Read Online Roman by Heather Grothaus - Free Book Online

Wynn.”
    â€œIf there’s nothing else, I’m off to bed.” He turned to Roman and patted him on his left shoulder. “Rest well, big fellow.” The albino shuffled from the cell without another glance over his shoulder.
    Once the door had closed, Roman looked to Constantine. “Stan? What are you doing here?”
    The general kept his eyes trained on the floor somewhere in the area of his feet. Constantine hardly ever looked up anymore. It was as if his burden of sorrow had become so great that it had physically impaired him.
    â€œI owe you an apology, Roman.” He glanced up, meeting Roman’s eyes for only an instant and then dropping his gaze again, nodding almost imperceptibly, as if he were hearing a conversation in his own head. At last he muttered, “I suppose it could be Raynald of Chatillon.”
    Roman winced. “Who could what?”
    Isra stepped just inside the glow of the torch. “The traitor who has schemed with the Englishman to see Baldwin dead?”
    Constantine shook his head. “No. Raynald wouldn’t have schemed directly with Felsteppe. That would be too easily turned on him. I think Felsteppe has used his connections in Saladin’s camp to encourage a pact with the traitor. Perhaps a senior adviser in Raynald’s company. Felsteppe knows the leaders of the states well: their means, their frustrations. No doubt he has been kept well-informed as Baldwin’s hero.” Stan all but spat the last word.
    Roman was still hesitant to draw any conclusions. “You wish to return to Syria and warn Baldwin?”
    Again, Constantine’s tangle of hair shook. He looked up. “I’ll stand with you, whatever you and the others wish to see done. But I will not go. You need to understand the danger you will be in.”
    â€œWe can’t simply let him die, Stan,” Roman said. “He was once your friend. And his word could be the very thing that clears us all.”
    Constantine only looked at Roman with deep sadness in his eyes, and Roman knew in that moment that Stan didn’t really care if his name was ever cleared.
    Roman nodded and held out his left arm.
    Constantine took it, and the two men sat connected for a moment before Stan rose from his seat. He once more averted his gaze. “You have been excused from your regular duties. Wynn has requested your assistance with the lairs.”
    Roman nodded. “I’ll come to you when I have made my decision.”
    â€œGood night.” Stan turned and left the cell without a glance for the woman still skirting the pool of torchlight.
    â€œAt least he did not speak of killing me,” she mused, and then she turned her gentle smile upon Roman. “Perhaps he is beginning to like me.”

Chapter 4
    R oman left her cell soon after, promising Isra that he would return after the brethren of Melk had broken the fast together the next morn, and he was true to his word. The screeching of the wooden door across the stony floor startled her from her pacing, and she held her breath as she turned to see who had entered.
    The blond man had changed into a cowled robe, and his hair was dark gold, the damp ends curling around his temple and square jaw. His right sleeve hung limp, the obvious misshapenness across Roman’s midsection indicating that he was wearing his arm in a sling close to his body. Isra’s stomach clenched as it flashed through her mind that his injuries were entirely her fault. He could have been killed.
    Lou perched on Roman’s shoulder, but Isra could not see the falcon’s sharp black eyes for the hood that it wore. Roman turned and pushed the door of Isra’s cell closed before reaching up and removing Lou’s hood.
    â€œIt’s best to keep him blind down here. No telling what he might get after otherwise. But I thought you’d like to say hello.”
    â€œGood morn, my lord.” She approached both man and bird and reached