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“Tell yourself as well, English lord Sherwood,” Sinan replied.
The baron’s face paled at the use of his title. The Assassins’ leader’s gaze was level and unmoving. Sherwood gave a small, nervous bow, then made a sharp gesture to Tadhg and left the tent without a word.
Tadhg followed.
The sun was near to the horizon, and a cool evening breeze was already slicing low across the land. The moon was rising, sickle-sharp and bone white against a deepening blue sky. Tension rolled through Tadhg as they swiftly mounted up, then spurred off. They cantered down a long slope and up another. He glanced back over his shoulder, but there was no tent anymore, no fida’i warriors, just low-scrub grasses, rolling hills and a darkening sky overhead. It might have all been a dream. Except for the fact Lord Sherwood was at his side. There was no dream that would include this fetid, ambitious man.
“What was that all about?”
“Diplomacy.”
“Aye?” Tadhg said amiably. “For it looked as though we bought something.”
Sherwood’s gaze snapped over. “Does the king pay you to ask questions?” he demanded, flicking his reins impatiently. “No. You’re paid to be quick with a blade and keep your mouth shut. So do it.”
Right. So, now Tadhg knew one thing: they had indeed bought something. And as there was only one thing he knew of that a man could buy from the leader of the Assassins, that narrowed things down immeasurably.
MAGDALENA TOUCHED THE RUBY with her fingertip. “So this is it, the ruby in the chest you carried?”
Tadhg’s gaze glanced off the gemstone. “That is it. After that, I watched Sherwood closely, all but attached myself to him.” His voice fell away.
“And?”
“And that is why I saw him walking with Conrad, two days before he was to be crowned, as two Assassins disguised as monks stabbed Conrad in the belly while he walked the gardens of Tyre. Sherwood was at his side.”
Her mouth rounded into a circle of shock, her eyes widened in horror. Tadhg did not know how she could go on looking at him. He’d have looked away a long time ago.
“But if you knew…didn’t everyone else know, too? Did no one see the dagger, the gem inside it…did no one read the runes? Did they not see it, and know?”
“Aye, a few of them saw it.”
“Then…?”
“Then it disappeared.”
“You took it,” she whispered. “To protect your king.”
“No. Sherwood took it. He knelt beside Conrad while he was still alive. He removed the dagger and thrust another back in.” She made a sound of horror. “Not to protect the king. To extort him.”
SOMETHING BROKE in Tadhg then. He’d spent his entire life climbing up from the simple, humble life he’d been born to, the fire in his belly demanding more than chores in the dirt and cows chewing their cud. He’d climbed so high he’d aligned himself with a golden king and the lordly nobles around him, and it had all come to this. Hired death. He was hired death.
Perhaps there was nothing higher, nothing better, but if there was, he realized he would never find it here, amid zealous nobles and golden kings and their ambitions and their wars.
Something that had been sawed at for years inside him, simply broke free, like a line snapping off a shi
p.
He watched, motionless and numb, as chaos erupted in the gardens below. The guards and Sherwood encircled the bleeding body of Conrad. Sherwood shouted orders, and the soldiers staggered off, some in pursuit of the fleeing Assassins, others into the castle proper, shouting for help. Leaving Sherwood alone with Conrad.
Sherwood got to his feet, stared down a moment, then in a decisive move, shoved the bloody dagger under his cloak and ran off, waving his arms and shouting.
Tadhg stared. Had he gone mad?
A crowd of men appeared at the other end of the garden, armed and shouting. Sherwood turned to them, looking wild, waving his arms, crying out, “Someone stole the weapon! After him! After him!” Then he took off running, out of the garden.
The bastard. What was he up to?
All hell broke loose in Tyre. Armed men and nobles ran hither and yon through the gardens and citadel, on the hunt for the murderers, who were soon caught, and an elusive thief, who could not be found. As for the missing murder weapon, Conrad’s guards reported they’d only caught a glimpse of it. And yet…and yet…they swore it looked to have had King Richard’s ruby embedded in its hilt.
