. This was where Jacques himself stepped in. He faced each recruit one by one, testing their reflexes, their ability to grapple, and their endurance in close quarters. It was a gruelling test, and by the end, several men were nursing bruises and cuts. Jacques was not gentle, but he was fair. He needed to see who could hold their own in a fight, who could take a hit and still get back up, who could think on their feet when a weapon was not within reach.
The final test was one of teamwork. Jacques divided the men into small groups and had them perform mock drills, defending a position and attacking in formation. This was perhaps the most important test of all. A good soldier knew how to fight alone, but a great one knew how to work with his comrades, to follow orders, and to trust in the man beside him. Jacques watched carefully, identifying those who could lead and those who could follow, those who understood the importance of unity in the face of danger.
Hours passed, the sun beginning to sink low in the sky, by the time the tests were complete. The men were exhausted, sweat dripping from their brows, but Jacques had seen what he needed to see. Of the two dozen who had started, only ten remained. These were the men who had proven themselves – strong, skilled, disciplined, and capable of working together as a unit.
Satisfied with the day's work, Jacques called an end to the trials. He ordered the chosen recruits to gather their belongings and prepare to begin training under his command, while the others were dismissed with a word of thanks for their effort. He would not waste time on those who were not up to the task; Valdastico needed the best, and he would settle for nothing less.
Once the recruits had dispersed, Jacques made his way to Lady Alisa's chambers. He found her still at her desk, reviewing documents with a thoughtful expression.
She looked up as he entered, a faint smile crossing her lips. "Captain", she greeted him, setting aside her papers. "I trust the trials went well?"
Jacques nodded, bowing slightly before beginning his report. "My lady, the trials have been completed, and I have selected ten men who meet the standards required to serve in your guard. The others, I'm afraid, were not up to the task, either lacking in physical endurance, skill with weapons, or the ability to work as a team."
He continued, detailing his reasons for each selection, describing the strengths and potential of the men he had chosen.
Alisa listened intently, her eyes never leaving his as he spoke. When he finished, she nodded in approval. "You have done well, Sir Jacques", she said, her tone one of genuine satisfaction. "These men will be the backbone of our defence, and I trust you to mould them into a force that will protect this fief and its people."
Jacques inclined his head, feeling a deep sense of pride in her words. "I will begin their training immediately, my lady. We will work tirelessly to ensure we are prepared for whatever threats may come."
"Excellent, Sir Jacques", Alisa approved. "The armoury is at your disposal to fully equip the new recruits. If there's shortage of something, just instruct Luca and Bortolo, our smiths, about what you need. Luca specialises in blades of every kind, fromsmall knives to large halberds, while Bortolo manufactures excellent chainmail, cuirasses, shields and other protective gear."
A bell tolled, signalling dinner was about to be served. "Time for the evening meal", Alisa smiled, rising. "Shall we go?"
It was the first time that Jacques saw her smiling fully, and he felt dazzled. She was a true beauty, he thought, wondering how it was possible that such an attractive, smart and wealthy woman wasn't married yet. Hadn't she suitors? Maybe she was in love with someone she couldn't have? Or had she dismissed all the wooers in favour of her independency? Based on what he had learned about her so far and on his impression of her, this would be the most likely reason. But then, who would inherit the fief, after her passing? He couldn't ask it bluntly, it would be rude, and after all, it was none of his business. Hence, he settled to keep his musings for himself.
"Gladly, Countess", he said instead, standing in turn and slightly bowing to her.
They walked downstairs together, and a few minutes later, they seated themselves at the high table in the great hall, joined by all the higher ranked people of the household, including Roberto and Giuliano with their families. As dinner was the main meal of the day, they had plenty of food and drink; Jacques was frugal with his wine though, as he planned to get up very early to start with the training of both recruits and veterans.
Again, the countess and the knight conversed amiably, although not in a familiar way, quite at ease with one another. Unlike the previous day, Jacques stayed a while after the meal was over, to enjoy the evening entertainment. This time it was a juggler who amazed them with his skills with balls, batons and even jars.
Very satisfied with the day's outcome, Jacques then excused himself and bade Alisa good night, and retired for the night. He made his way back to his quarters, the events of the day playing through his mind. The warmth of the evening meal, the camaraderie among the household, and the easy conversation with Lady Alisa had all contributed to a sense of belongingthat he hadn't felt in a long time. He had come to Valdastico seeking refuge and purpose, and it seemed he was finding both, though not without the challenges that lay ahead.
