“Then at least let me take him to a physic.”
Atticus shook his head. “Not until I gain the answers I seek,” he said. “Where are de la Londe and de Troiu?”
“I will not tell you that.”
“Then your companion is going to be lying there in pain for quite some time. That was what de la Londe and de Troiu did to my brother, in fact. Left him to die. Those are the men you are protecting.”
Summerlin’s jaw ticked. “I was told your brother attacked them.”
“He did not.”
“You do not know that. You were not there.”
“My brother told me the truth.”
Summerlin grunted in frustration. “So you would let a fellow knight linger in pain because you want answers to a question I will not give?” he said angrily. “What kind of man are you, de Wolfe? I see nothing honorable in this behavior.”
That set Atticus off. He unexpectedly charged Summerlin, delivering several vicious blows against the heavily-armored knight who was slowed down by the fact he was laden with freezing armor that weighed a great deal. Atticus, with no protection, moved faster and lighter, and within the first few rapid-fire blows, had Summerlin overwhelmed. It was quite clear that Atticus was the superior fighter. As Summerlin staggered back from the heavy thrusts, Atticus leapt up into the air, lashed out a booted foot, and caught Summerlin squarely in the chest. Off-balance, and unable to catch himself, the knight toppled heavily onto his back.
But the fight wasn’t over. Even with Summerlin down, Atticus went on the offensive, chopping at him, catching him in the hand and on the back where the seams of the armor were weak. Blood spattered from cuts onto the hard, dead ground. When Summerlin tried to rise, Atticus kicked him in the head and sent him crashing to the frozen earth. Half-conscious, Summerlin still struggled to get up and defend himself but Atticus stepped on his right wrist, so hard that Summerlin heard bones crack before he let go of the sword he was still trying to grip. Atticus reached down and yanked the sword from the man’s grasp, tossing it several feet away. Shoving a knee into Summerlin’s neck, he grabbed the man by the hair and lifted his head.
“Now,” he growled. “Tell me what I want to know or there will be two knights lying in pain upon these frozen moors. Where are de la Londe and de Troiu? My patience wears thin, Summerlin.”
In pain, and at a distinct disadvantage, Summerlin struggled between the innate sense of self-preservation and the unwillingness to divulge Norfolk’s information.
“This is not what honorable men do,” he breathed. “They do not cheat in battle.”
Atticus yanked his hair, snarling in his ear. “Do not speak to me of honor when you serve a man who paid knights to betray their friends,” he said. “Norfolk solicited Northumberland knights to betray their comrades. When my brother did not agree to their terms, they killed him. The men you are trying to protect killed my honorable brother because he would not betray his fellow knights. He would not betrayme. I know Norfolk wants me worst of all; by all that is holy, I know it. So do not speak to me of honorable behavior when the very man you serve is a snake in the grass, seeking out the next victims of his deceit and treachery.”
Summerlin didn’t want to concede Atticus’ point but he knew there was truth to it. Norfolk continued to work in secrecy and deceit in order to gain men for Edward’s cause. He’d known before Towton that Norfolk had secretly solicited support from de la Londe and de Troiu, so everything Atticus said was true. He grunted as Atticus’ knee grinded into his neck.
“If I tell you where they are, Norfolk will know I have spoken,” he said. “I… I have a wife and a young son at Arundel Castle. If I betray Norfolk, they will suffer.”
“He will not know you have given me any information unless you tell him.”
“There is no one else to tell youbutme. He will know.”
Atticus continued to press his knee into Summerlin’s neck for a few moments longer before abruptly releasing the man. As Summerlin collapsed onto the ground, unarmed and battered, Atticus stood a few feet away.
“Summerlin,” he said, “as I see this situation, you have little choice in the matter. Either you tell me what I want to know, or I will lock you up in the vault of Wolfe’s Lair and you will never see your wife and child again.”
Summerlin pushed himself up on his bloodied hands, rolling onto his side and eventually into a sitting position. His ears were still ringing from Atticus’ kick to the head and he struggled to shake off the bells.
“If you lock me up in the vault of Wolfe’s Lair, my army encamped over the hill will eventually come looking for me,” he said. “They will lay siege to Wolfe’s Lair. Are you prepared to withstand an extended siege?”
“If they lay siege, I will throw your dead body over the wall onto them.”
“Then you will never learn the answers you seek.”
“Then tell me what I want to know and I will be merciful.”
They were at a stalemate. Summerlin had no doubt that Atticus would do as he said he would and he didn’t particularly want to be locked up in a freezing vault or thrown over the fortress wall. He was at a distinct disadvantage with no choice in the matter as he saw it; he wanted to live to see his wife and son again. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain his survival instinct to Norfolk, but he would think of something. He had no other alternative. With a heavy sigh, he looked up at Atticus.
“Do I have your word that you will release me?” he asked.
“If you tell me everything you know about de la Londe and de Troiu, I will show mercy.”
“Do I have your vow?”
