Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 20.1: The Fallen Woman

Signor Antonio's French henchmen emerged from the castle before Reine had a chance to make good on her threat. Knowing exactly what needed to be done, Christophe and Etienne quickly took Sylvana into their custody.

Max's bleeding had slowly ceased, allowing the wound on his abdomen to finally close. He was still weak, but with Reine's help, they were able to return to the castle.

When he heard what had happened just outside his doors, Antonio immediately set to work on contacting the Council, disproving Max's story that he didn't own a telephone. With only his bloody shirt indicating something unusual had just happened, Max also disappeared to start making calls.

After finalizing their arrangements, both men rejoined Reine in the elaborately decorated parlor at almost the same time.

"It is done," Antonio said as he  settled into a gilded Rococo chair. "The Council has agreed to meet tomorrow evening if we can get the woman to them in time."

Max closed the floor to ceiling height door behind him. "That won't be a problem. My jet will be in Orleans by morning, and we'll fly directly into Ostend."

"She'll finally be put on trial, then?" Reine rose from her seat under a ten-foot tall portrait of a French queen and met him halfway across the room. With his swift recovery, she was able to concentrate on finally getting justice. "She'll have to answer for Gabe's death, and I guess for trying to kill you," she said, sticking two fingers through Max's torn shirt to touch his bare skin.

"Oh, I'm quite certain that knife was meant for you. I just happened to get in the way," he said, lifting her hand before gently kissing it. "But I'd rather try to forget about her until tomorrow. So, first things first. I need a shower and a change of clothes. Afterwards, I'd like to take you into town for a proper dinner. Sound good?"

"When you put it that way, how could I not accept an offer to get away from a homicidal maniac?" She tried to hide her shock at realizing how close her unborn child had come to harm. "I'm not really dressed for an evening out, though."

He looked her up and down. "Lucky for you, Blois has some excellent boutiques."

Half an hour later, they were sitting in the white SUV heading toward the regional capital where Joan of Arc began her campaign for the relief of Orleans. Max drove over a stone bridge spanning the low river just as the sun was setting over the city in front of them. Orange light bounced off the reddish-purple clouds overhead and lit the ancient, whitewashed buildings in a surreal display.

Parking near the Chateau Royal, they took care of the shopping first. Max kept staring out the lavish storefront, and Reine could tell he was bored out of his mind. He still made sure to compliment everything she modeled, and she soon emerged with several very expensive outfits for the next few days.

"And now, for some food," he said as he hooked an arm around her waist and led Reine in her new, little, black dress toward the central square.

The farther they walked into the historic town, the denser the crowds became until they saw the reason why. A large banner stretched across the roadway announcing a free, public showing of Verdi's "La Traviata" exactly where they were heading.

After a few more minutes, they finally reached a row of restaurants lining the square. The packed outdoor seating areas faced the central space holding a large stage where the opera was already in full swing. Alfredo was in the middle of the unmistakable drinking song, and the audience was singing along to the words encouraging celebration and love.

A shiver ran up Reine's back from the lively atmosphere, but the crowd worried her. "There's no way we're going to find an empty table," she observed, seeing throngs of people lined up at the doors waiting to be seated.