A Knight in Central Park(80)

Joe frowned at seeing George untied. “I guess I’m not as handy with tying knots as I had hoped.”

The man spit at Sebastiano’s feet. “The king will have you hung for this!”

Sebastiano put a knee to the man’s gut, silencing him for the moment. “’Tis the Black Knight you are speaking to you addle-headed bastard. If you say another word, ’twill be spoken with respect.”

Alexandra pointed a finger at the man in Sebastiano’s grasp. “He and his companion have hired and paid a man to kill King Henry.”

Sebastiano squeezed the man’s neck within the crook of his elbow. “Tell me where the king is to visit next. Tell me now if you want to live.”

“I know naught of that which she speaks. ’Tis R-Radmore’s Keep where the king is expected to visit. I know n-not when though,” George answered between gasps for breath.

Alexandra looked to Sir Joe. “’Tis Richard’s keep he speaks of.”

“Run off,” Sebastiano said to the man. “Tell your ill-bred friends that it is I, the Black Prince who set you free. Tell them also that the Black Knight has returned. Now go!” He pushed him to the dirt and shooed the half-naked man away. “Spread the word! And dare not come again unless you are ready to meet your maker.”

The man was a few feet away when he stopped to glare at each one of them, hatred seething from eyes. “You will pay for this,” he said as he set off, sprinting for the woods. “Every one of you.”

Joe shrugged, then gave Sebastiano a skeptical look. “The Black Prince, huh?”

“Aye.” A wide grin spread across his face, making him look more like a swashbuckler and less like a medieval warrior. Sebastiano bowed before Alexandra, but she was busy and went back to Garrett’s side.

“What happened to the boy?” Sebastiano asked.

“That man you let escape tried to kill the boy,” Joe said. “Despite the gash in Garrett’s side though, the kid will be fine.”

“Do not worry about him,” Sebastiano said, referring to George. “He will get his just do. I guarantee you that.”

Joe nodded. “So what brings you here?”

“After I awoke from a long, deep sleep,” Sebastiano answered wryly, his brows arched. “I thought to aid you in your quest.”

Joe shook his head with amusement. “You were supposed to drink from the cup on your left.”

“Apparently.”

They both shared a laugh.

“I like to think I have things under control here,” Joe went on, “but if you have nothing better to do, then I’m sure we could use another set of hands.”

Sebastiano stroked his young chin. “I have been meaning to ask you what sort of accent it is you have picked up these past many months? Have you been hiding out in Wales, my friend?”

“I never said I was your friend,” Joe mocked, still distrustful of the young man. Although, he mused, Sebastiano could very well have saved their lives by stopping the thug from catching him off-guard.

Sebastiano laughed and followed Joe to where their bags lay. “Ah, so ’Tis true. The Black Knight has no friends; his heart as cold as the arctic winds of the North Pole, his humor nonexistent.”

Joe did his best to ignore Sebastiano as he shuffled through the numerous saddlebags until he found two cups. Then he moved to the fire and filled both with warm broth.

Still chuckling, Sebastiano stayed at his side, taking the cup Joe offered. “I do not mean to be disrespectful, old man, although I must admit ’Tis said by most that you have no heart or humor.”

Joe spared only another shake of his head. “I hate to disappoint you, but I am sincere when I tell you I am not the Black Knight.”

Noting the skepticism in Sebastiano’s eyes, Joe added, “I know, without a doubt, that I’m not the Black Knight. Someone close to me has spent a lifetime searching for the Black Knight’s identity. It has been well documented that the knight saved King Henry’s life and prevented England from possible downfall. It has also been written that the Black Knight can ride a horse as well as he can walk the beaten earth.” Joe smiled, then shook it off with a snort. “You’ve seen me ride.”

“But then how do you explain the pendant, the clothes, the very scar behind your ear?”

Joe shrugged. “I can’t.”

Sebastiano finished off his broth and set the cup to the ground near the fire. “Ah, well, whatever you say.” He glanced over at Alexandra. “You love her, do you not?”