swung Albi onto the back of his first horse and told him, ‘Ride boy! Don’t be afraid! Just ride!’ The very same man who had been her father’s great friend, who was the King’s cherished cousin, now spread his hands in apology for having ordered the death of her beloved Razi and shook his head.
‘Protector Lady,’ he said, ‘I did what I had to do.’
A shadow moved across the canvas and Alberon’s lieutenant made a perfunctory noise before pulling back the door-flap. His face froze at the sight of Oliver crouched by Alberon’s feet, his face blotched and swelling from the Prince’s blows, and he came to a terrified halt, not certain what to do. His eyes slid to the far wall, pretending not to see, and Oliver looked miserably across his shoulder at him.
‘What is it?’ growled Alberon.
The lieutenant, still frozen in place, his eyes focused on absolutely nothing, said, ‘R-reporting as ordered, sir . . . uh . . . your Highness. The changing of the pickets has come and gone, and still no supplies, sir . . . Highness . . . sir.’
‘Sir Oliver will be with you in a moment. Go and await him outside.’
The lieutenant dropped the door with unseemly haste, and Oliver gaped at Alberon, obviously hardly daring to believe his ears.
‘I should have you whipped to death, Oliver.’
Oliver nodded, his eyes wide.
‘I should hand you to my brother and allow him exact his vengeance upon you. Allow him drag you to your death, perhaps . . . play a little football with your head.’
Oliver shook his head. ‘That was not me,’ he whispered. ‘I would never . . .’
‘Get up,’ said Alberon. ‘Go tend to our men.’
Oliver got stiffly to his feet. He turned to leave.
‘Oliver,’ said Razi softly. The knight froze, his hand on the door. He looked reluctantly back.
‘I understand you had no choice,’ said Razi. ‘It is simply the world we live in.’
Oliver could not contain himself at that and he sobbed, his eyes overflowing. He shook his head. ‘I am so sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It is over,’ said Razi. ‘I have forgotten it. Go do your work.’ And he allowed Oliver to duck from the tent and walk away.
A WOMAN'S PLACE
THERE WAS an uncertain silence after Oliver’s departure.
The Lady Mary and the priest remained very still, as if frightened to draw attention to themselves. Mary sat erect, her hands knotted in her lap, her eyes on Razi.
Wynter stared at Alberon. ‘You cannot mean to trust him?’ she said.
Alberon tutted, and Razi sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. Wynter looked from one to the other in disbelief.
‘He has proved himself disloyal!’ she cried. ‘He has betrayed the King, he has acted behind your back and he has tried to kill Razi!’
Alberon snapped his attention to her. ‘In what way has he betrayed the King?’ he said. Wynter dropped her outstretched hand. Alberon glared at her. ‘In what way has Sir Oliver betrayed the King, Protector Lady?’
‘Albi,’ said Razi softly. ‘She did not—’ ‘No one in this camp has betrayed the King. I would charge you remember that! Bad enough these men have had to risk all to support me, without my very allies sullying their names!’
‘Your Highness,’ said Razi again, ‘please. She did not mean it.’
‘He ordered you dead!’ cried Wynter, unable to contain herself. ‘Are you insane?’ She turned to Alberon. ‘He ordered Razi dead! Tell me that means something to you!’
‘Wynter!’ Razi’s voice was sharp now and he slapped his hand on the cot. ‘That is enough!’
She clenched her hands, enraged beyond words, and Razi’s face softened. ‘Keep your voice down,’ he said gently. She shook her head at him. They could not possibly plan to ignore this? It was not possible that they would.
‘Oliver did what he felt he must to protect the Prince’s position as heir,’ said Razi. ‘He felt he had no choice . . . I shall not condemn him for it.’ His eyes flickered to the Lady Mary, and he looked suddenly drained and lost. ‘We’ve all done terrible things in our time.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘What now, your Highness?’
Alberon gestured grimly to the priest. ‘I must discuss details with Jared, here.’ He looked his brother up and down. ‘Go shave your face and comb your hair, Razi; you look like hell. Wynter, you will tend the Lady Mary. I shall send breakfast.’ He was already ducking out the door as he spoke, his voice drifting