The Fifth Knight(41)

Palmer muttered an oath. “I’d have shown him mercy if he deserved it. But I had to kill him. He was trying to kill me.” He stood too and glared at her. “And Fitzurse wants to kill you. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Like you protected me when Fitzurse threw a bag of gold to you?”

The knight flushed deep red beneath his weather-beaten skin. “He fooled me, Sister. Thank the Almighty he didn’t fool you. Otherwise I’d be dead and you would be soon.”

“At least you can admit that much.”

“Just because I made a mistake doesn’t mean I’m not trying to keep you safe. I’ve risked my life to get you out of the castle, remember?”

“What I remember is I am worth a lot of money to you alive. As far as you are concerned, I could have a large red R for ransom branded onto my forehead.” Anger steadied her head’s whirl. “That is all you care about.”

“You’re free from that. You aren’t worth anything to me now.”

He made no sense. “Why? What else has happened that I cannot remember?”

“You, Sister Theodosia Bertrand, saved my life when de Morville would surely have killed me. My code demands release from ransom for such a deed.” He gave a slight smile. “Usually it applies to knights, not nuns.”

An urgent knock came at the door. “It’s me, Gilbert. Sir, I need to speak to you at once.”

“Hold one moment!” Palmer got to his feet and gave her a sheepish look. “There’s one thing you should know. The tanner and his wife think we’re married. You’ll have to call me Benedict.” He went to the door without meeting her eye.

Married to him? She put a hand to her neck. Then gasped, “No.”

Palmer paused. “It won’t be for long.”

“Not that. My cross, it’s gone.”

“You must’ve lost it in the water.”

Another knock, harder this time. “Sir! It’s urgent!”

“Benedict,” he mouthed as he opened the door.

An old man with a kindly face and a middle-aged woman whose demeanor matched her sharp features waited in a spacious shop.

“What if someone sees them, Gilbert?” said the woman.

“Don’t fret, Gwendolyn,” said her husband. “I’ve closed up the shutters and locked the front door. No one can enter.”

Gwendolyn’s eyebrows arched in displeasure. “Good rest in our skins?”

Theodosia inclined her head but would not dignify this odious woman with a reply. She addressed the husband directly. “Thank you for everything you have done for us. I believe you have helped to save my life.”

“’Twas nothing, my dear.”

“We’ll be leaving once night falls. You’ll not need to bother with us after that,” said Palmer.

Benedict, she reminded herself. But leaving to where?

“Glad to hear that much,” said Gwendolyn. “Gilbert, it won’t take the two of us to tell them what’s going on. I’m going to go and fetch a pie and a jug of ale. Some of us have been working all day and need sustenance.” She jingled coins in her pocket.

“That would be champion, Gwen,” said Gilbert. “Can you get a bite for all of us?”

Her lips pursed. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be a while,” said Gwendolyn. “Everywhere will be ten deep because it’s market day.” She walked out without a backward glance, her wooden pattens rapping hard on the floor.

Gilbert went to see her out the front door. The sounds of a stout lock engaging echoed through the quiet shop. He returned with an odd look on his face.

Theodosia glanced at Benedict. The knight had seen the look too. “Is there something amiss, Gilbert?” he said.

“No.” The man’s breath came fast. “No, there isn’t, Sir Palmer.”

She looked at Benedict in horror as the knight straightened and his big hands closed into fists. “How do you know my name?” he said.

“I’ll tell you, and more besides, if you tell me the truth about you and that lady you call your wife.”

“I still have my dagger, sir.” Benedict’s action matched his words.

The old man blanched but held his ground. “If you kill me, you won’t know what I know. That could be fatal. For you both.”

Theodosia spoke up. “Benedict, you are not to hurt this man. He has helped us, saved my life.”

Benedict still held his dagger.

She pushed his arm down. “There will be no more bloodshed. Do you hear me? Your soul is already halfway to hell.”

Benedict muttered another of his oaths but replaced his dagger on his belt.