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with her hastily concocted story than appearing recalcitrant, she rose from her seat and stepped down to join them. Marguerite introduced her the way they had planned.
    "My lords, this is my cousin by marriage from Rouen, wife of the master mason of the cathedral there. She has been visiting me at this most unfortunate time."
    Allesandra was fortunate that she spoke French. Like Mar-

    guerite, she had been educated by a tutor who foresaw the day when the southerners, who spoke Provencal, might need to be conversant in French.
    While the northern country had a name, France, the southern principalities had been too fragmented politically to call themselves any one regional name. However, the war had united the southern lords to a greater degree than before, and now they accepted the appellation Languedoc for convenience.
    "Well, Gaucelm," said Simon, "a lady from Rouen. One of our own. A good Catholic no doubt."
    She did not miss the challenge in his demanding voice, but she strained to appear unruffled. "Yes, my lord."
    The knight called Gaucelm took a step nearer and spoke. "I have spent much time in Rouen. Perhaps I have seen the cathedral upon which this lady's husband works."
    She felt her face warm. She had never set foot in Rouen, but called to mind drawings and illuminated pages of the cathedral that her tutor had shown her long ago.
    "Perhaps, my lord."
    The corners of his mouth lifted slightly and his eyes glimmered. But his challenge was not cruel like that of de Montfort.
    "When I was there, the roof had not yet been raised, nor the spires completed. Tell me, is it finished now?"
    "Not completely, my lord"
    She had no idea, but she could lie about finishing touches even if this knight with the disconcerting presence attempted to trip her up.
    Simon de Montfort interrupted. "And does this master mason have a name?"
    Fortunately, Marguerite supplied a name, for Allesandra was too busy thinking up possible answers for the imposing Gaucelm, whose piercing eyes challenged her.
    "My lord General, allow me to present Elisabeth Chavanne. Her husband is a cousin of my husband's," said Marguerite.
    Gaucelm had not taken his eyes off Allesandra, who struggled

    to lower her gaze and curtsy to the French commander. The sooner she and Marguerite were left alone, the better. But she feared they would be kept under guard, and she would have no way to escape. Every moment she remained here placed her own demesne in more danger. For she was certain that once Muret was secured, the French army would waste no time laying claim to the lands farther south and west toward the Pyrenees, which bordered on the kingdom of Aragon.
    "I am honored, sir," she said, eyes still lowered.
    "Hmmm," uttered Simon. "If you are, as you say, no enemy of King Philip of France, then I have no reason to restrain you. It is odd, however, to find a French woman from the North residing here in the south at such a time. Such sympathizers with the southern nobility are rare. And in man's dress at that."
    "She was mounted and on the field, my lord," said Gaucelm. "I saw her this morning."
    Allesandra was startled. How could he have noticed her when he was busy directing an attack? But she did not deny it.
    "I see." Simon de Montfort clasped his gloved hands behind his back. His boot scraped on the rush-covered plank floor as he came to stand more directly in front of her. "So, a northern lady who takes so much interest in a battle as to be present when our forces attacked. On which side was she fighting, Gaucelm?"
    "She was riding for the river when I saw her, my lord."
    Gaucelm had not precisely answered Simon's question, and Allesandra quickly took advantage of it.
    "I can easily explain my ride this morning, my lord. I had been out helping a sick forester and his wife since yesterday. I had no knowledge of the attack until I came upon the armies by the river. When you saw me, I was no doubt engaged in trying to cross the river to get out of harm's way."
    She