Chapter Seventeen #2
David shrugged. “We all know that Cheltenham is an ambitious man,” he said.
“I’ve never liked him, but fortunately, I’ve not had many dealings with him.
However, now he is proving deadly to the House of de Lohr.
His daughter would be Roi’s widow, and she would inherit his wealth.
She would take that into a marriage to Cirencester’s son. ”
“And Cirencester’s son becomes the next earl.”
“That is reason enough to kill a man, isn’t it?”
Christopher sat heavily in the nearest chair.
The thought of a man he had wined and dined plotting to kill one of his sons was absolutely horrifying to him.
It was also enraging. Once he overcame his shock, the fury began to take hold.
The Christopher de Lohr of old was not a man who would take such a thing lying down.
The Christopher de Lohr who served King Richard in the Levant, who actively fought against Richard’s brother, John, and who had been one of the deadliest knights in England’s history, wasn’t going to take any of this lying down.
As far as he was concerned, Cheltenham had committed an unforgiveable sin against him.
The man was going to pay.
His attention moved to the three knights who were still in the chamber. Magnus, Aeron, and Tiegh were Executioner Knights. They were spies and assassins, men who did the dirty work necessary to keep England strong.
Or avenge enemies.
And that gave Christopher an idea.
“Good knights,” he said in a voice that was a little more than a growl. “It is possible that I require your services.”
Tiegh stood up. “My lord?”
Christopher sat back in his chair, letting the rage of revenge fill his veins. To keep his family safe, he would do anything.
Anything.
“As you have heard, the Earl of Cheltenham has plotted the death of my son,” he said.
“I am an old man. I have seen many things. I have tolerated many things. But the one thing I will not tolerate is a man who plots to destroy those I love. Robin le Bec is a poor excuse for a warrior and an even poorer excuse for an earl. Now, he threatens my family. This I cannot abide.”
“How may we be of service, my lord?” Tiegh said.
“He must be dealt with.”
“How, my lord?”
“I think you know.”
Now, the knights were catching on. Magnus, who had been standing by the windows, watching the activity in the bailey, came away from the window and moved in Christopher’s direction.
He was sharp, like his father, but more than that, he was deadly as well.
Maxton of Loxbeare would kill on command with complete ease.
No questions, no mess, no conscience. He was one of the finest assassins to bear the Executioner Knights moniker.
And Magnus was like his father in every way.
“Even if you thwart his attempt to kill Roi this time, there will be a next time, my lord,” Magnus said. “Roi will live the rest of his life fearful that his wife’s father will eventually succeed in killing him.”
“Exactly my thoughts, Magnus.”
“That is no way for a man to live, my lord.”
“Indeed, it is not.”
“For Roi’s health and happiness, you must protect your son.”
“Any way I can.”
“Give the word, my lord, and it will be our honor to protect Roi for you.”
That was what Christopher had been waiting to hear. All three of them were standing in front of him, their expressions serious as well as composed. There was a serenity to them, suggesting that they knew exactly what was coming and were relishing the opportunity to have a hand in it.
That was what the Executioner Knights did.
This was their battlefield.
“It is my suspicion that Cheltenham will not lead his army into a skirmish,” he said. “If he is not present at Roi’s death, he can say with a clear conscience that he was at Cicadia Castle when Roi was killed. That eliminates him as a suspect.”
“It gives him plausible deniability, my lord.”
“Precisely,” Christopher said. “Therefore, I believe you can find Robin le Bec at Cheltenham. If he is not there, of course, you know where to find him—near Colesborne. But I would go to Cicadia first.”
Magnus nodded sharply. “How far is it?”
Christopher pointed to the road outside the walls of Lioncross. “Take the road all the way to Gloucester,” he said. “Cheltenham is just beyond Gloucester, to the east. You will not arrive until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“Understood, my lord.”
Christopher lingered on the trio for a moment before averting his gaze. “Go forth,” he finally whispered. “No trace.”
The three knights slipped from the chamber, heading out to collect their horses and ride to Cicadia Castle.
Knowing that he had just signed Cheltenham’s death warrant didn’t bother Christopher in the least. If it was between Roi’s life and Robin le Bec’s, there was only one choice Christopher could make.
Only one choice he would make.
He turned to David.
“God help us if Roi has already left for Cirencester’s ambush,” he muttered.
David sighed faintly. “Let us pray he has not,” he said. “The lads… they will get to him in time. I would not worry.”
Christopher rolled his eyes. “That is an impossible bit of advice,” he said. “Of course I am going to worry. But I will tell you one thing, David.”
“What?”
“I do not regret sending Loxbeare and de Dere to eliminate the root of the problem.”
David snorted softly. “If you had not asked them to do it, I was going to do it myself.”
Christopher looked at him, his eyes glimmering dully. “Don’t you think you’re a little old?”
David pursed his lips wryly. “I would not be so smug if I were you,” he said. “I’m still younger than you are.”
“At our age, that means nothing.”
They started to laugh at one another, an unexpected moment of levity in a situation that had them both on edge. But as the laughter died away, Christopher fixed on his brother.
“It’s not just Cheltenham, you know,” he said quietly. “Cirencester is a threat as well. He may be moving on Cheltenham’s orders, but he is most definitely a threat. His son is the one who would benefit the most from Roi’s death.”
David thought on that before standing up and moving for the door. Christopher watched him go.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
David looked at him. “To tell the other Executioner Knight that very good point,” he said. “Let the Loxbeare brothers and de Dere handle Cheltenham. I would say Peter might be interested in taking care of Cirencester himself. For his brother.”
Christopher nodded faintly, feeling sick and saddened by the entire situation. “For his brother,” he whispered. “And David?”
“What is it?”
“Do not tell Dustin,” he said quietly. “If one of us must shoulder the burden of worry before we have any news, let it be me.”
David understood. He left the solar to speak with Peter and the others, and everyone who was bound for Cicadia, Pembridge, or other points east was cleared out of the bailey within the hour.
The long wait, for Christopher, had begun.