As he entered his chamber, Jacques allowed himself a moment to reflect on the countess. Her smile, so rare and yet so captivating, lingered in his thoughts. He had seen many beautiful women in his life, but there was something about Alisa that was different. It wasn't just her beauty; it was her strength, her intelligence, and the quiet power she wielded so effortlessly. She was a woman who commanded respect, and Jacques found himself admiring her more with each passing day.
But admiration was all it could be. He was here to serve, to protect, and to rebuild his life, not to entangle himself in matters of the heart. He reminded himself of his purpose and the promises he had made to her and to himself. With that thought firmly in mind, Jacques prepared for bed, knowing that the next day would be gruelling, with the start of the recruits' training.
OOO
The following morning, Jacques awoke before dawn, the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of sunrise. He dressed quickly, donning the simple yet functional attire of a soldier, and made his way to the training grounds. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew-covered grass and the promise of a new day.
When he arrived, he found that the recruits were already assembling, their faces showing a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Jacques wasted no time, immediately setting them to work with a series of warm-up exercises designed to test their endurance and build their strength. The men, though tired from the previous day's trials, pushed themselves hard, eager to prove their worth.
As the sun rose higher, Jacques put them through a rigorous regimen of drills: swordplay, hand-to-hand combat, and formation exercises. He moved among them, offering corrections, encouragement, and occasionally, stern rebukes when someone's effort fell short. The recruits responded well, their determination evident, and Jacques found himself feeling a growing sense of pride in their progress.
By mid-morning, the training had settled into a rhythm, and Jacques was deep in thought about the next phase when he noticed a commotion at the edge of the training grounds. He turned to see Lady Alisaapproaching, dressed not in her usual elegant attire, but in a more practical outfit: riding breeches, a simple tunic, and high boots. Jacques raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this unexpected sight.
"Good morning, my lady," he greeted her, bowing slightly. "I must admit, I did not expect to see you here so early, and in such attire."
Alisa had to give credit to Jacques for his much more bland reaction than the one she had expected to her very unladylike attire, which was well known to her subjects and armigers, and even to her neighbours, but of course, not to him.
"Good morning to you, Sir Jacques", she answered, elegantly bending her head at his polite bow. "I would have been here atsunrise with the soldiers, if an urgent matter hadn't delayed me. Because of the hot weather, I prefer training in the early hours, but today I will have to adapt."
"Training, my lady?" repeated Jacques, this time clearly surprised.
Roberto, who had run off the moment he had spotted the countess, had come back and heard the last words between the two. "Lady Alisa is an accomplished archer", he explained to Jacques, handing her an unstrung bow of noticeable size, as well as a quiver full of arrows. "She's the best in the entire area", he added with evident pride in his voice.
Alisa took the items, thanking him with a nod, and shouldered the quiver. "I see the training is in full swing", she observed, turning to Jacques. "I don't want to disrupt any schedule you have arranged, Sir Jacques, but I'm sure archery is included. We could do it now, if you agree, otherwise I will train alone, for once."
"Actually, I was thinking about what else I could have the men do", Jacques said, jumping at the chance.
"Very well then", Alisa nodded, pleased. "Roberto, have the men gathering on the archery ground and the quartermaster fetching the equipment."
Leading the way, Alisa walked with Jacques to the appointed place just out of the castle's walls, where several straw targets were always ready. Roberto and Giuliano instructed the recruits to form rows in front of each target, while the veterans did it on their own initiative. The latter were equipped with their personal bows, whereas the recruits received training bows from the quartermaster.
"Are you familiar with archery, Sir Jacques?" Alisa asked.
"Only the basics, as any warrior", he answered. "Not enough to be called very good, as the sword and the pike are my favourite weapons", he added.
Alisa nodded: she had expected it, as Jacques was a knight and had been trained as such. "If you fancy to get better acquainted with this art, I will gladly be your tutor", she offered spontaneously.
Before Jacques could answer, Giuliano signalled they were ready; hence, Alisa excused herself and walked to the start of the mid row, in order that everybody could see her. Turning, she addressed the newcomers. "I am Lady Alisa," she said in a loud enough voice as to be heard by all. "Welcome to Malatesta Castle. For those who are not from Valdastico, I hope you will feel soon at home. Thank you everyone for joining my guard, and thank you in advance for your service."
