Garren’s guard came down somewhat. He could feel the disillusionment in the Marshal’s voice and it hurt him. He had worked so hard to achieve the trust he had with William, though it was not completely lost, it had been damaged.
“Who told you?’
“It does not matter. I suppose what matters is that you have come back to face me as a man should. I expected nothing less.”
“And I would never show such disrespect by not facing you.”
“Then you admit your mistake.”
“It was not a mistake.”
William cast him a long look. “You failed.”
“I did not.”
“I am not going to argue technicalities, Garren.”
“And I am not going to admit that marrying a woman I am deeply in love with was a mistake. I have done what I have done, for reasons you do not agree with. Rather than arguing about it, I am here to tell you what I have done and ask that I be given leave of Richard’s service to be with my wife.”
William’s jaw dropped. “You’re serious?”
“Never more so.”
The fury returned to William’s veins. He rose from his seated position, stiffly. “I have no intention of allowing my greatest emissary leave, in any circumstance. You were born, bred and trained to serve me, le Mon, and that is exactly what you shall do. Your marriage and personal feelings are secondary to the needs of our king at this moment. I need you now, more than ever. Is that clear?”
Garren stood his ground. “You have many capable commanders, my lord. I am inconsequential.”
“You are my hammer.”
For the first time since Garren had been a knight, he felt a surge of anger at a direct command. Never mind that it was coming from William Marshal; anyone who would keep him from his wife would be dealt with.
“Find another hammer, my lord. I am going back to my wife.”
He spun on his heel, uncharacteristically defiant. He hadn’t made it three steps when the Marshal spoke.
“Do you know Fergus de Edwin?”
Garren paused, massive confusion filling him. “Should I?”
William Marshal had achieved his position in life for a very good reason. He could be a cold and calculating when he neededto be. This was one of those moments. He knew even before the words spilled from his lips that the mood between him and Garren would change forever.
“I am the last person you need be evasive with.”
“I am not being evasive.”
“Then you will tell me that you know of him, for I know that you do.”
“I do.”
“Then I will tell you something else, Garren.”
Garren couldn’t help it; his eyes narrowed. “By all means, my lord. Tell me something else.”
It was a tone that William had never heard from Garren before, threatening and deadly. But it did not deter him. “You will ride from Chepstow at the head of my army,” he said quietly. “You will ride north to Nottingham and meet the mercenary army in battle. You will lead the armies of Richard to victory. Richard’s reign is everything; you and I are nothing. Merely expendable figures in this great chess match of Life. And along with you and me as pawns, there are many other players. Your wife, for one. Fergus for another.”
Garren hated the horror creeping into his veins. It was all he could do to keep his hands from wrapping around the Marshal’s throat.
“What in the hell does that mean?”
