and Stutter snickered in unison and adjusted the angle of each other’s helm.
“Ready then?” De Chesnai asked. “We’ll not have a second chance. You, lass, if you are as good a shot as the bishop says, get by my elbow and stay there. Aim for the throat to cut off any sound of alarm.”
“I know full well how to kill Normans,” Gil replied tautly. “See to your own skills, Captain.”
De Chesnai prodded Alaric toward the door. Both men had to duck to clear the archway, then climb down the short flight of steps single file in order to reach the guard’s station below. There, three of De Gournay’s men stood instantly alert, their hands clasped around the hilts of their swords.
“Rest easy lads,” De Chesnai barked gruffly. “Just another bit of amusement for my lord D’Aeth. Caught him trying to empty the kitchens of venison, and right under the prince’s nose.”
The guards chuckled and eased their hands from the swords. A bat of an eye later, one of them was crumpled on the floor, unconscious, and the other two were pressed flat against the wall, their eyes bulging with the pressure of the cold steel blades thrusting into their necks.
“The Black Knight,” De Chesnai asked the closest. “Where is he?”
“Where you will never get to him,” the guard spat.
Sir Roger sighed and shook his head. He gave his hand a jerk and the blade of his knife plunged forward, slicing through cartilage and bone like a cleaver splitting through a joint of mutton. Blood and air bubbled through the gaping wound and, before the guard had finished choking and twitching himself into a tangle on the floor, De Chesnai was approaching the second man and waving Gil aside.
“Now then. I shall ask again. Where is the Black Knight being held?”
“B-b-below,” the guard stammered. “In the main donjon.”
“Lead the way, there’s a good lad. Oh”—he raised the dagger and rested the point on the guard’s cheek, letting him feel the warm wetness of his comrade’s blood—“and if you attempt to cry out a warning, or sound an alarm of any kind, you will feel the bite of this up your buttocks, my friend, and I promise you, the sensation will not be a pleasurable one.”
The guard blinked, swallowed, and nodded jerkily.
“Move,” De Chesnai ordered.
The guard reeled away from the wall and stumbled ahead of them along the dimly lit corridor. De Chesnai, Alaric, and the others were close behind, leaving three of their own men to replace the guards on watch.
Two more posts were broached and cleared, with De Gournay’s men bound and gagged—if they took the suggestion peaceably—or the bodies hidden and the vacancies filled with erstwhile foresters. At the third guardpost, there were four men playing a game with dice and pebbles. Boredom caused one of them to inspect the new prisoner with more care than usual, and to wonder why the sentry from the main post was sweating rivers in the chilly air. He was on the verge of shrugging aside his suspicions when the sling around Robert’s waist snapped, bringing Sparrow down with a yelp of pain.
Gil wasted neither thought nor action, but raised her bow and fired an arrow into the guard’s throat before he could cry out a warning. De Chesnai’s dagger tasted blood again, buried to the hilt in a man’s belly, while Robert accounted for the third and fourth guard by grasping them around the necks and cracking their heads together with enough force to send their eyeballs squirting out of the sockets.
In the sudden eruption of violence, the sentry who had been their hostage darted ahead into the gloom of the corridor. He did not get very far before an iron bolt from Sparrow’s crossbow thumped his flesh like a hatchet striking into wood and sent him sprawling forward into the wall. He grabbed for a chain hanging nearby and tried to use it to hold himself upright, but it was no use, and he slid slowly down onto his knees, his mouth moving in soundless agony.
Alaric discarded the ropes from around his wrists and bent over to arm himself from one of the dead guards. They were standing at a junction where the corridor branched off in two directions, each hazy and poorly lit. The guard had been running toward the one on the left … because it was the closest? … because he knew there was help within reach? … or because he was hoping to lead them away from