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against a tree and nibbled on a dry crust while Diccon and Will bandied plots back and forth. ’Twas best to let them go on until they ran out of ideas—it wouldn’t take long. It was comfortable here in the forest, and he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.
A rustling in the bushes caught his attention. Will and Diccon bickered on, their voices masking his movements as he rose and slipped into the brush.
The spy never had a chance to cry out. Ralph wrapped his arm about the young man’s neck and stuffed a cloth into his mouth, then lashed his wrists together with a piece of rope.
Ralph dragged the youth by the tunic through the underbrush and shoved him to the ground at Will’s feet.
“Where did he come from?” Diccon asked as he whipped his dagger from his belt.
“Found him in the bushes there.” Ralph removed his prisoner’s knife from its scabbard and pointed the blade toward the path they’d made through the brush. “Spying on us. Will, go find his horse—and have a care, in case he brought company.”
Ralph nudged the youth onto his back and twitched out the gag. Eyes fixed upon Ralph’s misshapen hand, he gulped for breath. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice faint.
“Depends on why you were watching us. Don’t suppose you’d care to tell me?” Ralph grinned in a friendly manner, though he kept the dagger in plain sight.
“My—my name’s Prys. I’m nobody important,” he stammered. “A poor farmer—”
Ralph turned Prys’s hands palm up. No farmer hadhands that pale and soft. “I doubt it.” At the sound of muffled hoofbeats he turned and watched Will lead a saddled horse into the clearing. “And no farmer would own so fine a beast.”
Now that he thought about it, Ralph could see that his captive’s clothing looked like livery. He pressed the knife against Prys’s throat. “Did you follow us from Bryn Du?” he growled.
Prys trembled, but made no reply.
Ralph shoved the blade harder, until blood seeped from the shallow cut. “Answer me.”
“Huw said to follow you,” Prys replied quickly. “See where you went. Lord Steff—” The word ended in a croak. Ralph eased up on the blade and Prys tried again. “Wants to know where the woman is.”
Ralph moved the knife and sat back on his heels, allowing Prys to wriggle away from him. “I know nothing else, I swear! I only came because Huw made me. Let me join you,” he pleaded. “I can’t go back now. They’ll kill me.”
Will stepped closer. “’Tis a good idea, Ralph. We need more men.”
“Aye, Ralph,” Diccon piped up. “Lord Steffan’d never know. ‘Sides, he owes us—since he won’t give us our money, we’ll take his servant.”
Hope brightened Prys’s wan face, but Ralph refused to be swayed. Leaning forward, he grasped the youth by the shoulder. “Sorry, lad,” he said as he plunged the dagger to the hilt
“Ralph,” Will gasped, mouth flapping. “What did you do that for?”
“Are you mad?” Ralph asked. He wiped the blade against Prys’s tunic, then stood and dragged the body into the bushes. “What if he went back to Bryn Du once heknew what really happened to the woman? Could be that Lord Steffan ordered him to find a way to join our band. ’Tisn’t a risk I wanted to take.”
He’d had enough of this, and these fools. “Come on—time to go. We’ve lingered here too long.” His movements jerky, he untied his horse and swung into the saddle, then snatched the reins of Prys’s mount from Will’s grasp. “This has been nothin’ but trouble from the start,” he said with disgust. “Least we’ve got the loot from the ambush. Should be worth somethin’.”
Not bothering to wait until Diccon and Will mounted up, Ralph urged the horses along. “On to Chester. I never want to see this benighted place again.”
Chapter Seven
S aint Winifred save her—vermin had nested in her mouth. Catrin tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat felt dry as dust, and it
A rustling in the bushes caught his attention. Will and Diccon bickered on, their voices masking his movements as he rose and slipped into the brush.
The spy never had a chance to cry out. Ralph wrapped his arm about the young man’s neck and stuffed a cloth into his mouth, then lashed his wrists together with a piece of rope.
Ralph dragged the youth by the tunic through the underbrush and shoved him to the ground at Will’s feet.
“Where did he come from?” Diccon asked as he whipped his dagger from his belt.
“Found him in the bushes there.” Ralph removed his prisoner’s knife from its scabbard and pointed the blade toward the path they’d made through the brush. “Spying on us. Will, go find his horse—and have a care, in case he brought company.”
Ralph nudged the youth onto his back and twitched out the gag. Eyes fixed upon Ralph’s misshapen hand, he gulped for breath. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice faint.
“Depends on why you were watching us. Don’t suppose you’d care to tell me?” Ralph grinned in a friendly manner, though he kept the dagger in plain sight.
“My—my name’s Prys. I’m nobody important,” he stammered. “A poor farmer—”
Ralph turned Prys’s hands palm up. No farmer hadhands that pale and soft. “I doubt it.” At the sound of muffled hoofbeats he turned and watched Will lead a saddled horse into the clearing. “And no farmer would own so fine a beast.”
Now that he thought about it, Ralph could see that his captive’s clothing looked like livery. He pressed the knife against Prys’s throat. “Did you follow us from Bryn Du?” he growled.
Prys trembled, but made no reply.
Ralph shoved the blade harder, until blood seeped from the shallow cut. “Answer me.”
“Huw said to follow you,” Prys replied quickly. “See where you went. Lord Steff—” The word ended in a croak. Ralph eased up on the blade and Prys tried again. “Wants to know where the woman is.”
Ralph moved the knife and sat back on his heels, allowing Prys to wriggle away from him. “I know nothing else, I swear! I only came because Huw made me. Let me join you,” he pleaded. “I can’t go back now. They’ll kill me.”
Will stepped closer. “’Tis a good idea, Ralph. We need more men.”
“Aye, Ralph,” Diccon piped up. “Lord Steffan’d never know. ‘Sides, he owes us—since he won’t give us our money, we’ll take his servant.”
Hope brightened Prys’s wan face, but Ralph refused to be swayed. Leaning forward, he grasped the youth by the shoulder. “Sorry, lad,” he said as he plunged the dagger to the hilt
“Ralph,” Will gasped, mouth flapping. “What did you do that for?”
“Are you mad?” Ralph asked. He wiped the blade against Prys’s tunic, then stood and dragged the body into the bushes. “What if he went back to Bryn Du once heknew what really happened to the woman? Could be that Lord Steffan ordered him to find a way to join our band. ’Tisn’t a risk I wanted to take.”
He’d had enough of this, and these fools. “Come on—time to go. We’ve lingered here too long.” His movements jerky, he untied his horse and swung into the saddle, then snatched the reins of Prys’s mount from Will’s grasp. “This has been nothin’ but trouble from the start,” he said with disgust. “Least we’ve got the loot from the ambush. Should be worth somethin’.”
Not bothering to wait until Diccon and Will mounted up, Ralph urged the horses along. “On to Chester. I never want to see this benighted place again.”
Chapter Seven
S aint Winifred save her—vermin had nested in her mouth. Catrin tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat felt dry as dust, and it
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