A friendly murmur came from the soldiers, favourably impressed by their new employer's simple but effective speech, and several returning thanks were heard among them.
"Our countess is an outstanding archer", Giuliano announced. "She will be your model, and the one to try and match. I won't say the one to surpass", he added with a knowing smirk, "because in all my years of service here, and they are many, no one has ever been able to do it. However, should someone succeed, Lady Alisa has set a prize of 10 ducats."
An excited buzz went through the men, as it was a big sum for them.
Wasting no more time, Alisa expertly strung her bow, then took an arrow from her quiver and, with a fluid movement, notched it to the string. She suddenly sank onto one knee and shot seemingly without even aiming. The arrow landed onto the target's bull-eye with a thud.
A loud gasp escaped many a throat, included Jacques': he had rarely seen such a level of skill, not to speak applied to a woman.
The Frenchman watched Lady Alisa with unwavering focus, his admiration deepening with each flawless shot she made. Her movements were a perfect blend of grace and power, honed through years of relentless practice. Every arrow she released found its markeffortlessly, a testament to her unparalleled skill. But it wasn't just her ability that captivated him; it was the confidence and poise with which she carried herself. She wasn't merely proficient: she was a true master of the bow. Jacques felt a profound respect for her growing within him.
As her final arrow struck dead centre, Alisa calmly walked back to her new captain's side, her expression serene, though a subtle, but very justifiable satisfaction glimmered in her eyes.
Jacques waited until she was close before leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper meant only for her. "Your skill is extraordinary, my lady," he began, his tone laced with genuine admiration. "Yet, as much as I appreciate it, I must decline your gracious offer to be my tutor."
Alisa looked up at him, as if about to respond, but no words came. She didn't look upset nor puzzled, but her facial expression invited him to elaborate.
Jacques met her gaze, his own steady and unyielding. After a moment, he added thoughtfully, "I wouldn't want to risk the temptation of besting you and claiming those 10 ducats."
Her eyebrows rose, not in surprise but in mock disbelief. She was clearly amused, but still, she didn't speak.
A subtle tension hung in the air between them, a shift Jacques noticed immediately. He held her gaze a moment longer before speaking again. "Please don't misunderstand me, my lady," he murmured, his tone sincere as he took a step closer. "I don't think it would be easy, nor do I underestimate your abilities. Quite the opposite – I know you'd be an exceptional tutor, and I couldn't ask for a better one. But you must understand," his voice lowered, rich with intensity, "I am never content with being second best in anything I pursue. So, I believe 'tis best to focus on the skills I have mastered and trust that they will be enough to meet your expectations of me in fulfilling my duties. However, if you insist I learn the art of archery, rest assured, I will not rest until I am your equal, if not your better. And when that day comes, it will not be a defeat for you, but a testament to the excellence of your teaching."
His refusal – given in a gracious, respectful way she appreciated – didn't surprise Alisa much: he was already a fine fighter, knowing very well his way around with a sword and a pike, as it was customary for a knight who had been in several battles. He had stated his willingness to go on with it, should she insist; but she believed the skills he already was excellent into were more than enough to meet her expectations, as he had modestly put it. She smirked: the mixture he showed of bravado and humbleness was quite appealing. She had to admit that she liked him.
"I would like to see you try", she teased him playfully, eliciting a grin from him, then she sobered. "My tutor said the very same thing, the day it was clear I had outmatched him: when the apprentice surpasses their mentor, 'tis to the mentor's credit." She waved her hand, dismissing the topic. "But of course, I am aware that you are already an accomplished warrior. There's no need for you to get into archery too."
Jacques inclined his head in a respectful bow. "Always at your service, my lady."
He then turned his attention back to the recruits. The men were still buzzing with excitement from Alisa's display, but Jacques knew it was time to refocus them on their training. However, before that he wanted to do something else.
He turned to Alisa. "As the men are busy with the archery training, I will go for a ride around Valdastico", he told her. "Both to keep watch and to get more familiar with the surroundings."
"Very well", she said, nodding in understanding. "Roberto and Giuliano can take care of the men until you're back."
Jacques bowed to take his leave and stepped away, heading toward the field where Vaillant was tethered. Getting on him with practiced ease, Jacques took a moment to survey the training grounds. The recruits stood ready, their eyes full of anticipation. He had made his point to Lady Alisa, but now it was time to demonstrate to these men that their new captain was as determined to lead by example as he was to prove himself.
