Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)(104)

—Claire de Murrow

Queen’s Tower

(disgusted with the kingdom)





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Death Watch

Gison castle was small but formidable. It was one of the rewards Ransom had received for winning the tournament of Chessy. He liked it well enough, even though it did not feel like home. The only place that had felt as such was the Kingfountain of his childhood. The main hall was smaller than that of the Heath, but the timberwork on the interior was sturdy and the walls in good repair. His steward, a man named Lamere, had just finished going over the revenues with him, and Ransom had given the order that Lady Sibyl was to handle the finances moving forward.

Night had settled, and the few servants within the castle were lighting the interior torches. Ransom sat at the dining table, his meal complete, brooding about the journey that lay ahead.

Word of Devon’s attempted insurrection had already reached him, and he was grateful to be nowhere near Beestone castle. He picked up the goblet and saw the cup was already empty before setting it down again.

Lamere strode back into the dining hall, a confused look on his face. “My lord, you have a visitor.”

Ransom started in surprise, then pushed back the chair. Who would think to visit him here? He’d told none but his family he intended to make the journey. “Who is it?”

“Sir Simon of Holmberg,” said Lamere. “Do you know him?”

Suddenly Ransom remembered telling Simon about the castle on their journey to Brythonica. He’d forgotten all about it during the upheaval in his life. “I do. Send him in at once,” Ransom said, his confusion growing. Concern gripped him, and he began to pace while Lamere left to fetch the visitor.

Simon strode swiftly into the dining hall, his hair windblown and his face weary from an arduous journey. The panicked look on his face struck Ransom forcibly. So, too, did the fact that his skin was paler than chalk.

“What’s happened?” he asked with dread.

“You need to come with me,” Simon said. “Right now. This very night.”

Ransom gripped the edge of his chair and cocked his head. “Where?”

“To Beestone castle.”

“If this is your idea of a jest, Simon . . .” Ransom started, but one look at his friend’s face silenced him.

“Devon is dying,” Simon said softly.

The news struck Ransom like a staff to the ribs. He took a couple of steps toward his friend. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know what news has reached you, but I will be brief. He sent me to get you. He told me to kill as many horses as necessary and bring you back to him. He was wrong about his wife. It was Sir Robert who was carrying on with her. When Devon found out . . . he . . . I’ve never seen him so distraught. Noemie fled the castle. She’s probably back in Pree by now. She won’t stand by him when he falls, not again. She won’t be a prisoner like Emiloh. Then Devon fell sick. He’s been coughing up blood. He sent Talbot to tell his father that he surrenders. And he sent me to get you. He feels horrible about what he did to you. He wants your forgiveness . . .” His voice cracked. “Before he dies.”

Ransom stared at him in disbelief, feeling the shock of the situation down to his bones. The sudden sickness could be no coincidence. He grieved for Devon, but he also felt the sinking sensation of having acted the fool. Noemie had told him that Devon’s life was at stake. He’d believed it to be yet another ploy to sway him into her trap.

The words the Elder King had spoken to him years before came back with haunting prescience. He could hear the voice ringing in his skull.

Your duty is to keep that feckless young man alive!

“How far is Beestone?” Ransom demanded.

“I left there this morning. My horse nearly died getting me here.”

“Are you fit to ride?”

Simon nodded, but his exhaustion was apparent.

“Get some rest. You can have a horse from my stables. I’ll leave at once. Lamere!”

The steward, who had been waiting just outside the door, entered with an expectant look.

“I want the fastest horse from the stables prepared. I’m leaving at once. When Sir Simon has recovered, you will provide him a fresh mount and send him after me. Everything I wanted for my journey, I want you to send to Beestone castle. My armor, provisions, everything. Send them to Beestone.” He gripped Simon’s shoulder. “Refresh yourself, and join me as soon as you can.”

“I’m coming now,” Simon said.

Ransom shrugged. “I’m not waiting for you.”

Before the candle had burned past another notch, Ransom was wearing his hauberk and a cloak and galloping out of Gison into the night.



As Ransom rode, his thoughts twisted into knots full of revenge and self-loathing. He’d been played a fool by the cloaked lady. With Ransom out of the way, Devon had been left totally unprotected. Who was a part of the plot? Sir Robert, surely, and Noemie had known. Did that mean the Occitanian king was the snake?

The woman had been watching Devon for years. Why kill him now?

No other travelers strayed across his path all night. When dawn came, he stopped to water his mount at a stream before pushing onward again. The rouncy was bred for stamina, and it sensed the concern and worry of its rider and responded with surprising resolve. His stomach growled with hunger, but he didn’t stop to feed himself. Each league increased his anxiety to arrive in time.