Page 35
Another step. Burge’s men placed their hands on the hilts of their swords. If they chose a fight, Guy would give them one.
“Tell your men to stand down, or this day will be the last they see the sun.”
No one liked that particular proclamation. Least of all Burge. He laughed, as if Guy had made a jest, but its tone rang false. Bravado only served a man prepared to fight. And though he had the numbers, Burge had not come here to do battle.
Guy, on the other hand, had done nothing else for his entire life.
“You are one man against five.”
He’d have turned to smile at Sabine—hadn’t she said much the same thing to him the previous day?—but he didn’t dare shift his gaze off Burge’s men.
“A fact that matters even less to me than your opinion of our nuptials.”
Burge hesitated.
Guy took advantage. Before any of the men could manage a response, he’d withdrawn his sword, the point of which now pricked the bastard’s neck.
“At your first movement,” he said to the others but with his eyes trained on Burge, “your master dies at my hand.”
“Please,” Sabine begged from behind. “He’s killed one man already on this journey. Leave me be and do as Sir Guy asks. Visit St. Mary’s and speak with the priest. I am well and truly married.”
Guy smiled at Burge, silently thanking his wife for ensuring the baron knew his rank. Though it mattered little to him, such things could sway a man who cared for titles. And though he had no doubt Burge would kill a fellow knight, especially one who had a sword to his throat, it was a detail that could sway his thinking.
“Drop it,” he growled to Burge.
Clearly not pleased, he took a step back as Guy lowered his sword.
The man’s shoulders rose and fell, his eyes flashing in anger. But he said nothing. Then, nodding silently to his men, he took another step backward without turning around.
Smart man.
“She owes recompense for the coin paid to the abbey,” Burge ground out.
“Nay,” Sabine answered. “I owe you nothing.”
Burge needed a dignified way out, and Guy gave him one.
“I’ve instructed Father Wheeland to give you an original manuscript of Tibericus Psalter. Keep it, sell it. I care not. Consider it your recompense for Lady Sabine’s hasty departure.”
Burge’s eyes widened. “I shall believe a man such as yourself would be in possession of such a manuscript?”
“Was in possession of it. The book was once given to me by a member of the French court, but aye, you will find it is authentic.”
This is your chance, Burge.
Lifting his chin, the baron mumbled something about verifying the truth of his words, but Guy had stopped listening. He turned toward his wife, watching her face to ensure Burge and his men did not act foolishly. By the time he reached her side and took her arm, the men had disappeared into the stables.
Without waiting for them to emerge, Guy escorted Sabine back into the hall. He did ensure they could see the stables from the table they chose. By the time a serving girl brought them a loaf of freshly baked bread, Burge and his men had ridden away.
“I’ve two questions,” Sabine finally asked.
“Only two?”
She made a face that he was beginning to enjoy even if it was meant to discourage his behavior.
“How did you intend to engage with all five men if they attacked you? And why did you give Father Wheeland an original text of one of the most famous French manuscripts in existence?”
He took a bite of bread and followed it with a swig of ale before answering.
