Page 55 of The Mercenary

Sabine did not remark that her father had said much the same, that she would be safe enough with Lord Burge, when last she saw him. Burge was no longer a threat. And if de Chabannes did not betray them, their only concern was for his decision. If the French mercenary stayed, ready to fight for John, the order’s short rebellion would be over.

Or their victory would be much less assured, at any rate. The momentum would turn against them.

We should be safe enough.

She hoped her husband was right.

Chapter 27

Guy thanked the smith for sharpening his sword and left the shop. He smiled at the thought of how his friend Lance might react to this blacksmith’s disorderly shop. His friend was nearly as insistent on keeping order in the smithy as he was of the righteousness of their cause against the king.

“’Tis good to see you smile.”

“I thought of Lance,” he admitted as he and Sabine moved away from the smithy. The day was hot for September, and the ground unusually dry from a lack of rain.

A good day to explore the village.

“That mark,” she said, nodding to his arm. “You said he has one too?”

Guy waited until a group of Noreham’s knights moved past. Thankfully, they had not even glanced their way.

“Lance and I met before the others, at an earlier Tournament of the North. My father had commissioned a new sword from his father months earlier.”

“His father was also a smith?”

“Aye. One of the best. But a mean bastard too.”

Sabine tripped, though Guy could not see any obstacles in front of her. He took her arm anyway, and he found he was reluctant to let go.

So he didn’t.

“When I collected my father’s sword, I met Lance for the first time.”

“And the marking? The fleur-de-lis on your arm?”

He instinctively tightened his grip on her arm, still tucked through his. “A reminder. Lance and I received the marks together. Then later Terric and Conrad followed our lead.”

They slowed.

“A reminder of what?”

She looked up at him with such sweetness and sincerity, he could not do aught but answer her.

“The three points commonly represent the three estates. Commoners, nobility, and clergy. ’Tis a reminder we do not accept that. Lance is now lord of Tuleen, but he is also a blacksmith.” He shrugged. “I am but a mercenary. Son of a mercenary and a common woman.”

“But you will be the leader of men someday.”

It was not a question. Sabine said it with such unshakable certainty . . . Her support, her belief in him, made Guy feel as if the sun had come up twice that day.

“Aye,” he said simply.

When her eyes widened, Guy turned to see what Sabine was looking at behind him.

His heart sank into his stomach. It was as if their pleasant day had just been catapulted into darkness. He’d seen the look on her face and knew what it might mean.

And Guy simply wasn’t ready for it.

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