Page 64 of The Champion

“He’s after the Brotherhood. I’m sure of it. What better way to get back at us than to frame me for murdering my brethren?”

She frowned at his words. “Roger was one of you?”

“Aye. He wasn’t an active participant. He kept to himself both in prison and once we were out of there. I can’t imagine why anyone would do him harm.”

Apparently, their killer wasn’t that discriminating with his executions. It appeared one Brotherhood member was just as good as another. “But how did he get your tunic without you or one of your men seeing him?”

“Anyone could have ventured into my tent.”

“Without being seen?” she insisted.

He scowled at her. “What are you saying?”

“Is it possible the assassin could be one of the men you trust?”

Stryder paused as the thought played across his mind. He quickly disregarded it as he considered every one of his company. “Nay. My men would never do such a thing.”

“How do you know?”

“Nassir and Zenobia said they had found a messenger who knew of other deaths. Apparently, the assassin has been working for some time now. There are bodies in Rouen, Niece, Hamburg, Flanders⁠—”

“Tournament cities?”

Stryder hesitated. “Aye. I hadn’t thought of that connection.” Now he felt foolish that he hadn’t realized that as soon as Nassir told him of the deaths.

“Were the murders during tournaments?”

“I know not. I didn’t ask at the time, but Nassir would know.” Stryder’s thoughts whirled as he remembered Nassir’s speculations about who would want all of them dead and who the Saracens would send to execute them. “Nassir might be right. The killer could very well be a European knight sent at their behest.”

Rowena nodded in agreement. “Someone the others trust. Someone who could enter their tents on friendly terms.”

It was truly a sobering thought that someone could be out there even now moving amongst the crowd. One of their own, and yet, one bent on murder in the name of their enemies...

The door opened to show the guard on the other side who held his sword out as if expecting Stryder to attack him.

Bemused, Stryder was stunned by what he saw next. Several servants came in bearing a variety of comforts. Blankets, pillows, new linens, a change of clothes, a basket of food, pitchers of water and ale, small toiletries and even a polished lute.

They set the items down near the cot.

Rowena thanked them before they left them alone once more.

“What is all this?” he asked incredulously as he went over to inspect the items.

Rowena came up behind him, her presence electrifying and warming. “I didn’t want an innocent man to suffer and Eleanor agreed.” She went to the baskets and pulled out fresh blankets and pillows, then placed them on his cot.

Stryder was aghast at her thoughtfulness. No one had ever gone to such a length on his behalf. His men seldom gave any thoughts to his comfort, and as for Kit... he complained if Stryder asked him to so much as cock an eyebrow.

He was overwhelmed by her kindness. “You shouldn’t have done all this.”

She straightened up from dressing his bed. “What was I supposed to do? Leave you here to suffer unnecessarily when we both know you didn’t kill Roger or Cyril?”

He didn’t know what surprised him more, her conviction or her presence. “How do you know I’m innocent? You barely know me at all.”

She took his hand into hers. Stryder swallowed at the soft sensation of her flesh on his. At the fire it sent through his body, straight to his groin.

“You’re right, my lord. I don’t know you well enough to say for certain. But I trust my instincts and they tell me that you are not the monster those people outside would claim. If you were, I would never be here. But I believe in you and your men. So, here I am.”

“It’s not proper for you to be with me.”