Warrior's Ransom (The First Argentines #2) - Jeff Wheeler Page 0,90

discuss terms. He’s ready to hear you.”

Benedict snorted and smiled pleasantly, but the look in his eyes indicated he took offense. Nor did he seem at all interested in the proposal. “I do intend to go to the palace,” he said. “After I’ve won.”

A feeling of inevitability struck Ransom in his chest. He saw Benedict’s confidence, his swagger, and the determination in his eyes. But there was something more. It was the look of a man who’d had too much to drink. A man under Alix’s influence.

“Bennett,” Ransom said, coming closer. “This conflict with your father is unnecessary. Name your terms. I think you will find him agreeable to them.”

Benedict chuckled. “I know him far better than you. He doesn’t want to lose. Yet he is going to.” His eyes became deadly serious. “I want to defeat him.”

“It will cost lives. There will be bloodshed. It will weaken us against our true enemy.”

“Our true enemy? There you go, spluttering the same words that Father uses. Estian’s father had Devon killed, but the son shouldn’t be made to suffer for his crime. We have provoked this conflict, and I seek to end it! And since when are you squeamish about bloodshed? If I recall, you severed the arm of the duchess’s champion in Brythonica.”

Ransom bowed his head, trying to master his feelings, trying to understand the confusion rattling inside his skull. There was some power at work. Something related to Lady Alix’s mysterious abilities.

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Ransom said. “And neither is your father. But he is prepared to give you a crown to wear. Half of the kingdom, Bennett—now. You don’t have to take the whole.”

“I don’t believe in his promises,” Benedict shot back. “Not anymore. He’s losing, and he knows it. Nothing will entice me to back down. I have a superior force, a better strategy, and every likelihood of winning. I am not my brother Devon.”

Ransom sensed the situation was hopeless. “Your brother had many advantages too, yet he failed twice. No battle is ever certain. Much can happen on the field.”

“I know,” said Benedict. “I’ve been training all my life to defeat you, Sir Ransom. I’m ready to prove it. By now you know of my alliance with Sir James, the new duke of the North. Earlier today, I sent out two hundred letters rallying the people of Ceredigion to my side. Two hundred letters, Ransom. I wrote each of them myself. I made promises to some and threats to others. Men are motivated by their hearts. By ambition and by fear. My father has taught me well, and it shouldn’t surprise him that I’ve learned from him.” Benedict shook his head. “But I have none of his bitterness against Occitania. If he does not want this war, then have him come to Beestone on his knees and beg my pardon. I’m sure he’ll find the tower to be suitably comfortable.”

Ransom tried not to let his anguish show. “There is no need to humiliate him. It is beneath you.”

The jab at Benedict’s honor stung, and it showed. He turned around, his face muscles twitching with raw emotion. He walked back to the table against the wall and took a cup and drank from it. He swallowed and then steadied himself. Gone was the rage and bluster. The man’s mastery of himself impressed Ransom. Alix did not interfere at all. But that did not mean her presence wasn’t influencing the scene.

“Father always criticized us if we were too emotional,” Benedict said. “Yet he’s always had the biggest outbursts of any of us. I’ve made up my mind, Ransom. He will yield and face imprisonment, or he will fall in battle. War is the ultimate test of manhood. Such was his example to me. And by his example shall he fall. The letters are sent, Ransom. I cannot unsend them.”

“You will break his heart,” Ransom said.

The duke shrugged and took another sip. “Just as he broke Mother’s? I do this for her as much as for myself. He promises to release her, but when? He’d haggle and delay, all the while preparing to double-cross me. She deserves better than that. She deserves her freedom now. I’ve learned much about her in her homeland.” He looked at Lady Alix and smiled. “And of what she has been through in her life.”

“You trust Estian at your peril.”

“I have more reason to trust him than I do my father,” Benedict said with a frown. “I would welcome you to my

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