As he urged his horse forward, he murmured to himself, "This is only the beginning."
Alisa watched Jacques leave, pleased that he was clearly taking his duties very seriously. She needed someone she could count on, and he seemed exactly that.
Returning to the present moment, Alisa turned and addressed the new troops again. "My display isn't meant as a mere brag, but to demonstrate the effectiveness of archery in combat and possibly encourage you to learn this fine art. 'Tis mandatory for everyone attending archery classes as to learn at least the basics; for those who will show to be especially inclined for it, there will be more classes. Now I leave you in the capable hands of Sergeant Roberto, who is our archery instructor."
With that, the countess left and returned to her duties as the lady of the fief for the rest of the day.
When the bell chimed, calling for the evening meal, Alisa headed for the great hall as usual; there, she found Jacques, standing next to the high table waiting for her. He gave her a slight bow and very courteously pulled the chair for her. With a smile, she thanked him and took her place at the table.
"How was your day, Sir Jacques?" Alisa asked him as soon as he had seated himself.
"Satisfying enough, my lady", he answered in a pleased tone. "The new recruits show promise, being keen to learn. Some even seem to have a true bent for the job."
"Excellent news", the countess commented.
"And how was your day, my lady?"
"Oh, not even half so exciting as yours..."
Once more, they chatted with ease while enjoying the fine food and drink.
OOO
Several days passed. Jacques trained the troops hard, ever pushing them to the limit but never sparing words of encouragement and praise whenever deserved, soon earning a reputation of being stern but fair, and thus the men's respect and trust. With every passing day, Alisa was increasingly happy with her decision to take him in as her new captain of the guard. He was proving his skill even on his other task, keeping the fief's accounts, hence Alisa was very satisfied.
One day, when they had just finished their midday meal, they were preparing to leave the great hall in order to go back to their tasks. A dark-haired man in his mid-forties, carrying a lute and sporting the colourful attire of a storyteller, came in and bowed deeply to Alisa.
Recognising him, the countess smiled. "'Tis good to see you after all this time, Puccio! What news do you bring to Valdastico?"
To Jacques' surprise, the man didn't smile back. Very unusually for a bard, he bore instead a worried expression. "Unsettling news, I'm afraid, Countess Alisa", he said quietly. "I need to talk to you privately."
Alisa sobered instantly, frowning with concern, and rose. "Let's go to my work chamber", she then said to Puccio. Turning to the French knight, she added, "Sir Jacques, please come with us."
Her deadly serious tone worried Jacques much more than the alleged storyteller. He quickly rose from his seat and followed closely behind Alisa as she led the way to her work chamber, his senses on high alert. The storyteller's sombre tone and the countess' immediate reaction had set him on edge. It was clear that whatever news Puccio carried was notto be taken lightly, and Jacques' instincts as a knight and protector kicked in, ready to confront any threat to Valdastico or its people.
Alisa took her usual seat behind the large oak desk, her expression now serious and focused, while Puccio remained standing, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. Jacques positioned himself near the door, propped against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, as a silent sentinel, his eyes never leaving the storyteller.
"Speak, Puccio," Alisa urged, her voice calm but with an underlying current of stress. "What news do you bring?"
Puccio hesitated for a brief moment, his gaze flickering between Alisa and Jacques, before he finally spoke. "Countess, the rumours in the region are troubling. I have heard from reliable sources that the attack on your caravan – the one you thought was led by soldiers from Padua or Verona and that cost the life of so many of our men – was not their doing at all."
Alisa's frown deepened, her eyes narrowing. "If not them, then who?"
Puccio glanced again at Jacques, then back to Alisa. "'Twas Iacopo Bembo, my lady. He's the one who orchestrated the attack."
At the mention of the name, Jacques saw Alisa's expression harden, a flicker of something dark and resolute crossing her features. But for Jacques, the name held no meaning. He had been in Valdastico for only a short time, and though he had quickly familiarised himself with the local terrain and people, this name was new to him.
Jacques turned to Alisa, his voice low but firm. "Who is Iacopo Bembo, my lady?"
Alisa turned to Jacques. His question had been natural, as he couldn't know who this man was and needed to as to do his job, but his tone, under the apparent coolness, had been surprisingly fierce. Was it lust for battle, or protectiveness? Despite hisprowess as a fighter, he hadn't struck her as bloodthirsty, on the contrary, so she settled for the latter. Perhaps this meant that he already felt at home in Valdastico, thus ready to defend it ferociously; if so, she was very glad about it.
