Page 78 of The Mercenary

Guy smiled despite Conrad’s pacing. “Then it appears you sent the right man. Though I wonder, if you had not sent me to St. Andrew . . .”

“You mean”—Conrad sat back down—“if I’d gone instead or sent Terric.”

“Bloody hell, brother.”

Finally, a smile from Conrad.

“I hadn’t thought about that at all.” Guy shuddered. “Until now.”

“I do believe she would be Sister Sabine by now.”

Guy grunted. “Because neither of you would have been so bold as to accept the lady’s offer?”

“Nay, because neither Terric nor I would have been foolish enough to allow ourselves to be overheard with such an important message.”

“Remind me why I’m here in this chamber with you rather than in a bed with my wife?”

“We need a plan.”

“Which actually means you have a plan and will kindly share it with me so I can return to Sabine.”

Guy knew he was playing with the earl’s patience.

One of his favorite things to do. Every year, the men of the order had reunited at the Tournament of the North. And Guy had quickly learned he was uniquely qualified to goad their fearless leader.

For his own enjoyment, and for that of the other men.

All but Conrad, of course.

“I do have an idea.”

“Of course you do.”

Conrad ignored him. “Using the archbishop’s document, we gather our supporters to alter the old Charter of Liberties and swear an oath to acknowledge the rights we’re demanding.”

“And demand a meeting with the king?” Guy finished.

“Aye, and demand that he sign and support the new charter.”

“If he refuses to meet us?”

“Then we fight.”

“And if he meets but refuses to sign the document?”

“We fight.”

Guy leaned forward. “The most likely scenario is that we will be fighting against our king before long.”

Conrad looked him square in the eyes. “Aye. It would seem so.”

“We’ll be lucky to maintain our numbers in the face of the pope’s support for John.”

“Aye.”

“If it does come to battle?”

They’d discussed the possibility, of course, but now that the outcome seemed more certain . . .