Page 57 of Forbidden

For the space of a breath, Erik paused. Then he smiled faintly and turned back to the hauberk that had recently been hung in the armory.

“A fine hauberk,” Erik said.

“Your armorer repaired the chain mail so deftly that it is better than when new,” Simon said.

“My armorer’s skill is famed throughout the Disputed Lands,” Erik said matter-of-factly.

“Justly so. Will he make Duncan a sword and dagger, and a chain-mail hauberk and hood to take into battle?”

“He will have to,” Erik said in a dry tone. “There isn’t a hauberk already made in all of the islands that will fit Duncan’s breadth of shoulder.”

“There is one,” Duncan said absently.

“Oh?”

“Dominic le Sabre’s,” Duncan said.

Amber looked intently at him, but said nothing, for she feared the consequences if his memory returned.

Simon stared with equal intensity at Duncan, yet asked no questions for the same reason.

Erik, however, didn’t fear Duncan’s memory returning.

“Then you have seen the infamous Norman?” Erik asked.

“Yes.”

“When?”

Duncan opened his mouth to answer before he realized that he didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” he said in a clipped voice. “I simply know that I have.”

Erik shot a quick glance at Amber. She looked back at him in silence.

“Is your memory returning?” Erik asked.

Simon and Amber held their breath.

“Fragments. No more,” Duncan said.

“What does that mean?”

Duncan shrugged, winced at the discomfort to his bruised body, and prodded his chest with impatient fingers.

A pity that she isn’t here to take the ache with her clever balms and lotions.

Then Duncan heard his own thoughts and froze, wondering who “she” was.

Green eyes.

The smell of Glendruid herbs.

Water warmed for bathing.

The scent of her soap.

“Duncan?” Erik pressed. “Are your memories returning?”