These thoughts took only seconds to cross her mind before Alisa answered: "Iacopo Bembo is the Count of Asolo, a town about three hours ride from here."
Her voice dripped with contempt as she almost spitted on the man's name. "He's a brutal and cruel man, a warmonger and a raper. Three years ago, his wife died in an accident – drowned in a small river near Asolo – but many suspect he has devised her death because in ten years of marriage, she had been unable to provide him with an heir. When my father passed, two years ago, Bembo immediately proposed me, but I wouldn't have him for anything in the world. Besides, his fief is almost bankrupt and he would only exploit all of Valdastico's wealth to rebuild his fortune. As according to the Republic's laws I am under no obligation to take a husband, I refused categorically. If I'll die without an heir, the Doge and the Great Council will simply appoint Valdastico to the nearest male relative, or to an entirely new noble Venetian family, or even offer it to a foreign family for alliance."
Alisa shrugged and shook her head as to dismiss the topic. "But that's another matter. Puccio, is this information reliable?"
The bard nodded. "I'm afraid so, Countess. The source is your cousin Francesco, the Bishop of Asolo himself."
Alisa leaned back into her armchair, visibly shaken. She might be strong and fearless, but she wasn't naive. "He has his spies in Bembo's castle", she muttered. "Hence his intelligence is indeed trustworthy." Her eyes narrowed. "Seems that, as he cannot sweet-talk me into marrying him, Bembo has switched to heavy tactics, trying to frighten me by disrupting my trade."
Alisa looked at Jacques, her eyes burning with determination. "What do you say, Captain Le Gris? Are we going to tolerate this?"
Jacques' response was immediate and resolute. His voice, firm and confident, cut through the tension in the room like a blade as he pushed himself away from the wall and uncrossed his arms, his hands clenched to fists. "There is no way between heaven and earth that we will tolerate this, my lady. This Bembo will not get what he wants throughforce or fear, not while I am here to defend Valdastico."
His words carried the weight of an unwavering promise, one that Jacques intended to uphold at all costs. He could see the flicker of approval in Alisa's eyes, a silent acknowledgment that she had chosen well in appointing him as her captain. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jacques' mind quickly shifted gears, focusing on the immediate actions required. "My lady," he continued, his tone as sharp as the steel he carried, "I'll need detailed maps of the region, especially those that show Asolo, its surroundings, and the key routes between our lands. I also need to understand the full extent of Bembo's military force. How many men can he muster? What are the defences like at his castle?"
Alisa nodded, recognising the urgency in his voice. Without missing a beat, she gestured to Puccio, who quickly moved to a cabinet against the near wall, retrieving a series of rolled-up maps.
"We have detailed maps of the entire region," Alisa explained as she spread them out on the table. "As for Bembo's forces, he maintains a standing militia of around fifty men-at-arms, though he may bolster his numbers with mercenaries. His castle at Asolo is fortified, but not impregnable."
Jacques leaned over the maps, his eyes scanning every inch of the terrain. He traced the routes between Valdastico and Asolo with a practiced hand, noting potential chokepoints, ambush sites, and strategic advantages. His mind worked swiftly, piecing together a defence plan that would counter any aggression from Bembo.
Jacques' prompt, concrete response to her rhetorical question had pleased Alisa very much. He showed prowess, acumen and practical sense; she knew now for sure that she couldn't have made a better choice as hiring Jacques Le Gris to be her captain of theguard.
She assisted him in every way she could, answering his highly pertinent questions and sharing every bit of information she had about Bembo's militia and defences, offering insights into the local geography and the Count of Asolo's latest known movements. Before long, Alisa had the reassuring feeling that Jacques had everything under control, or would soon.
With the immediate tactical decisions made, Jacques felt a sense of determination settle over him. The path forward was clear: they would fortify Valdastico's defences and make it unmistakably clear that any further incursions would be met with swift and decisive force. Bembo would not be allowed to terrorise them into submission.
OOO
Later, after the maps had been carefully put away and their plans laid out, Jacques found himself alone in his quarters. The events of the day replayed in his mind, but amid the strategies and logistics, his thoughts kept drifting back to what Alisa had said earlier about marriage. He couldn't help but wonder: was her rejection of Bembo solely because of his despicable nature, or was it a rejection of the idea of marriage itself? Alisa was a woman who clearly valued her independence, a rare and precious thing for someone in her position. Did she intend to remain unmarried to preserve that freedom?
