Page 54 of The Blacksmith

The Bande de Valeur was large, its men notoriously ruthless.

Guy was in a position to know.

He’d fought with them once.

“I will turn them around,” Guy said, his hands fisting at his sides. “Aceline de Chabannes is a bastard, but he is an intelligent one. With enough persuasion, he can be brought around to our way of thinking.”

“And how do you intend to persuade him? With the truth?”

“Perhaps. And coin, of course. I will speak with Conrad and Terric first.”

“Wealthy men, both. But neither have the amount of coin it will take to match the king’s coffers.”

A fact that did not seem to discourage his friend.

He shook his head emphatically. “They cannot fight for John. We cannot allow it to happen.”

Lance agreed—the routiers’ presence in England would be a major setback. But he did not see how Guy could possibly hope to persuade an entire company, promised riches from the English king, to turn back to France.

Still, if anyone could do it, Guy could.

“Then go.” He stood, extending his arm. Guy took it in his own, clasping his hand around Lance’s forearm in a parting gesture as old as their friendship.

“I will gain Stanton’s support if he is so inclined to give it.”

Guy nodded once, resolutely. “I know you will. Until we meet again, my friend.”

Despite knowing of the complications Lance had created for himself, Guy had faith in him. That knowledge bolstered him to do what needed to be done.

“Until we meet again,” he repeated.

With a nod, Guy was gone. Which meant Lance had little time for self-indulgence. He could no longer entertain his feelings for Idalia. He had come here for a reason.

And the time to execute his mission was now.

Idalia and her sister rode side by side away from the castle.

When Tilly was younger, she’d never left Idalia’s side. Now Idalia wished she’d not complained about having an ever-present shadow. Those sweet moments had become rarer and rarer as her sister grew into a young woman.

It was market day—always a lively affair—and Idalia had never been more grateful for the distraction. The market in Stanton’s village was distinguished by the covered stalls her father had commissioned for the vendors. These were especially attractive to cloth sellers who often wrestled with the elements, as did other merchants.

“A fine day for market,” Tilly said, as if she could hear Idalia’s thoughts.

“Aye. I was just thinking of the improvements Father made over the years.”

“And no doubt you have ideas on how to further improve upon them.”

Idalia smiled despite her heavy heart. If Tilly noticed she was not quite herself, her sister did not comment on it. Instead, they spoke of the market and speculated about Roysa’s well-being. Her letters came less often, and she’d not been back home to visit yet.

Two things they did not discuss.

Mother. Or the blacksmith.

Not that Tilly knew anything about her relationship with Lance. Of course, “relationship” was the wrong word for it. He’d not sought her out since missing their last meeting.

If her mother’s speech scared him from her so easily, then he was not the man for her.

Or so she’d been telling herself these past few days.