Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)(47)

Ransom shrugged. “Hardly seems fair that I should get nothing.”

“You want a share of the winnings?” Callum said, laughing.

Ransom shook his head. “No. I want my bracelet back.” He looked at Riley, the one who had taken it from him and still wore it.

Riley’s eyes darkened with emotion. Was it guilt or greed? Ransom had never asked for it back. He’d not said a word about the things they’d taken from him.

“Oooh,” Callum said, clapping his hands. “This will be good! Come on, Riley. The boy wants his bracelet back. Wager it! Come on! Wager it! Are you a weasel?”

The others joined in, and Riley’s eyes darkened more. “It means nothing to me,” he said, but his look belied his words. “Throw the stone, boy.”

Ransom was hardly a boy, but he took the insult without reaction and began to hobble to the fallen log they’d used to mark the starting point. Jonah grinned and clapped again before he joined Brett in fetching the boulder. Ransom limped up to the edge of the fallen log, but Riley kicked it with his foot, scooting it back.

Neither of them commented on it.

Jonah and Brett grimaced as they hefted the boulder back up the hill and brought it to Ransom, who stood on the other side of the log. They deposited the boulder into his arms, and the weight of it made his muscles strain immediately.

“You can do it!” Jonah encouraged, thumping him on the back. He nearly toppled over.

“He can’t. He’s wounded still,” Riley said, folding his arms. He looked self-assured, but Ransom saw a trickle of sweat go down his cheek.

Ransom let out a deep breath, knowing his strength would ebb further each moment he held the stone. His strength had never fully returned since his capture, for he had no sword to train with. They’d taken away his hauberk and never returned it, leaving him vulnerable to attack. His muscles coiled as he prepared to heave the stone, but he sank into himself first, trying to find that spark of will. The hollow well was nearly empty still, but he could sense the ripple of water far down. He thought of Claire, just as he did every night before falling asleep. And with that thought, he felt a prickle of awareness and heard the gentle lapping of waters, even though there was no stream save the one at the bottom of the hill.

Ransom gritted his teeth as he threw the boulder with all his might. He put his whole body behind it and watched as it shot from his arms, earning a gasp or two from his fellows. The strain released, and he bent over, hands on his knees, as he watched the boulder sail. It hit the ground at a slant and began to roll. As it rolled, it picked up speed.

“Look! Look! He’s doing it!” shouted Brett with glee.

The boulder went straight toward the dagger and knocked it over as it rolled farther down the incline before coming to rest. Pain shot up Ransom’s wounded leg. He fell down in agony, knowing he’d reinjured himself. He was promptly surrounded by guffaws and laughter.

Although he relished the acclaim, the throbs grew unbearable, and he looked at his pants, his filthy, stained pants, expecting to see them welling up with crimson again.

“Good work, eh?” Jonah said. “Look at that! Farthest yet. Come on, Riley! Can you beat it? Can you?”

In a few moments, it became clear Riley could not. His last throw was his final attempt to beat his own record and Ransom’s. And when the boulder fell short of his previous attempt, the guffaws increased, and soon coins were changing hands. Riley’s purse was nearly emptied from his loss.

Ransom watched him unhook the braided bracelet. He tromped up to Ransom and held it out. “It’s yours again,” he said.

Taking it back, Ransom stared at it for a moment before looking at Riley’s face. There was no anger there. He’d lost, but it had been his own fault.

“Thank you,” Ransom said. When he was first captured, he had assumed they were all evil because of what they’d done to Lord Rakestraw’s men. But he had realized they saw him the same way. He had killed many of their friends, right in front of them. He realized now that DeVaux’s men were like any others, like him, even—it was a man’s loyalties that determined his actions.

It made him all the more determined to serve a worthy lord.

Despite the sizzling pain in his leg, Ransom put on the bracelet and rubbed his chafed fingers against the pattern. The attempt had been worth it.

The sound of horses could be heard, and when they turned, they saw DeVaux and his other knights coming up the hill. There were only sixteen knights left. The others had died or slipped away during watch, but these sixteen owed everything to DeVaux and had tied their fortunes to him. To prevent more defections, DeVaux made them stay in companies of four, which he changed up every fortnight.

DeVaux rode to their makeshift camp on the hilltop, his breathing hard.

“What news, my lord?” Jonah asked.

DeVaux’s expression was always difficult to read. He was good at keeping his thoughts to himself. But Ransom saw the other knights were grinning. It was good news for them, although he wasn’t sure what that might mean for him.

With a sniff and a cunning smile, DeVaux turned and looked at the other four who had been left to guard Ransom. “It’s over. We’ve been pardoned.”

“What!” exclaimed Riley. The knights all let out a cheer.

“You mean . . . we can go back?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Full pardons, to all of us. There will be no retribution. I have the promise written here with the king’s own seal.” He reached into his belt and removed a scroll, which he wagged at them.