Page 32 of The Champion

Rowena sought peace from her women, but no matter where she tried to go, they dogged her steps, each one telling her of the plan she had to see Rowena united to Stryder forevermore.

This was turning out to be the longest day of her life.

Stryder paused in his tent as his men joined him.

Will stood even in height to him and held the same shoulder-length black hair. His demeanor was normally one of ill-natured surliness, but today his face was even stonier than usual.

Two inches shorter, Swan stood to Will’s right. Swan was the ladies’ man out of their tight-knit group. A rogue charmer, he was seldom ever found without a woman near his side. His dark brown hair fell just past his shoulders and he wore a stylish goatee. His eyes were piercingly blue.

The man was fond of gambling equally with his life and with his coin.

To Swan’s right stood Raven. At barely a score-and-one in age, he was still a bit gangly in frame, but would no doubt fill out in the next few years. He’d always been like a younger brother to Stryder, who had adopted the boy while they had been prisoners in Outremer.

Just behind the three of them was Val. Named for St. Valentine, the man found very little amusing about his name and even less amusing about his giant height. But otherwise, he was without a doubt the best-natured of the lot of them and was usually found laughing over the oddest things.

At the moment though, his face would rival Will for grave seriousness.

“Surely none of you think I killed Cyril,” Stryder said as he faced them.

They passed a baffled look amongst themselves. “Nay, that never entered our minds,” Will spoke for the group while he unsheathed his sword.

Stryder eyed him suspiciously. “Then what is it you do?”

“Remember when you told us you’d rather be dead than married?” Val asked.

Will stepped forward. “We’re about to grant you your wish.”

Stryder rolled his eyes. “Put your sword away.”

“Nay.” Swan shook his head. “I spent the night with a maid from Rowena’s camp, and she had much to say about their plans to see you two wed. You are doomed, Stryder. Run now while you’re able.”

Stryder scoffed. “Don’t be a fool. Even if I wished to run, which I don’t, I can’t. To do so would make me look guilty and we need to find who really killed Cyril.”

“Bah,” Val said disgustedly. “He had enemies aplenty. Only a complete idiot would blame you for it.”

Swan screwed his face up. “Have you looked? There are idiots aplenty at court. A man’s reputation is at stake and the honor of all of us. Nay, it sits ill, but Stryder is right. We’ll let him and Christian find the culprit while the rest of us keep the women occupied, so that they cannot interfere and force a wedding.”

Will snorted. “Leave it to you to come up with that suggestion.”

“What?” Swan asked as if offended. “You find the idea of entertaining ladies distasteful?”

Will shoved Swan, hard.

“Enough.” Stryder broke them apart before their rough play escalated into violence. For full-grown knights, there were times when his men reminded him of children and he felt more like their father than overlord. “Shouldn’t the lot of you be out in the list training?”

They looked at each other as if disgruntled by the idea.

Will scoffed. “Why? ‘Tis not as if any of the lickspittles out there could best us. I’m thinking our time is best served elsewhere. Like in the alehouse, with a goblet in one hand and a maid in the other.”

Stryder groaned at the image. “‘Tis a good thing I know where you were last night or else I might think you were the one who quarreled with Cyril and ended his life.”

Will was ever threatening to tear men apart.

On second thought, it was seldom a threat, but more often an action they were forever pulling him back from. Yet for all of Will’s willingness to kill others, Stryder doubted the man had really taken part in Cyril’s demise.

Nay, there was another man who was guilty of this deed.

Stryder told them of Rowena’s note and watched as, one by one, their faces turned grimmer.