Page 3 of Retribution

He’d run a little more.

With the power of the Blessing elixir beginning to flow through his veins, Everald bolted out the back of Ajmal’s shop, knocking the small door right off its hinges. Out into the wind and the chaos he went, fighting the sand, fighting the elements, but mostly fighting himself. Ajmal had been right.

There was a battle inside him.

A big one.

And he had to keep running from it.

CHAPTER ONE

Year of Our Lord 1274

Westminster Palace, London

“Aidric? Get up. We must hurry.”

Aidric St. John had been sleeping lightly, as was typical of a man who was constantly on guard, constantly in a state of readiness, but he must have fallen into a deeper sleep than he expected because the whispered words were startling.

He was on his feet in a moment.

“Time for what?” he demanded of the man who’d awoken him. “What is the situation?”

The man who had awoken him grinned in response. The big knight with red hair, blue eyes, and zero patience for anything he deemed foolery was up to something. Aidric could see it. When he realized that they weren’t about to fight for their lives, he let out a furious hiss.

“Damnation,” he muttered. “What is this about, Britt?”

Britt de Garr had a twinkle in his eye, something that was incredibly annoying at this time of night. He gestured to another man standing in the doorway of Aidric’s chamber and Aidric could see the outline of Dirk d’Vant, like a hulking sentry in the darkness. That was what they all were, really. Hulking sentries.

Assassins.

Protectors.

Personal guards for the late Henry III.

The truth was that they were now the personal guard for Edward I, who had only just returned to England from crusade a month earlier. He’d been away when his father had passed away and been gone for an entire year. A year that had left the Guard of Six in limbo, not knowing if they were to continue at their posts as the guardians of the new king, or if they were to be disbanded. It had been an uncertain year for them.

Uncertainty or not, however, they had a gravity at Westminster that could not be denied.

They’d become legend at the seat of England’s power, a rock-solid collection of men whom the king trusted with his life. Still, as with life in general, things could change and it had been changing for them over the past few years. The original core of the Guard of Six had been six hand-chosen knights, men who were elite, from good families, but men who had, perhaps, a mark or two on an otherwise spotless record. They had pasts. But they were also devoted to their duties and even though they weren’t brothers by blood, and they hadn’t trained together, they’d become bonded simply by serving together. It was a connection stronger than blood. Over the past few years, as sometimes happens, a few of those men had married and their devotion switched from the king to their families, as it should be.

Torran de Serreaux was the first, followed by Kent de Poyer and then Jareth de Leybourne. From the original Six, only three remained. It was a tight-knit group, but they had some new members that had proven their worth. That hadn’t been a simple task, something the newer members had to work for. But one more member had been invited to join their ranks as of late, by Edward, no less. There was nothing any of the Six could do to refute or reject the newest member.

Not really, anyway.

But they were going to try.

“He has arrived,” Britt said.

That still didn’t clear things up for Aidric. “He?” he said. “Who he?”

Britt’s answer was to head out of the chamber, out into a corridor that was lit by fat-soaked torches, sending black smoke into the ceiling. This was a small corridor near the king’s main apartments, heavily guarded, where Henry’s personal guard slept when there was enough time to do so. Aidric had been on duty for nearly two days, so being pulled out of a deep sleep wasn’t sitting particularly well with him. He was following Britt and Dirk but he truly had no idea why, only that “he” had arrived.

“The one we’ve been waiting for,” Dirk said. “De Velt is here.”

That announcement brought a bit of surprise from Aidric and he stopped rubbing his eyes. “Truly?” he said, now quite awake. “I thought he was not due for another month.”

Dirk nodded. “We have received word from a man who supped at the Earl of Hereford’s townhome last night,” he said. “De Velt was also a guest last night. You know that the House of de Lohr and the House of de Velt are old and close allies.”