Page 33 of The Champion

“Our enemies haunt us,” Will said.

“Aye,” Stryder agreed. “I think we should set up sentries, after this, to ensure no more of us die.”

Val scratched at his cheek. “How many members of the Brotherhood are here?”

Stryder sighed. “With Cyril dead, there’s only us and Christian.”

“Nay,” Raven said quietly. “I saw Talbard of Devonshire earlier this morn. He rode in late last eventide.”

“Then there are seven of us,” Stryder said. “Inform Talbard of what has happened and have him bunk near us. I’ll take the first shift tonight, then we can alternate watch.”

They nodded in agreement.

“Just like old times.” Swan reminded them all of the days in their youth when they had drawn straws to see who would be sentries against their enemies.

Racen looked sick at the prospect. “Let us hope not. I’ve no desire to return to being frightened of my very shadow.”

Val draped a long, brotherly arm over his shoulders. “Have no fear, whelp, I’ll see you to manhood yet.”

Swan grimaced. “Mayhap I should take up the first guard.”

Stryder shook his head. “I will do it. We need to be wary of everyone here. Remember, there is an enemy among us.”

They nodded.

Inclining his head, Stryder made his way from his tent, toward the castle.

His intent was to speak to Henry, but he’d no more entered the castle than he’d run headlong into Rowena who was simultaneously trying to dash out the door.

The impact of her soft curves against him was as exciting as it was shocking. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms about her to keep her from falling.

Her face was flush, her eyes bright and shining. But more than that, her breathlessness conjured images in his mind of what she would look like in the throes of passion.

Indeed, it was all he could do to not capture those parted lips with his own and see just how breathless he could make her.

“My lady, we must stop meeting like this.”

Her face turned instantly red. “It seems I am ever unbalanced in your lordship’s presence.”

He rumbled a low laugh at that. He felt much the same way around her.

She looked up at him with a searing gaze that made his groin tight and heavy. Aching. “But I am beginning to suspect my maids might be right about one thing...”

“And that is?” he asked as he set her back on her feet.

“Strong arms do have their uses at such times.”

Her unexpected words made him a bit nervous. Was that truly a compliment from a woman who professed to hate all knights?

He looked about as if expecting the Second Coming.

“Are you all right, my lord?”

“Aye, but a compliment from you makes me fear that my death may be imminent.”

She laughed at that. “If your death is imminent ‘tis from that sword you carry and not from my tongue.”

He arched a brow at her, but before he could speak, she continued, “I promised you that I would insult you no more. Therefore, my claws are effectively sheathed.”