Lucien checked the balance of his sword and unsheathed two razor-sharp poniards from his belt, tucking one into each sleeve.
“You had better let me go first here on in,” Friar advised. “And for the love of God, keep your hood up and well forward to shadow your face. The Devil might welcome such grisly fierceness, but I doubt any wary Christians would see comfort there.”
Lucien cursed the delay, but drew the hood forward. So far this night, others had done his killing for him, and he was more than ready, willing, and eager to draw blood.
They inched downward another fifty paces in cautious silence, then with a deep breath drawn to stop his pulse from racing away from him, Alaric raised his voice and called for help.
“Ahead! Ahead! God love us, is there anyone ahead!”
He scraped, stumbled and scuffed his way around the last curve of rock and was not surprised to see several grim-faced guards braced in a crouch, their crossbows armed and aimed at the two monks who came spilling out of the darkness.
“Oh thank God, thank God!” Friar cried, moving onto the ledge and hugging the rock as if he had no intentions of letting go ever again. “Holy Father in Heaven, ’tis a wonder, a miracle we are here at last!”
“By the rood, who are you and where have you come from?” demanded one of the guards.
“Why … ’tis only me, Brother Benedict, and my companion, Brother Aleward. We have come from the castle on Lord Wardieu’s command … though God knows how he expected us to bring our souls down this mountain without aid of light or guidance. Oh, we had a torch, but it gave up its life nearer here than the way back and we had no choice but to come ahead … not that we would have turned back too eagerly in any event. No, no. I should rather have faced any peril than return to the baron without his orders obeyed. Are you all right, Brother Aleward? Dear me, the poor man has no stomach for heights, you see. Twice he lost it on the way down and I dread the thought of having to nurse and coddle him the way up again, but at least it will be dawn soon and we will have God’s light to guide us back.”
“Why have you come?” demanded the guard, his eyes slit-ted warily, his hands still taut on the grip of his crossbow.
Lucien kept his face averted, marking the positions of the guards who stood between them and the cell door. There were four sentries all told, two men-at-arms with bows, two mercenaries in mail armour with longswords drawn and ready for trouble.
“In truth,” Alaric replied, spreading his hands wide to discourage any hint of a threat. “I did not question Lord Wardieu’s command. I merely assumed, because it is to be his wedding day, he is offering his bride every opportunity to confess whatever sins may be tormenting her soul, and to offer prayer and counsel as a means of redeeming herself in the eyes of the Lord.”
The knight who had issued the challenge laughed gruffly and resheathed his sword. “Prayer and counsel? Give us free rein with her and she would be as docile as a lamb. A little worn between the thighs, perhaps, but knowing how to give proper thanks when and where it is due.”
The four guards grinned and exchanged a glance between themselves, giving Alaric the distinct impression they had already drawn lots to see who among them would be the first. He knew also, by the sudden stillness of the figure behind him, that Lucien had arrived at the same conclusion.
“A pity,” Friar sighed, almost to himself. “We might have been able to spare your lives.”
Lucien’s hands disappeared into his sleeves for a split second and when they emerged again, there was a flash of steel and the two men-at-arms were doubling over, clutching at the hilts of the poniards jutting from their chests. Friar was on the first mercenary before he was aware of the danger, his blade slashing through the firelit darkness and severing the man’s hand from his wrist before his sword was fully drawn. The knight grunted and held out the bleeding stump in disbelief; stunned, he staggered too close to the edge of the promontory and, with a scream that was torn away on a gust of icy wind, vanished into the misty darkness.
Lucien had engaged swords with the other knight, a