Lead Demon

Exchange Glances

“I think there are three,” I said with a laugh. I had on a linen smock with tight lace cuffs, tight green sleeves that matched my bodice and skirts, and voluminous puffs of green silk that fell from my shoulders and were caught up at the elbows and wrists. Jehanne, who had been in Paris last year to attend upon Louisa, assured me the design was à la mode.

“But how am I supposed to kiss you with all this in the way?” Seven drew his finger around my neck. My pleated ruff, which was standing out a good four inches, quivered in response.

“If you squash it, Jehanne will have a stroke,” I murmured as he carefully took my face in his hands. She’d employed a contraption resembling a curling iron to bend yards of linen into the crisp figure-eight formations. It had taken her hours.

“Never fear. I’m a doctor.” Seven leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine. “There, not a pleat disturbed.”

Alain coughed gently. “They are waiting for you.”

“Seven,” I said, catching at his hand, “I need to tell you something.”

He motioned to Alain, and we were left alone in the corridor.

“What is it?” he said uneasily.

“I sent Catrine to the stillroom to put away Marthe’s herbs.” It was a far bigger step into the unknown than the one that I’d taken in Sarah’s hop barn to bring us here.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” I said, remembering Michael’s words at the temple.

Our entry into the hall was greeted with whispers and sidelong glances. The changes in my appearance had been noted, and the nods told me that at last I looked like someone who was fit to marry milord.

“There they are,” Michael boomed from the family’s usual table. Someone began to clap, and soon the hall rang with the sound. Seven’s smile was shy at first, but as the noise increased, it broadened into a proud grin.

We were seated in the places of honor on either side of Michael, who then called for the first course and music to accompany it. I was offered small portions of everything Chef had prepared. There were dozens of dishes: a soup made with chickpeas, grilled eel, a delicious puree of lentils, salt cod in garlic sauce, and an entire fish that swam through a gelatinous sea of aspic, with sprigs of lavender and rosemary impersonating water plants. Michael explained that the menu had been the subject of heated negotiations between Chef and the village priest. After the exchange of several embassies, the two had finally agreed that tonight’s meal would strictly adhere to the Friday dietary prohibitions against meat, milk, and cheese, while tomorrow’s banquet would be a no-holds-barred extravaganza.

As befitted the groom, Seven’s portions were somewhat heartier than mine—unnecessarily so, since he ate nothing and drank little. The men at the adjoining tables joked with him about the need to bolster his strength for the ordeals to come.

By the time the hippocras started flowing and a delicious nut brittle made with walnuts and honey was passed along the table, their commentary was downright ribald and Seven’s responses were just as barbed. Happily, most of the insults and advice were delivered in languages I didn’t fully understand, but Michael clapped his hands over my ears occasionally anyway.

My heart lifted as the laughter and music swelled. Tonight Seven didn’t look like a fifteen-hundred-year-old vampire but like every other groom the night before his wedding: sheepish, pleased, a bit anxious. This was the man I loved, and my heart stilled for just a moment whenever his gaze settled on me.

The singing started when Chef served the last selection of wine and the candied fennel and cardamom seeds. A man at the opposite end of the hall sang out in a deep bass, and his neighbors picked up the melody. Soon everybody was joining in, with so much stomping and clapping that you couldn’t hear the musicians trying desperately to keep up with them.

While the guests were busily devising new songs, Michael made the rounds, greeting everyone by name. He threw babies into the air, inquired after animals, and listened attentively while the elderly cataloged their aches and pains.

“Just look at him,” Seven marveled, taking my hand. “How does Michael manage to make every one of them feel that they’re the most important guest in the room?”

“You tell me,” I said with a laugh. When Seven looked confused, I shook my head. “Seven, you are exactly the same. All you need do to take charge of a roomful of people is to enter it.”

“If you want a hero like Michael, you’re going to be disappointed in me,” he said.

I took his face in my hands. “For your wedding gift, I wish I had a spell that could make you see yourself as others do.”

“Based on what’s reflected in your eyes, I look much the same. A little nervous, perhaps, given what Guillaume just shared with me about the carnal appetites of older women,” Seven joked, trying to distract me. But I was having none of it.

“If you aren’t seeing a leader of men, then you’re not looking carefully.” Our faces were so close I could smell the spice on his breath. Without thinking, I drew him to me. Michael had tried to tell Seven he was worthy of being loved. Perhaps a kiss would be more convincing.

In the distance I heard shouts and more clapping. Then there was whooping.

“Leave the girl something to look forward to tomorrow, Matthaios, or she may not meet you at the church!” Michael called out, drawing more laughter from the crowd. Seven and I parted in happy embarrassment. I searched the hall and found Seven’s father by the fireside, tuning an instrument with seven strings. Seven told me it was a Sebastianhara. A hush of anticipation fell over the room.

“When I was a child, there were always stories at the end of a banquet such as this, and tales of heroes and great warriors.” Michael plucked the strings, eliciting a shower of sound. “And just like all men, heroes fall in love.” His strumming continued, lulling the audience into the rhythms of his story.

“A hero with dark hair and green eyes named Peleus left his home to seek his fortune. It was a place much like Saint-Lucien, hidden in the mountains, but Peleus had long dreamed of the sea and the adventures he might have in foreign lands. He gathered his friends together, and they voyaged through the oceans of the world. One day they arrived at an island famed for its beautiful women and the powerful magic that they had at their command.” Seven and I exchanged long glances. Michael’s deep voice sang out his next words: