to Gerard and I am still bound by that. He would never betray his country, any more than I can betray him.'
Aye, well, there's the problem, see?' Talbot muttered.
'No, I don't see,' Raffe said coldly.
'Word is that if the envoy doesn't complete his mission safely, other messages can be sent from France to Osborn or even the king himself, explaining how you and others he could name have helped those fleeing from John.' Talbot spat disgustedly into the darkness. 'I always knew priests were devious bastards, but you'd have thought at least they'd not turn on those who've helped 'em.'
Raffe felt the blood drain from his face. He knew exactly why the priest would be willing to see him hanged or worse. The little weasel had plainly not forgotten, much less forgiven, being trapped with Gerard's corpse. Raffe had little doubt the priest would carry out his threat. What was to prevent him?
But Raffe didn't have to stay and wait for John's men to come for him. Talbot had arranged passage on a ship for the priest — why couldn't he arrange it for Raffe? Not to France, of course, nor any of the lands where John still held sway, but there were other countries. He could go anywhere, just walk away from this. What was to keep him here?
Talbot suddenly gripped Raffe's shoulder. 'Priest said there were others who'd helped. What did he mean? Who did you talk about?'
Even though it was too dark to read the gatekeeper's expression, Raffe could feel the powerful fingers digging into him, and knew exactly what he was asking.
'Upon my life, I swear he knows nothing of you.'
'Then who?' Talbot demanded.
Raffe tried to think. 'I suppose the marsh-boy who delivered him to the boatmen, and the boatmen themselves . . . but he'll not know their names.'
'You sure there was no one else?' Talbot growled. 'He said others he could name'
Raffe suddenly knew with sickening clarity who the priest meant. When he was in hiding, the priest had sent the boy to find not him but the Lady Anne. The priest had to know her identity, and that was why he was so certain his threat would work. If Raffe fled, she would be left behind to face the wrath of Osborn and John.
There was no way out of this. Raffe couldn't smuggle Anne out of the country in secret. Such a flight would mean travelling at night, climbing on to ships in the dark, even hiding in the bilges until they were safely clear of the coast. A young woman might have managed it, but not her, even if she consented to do it. He'd seen how exhausted the journey from her cousin's home had left her; she would never survive a voyage as a fugitive. And if she did, what would become of her in a foreign land? He could take any menial job to put food in his belly, living rough in the open if he had to, he'd done it before, but he couldn't expect a woman of noble birth to end her days in some peasant's hut in a foreign field.
He could sense Talbot studying him, waiting for a reply, but he was not going to give him the name he was looking for.
'Even if I do what they ask, what's to stop the priest betraying us . . . me anyway?'
Talbot shifted his weight, 'Nowt,' he said bluntly. 'But you'd have information to trade, once you find out who it is the envoy has come to see. If it's that bastard Hugh, then you'd have your proof and could name him without needing to drag Elena into this. You'd be able to buy your way out of a deal of trouble, maybe buy a pardon for the lass too, with a traitor's name to parley with. It's a gamble, to be sure, but seems to me you've a simple choice: cast your dice or accept a certainty — a dead certainty.'
Raffe knew Talbot would give anything to see Hugh tried as a traitor. He'd always wanted to get even with him ever since the man had tried to hang him at Acre. All the same, he had a point. If he could prove Hugh a traitor without Elena having to repeat what she'd overheard, he'd not only keep her alive, she might be able to return to Gastmere.
The inn door opened and Talbot drew back into the shadows. 'I'd best be on my way. Word is ship's