The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,105

task entrusted to us.”

Armand suddenly remembered Fulcher’s mention of a black-hooded figure who changed horses frequently and dipped in and out of view. Professionals. “Just how many of you are there?” he asked hollowly. Fulcher had thought there was only one man on their tail, yet Walker spoke now as if there were several.

Walker shrugged. “The number is immaterial at this point. We were given specific orders to follow your progress and ensure you reached your home safely.”

At this point Armand suffered another unpleasant realization. If they had been following them, then they must be aware of what had occurred at The Merry Wayfarer. He regarded the man narrowly. “If that is so, you must know we were nearly slaughtered in beds at one point,” he said damningly.

For the first time, Walker looked a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Alas, we suffered an unforeseen setback and lost some time en route. When we arrived the next morning, we had a hell of a jolt at the scene that met us.” He lowered his eyes discreetly. “We were, however, happily able to tidy up the after-effects. Perhaps you made inquiries? It was put about that the landlord and his staff fled into the night after the untimely death of a pilgrim on his premises.”

Armand colored slightly. “I made no inquiries,” he admitted. Perhaps if he had done, this would not come now as such a shock to him. “What did you do with them? Shallow graves?”

Walker looked shocked. “Certainly not, Sir Armand. They were decently buried as plague victims some fifty miles away from that spot and without hint of scandal.”

Yes, they were professionals alright. Armand eyed him warily. “So, you followed us here,” he said abruptly. “Why did you not return then to Caer-Lyoness, once the task was done?”

Walker scratched his beard. “Following you here was only half of the job,” he admitted and gave Armand a wry smile.

“Half the job?”

“Once you were settled, we were to ensure you continued that way. Untroubled, shall we say, by any who would ‘unsettle’ you.”

“You mean Northerners who might want to snatch my wife,” said Armand forthrightly. He was tired of beating around the bush.

Walker sucked in a breath as one unaccustomed to such plain speech. “In short, sir, yes.”

Armand was silent a moment. “Have you had many to deal with?” he asked harshly. Had he been living in some sort of fool’s paradise? Otho was right. He had not had a clue what he was getting himself into.

“One or two,” Walker said with a shrug. “Nothing me and the boys couldn’t deal with.” Armand found he could well believe him, despite the apparent affability. He looked sturdy enough and carried himself with a quiet assurance Armand was starting to think others would be foolish to overlook. “Any interested parties have dwindled away to a mere trickle now,” Walker said easily. “We’ve been kicking our heels for the most part.”

“Why have you made yourself known to me now?” Armand asked. That was the only part he couldn’t fathom. Why had they come out of the shadows?

Walker scratched the side of his face. “For two reasons,” he admitted. “The first, it seems to me you aren’t as guileless as you make out, Sir Armand.” Walker’s gaze flickered over him speculatively. “Been taking on a few soldiers of your own recently, haven’t you? As such, I reckon you might as well take some of our number in among your ranks. We’re doing much the same job. What’s the point of us sneaking around the vicinity, when you’ve enough muscle gathered at your own table?”

Armand shot him a look. “Well, that’s plain-speaking enough,” he said dryly. “What’s the second reason?”

Walker hesitated. “Has your lady wife ever mentioned her surviving siblings to you, sir?”

“She only has one left, he acts now as my steward.”

“I do not speak of the bastard Otho Fitzroy,” Walker replied swiftly.

Armand swung around to look at him in surprise. “Who then?” When Walker did not reply at once, Armand stared at him keenly. “Una told me she had four illegitimate brothers. Two born to noblewomen and two to commoners.”

“True enough,” Walker agreed. “Forwin and Waleran were born to noble houses. Otho and Umrey to obscurity.”

“Una said the first two were promised great riches and honor if their cause had prevailed,” Armand continued slowly.

“Yes. Forwin was the elder and perished like so many others at Demoyne.” Walker paused. “It was initially believed Waleran was also a casualty of that battle, but since then,