THE NEXT FEW DAYS, I kept my eye on Anne, trying to determine what connection she might have to the murdered knights. And the killing of Sophie and Phillipe.

Her husband was returning in a matter of days, and all of Bor俥 was in a state of anxiousness and preparation. Flags were hung from the ramparts; merchants put out their best wares; the chatelain led his troops in their welcoming formations. Whom could I trust?

I waited for Emilie on Sunday morning as she emerged from the chapel with the other ladies-in-waiting. I caught her eye and lingered until the others were gone.

My lady. I took her aside. I have no right to ask. I shouldn't ask. But I need your help.

Here. She motioned, leading me to a prayer bench in a side chapel. She sat next to me and lowered the hood of her shawl. What's wrong, Hugh?

This was very hard. I sought the right words to begin. Be certain, I would never speak to you of this unless it was of the highest need. I know you serve your mistress with all your heart.

She wrinkled her face. Please do not hesitate with me. Haven't I proven my trust for you enough?

You have. Many times, I said.

I took a breath and recounted the horror of my trip to St. C俢ile. I told it in detail: the charred mounds, the eviscerated knight, the most graphic images sticking in my throat like memories that did not want to come out.

I told her of Adh俶ar, whose similar fate I had heard of at Baldwin's court. Both knights were slaughtered, their villages razed. Both had recently returned from the Crusade. Just as I had.

Why do you tell this to me? she finally asked.

You have not heard of such deeds? At court? Around the castle?

No. They are vile. Why should I?

Knights who disappear and return? Or talk of sacred relics from the Holy Land? Things more valuable than a simple fool like me would know.

You are my only relic from the Holy Land. She smiled, trying to shift the mood.

I could see her ............