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Chapter 25

“Do you feel much improved?”

They sat in as secluded a spot as could be found in the inn’s great hall. Braziers stacked with coals from the main hearth kept away the chill that had begun to follow them on their travels. In all, it was a comfortable position, much more so than the previous inn.

“Aye.”

They had just finished eating pottage, bread, and cheese. A pitcher of ale had completed their meal.

“You were saying, about de Chabannes?”

Damned if he could remember.

“Guy?”

“You’re much too distracting.”

Sabine rolled her eyes. “I’ve done nothing to distract you.”

“Mayhap not. But your swollen lips and unkempt hair are doing exactly that.” He leaned forward. “I’m reminded of—”

“My hair is not unkempt.”

Patrons next to them looked their way. But he cared not. Let them look. He was a lucky man, and Guy could not blame them for their curiosity.

So long as their gazes did not linger, of course.

“Very well,” he conceded, nodding his thanks to the serving girl who took away the remnants of their meal. “He’s agreed to come here on the morrow. I’d prefer not to bring you either to the camp or Noreham Castle if either can be avoided.”

Sabine’s top lip glistened as she took a hearty sip of ale. What he wouldn’t give to remove the moisture with his tongue.

“And today?”

“His way of reminding me Bande de Valeur is both well-protected and amply compensated. It will take all of Bishop Salerno’s funds, and more, to accomplish our goal.”

“Can you not simply match whatever amount”—she lowered her voice—“the king has promised?”

Guy wished it were so.

“’Tis not so simple. We both are well aware of how the king deals with those he considers enemies to his rule.”

Sabine frowned. “’Tis tricky, to be sure.”

He was about to respond when the hairs on his neck rose. Spinning in his seat, Guy turned just in time to catch the unmistakable view of four men wearing the emblem of three lions on their surcoats.

They sat on the other side of the hall, out of Sabine’s line of sight.

“What is it?”

His hand moved to the hilt of his sword.

“King’s men. Four of them.”

Sabine’s eyes widened.

“Listen carefully,” he said to his wife. “I want you to wait until someone walks by us. When they do, step out in front of them and make your way to the stairs. Bolt yourself inside our room, and do not answer for anyone.”

Her eyes widened. “And if they are here for you? For us? Will they not break down the door?”