The Fifth Knight(29)

Theodosia clutched at him hard. “What if it gets out?”

“Keep moving.” He forced her past.

The animal fell quiet and she relaxed her hold.

“We’ve nothing to defend ourselves with. Nothing.” Her gray eyes shone with fear.

“I’ve got my dagger.”

“There was an axe in the cell.” Her look judged him as a fool.

“And what would the sentry have done if I’d come into the courtyard carrying a weapon with the Knaresborough crest?” He fixed her with a scathing glance. “Leave the fighting to me, Sister.”

Beneath the filth on her face, the flush rose at her mistake. “With pleasure.” She gasped. “What’s that noise?”

Palmer paused to listen out. The ceaseless rumble of turbulent water. Knaresborough’s river, the Nidd. “Our guide from this place.” He headed down the steeply sloped road toward the loudening roar of the river, Theodosia still in his grasp.

As the land flattened out, he released her, scanning for the best route. The buildings and streets petered out to a broad swath of thick shrubs, patches of grass, and a few moisture-loving willows. It might be a waste of land, but one look at the river beyond told him only a fool would build a house this low down.

Palmer signaled to Theodosia. “We need to find the towpath. But mind, the river’s very high.”

She followed him with a wordless nod.

As they drew close, the noise grew. The wide Nidd battered against the frozen banks, churning the brown, soil-filled water to yellow foam. The recent rainstorms had swollen it right up to the top of its normal channel, threatening a breach. Its fierce current bit out chunks of the riverbank, carrying more soil, weeds, and pieces of grass with it. A few hundred paces downstream, it thundered over a high natural weir, throwing up spray and more foam.

“At least no one will hear us now,” said Palmer. “Keep behind me on the towpath and stay away from the edge. And while we need to make haste, don’t run.”

“But we have to run — you made me on those icy streets.”

“It’s too dangerous on here.”

“Then if it’s perilous, we should find another way.”

The axe. His route. His judgment. His jaw clenched at her picking. “I don’t know this countryside. If we strike out, we’ll get lost. We only have a couple of hours till the alarm is raised.” Palmer pointed ahead, past the weir. “We’ll track the river’s course till we come to another town.” His boot slipped in a patch of mud made liquid by river water, and he fought for balance. “Watch this bit.” He looked back to check she obeyed.

She trod with short rapid steps, focused on the path. “I don’t see how a town will help us. We could hide better in the woods.”

Questioning me again. “There’ll either be a church, a monastery, or folk will know of one. Once we find it, we’re safe. I can state my case for ransom. It won’t take them long to arrange payment. Then you and I are done.” Thank the Almighty.

“I suppose I owe you thanks. Though your methods are not honorable.” She inclined her head stiffly.

Palmer ignored the goad. “I don’t need your thanks, only your value.” He set off again, taking long strides on the drier patches, shorter ones where mud and water pooled.

Then stopped dead as a familiar voice floated over the thrum of the river.

“Goodness, what have we here?”

His gaze shot to the opposite bank.

Fitzurse stood there, drawn sword in hand. “I do believe that’s my prisoner, Palmer. How did she get there?” He didn’t sound angry, merely curious. But his curiosity was backed up by a ready broadsword.

Palmer glanced back at Theodosia. She stood rooted to the spot in terror. He took a half step to shield her from a thrown weapon.

“I’m waiting, Palmer.”

He had nothing. No weapon. No defense. All he had was the truth. “I released her, Fitzurse.”

“Indeed. May I ask why?”

“I overheard your conversation. With de Morville.”

“How did you do that, Palmer?” Again, the tone even, measured.

Again, he had nothing. “Earlier tonight, I went to the minstrel gallery by mistake. I heard what you said. About not being sure of me, testing me. About the Brazen Bull. I freed her because I couldn’t do that.”

“He will kill us both now.” Theodosia’s anguished whisper came to his left ear, but he didn’t respond. Fitzurse had one sword, and he couldn’t get them both, not from this distance across the rough river.

“Then we were right to question you, were we not?” said Fitzurse, eyebrows raised. “You ran away, like a yellow-breeched knave. Not able to see a job through.”