THE LANGUEDOCIANS WERE THE FIRST to leave, early the following morning. Ox told me there was a saying in their part of the woods: No sense hanging around the wine cask when the party's over.

He and his men assembled at the gates at dawn, their horses loaded with sacks of grain, a few pigs, and hens fluttering behind. I went out in the early light to bid them farewell.

You should stay, I told him. Anne has promised to address all your claims. You deserve a lot more.

More? We are farmers, Ox said. What else do we need? If we came back laden with gold chalices, our people would think they were to piss in.

In that case... I patted him on the shoulder and flashed him a glimpse of a plate of gold engraved with Stephen's crest that I intended to give him as a memento. No need to leave with this.

Ox looked around and then tucked it in his saddle pouch. I guess I'll have to teach them some proper manners. He grinned.

I embraced him, patting the warrior warmly on his broad back.

Look us up, jester, if you ever have the urge to return that lance. He winked. He slapped his horse and signaled his men forward.

I watched until the last of them had disappeared through the city gates. Stephen was being buried later that day. That was one last thing I had to do.

A few of my men were there as the coffin was brought to the cathedral. It was not a service befitting a duke who had died in battle. Only Anne, their son, Emilie, and I were inside the church with the bishop.

The duke's coffin was carried into a crypt deep inside the castle and placed in a marble sarcophagus. In this dark, narrow space, well below ground, lay the remains of past bishops and members of the ruling family. There was barely enough air to fuel a torch.

The blessing was simple and quick. What was there to say?............