Page 111 of A Knight’s Reward

“Lord de Lanceau!” she shrieked.

De Lanceau looked back at her, just as the man spurred his mount to a canter. He was headed into Clovebury. He would easily be lost in the maze of streets.

She pointed at the thug. “Crenardieu’s man!”

“Aldwin!” de Lanceau snapped, wheeling his steed around while motioning to other men-at-arms. “You are with me. Gisela, wait here with the rest.”

De Lanceau, Aldwin, and five others raced toward the town. Dust blew up from the road, motes glittering in the early dawn light.

She yearned to kick her horse into motion, to rush with them into the pursuit. The thug likely knew where his cohorts had taken Dominic. The sooner he divulged that critical information, the sooner they rescued Dominic. However, she knew naught about chasing criminals eager to avoid capture, and might well hinder rather than help the pursuit. Far wiser to obey de Lanceau and stay put.

The pounding of hooves faded. Moving their horses closer to each other, the other men-at-arms talked amongst themselves. The breeze whispered through the meadow, stirring the grasses and sleepy wildflowers raising their heads toward the sun. How empty the meadow seemed, save for a few birds flitting between the branches of the huge tree.

Anxiety gnawed at her, making her belly gurgle. After checking her satchel was still securely fastened to her saddle, Gisela looked at the nearest man-at-arms, who had leaned forward to pat his horse’s neck. He gave her a kindly smile.

“Will they catch that man?”

“Aye. De Lanceau is a very clever lord. He will not let him get away.”

Moments passed. The sun crept higher in the sky, spreading light across the meadow and taking the chill from the early morning. Just when she thought she could bear the waiting no longer, riders appeared on the road. She recognized de Lanceau in the lead, with Aldwin and the others close behind.

When they drew nearer, she saw the lackey riding between them, his mount pinned in the center of the group. His hands were bound to his saddle. Sullen, he refused to meet her gaze.

“Milord,” Gisela said, words rushing from her lips. “Does he know where⁠—”

De Lanceau raised a hand. “I gave him the journey here to decide whether to speak of his own will.” Glancing at the man, he said, “Well?”

The lackey’s lips flattened.

Flicking his hand, de Lanceau said, “Tie his horse to that tree, Aldwin.”

The man glanced at the tall oak de Lanceau had indicated, which shaded part of the verge. Worry shadowed his gaze.

“Aldwin is extremely skilled with a crossbow,” de Lanceau went on in a mild tone, while Aldwin led the lackey’s horse to the oak and secured the reins to one of the lower boughs. “A few years ago, he almost killed me with a bolt through the chest. That took place the day I fought my lady wife’s father for the great keep at Wode.” He smiled. “Aldwin fired a clean shot from a good distance away. Do you recall that battle? ’Tis mentioned in many chansons here in Moydenshire.”

Sweat began to run down the man’s temple. Aldwin guided his horse away, leaving the man alone on the verge. Glancing down at his bound hands, he struggled to get free.

“Aldwin is so skilled, he can shoot the ears right off your head. One by one. Then shoot holes clean through each of your arms. Not intending to kill you, of course. Nay, he would render you helpless, toy with you for long, painful moments before that happened. He enjoys making his victims suffer. And the blood⁠—”

Covering her mouth, Gisela fought a horrified gasp.

As though noting her distress, de Lanceau glanced at her… and winked.

His expression grim, Aldwin rode a short distance down the road toward the river. Then, he turned his horse and halted.

The lackey whimpered.

With an ease that bespoke his mastery of the weapon, Aldwin picked up the crossbow, fitted with a deadly, steel-tipped bolt. The man’s eyes bulged.

His gaze narrowing, Aldwin aimed the weapon.

The lackey moaned.

“Tell us where to find Crenardieu and Dominic,” de Lanceau said, “and spare yourself torment.”

“Aaahhh—”

The trigger clicked. The bolt hissed from the crossbow. Whizzing past the man’s head, it lodged in the tree beside him with a thwack. Bark flew off the trunk, hitting the man on the arm.