Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)(103)

Ransom had no hesitation. “Yes, Deconeus. Yes, I have.”

The deconeus pursed his lips. “Then I wish you the Lady’s favor on your journey. If you succeed, I would be most honored if you’d return and tell me more of what you faced. Two years may seem a lifetime to one so young as you.” A smile lifted his lips. “I just wish I had been brave enough to try it myself.”



Spending time with his family at the Heath had done Ransom some good. Yes, word had reached them before he did. But they hadn’t lost their good feelings for him, and when he explained the truth of what had happened, they were relieved to learn that his conduct had not been dishonorable.

His sister, Maeg, was a handsome young lady now, with a fair share of suitors, although she was still interested in one of the household knights. Marcus, his elder brother, had gained a lot of weight during his time overseeing the affairs of the castle. Since the Elder King preferred to hire mercenaries these days, many of the nobles had not kept up with their training. Sibyl, his mother, continued to pet Ransom’s hand while he ate or when he shared stories of his adventures. They all loved hearing his stories, especially the one about the tournament he’d won despite being nearly blinded by his helmet.

He’d only planned to spend a day at the Heath, but his family encouraged him to lengthen his stay, and their warmth convinced him to do so. He enjoyed walking with Maeg and discussing the affairs of the court with his brother. One afternoon, sitting by the hearth, his mother asked for his permission to send a letter to Lord Kinghorn informing him of the truth of the matter. But Ransom refused her.

“No, I sent one to Devon myself. I don’t think he’s ready to heed me, but I needed to warn him anyway. I fear he’s put himself in a dangerous situation. Perhaps things will change for the better while I’m away.”

He went on to ask if she would oversee his income from his properties in his absence, and she readily agreed. With tears in her eyes, she thanked him for his trust in her.

“I have means now,” he said, embracing her. “When I was young, you helped me find a position with Lord Kinghorn. I wouldn’t be the man I am today if you hadn’t sent me to him. I should like to help you in return. Can I help with Maeg’s dowry?”

His mother grinned at him, and he could tell the offer pleased her. “It would mean very much to us all. Thank you.” She squeezed his hands. “We’re blessed to have you.”

They made a feast for him on his final night staying with them. He’d been to feasts at Kingfountain and Pree, but this one was different. He didn’t feel like he needed to watch his back or be wary of anyone approaching him. His sister was quite a storyteller herself, and he enjoyed listening to her talk and even sing, which he responded to with enthusiastic applause. While he was with his family, he felt a gentle throbbing inside his empty well. Yes, he had been rejected by his master, but he could be loyal to his family. Perhaps that was enough.

It was near the end of the meal when a courier arrived. It was one of the Elder King’s heralds, and the sight of the man’s badge—the Silver Rose—caused a prick of envy in Ransom’s chest. He rose to greet the herald, but the man went directly to Marcus instead.

“What news?” Marcus asked the man, taking a sealed scroll from him.

“The king wishes you to be ready,” he said curtly, then his gaze shifted to Ransom sitting as one of the guests. He clearly recognized him, but it didn’t disrupt his composure.

Marcus broke the seal and quickly scanned the note. He let out a whistle of surprise.

“What has happened?” Sibyl asked. Maeg looked worried.

Marcus lowered the scroll, his face full of dread. “Duke Goff invaded the duchy of Vexin. Two of the king’s sons are fighting each other.”

“Aye,” said the herald. “The Elder King’s ungrateful sons will never be at peace with one another.”

Ransom heard the words, but a memory sparked in his mind. Goff had asked for a private conversation with Devon during the tournament. A sour feeling twisted in his gut. At the time he’d assumed the meeting was about the fate of Sir Terencourt, but now he wondered. Was Devon part of this outburst? Had he been talked into something he would regret? Was James now the one giving him advice? Ransom had no illusions about the outcome of a fight between Benedict and Goff. Benedict was more ruthless and more determined.

The sickly feeling inside him grew worse. Things were not as they seemed.

A log in the hearth exploded in a crackle of thunder and a shower of sparks.

He could not help but think it an ill omen.





I continue to be astounded by the feckless nature of men. Are they all eejits? I am aghast at the latest news coming to the palace. The Younger King was behind the treachery in the Vexin. Somehow he persuaded his brother Goff to start the trouble. But it was a ploy, a diversion from his true aim, to depose his father, the king. Again. There was to be a talk of a peace in Westmarch, but Goff had concealed men there in the hopes of ambushing the Elder King. But their father was too canny for them, and the men were discovered and driven away. When his treachery was revealed, the Younger King fled toward Brythonica, but his escape was cut off.

Young Devon is holed up in Beestone castle, the castellan of which was sympathetic toward him, and his father is preparing to besiege the castle and bring his son to heel one more time. The barmy catastrophe could have easily been prevented. It wouldn’t surprise me if Duke Benedict attacks Brythonica in retaliation. Such witless fools. The father gave a kingdom to his son, although it wasn’t freely given, and the inheritance would have been the work of a lifetime. That future end wasn’t enough to satisfy the Younger King’s ambition. And now he’s barricaded himself inside a castle that, some say, is without peer. Yet somehow, I don’t imagine it will take long for the Elder King to bring the walls down.