John emitted something that sounded like a strangled scream as he whirled to d’Athée, a few feet away. He gestured at the man with claw-like hands.
“Go and get her, Gerard,” he commanded in a strangled voice. “Get her and bring her to me.”
“Do this and I will kill you,” Sean said to Gerard from across the room. “Do you understand?”
Gerard’s amusement from the beginning of the conversation had faded. Now he was in the middle of it, confused and edgy. He immediately unsheathed his sword at Sean.
“Make no threats to me, Sean,” he growled. “I am armed. You are not.”
Sean lifted an eyebrow at him. “I have no reason to arm myself unless you do not do as I ask. If I arm myself, you will die.”
John screamed again, this time in pure frustration. His body was beginning to contort. “Will no one do as they are told? I said get the St. James woman. I meant it. Gerard, go this instant if you value your life!”
Gerard was cornered but he was also stupid; he did not think for himself and was only able to do as directed. As much as he feared Sean, he was sworn to the king. If the king ordered him to do something, then he would do it. He swung the sword in a deadly series of arcs to prove to Sean that he meant business.
“Where is she, de Lara?” he asked in a low voice. “If you do not tell me, then I will tear this place apart looking for her and when I find her, it will not be pleasant.”
Sean didn’t react at first; he simply stared at the man. He could see where this was leading. After a moment, he turned his back on both men and walked to the entry to the room; two guards waited there, watching the happenings of the room with wide-eyes. Sean reached out and unsheathed the sword strapped to the side of one of the men; it was a smaller sword, more ceremonial than functional, but it was sharp and strong. It would have to do. Sword in hand, Sean turned in d’Athée’s direction.
“Now,” he said in a tone that caused most men to run in terror. “If anyone is to experience unpleasantness, it will be you. You will not go anywhere near Lady Sheridan. She is out of your reach.”
“You see?” John screeched. “He is trying to keep her from me!”
Gerard’s lip twitched menacingly. “Once the king is done with her, I will take my fill and there isn’t a damn thing you can do to stop me.”
Gerard had just signed his death warrant; Sean knew that he meant his threat. Only death would stop him and Sean fully intended to kill him to protect his wife. Any control over the situation had fled and now it was deadly. Sean intended that he and Sheridan would survive it.
“Aye, there is,” he rumbled. “I will end your miserable life before you leave this room.”
“You can try.”
Sean’s sword went up.
*
Guy was verysurprised to see Sheridan. When she and Gilby entered the old man’s tiny rooms that were inconspicuously lodged in a corner of the barracks, Guy nearly leapt out of the bed with joy. But his broken ribs and cracked collar bone prevented it. He lay there with an amazed smile on his face as she came near the bed and greeted him warmly. When he reached out to take her hand, she let him. He was obviously very glad to see her and she was genuinely touched by his concern.
But there was no time for the polite reunion. Gilby needed Sheridan’s help to move Guy and the old man hustled around the room, gathering things they would need and rattling instructions.
“My lady, I need for you to assist young de Braose,” he said as he threw items into a satchel and collected an old black bag shoved under a table. “He cannot walk without assistance.”
Sheridan took a closer look at Guy; she had a suspicion why he was lying in bed looking as if he had been run over by a stampede. The last time she had seen him, he was being taken away by the king’s guard. She bent over him, inspecting the enormous bruise on the right side of his head.
“Oh… Guy,” she breathed, stopping short of actually touching the wound. “What did they do to you?”
Guy smiled, lop-sided from the swelling on his face. “Beat me within an inch of my life,” he said, almost proudly. “But they could not make me tell them anything.”
“What did they want to know?”
Guy tried to shrug. “Everything. Our strength and strategy, mostly. I seem to remember Walter Clifford doing some of the interrogating, I am sure, to seek revenge against my father. They are old enemies, you know. My father will be furious when he finds out.”
“But you told them nothing? Not even Clifford?”
Guy shook his head. “Not a word. No matter how hard they beat me, which was quite hard at times.”
He seemed rather casual about the entire thing but Sheridan was horrified. “I am so sorry,” she whispered sincerely. “Can you at least stand? You may lean on me.”
He nodded, moving extremely slowly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and grunting with pain as his ribs moved around. Sheridan had him by the arm, struggling to help him to stand, as Gilby finished collecting his tools and medicaments. He seemed indecisive with a few things, putting some things aside while collecting others. But when he saw that the lady was having difficulty with the patient, he stopped his collecting and helped the man finally rise to his feet.
