CHATELAINE OF FOREZ
Curse of the Lost Isle Book 5
by Vijaya Schartz
Afflicted by the ondine curse, Melusine seeks the soul of her lost
beloved in the young Artaud of Forez, who reigns over the verdant hills
south of Burgundy, on the road of pilgrims, troubadours and merchants.
But this dark and brooding Pagan lord is not at all what she expected or
even hoped. He knows nothing of their past love, her Fae nature, or her
secret curse. Must Melusine seduce and betroth this cold stranger to
satisfy the Goddess and redeem her curse?
The gold in the rivers instills greed in the powerful, and many envy
the rich Lord of Forez, including his most trusted vassals... even the
Bishop of Lyon. When Artaud’s attraction to Melusine makes them the
target of a holy hunt, will she find redemption from the curse, or will
they burn at the stake?
"magic religious battles and epic love... fast paced, with many scenic
changes and villains to despise. The battle between good and evil is
front and center in this pit stop on a fantastic journey that spans
centuries!" - InD'Tale Magazine
EXCERPT
March 1028 AD - Forez (now in central France)
Melusine stopped singing and shuddered in the cool water. Someone was
coming. Fast approaching hooves trampled the underbrush. She straightened and
gripped the well worn sides of the rectangular stone basin. Birds and insects
had ceased their chirping. Through the trees, a single horseman on a black
stallion galloped up the forested path to the sacred spring where she bathed.
How had he crossed the magic barrier she'd erected down the hill? Could he
be an immortal like her?
She glanced at her blue robes, left in the middle of the clearing, at the
foot of the tall, standing stone hugging the statue of the Great Goddess. Too
far away. No time to step out of the catch basin and retrieve them. With a
flurry of the hand, she wove a quick invisibility spell and willed the water
around her to still.
Her heart stumbled for a beat or two. This could be the blessed day the
Great Goddess had promised her. The day she finally met her former beloved...
Sigefroi. Although, in his new incarnation, he wore another name.
The horseman emerged from the curtain of trees, impossibly tall, dark,
muscular, in black leather gear, a crossbow across his back. A sword slapped his
thigh, and a hunting knife adorned his belt. Half a dozen bloody hares hung from
the back of his saddle. Definitely not her beloved Sigefroi. What now?
The stranger glanced at her, raised a dark brow and nodded a salute from
the saddle. A restrained smile touched his lips. How could he possibly see her
through the invisibility spell? But he'd already crossed her privacy barrier.
Fae blood definitely coursed through his veins.
Melusine shrank into her chilly bath, dreading to face him naked.
It could be worse. It could be the first Wednesday of the month, when the
curse made her a serpent from the waist down. In this increasingly Christian
land, discovery in ondine form could cost her to burn at the stake.
Since the local Christians avoided Pagan shrines, however, the stranger
must be of the old faith.
She took a deep breath and made her voice as formidable and intimidating
as she could. "Who dares violate the sacred spring of the Great One?"
"Count Artaud of Forez." The deep baritone rang loud and clear.
Melusine's heartbeat faltered. Not an immortal, but worse. "Artaud of
Forez?"
"I own this land, and methinks you are the one trespassing." He dismounted
with surprising agility for his size, sliding off the saddle like an acrobat.
Melusine scrutinized the young man. According to the Goddess, Artaud had
inherited the soul of her late Sigefroi, but how could it be, when they looked
like opposites. Where Sigefroi had been wiry and fair, with gold reddish hair
and a clear gaze, Artaud had broad shoulders, straight black hair, a hale face,
and a dark, brooding gaze, as deep as a lake on a moonless night. Both looked
fearsome, but in different ways.
Count Artaud led his prancing stallion closer to the large rectangular
basin where she bathed.
Dear Goddess! Heat crept up Melusine's cheeks. She gathered her legs and
encircled her knees with her arms for modesty. "How dare you!"
"My horse is thirsty." His voice held a subtle challenge.
The black stallion snorted as its master freed him. The beast drank
noisily from the far end of the long basin.
Count Artaud cast her a sidelong glance, his swarthy, square face
unreadable. "The Great One would want to quench an animal's thirst."
"Only a Pagan would know the Great One respects all creatures as equal."
Melusine kept her voice even, but anger gripped her insides. How could this
Artaud hold the soul of her beloved? He was a cold, dark stranger, not her fiery
knight of old.
