Page 74 of The Thornwyck Rose

Geoffrey shuffled behind him. Jovin scoffed under his breath. Their reactions reminded Erik how much Geoffrey wanted him dead to regain his prestige, and Jovin, seeking revenge for his aunt’s execution.

Henry’s eyes narrowed and held David back from Seren.

It should have been Erik bleeding. Not her, but he forced himself to keep Henry’s glare and not look at the woman who held the other half of his heart.

“This is why you are my commander,” Henry said to Erik. “Your strategic mind wins battles. You know your value and are willing to gamble. I can respect that.”

Henry stepped closer.

“No harm will come to your boy. He will train with the other boys and sleep in the barracks. Baldwinand Reynard will train him, but if he disobeys, he will be punished just as any other man-at-arms. But a deal is a deal, I will not take away his future.”

Ragnar stiffened.

Erik lifted his chin. “Do I have your word sworn before your God?”

Henry scoffed. “Is my word not good enough, Payen?”

Pagan.That’s what the Norman name meant, and the way Henry said it was to demean and dismiss his request.

But Father Osbert rose from his bench near the corridor entry in the corner of the great hall.

All eyes turned to him.

He did not speak at first, did not raise his voice or step toward the dais, but he crossed himself in a slow and deliberate manner.

“Lord Henry,” he addressed the tyrant. “You have spilled innocent blood in the presence of your son,” Father Osbert said softly, voice like slow-turning iron. “What they learn here is not obedience, my lord—it is fear. And this type of fear bears no loyalty.”

Henry turned his glare on him. “Do not preach at me, priest.”

Father Osbert lowered his eyes. “I am not preaching, my lord. I offer only prayer.”

He bowed his head, but not before Erik saw the tension in his jaw, the slight tremor in his hands.

Father Osbert’s eyes found Seren, crumpled on the floor, then flicked once to Ragnar and David, sharing their silent burden.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, watches,” Father Osbert said. “Your servant asks for your word before God Almighty. Will you give it?”

Henry scoffed first, but at Father Osbert’s silence, he laughed once and bared his teeth in a sneer.

“Yes, Payen de Montfort, you have my sworn word before God I will not maim or kill your son, but if he is to be a knight, then he will be a knight just like his father.”

Erik lowered the blade from Ragnar’s neck. The footstepsbehind him disbanded. Chairs creaked. They would all live for now.

Erik sheathed his blade with hands that did not feel like his own.

Henry had given his word. He’d kept it all these years, and Erik had made him swear it before his deity. The vain, outwardly pious man would have to keep it, and Erik would have to believe that, or pretend to.

For Ragnar. For Seren. For David. For Aveline, Vala, and the child to come.

The woman he loved was bleeding on the floor, and the boy who bore his name had nearly earned a life maimed.

Erik had survived battlefields, but nothing felt more like war than this.

XXVI

THE FOURTH CHILD

THORNWYCK KEEP, JULY 1091