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Bracing himself for his friend’s anger, Henry closed his eyes. “Ruby discovered us in the north tower. She forged an agreement with Ivy. I know not what was said, but she released her and vowed she would take responsibility for the maid should it come to light.”
When the strike did not come, Henry opened his eyes. Crispin rose to his feet and paced the small cell. His curses echoed off the stone. When he finally paused, he spun to face Henry.
“How could you allow her to be so reckless?” Crispin shouted, rage consuming him. “You should have brought Ivy to me.” His fists clenched tight. If he held a sword, Henry would most surely have felt the blade.
After a time, Crispin’s pacing slowed, his shouts became muttered curses, and Henry was finally able to relax without fear of Crispin turning on him in blind anger.
“I should have stopped her, my lord.” Henry studied the dirt and blood caked upon his knuckles. “I was wrong to keep Ivy’s treachery from you.” He shook his head suppressing the tears once more. “Forgive me.”
Crispin raked his hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. “What is done cannot be undone. But so help me, Henry, I cannot fathom why you would keep something such as this from me.”
“I love her, sire.” Henry’s confession rang through the room.
“Of all the wenches in the kingdom, you give your heart to a spy and a traitor.” Crispin scoffed. “Seems only fitting since your family betrayed the crown that you would choose a woman who would do the same.”
Henry suppressed the heated rage filling him. “I knew nothing of my family’s involvement in the raid meant to kill Ruby as a child. After everything we have encountered together, I remained by your side, steadfast and loyal to my own detriment.” His hands balled into fists and his heart pounded hard against his ribs. “You think a pretty face is enough to tempt me to betray my king and country?”
Crispin regarded him thoughtfully. “I think you are human and as easily swayed as any other man when presented with a willing wench in his bed.”
“Damn you,” Henry spat, his hands trembling as the fury poured through him. “Have I not sacrificed enough to sate your demands for loyalty and honor?”
“You have sacrificed much, Henry. I do not question your loyalty, merely your reasoning and logic.” Crispin grew solemn. “Did it not occur to you to be wary of anyone who sought your companionship? You are my right hand, my confidant, and my sole friend. If my enemies wished to get to me, they would surely use you. Did you not consider Ivy might be such a ruse to distract you from your duty? To gain entrance or allay your suspicions?”
Henry shut his eyes, wishing himself a thousand miles from this cell. “Every day I harbored these fears, bore them as a shield to protect myself. But Ivy...did not approach me. I seduced her. How was I to know the truth?”
“When you found her in my presence chamber unattended.” Crispin’s accusation hung between them. “You should have brought her directly to me. I would have dealt with it accordingly.”
His heart seized at the idea of Ivy facing punishment, even after her betrayals. He could not bring himself to cast her aside for the wolves to devour. “I should have, sire. I cannot undo the past, nor can I say with any certainty I would have done any differently should I have the opportunity to alter the past.”
Crispin caught his head in his hands and groaned. “Tell me you had no knowledge of her agreement with Francis.”
“When I questioned her, she refused to tell me whom she served and in what capacity. I could only assume she meant to bring harm to someone as her skills far surpass even the bravest knights in the kingdom.” The tension in Henry’s shoulders eased as the conversation shifted.
“If she was truly trained by the Guild, then I have no doubts she could have easily killed us whenever she chose.” Crispin leaned back against the wall beside Henry. “Those trained by the Guild are rumored to be heartless assassins and masters of manipulation.”
“Why did Francis not have her kill us and then reveal himself? It would have been much simpler than this game of power and persuasion he insists on playing.” Henry tilted his head to study Crispin’s profile.
“He is determined to have my reputation ruined completely.” The realization came easily upon deeper reflection. Crispin plucked at his torn sleeve. “I was certainly on a path of self-destruction before my father banished me from the castle. His effort to save my soul, as it were, led me directly into Ruby’s embrace. Had it not been for her, I would have found myself exactly where Francis intended. Ruined beyond any hope of salvation. The kingdom would have been forfeit, and he could have reappeared to take the throne without challenge.”
Henry understood completely. Ruby had been an unanticipated factor in Francis’s plans. Her joining Crispin hindered his long-awaited opportunity to return to the throne a hero as well as a savior. Francis’s bold revelation nagged at his conscience.
“Tell me truly.” Henry licked his lips, fearing the answer to the question burning in the back of his mind. “Did you hire someone to kill your father, Crispin?”
A shadow fell across Crispin’s face. It could have merely been a trick of the light, but Henry noticed the shift in his friend’s demeanor. For a moment, he feared he crossed a line and Crispin would lash out at him for even asking such a thing. Crispin finally hung his head.
“I paid a man in the village to find someone willing to take care of my father.” His confession was soft but clear. Henry held his breath, unable and unwilling to break the spell cast around it. “I never intended to follow through with it. I was drunk and angry. I wanted to hurt him for punishing me. He wanted me to fill Francis’s role.” Crispin’s voice rose with vehemence. “But I am not my sainted brother!”
Whatever hell Francis endured, he was no longer the same sainted, selfless man they once knew. He remembered their formative years training as knights fondly. Francis, Crispin, Henry, Simon, Timothy, Jacob, and several others who spent nearly all their time together both in the training ring and out.
Francis was the bastion of light. A golden knight dedicated to service and chivalry. Timothy and Jacob idolized him, following him like hounds come to heel. Simon was his closest friend and companion. So similar were they in stature and manner, people often confused them, a benefit Simon often used to his advantage when seducing sweet maidens at the local inn. While Crispin and Henry often followed in their wake, they remained together, set apart from the others, making their own way and often causing trouble in the process. No one could live up to the standard Francis set. No one ever tried. He was the golden prince.
“No one would blame you for wanting recognition on your own merits.” Henry rested his hand on Crispin’s shoulder in a show of solidarity. “If it helps, I do not think it was your fault the king died. There is no proof, nothing to tie you to his death. It does not help to dwell upon it.”
Crispin faced Henry, his eyes rimmed with red and his cheek discolored from where the guards struck him. “When Francis tells my mother, it will not matter if I had a hand in it or not. She will never forgive me for even considering such a vile act.” His breath hitched. “I cannot bear for her to look upon me with disgust and disappointment for such a betrayal.”
Henry could find no words of comfort to soothe his friend’s conscience. Instead, he relaxed beside him, and together they sat in silence. The echo of conversations filtered through the corridors, muffled by the stone and wood confining them. At least he was no longer alone. Now he had Crispin and they would find a solution. A way to free themselves and Ruby from Francis’s vile plot.
“Do you remember?” Henry chuckled as a random memory assailed his weary mind. “When we were young and Francis was determined to ride your father’s new destrier. Simon encouraged him to take the mammoth beast out into the field beyond the castle walls. Idiotic.” His shoulders trembled with laughter making his sides ache.
