Page 34 of The Scot

“Your loyalty is to the order above all,” Terric said. “Even your wife.”

Lance chuckled.

“I do not remember that in the oath we took.” His smiled fled. “Either time.”

Terric did not wish to talk of that first occasion, although it seemed many of their conversations ended up touching upon their initial meeting.

“We said it,” he nodded, firm. “I remember that part clearly.”

“I don’t believe we did.”

“You will tell me what you know.”

“I don’t believe I will.”

“Lancelin.”

He hated his given name, but he merely scowled at the mention of it. It was clear he did not intend to reveal his information. Frustrated though not terribly surprised, Terric turned to glance at Gilbert—and saw his marshal was pointing toward the North Gate.

Terric squinted.

“Who is it?” Lance asked.

He could not tell yet. But the man’s face slowly came into view. And from the newcomer’s quickening pace, Terric knew the news was not good.