The question gnawed at him, though he tried to push it aside. Why should it matter to him? It wasn't his place to pry into such personal matters, and yet, the thought lingered. Was his curiosity driven by simple, sincere friendship? Or was there something more behind his interest? Jacques wasn't entirely sure, and that uncertainty unsettled him.
As evening fell, Jacques joined Alisa to dine together as it was customary. It was pleasant, the food as tasty as ever and their conversation bearing the usual ease and lightness, although both were acutely aware of the trouble that lay before them; but beneath all this, that same question simmered in the back of Jacques' mind. As they spoke, he observed her with a newfound awareness, noting the ease with which she carried herself, the strength in her words, and the unspoken resolve that underpinned everything she did.
When a natural pause in the conversation came, Jacques took a quiet breath, deciding to ask, perhaps out of friendship, perhaps out of something more. "My lady," he began, his tone careful, "earlier today, you mentioned how the laws of the Republic allow you to remain independent, without the need for marriage. 'Tis clear that Bembo's proposal was out of the question, but... if I may ask, do you intend to stay independent indefinitely? Or is it just that particular suitor who is unwelcome?"
Alisa looked at him closely. The question was personal, but his tone and expression made it clear that he wasn't prying, just asking with genuine interest and a touch of natural curiosity, hence she didn't feel offended or uneasy. She didn't answer straightaway though; her gaze became distant as she briefly lost herself in memories from the past, memories that weren't entirely happy from the feelings that transpired on her face.
Just when Jacques was about to open his mouth and apologise for his question, afraid that Alisa could perhaps have misinterpreted his intentions, she started to speak. "I was betrothed once", came her answer, uttered in a very soft tone, for his ears only. "I was sixteen, and he was the third son of the Count of Noale. His name was Riccardo Falier, and he was three years my senior. My parents had been fostering him for five years, as 'tis custom between friendly families to entrust their male children to one another. We had fallen in love, and when Riccardo asked for my hand, my father was very glad, as Riccardo was both a valiant knight and a remarkable administrator, so there was no one my father could be happier to leave Valdastico after his passing. Riccardo and I were supposed to get married after six months, but..."
Alisa's voice trailed off and sighed at an obviously saddening memory.
Jacques's heart flew out to her. "You don't need to add any more, if 'tis too hard for you, my lady", he said sympathetically. "I understand."
Alisa gave him a pale smile. "Thank you, Jacques", she said, dropping the courtesy title to make him aware she was speaking to a friend, not to an employee. "Talking about Riccardo makes me still sad, indeed, but I stopped mourning for him years ago. I'm sad for his lost young life, for all the things he could have achieved, his dreams turned to dust. He died in a battle defending the Republic's Istrian lands from the Hapsburg's invasion. Ever since, I have never been interested in a man again, even less in taking one as a husband."
Alisa paused and took a sip from her goblet, as if needing a moment by herself.
Jacques studied her for a long minute, his gaze thoughtful as he absorbed her words. She had revealed something deeply personal, and he could glimpse the vulnerability beneath her calm exterior. It was a side of her he hadn't seen before, and it made himrespect her all the more.
Alisa turned to Jacques again and gave him a wider smile as her melancholy faded. "Honestly, I'm not utterly against marriage, and should I meet an honourable man capable of making me fall for him, willing to respect my independence and be my equal, not my master, I could consider it, aye", she declared, her tone lighter. "And what about you, Jacques?" she then asked, in the same non-intrusive way he had used with her. "Will you ever consider marriage? Or do you think 'tis not for you?"
Jacques turned his gaze away, overlooking the flickering candlelight and the soft hum of conversation around them, allowing himself a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. "I must admit, my lady," he began, his voice steady but reflective, "that I have never given much thought to marriage. As a knight, I have seen too many battles, faced too many near deaths, to seriously consider building a family. The idea of leaving someone behind – someone who would be dependent on me – has always been daunting." He paused, his mind drifting back to his childhood, to the memory of his mother. "I remember my mother, how she would always worry whenever my father went off to war. She tried to hide it, but I could see the fear in her eyes, feel it in the way she would pace the floors, waiting for news. My parents' was an arranged marriage, more about alliances than love, but even so, she knew that if he didn't return, we'd be left with nothing. The thought of her waiting, day after day, not knowing if he would come home, always weighed heavily on me."
