Creston didn’t care about that. “Think on it this way,” he said. “My cousin and de Lohr intercepted this dispatch that was onits way to Henry. It will not reach Henry, but sooner or later, de Bulverton is going to realize that the king never received this missive, and he may very well send another. The Executioner Knights did not thwart anything—they only delayed it. There will be another volley in this war and we may not be so lucky if we do not strike decisively.”
“This is not taking a side, Papa,” St. Sebastian said. “As Creston said, this is defending ourselves. We have that right.”
St. Denis stood up. He began to pace again, but this time slowly and more thoughtfully. The situation was, indeed, shocking in nature, and damaging indeed.
Even he could see that.
“If Henry had received this missive, he would have taken it as a threat,” he finally said. “He would have sent an army after us and we would not have known anything about it until it was too late. Our walls are strong and we have a sizable army, but against five thousand royal troops, we might not survive. I am well aware of that.”
“Th-then what will we do?” St. Sebastian said. “It does not matter how Sidbury produced that missive. We can guess, but we may never truly know. It does not even matter why he did it, but he has. What matters is how we react to it. We cannot donothing, Papa.”
St. Denis knew that. His shock over the situation was wearing off, being replaced by a building anger. That arrogant earl was trying to destroy two hundred years of de Bottreaux legacy. But St. Denis was concerned for one very good reason.
“Our army, historically, has only been for defense,” he said, turning to look at the group of men behind him. “All of you—my trainers—are greatly skilled men, but the truth is that none of you, with the exception of Sinclair and Payne, have fought in a real battle in years. Everything you do is here at Blackchurch, teaching others to fight battles. I cannot take my army intoSidmouth to raze Sidbury’s castle and punish him. That will be seen as an act of aggression and will remove some of the neutrality we have worked so hard to achieve. It is the only thing that keeps us from being pulled into the numerous battles that England’s kings seem to wage. Do you understand me so far?”
Heads were nodding, but not all of them.
Creston didn’t seem too apt to agree.
“We areallwarriors,” he said as if St. Denis’ words had offended him. “I would trust my life in battle to every man in this chamber.”
St. Denis held up a hand to ease him. “I know, Cres,” he said. “I did not mean to disparage anyone, simply state a fact. While I do notwantto take my army into Sidmouth, that does not mean I would beopposedto sending men into Sidmouth.”
“My lord,” Brenton said, “that is what the Executioner Knights are trained for. That is what we do—action against enemies. For my cousin’s sake, since I have come to learn the Earl of Sidbury is his wife’s grandfather, let me make the offer. You have Myles de Lohr and myself to utilize in this instance. Tell us what you want us to do and we shall do it.”
Creston stepped forward. “He’s right,” he said. “A joint operation between Blackchurch and the Executioner Knights to remove the threat against Blackchurch. No one need ever know about it. Covert operations are something we do best.”
St. Denis cocked his head curiously. “Do you have a plan?”
Creston nodded. “Possibly,” he said. “It is one of my skills. Anything underhanded. I remember that you told me when you brought me on at Blackchurch that your recruits needed a trainer like me. To teach them about… questionable tactics.”
“And so you have,” St. Denis said. “But how do you envision punishing Oscar de Bulverton so he will never again be a threat to Blackchurch?”
“I have an idea.”
Myles had spoken, and everyone turned to look at the big de Lohr son. He seemed to radiate the same legendary quality that his father had, so he naturally had their attention. When he saw that all eyes were upon him, he cleared his throat softly.
“I have the advantage of not having any emotional attachments to anyone, or anything, that has been discussed,” he said. “I fear that someone like Creston, who is deeply involved, may not see the situation entirely clearly—and that is no judgment against him. It is simply human nature.”
As Creston stood, stone-faced, and listened, St. Denis encouraged Myles. “Continue, please.”
Myles looked at the group, but he was looking at Creston in particular. “When we came to Blackchurch, I knew nothing about Sidbury’s relationship to you, or really anything about the situation as a whole, but I’ve learned quickly by listening,” he said. “It seems that Lord Sidbury came into the possession of a missive from Louis of France thanking Lord Exmoor for men and money in his fight to claim Gascony, only it is obvious that the dispatch is a forgery. Either Sidbury is part of a plot against Blackchurch or he is instigating one. In either case, he is involved and must be stopped. The fact that he may be seeking revenge against a faction of pirates related to Blackchurch for burning his town seems quite logical. It is a reasonable motivation. He is looking to get back at Triton’s Hellions through his damage to Blackchurch.”
He looked around, seeing that the men were agreeing with him, before carrying on.
“We can see, clearly, that Sidbury must be eliminated,” he said. “The man is trying to destroy Blackchurch, and Creston is correct—you have every right to defend yourself, but you cannot go storming into Sidmouth with an army. That would damage Blackchurch’s reputation for neutrality. Therefore, we do whatBrenton suggested—we embark on a joint mission to protect Blackchurch and eliminate Sidbury.”
St. Denis was listening carefully. “You have mentioned eliminating Sidbury more than once,” he said. “I am not opposed to that. In fact, it is necessary. But how do you expect to do it?”
Myles glanced at Creston. “Now I hear that you are to inherit Sidbury through your wife,” he said. “You must not be part of this. Killing the man you are set to inherit from will only make you the subject of whispers and mistrust from your fellow peers. No one will trust you if they know you killed a man to inherit his title. Do you understand that?”
Creston did. As much as he hated hearing it, he understood all too well. “I do,” he said. “But I will be part of this operation and you cannot stop me.”
“No one is going to stop you,” Myles assured him. “But your role in this is to protect your wife.”
Creston frowned. “Protect her?” he said. “Why do you say that?”
“Because she is going to be the bait.”