His brow shot up. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage, my lady. I have
never seen you at court or on my estates. Who might you be?"
Although she'd known they would soon meet, Melusine had no ready answer.
An ondine? A cursed immortal? The woman you are destined to marry? The love of
your past life? The enchantress who might bring your doom? She couldn't find
words he might accept, even less understand. While she remembered their lifetime
together, he did not.
No sympathy softened the neutral face as his dark stare pierced her. He
removed his black leather gloves and sat on a jutting stone next to the well
worn edge of the old basin. "Devil got your tongue?"
Visions of hellish creatures flashed upon Melusine's mind at his mention
of the devil. Christians believed in the devil... and Christians wanted her
dead.
"Melusine..." She cleared her choking voice. "My name is Melusine."
She fancied her first name innocuous enough. Better than Melusine the Fae,
immortal, cursed by the Great One, excommunicated First Lady of Luxembourg, the
love and the bane of your past existence.
"Lady Melusine..." He rolled the words on his tongue. His dark, liquid
eyes softened and unfocused slightly. "An unusual name for an unusual woman."
"‘Tis an ancient name, my lord." Tempted to prod his mind and find out
what he thought of her, she stopped herself. If he could see through her spells,
and Fae blood coursed through his veins, like Sigefroi, he would be impervious
to her magic... but not to her charms.
Changing tactic, she smiled and relaxed against the hollowed stone basin,
exposing her submersed nudity through the clear water. "I hear you have done
well, Lord Artaud. Your lands of Lyon and Forez thrive, and your people consider
you a fair and wise ruler."
He cast her a sidelong glance, then shifted his gaze to the statue of the
Great One dominating the clearing. The quenched black stallion walked away a few
paces and grazed the luscious grass of the hillock.
Awe widened his eyes as he faced her again. "What else have you heard
about me?"
Although Melusine had kept her promise not to spy on Artaud, she knew a
few things about him. "The river gold makes you richer than any king. So does
the trade on the pilgrimage road to St Jacques of Compostella. Travelers speak
highly of your hospitality."
Bird trills and the chirping of insects had resumed, and the sweet scent
of wild flowers filled the air with vibrant life.
"What you hear is true." He faced her but kept his gaze at eye level. "I'm
also a Pagan count ruling over Christian barons. That alone can get you killed
these days."
"Then we have much in common, my lord." Melusine smiled seductively. "Only
a devout Pagan would visit the sacred spring and the shrine of the Great One.
Why else would you come here?"
He barely cracked a thin smile. "To water my horse."
His jest bothered her. So did his cool response to her charms. Hard as she
tried, Melusine could not see in this man any remnant of her past love.
Had she waited these few decades for naught? Had the Great One tricked
her? No. The Great One never lied. Still, even though Melusine did not intend to
share this stranger's fate, she should warn him of the dangers threatening his
rule.
She trailed her fingers on the water surface, blurring it. "This hill is
not just a sacred shrine from time immemorial, Lord Artaud."
His dark gaze alighted upon her with a new spark of interest. "State your
meaning."
"‘Tis the site of your future castle of Montarcher."
Suspicion narrowed his eyes. "How do you know of my future designs?"
Melusine's heart skipped a beat. "The Great One sees and knows all, my
lord. You must build your castle in haste to face the coming dangers."
A muscle in his square jaw jumped. "What dangers?"
"Your enemies are gathering." Melusine didn't know the future, only that
Artaud would need help. "Many envy your riches, my lord. Others resent your
faith. But from here, you can fend them off."
"Why here?" His tone held curiosity.
Melusine straightened and gazed in the distance. She was destined to
protect him, but she felt naught for this stranger. "This is a sacred site, my
lord. From here, the statue of the Great One will bless and protect all your
lands."
His brow rose and his eyes softened but still stared at her. "Truly?"
Melusine shrank under his scrutiny, wishing she wore clothes. "Truly, my
lord."
"Thank you for the warning, my lady." He rose and whistled. His stallion
trotted up to him. In one light vault, Artaud landed in the saddle.
Melusine's heart jumped. Had she done right, or had she spoiled
everything? In any case, she must speak with the Great One. There must be a
mistake. She could never love this dark, brooding man. He was not her long lost
love.
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