Jacques glanced back at Alisa, his expression tinged with a quiet sadness. The sympathy he saw in her eyes encouraged him to continue, sure she would understand. "I suppose that's part of why I have never seriously considered marriage. The idea of having a wife who would be waiting for my return, in constant fear about being left alone, of children who might grow up without a father... 'tis not something I think I could bear. And with the life I lead, it feels almost inevitable that such a fate would befall them. Besides," he added, his tone softening, "I have always wanted a marriage based on love, not convenience or benefit. But in my position, I have come to believe that such a thing might be unlikely."
He took a sip of his wine, his gaze turning away again, as if lost in the swirl of thoughts that accompanied such reflections. The truth was, he had long accepted that his life might be one of solitary service, his legacy carried out on the battlefield rather than within the walls of a home.
Alisa had watched him closely as he spoke, her eyes soft. Her esteem for him grew with every word he uttered, as he was revealing what a selfless man he actually was.
"There aren't many independent women," Jacques murmured after a moment, continuing his musings, "who could fend for themselves if their husbands were to fall. And I think that too is part of why I have avoided the idea. The thought of leaving someone helpless, or reliant on other, is not something I could live with."
He smiled then, a small, somewhat bittersweet expression that didn't quite reach his eyes. He didn't want to dampen the mood or linger on such a sombre topic. Turning back to Alisa, he met her gaze again, his tone lightening as he tried to steer the conversation away from these heavier thoughts. "Never mind. If there's one thing I have learned," he continued, his voice now steady and warm, "'tis that a solid, trustful friendship is something to be valued above all. 'Tis something I have been blessed with once before, and I hold on to the hope that I might find it again."
His words carried a depth of meaning, the kind that came from experience and a life spent in the service of others. Jacques knew that the bonds forged in friendship could be just as strong, if not stronger, than those formed in marriage. They were built on mutual respect, trust, and a shared understanding of the world's harsh realities. Jacques couldn't help but think back to the time when he and Jean de Carrouges had had this kind of friendship. He knew that, from his side, it had been genuine. He actually still cared about Jean, despite everything.
Jacques snapped off his thoughts and offered Alisa a small, genuine smile, the kind that spoke of shared burdens and the comfort of knowing there was someone else who understood. "In times like these, mayhap that's what matters most," he said softly. "The certainty that, no matter what happens, there's someone you can rely on, someone who will stand by your side. That's something I value deeply, and something I believe we both do."
Jacques took a final sip of his wine, feeling a sense of calm settle over him. The future was uncertain, but in that moment, he found solace in the bond they were building, a bond that could withstand the trials to come.
Alisa leant on the backrest of her chair, thoughtful. She appreciated greatly Jacques' disclosure to his thoughts and feelings about a delicate matter, baring to her a piece of his heart and soul. This had been no casual conversation: they had shared very personal topics, feeling perfectly safearound one another like only friends – true friends – could feel. The notion left Alisa a bit surprised, as she hadn't expected making close friends with Jacques Le Gris, let alone in such a short time; but it was a pleasant surprise.
Once again, they had entertainment after dinner – Puccio actually being a talented storyteller – and then, they retired for the night.
OOO
A few days later, Alisa sent for Jacques, who was once again on the training ground, showing the troops some new moves to improve their skills as swordsmen.
"I need to go to Aquileia", she informed him. "It would be a two days ride, but as we will have a wagon full of barrels with us, we will need double as much. We will take a detour as to avoid proximity to Asolo, but unfortunately, it won't be as far away as I would like."
"I will arrange a proper escort", Jacques declared.
"Excellent", Alisa commented. "'Tis a business trip, but Aquileia is a beautiful town and offers comfortable accommodations. The Patriarch of Aquileia is a Frenchman like you: his name is Philippe of Alençon. I asked him for a meeting to offer him my Prosecco, and I just received his positive answer. That's the reason for transporting there those barrels."
Jacques nodded. "How long do I have to organise the escort?" he enquired.
"I would like to leave tomorrow at dawn. Is it enough time for you?"
"Aye, it is", he confirmed, then took his leave to start the necessary arrangements.
This would be his first chance to fully prove his worthiness as Valdastico's captain of the guards, and Countess Alisa's right-hand man. And he fully intended to succeed.