Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)(46)

—Claire de Murrow

Connaught Castle, Kingdom of Legault





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Price of a Knight

There was a single leaf clinging to the branches of the tree. Ransom watched it, his back against the crooked trunk, wondering when it would fall. He didn’t want it to. The stubbornness of the stem clinging to the twig gave him a small measure of hope. The woods were carpeted with fallen debris from the trees. A tattered cloak covered his shoulders, but it did little to warm him. Cold and hunger were his constant companions these many months.

“You try and do better,” snorted Callum.

Ransom knew all their names now. He knew the moods of his guards, their temperaments. In a strange way, he was part of DeVaux’s mesnie, even though he was a prisoner. He took a turn feeding the fire, which kept them all warm at night, but it would have been impossible to escape, given that multiple guards were always on duty and his leg still troubled him. Not that he would have tried to run. When a knight was being held for ransom, it was considered dishonorable to attempt an escape. And so he stayed.

He talked with the other men, bantered with them, and shared their cup of misery, which they’d all drunk from since the day they’d unwittingly murdered Lord Rakestraw.

Callum, Brett, Jonah, and Riley had come upon the notion that hurling a boulder would be a pleasant way to spend a cold afternoon. One by one, they’d hefted the massive rock, which was about the size of a miller’s bag of wheat. And they’d thrown it down the hillside, seeing how far it would roll before resting. Then two men would fetch it and bring it back. So far, Riley held the record.

“I can do better than you,” Jonah told another man with a snort.

“But you can’t do better than Riley. His went the farthest.” A dagger had been stuck tip-down to mark the spot.

Jonah brushed his hands together and swaggered to the stump. They were all of them filthy, having spent the summer and early autumn skulking in the woods, avoiding capture and threatening manors and castles alike for food and temporary shelter. The king’s men had come close to them more than once, and only DeVaux’s perverse luck had saved them from capture. If Ransom had had any coins, he would have cast them with his prayers into the streams of water they passed. But he had nothing of value. They’d taken everything away.

Jonah screwed up his face as they handed him the heavy stone. He stared at the mark, his eyes full of fire. Ransom rubbed his mouth, feeling the tangled beard on his jaw. His locks were speckled with bits of soot and flecks of dead leaves. He wondered if his hands would ever become clean again. But he watched the contest with amusement and secretly hoped that Jonah would best them all. He was the closest in age to Ransom, the one who’d served DeVaux for the fewest years. The others made grunting noises to try to distract him, which elicited a scowl from the flaxen-haired knight.

With a mighty heave, Jonah let the boulder fly. It landed with a thump and didn’t roll at all. It was the worst of the throws and was met with derisive laughter. Jonah muttered a curse and kicked at the log.

“Don’t kick it,” Riley shouted. “You moved the stump, man!”

“Who cares?” Brett said with a surly frown. “We’ve all tried. You won. Get your coins.”

No one liked to lose. Ransom had watched them bet on everything they could—throwing knives, the loudest whistle, the strongest arm. They were bored, hating the exile as much as Ransom did, and had grown petulant, even with one another.

Ransom looked up to discover the single leaf had fallen while he’d watched the contest. It caused a stab of pain in his heart to have missed such a simple scene. He’d hoped that leaf would last longer. How he felt like a withered leaf some days.

“What about Ransom? I bet he could beat your throw.”

The comment from Jonah snagged his attention away from the barren tree.

“Don’t be daft, he’s still limping,” Riley said, but he sounded concerned.

“So? You afraid of losing your winnings?” Brett added.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Riley said, chuckling. “It just doesn’t seem fair since he can’t bet anything.”

“Come on,” Callum said. “It’s for us to bet on. I’d risk another five livres he can beat you.”

“Five livres?” Riley said, chuffing. “I’ll take it. Who else is eager to lose their coins?”

“I’ll bet three,” Jonah said.

“It’s five or nothing,” Riley countered. “Are you a man or a weasel?”

“Shut it!” Jonah said with fury. “I’ll bet five.”

Soon they’d all agreed on the increased stakes. Riley tromped over to Ransom and cocked his head. “You up for it? I’d like to see you lose.”

“Come on,” Brett said encouragingly. “I’ll give you my meat ration if you best him!”

They were all looking at him now, their gazes intense.

Ransom stood, and although it was painful, he exaggerated his discomfort with a pronounced wince to heighten the tension.

“He’ll do it! He’ll do it!” Jonah said, clapping Callum on the back.

Ransom brushed his hands together. “What do I get if I throw it farther?”

“You really think you can?” Riley challenged.