The Fifth Knight(30)

Palmer boiled inside, but he kept it down. He had a chance at getting a weapon. “Not a bit of it. I’m going to ransom her back to the church. I’ll still be paid.” He adjusted his stance, ready to pull Theodosia to the ground when Fitzurse’s sword flew.

Fitzurse shook his head slowly, then, to Palmer’s astonishment, lowered his sword. “Well done, boy. You’ve passed the test.”

“Test? Your test for me was to roast the anchoress alive.”

“I’d already seen your strength, saw it on the ship. But I had to ask questions about what you carried between your ears. You missed the girl and the monk in the cathedral, Palmer.”

Another whisper. “Don’t listen to him.”

Palmer opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. Fitzurse was right.

Fitzurse nodded. “There was also the question of your mettle. You didn’t land a single blow on Becket.”

“I didn’t — ”

“No, you didn’t.” Fitzurse shook his head. “A quest ordered by the monarch allows no room for doubt, Palmer.”

“Stop filling his head with your poison!”

Palmer started at Theodosia’s sudden cry above the river’s noise.

Fitzurse merely smiled. “Don’t take on, Sister.” He didn’t move his gaze from Palmer. “Hence your test. De Morville and I invented a terrible fate for the anchoress. Planned for you to hear of it on the morrow, see how you’d react. As it happened, you came clattering into the gallery and gave us a ready-made opportunity.” Fitzurse gave his clipped laugh. “We were obviously convincing. I must say, you acted far faster, far more effectively, than we thought possible. And making sure you’d be paid as well? You’ll go far, Benedict Palmer.”

“Th-thank you, my lord.” All wasn’t lost. In fact, nothing was. He’d been tested and found true.

Another cry. “You lie!”

Fitzurse brought his sword across his body and slowly sheathed it, shaking his head. “It’s a royal mission, my girl. Why would I lie?”

A wave of relief swept through Palmer. “What he says is true, Sister. And he’s withdrawn his weapon. We have our proof.”

“Palmer!” Fitzurse reached beneath his surcoat and pulled out a bulging leather pouch. “Here’s your reward. I know waiting for it plagues you.” He threw it high across the water, and Palmer caught it in one hand with a loud clink.

He unknotted the looped tie at the top and looked inside to see the unmistakable glow of gold. He opened it up fully. Fabulous yellow discs, too many to count as they lay atop each other against the red silk lining. A fortune. Forever. He raised his gaze to see a smiling Fitzurse. “You’re most generous, my lord Fitzurse.”

“Half of it is for the girl. She can take it back to Canterbury. Use it to build a shrine to Becket, or whatever the monks want to do with it,” said Fitzurse. “I truly regret frightening her, but it had to be done. We only have to ask her a few questions. If she knows nothing, we’ll release her.”

Palmer turned to Theodosia and thrust the open bag before her. “Now do you believe him?”

“No. More fool you if you do.” She swung up her right hand and hit the bag hard.

It flew open wide, and the coins showered onto the frozen ground.

He bent to pick them up with a loud oath.

“Palmer!”

He looked up at Fitzurse’s shout. Theodosia fled back up the towpath as if chased by dogs.

“Stop her!”

Palmer took off after her. “Theodosia! No!” She couldn’t ruin things for him now. He’d show her the back of his hand when he caught her.

“Palmer! If she gets away, you’ll get nothing. Our mission depends on what she knows.”

Palmer lengthened his strides, but panic seemed to give the girl wings. “Theodosia!” For God’s sake, why wouldn’t she listen? As she ran, she ran with all his hopes. The gold, his fortune. All right for her, with the comfort of the religious life, no fear for her old age. Not like him, going from battle to battle, each one harder as he grew older and the other knights got younger. Old age was a begging bowl and destitution. He’d been raised with that — he couldn’t do it again.

Ahead, she slipped on the wet path and went down on her hands and knees with a cry.

He’d take her now.

She looked back as he gained on her, then scrambled into a dense thicket of shrubs and bushes next to the path.

Palmer’s rapid steps brought him there in moments. “Sister.” He bent low and peered in through the dense evergreen foliage, his breath fast and hard. “Listen to me. You must give yourself up. You’ll come to no harm. You must see that.”