Page 80 of The Mercenary

Sabine bowed her head in awe at the sudden and complete silence. When Guy reached for her hand, she gave it to him gladly. The seriousness of this moment suddenly scared her. Of course, she’d known all along what they were doing. The day Noreham’s men had come for Guy wrestled in her brain with the memory of learning her parents were never returning home.

But the past two months had also been so full of love and joy. Though they’d not stayed in one place long, Sabine found she didn’t mind at all. She was becoming accustomed to the life they would hopefully someday lead when all of this was behind them and Guy had his own mercenary company to command.

When he was finished, Guy released her. And though he did not move his hand to the sword at his side, she knew him well enough to know he was preparing for the worst.

“We gather here today,” Conrad boomed, “to pledge an oath upon this altar. The charter that we’ve altered together, the agreement that we’ve forged . . .” He paused, and Sabine exchanged a glance with Idalia. “It will be presented to our sovereign. It is the will of all those present for King John to accept the Charter of Liberties, a proclamation of King Henry, here modified by each of us. And if he will not”—she could see Conrad now through a break in the crowd—“we will gain the support we need to remove him as our king.”

Somehow, even after all the discussions they’d had over the past weeks, Sabine wasn’t prepared for his words.

Every man, and woman, in this room was now an enemy to King John’s rule. This day would become a part of history, though Sabine had no idea on which side they would land.

The victors?

Or the defeated?

“Come.” Guy pulled her hand once more.

She hadn’t heard the rest of Conrad’s words, but at Guy’s insistence, she followed him toward the front of the chapel. One by one, those ahead of them placed a hand on the altar and repeated the same words.

But Lance, Idalia, Terric, and Conrad had not yet done so.

They stood to the side, as did she and Guy when they finally made their way to the front.

Finally, it was their turn. As one, they placed their hands together upon the altar, with Langton looking on.

Conrad led the recitation and they joined in:

“Ut suscitem iuramentum est iurare per Deum invoco hodie datum est.”

So it was done.

And just like before, when they’d entered the chapel, Sabine endured less than friendly glances from some of the men, with the exception of Robert Fitzwalter, who apparently had no qualms about women being involved in this endeavor. His secret smile as he walked by made her heart swell thinking of her father. Sabine caught up with Idalia.

“We need to get them away from here, and swiftly,” Lance said.

Idalia looked back to her husband.

“If a blacksmith and a mercenary belong, surely we do as well.”

They stood to the side at the front of the chapel as the men filtered out.

“Surely, though I do not believe all who are present agree with you.”

Idalia did not appear concerned.

“Some would say ’tis not so coveted, a place at this gathering.”

“And others,” the Scot replied, sidling up to them, “would say ’tis the most coveted gathering of them all.”

Terric Kennaugh, chief of Clan Kennaugh and Earl of Dromsley.

Sabine had met him just the day before. The man was massive. Bigger than all of the others. He did not smile as easily as Guy, though thankfully not as rarely as Lance. Sabine had asked her new friend how she endured her husband’s seemingly never-ending frowns.

“That,” she’d said in response to Sabine’s jest, “is Lance’s happy face.”

The women had laughed so hard Sabine’s stomach hurt.

“Aye, so coveted hardly any remain just moments after taking their oath,” Idalia quipped back.