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“Never draw your sword in the bailey of Northwood unless you are prepared to die for the action,” his voice was like cold steel. “The women you were preparing to gore with that spear of yours is the future Countess of Teviot and her cousin.”

“My apologies, captain, but I have just come from the enemy, and when I heard the burr….” he trailed off helplessly.

William ignored the explanation, although he understood somewhat. “How many men would you estimate you have lost? And how many Scots were there?”

“We carry four hundred and thirty-two men, sire,” the soldier said, weaving with fatigue. “I would guess that we had lost one hundred by the time I left with the missive. As for the Scots, ’tis hard to say. Mayhap as many as five hundred. They were everywhere, my lord.”

William nodded, absorbing the information. Finally he turned to his gathered men. “Paris, assemble six hundred men and a full complement of wagons. Kieran, send a missive to Hawkgrove Castle and ask Earl Lowell for one hundred and fifty reinforcements for our skeleton guard here at home. Deinwald, mount the archers. If we can leave within the hour, we shall make it to The Lyceum by nightfall.” As each man was delivered his orders, he dismissed himself and was gone. “Michael and Marc, deliver the ladies to their rooms with a proper guard and then assemble with the knights in the war room. Be gone.”

The knights and anyone else in the bailey quickly scattered to do William’s bidding. Jordan caught a glimpse of his dark head as he led the soldiers from The Lyceum away with him.

Jordan didn’t want him fighting anyone else’s war. She needed him here, with her, safe. Her apprehensions only increased when she saw the soldiers around her moving with determination, checking weapons and strapping on armor. ’Twould be too tragic if something were to happen and…she squeezed her eyes tightly to block out that train of thought.

Michael, holding her close to him, felt her head lay to rest on his shoulder and wondered if she were again feeling poorly.

He insisted on depositing her directly on her bed, although she could have well walked from the antechamber. He ordered her to stay abed with gentle gruffness and ordered Jemma to support his demand. Jordan thanked him sweetly, wishing he would leave so that she could go to the window and look out for William. Marc reminded Jemma to bolt the door after they left, which she gladly did just to be rid of their hovering.

There were three men-at-arms guarding her door, all of them older seasoned veterans, faithful to the core. Michael sternly reminded them to guard Lady Jordan with their very lives, unnecessary words but spoken for the knight’s peace of minds.

The soldiers agreed with impatient smirks, one of them commenting that they were protecting a lady, in fact, not the damn Holy Grail. Marc told him that if protecting the Holy Grail resulted in failure, the wrath would be from God. Should protecting Lady Jordan result in failure, the wrath would be from The Wolf.

The smirks faded and the gravity of the situation came to life. Satisfied with the proper look of obedience on the soldier’s faces, Michael and Marc left to go about their assigned duties in preparation for the rapid deployment.

*

William sat in the war room with de Longley, with all of his knights, and the three soldiers from The Lyceum. The earl was gravely concerned about the status of his friend Lord Harringham and gave his blessing for the show of support. In these matters it was always William who gave the commands and made the decisions; the earl’s approval was a mere formality. De Longley’s strong suit was not military operations, but rather politics. That was why he and William made such a compatible pair. William possessed the might and the intelligence to follow through, and de Longley was the cunning diplomat.

With the majority of the urgent matters settled, William’s attention turned to Jordan. As a rule, when the army went in to battle, all of the knights rode with the troops and a mere shell of a company was left at Northwood headed by a senior man-at-arms. Generally, it was the same man, an older capable soldier named Bartholomew. He had been with de Longley longer than William had been and had proven himself quite competent when the captain and the guard were away.

Bartholomew had been severely injured once in battle and had lost part of a hand, but that did not prevent him from maintaining a strong home-front in William’s absence, Although Bartholomew would never admit that he preferred remaining behind when the troops went on maneuver, William knew that without four fingers the old soldier felt like half a man. Therefore, he was saving face and doing him a favor when William insisted he needed him to remain behind to guard the fortress.

The old soldier would again be left in charge of the skeleton company, but this time William wanted to leave a knight behind as well to be charged entirely with Jordan’s safety. He had yet to broach the subject and was unsure as to how it would be received.

The soldiers from The Lyceum were rested enough to ride back with Northwood’s army. William was leaning casually against the wall by the window open to the outer bailey, listening to de Longley’s chatter. He knew the earl was concerned about his friend, but there was no time for idle talk.

“The time is now,” William announced to his fully-armored knights. When the men stood poised, ready for the final word, William turned away from the window. “However, there is one concern remaining. I wish to leave one of my knights here to guard Lady Jordan. I will insist upon this, but I will not force anyone unless I have to. I would prefer to take a volunteer.”

His statement was met with silence. De Longley looked at his captain, disturbed that his future bride was not even safe in her own home.

“This is necessary, William?” he asked softly.

“Aye, sire, it is,” he replied. “I do not relish the thought of going into battle without my full complement of knights, but Lady Jordan’s safety is of primary concern to me, as it is to you. With the majority of the knights away, ’tis possible that there might be another attempt on her life. She might not be so lucky a second time.”

He didn’t want to have to order anyone to stay. It would be much easier all the way around if someone, anyone, volunteered. He would have gladly stayed if he could have, but it was out of the question.

The silence was growing uncomfortable. Fearing that he was indeed going to have to issue an order and deciding who would best fill the need, William pushed himself off of the wall and opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off.

“I shall stay.” It was Ranulf.

William was surprised. Ranulf was his oldest knight, but certainly one of his most aggressive. The man lived for a good fight. To hear him volunteer for sitting duty was astonishing to the point of amusement. But before William could acknowledge him, he was interrupted again.

“Nay, old man, I shall stay,” Deinwald said curtly.

Ranulf’s bushy red mustache twitched menacingly. “I volunteered first, lad. You should have spoken sooner.”

Deinwald tried to intimidate him by staring him down; a useless tactic. Ranulf was a master at intimidation. Kieran stepped between them.

“I will solve this right now,” he said amiably. “I shall stay and you both can go.”