The round blue eyes focused on him. “I mean precisely that. When I regained consciousness, I returned to the de Neville apartment to collect my men to go and search for the lady. But her uncle awoke and demanded to know what was amiss. I was compelled to tell him.”
St. Alban didn’t like the look in the man’s eye. “He will kill Brogan when he finds them, won’t he?”
For the first time since entering the small, stanky chamber, William seemed to calm. “It’s not d’Aurilliac I worry for, but the lady. De Neville justice is swift.”
“They would harm her?”
“Perhaps. I know that her uncle sent word to her betrothed to aid in the search.”
“And you want to help her?”
William’s stance weakened further. “I want to get her away from d’Aurilliac before her uncle finds them together. If I can get her back to the apartments and give de Neville time to calm, then things should go better in her favor. But as it is, the man is bent on fury right now. I must get to the lady before he does. Now, will you tell me what you know?”
St. Alban shook his head, slowly. “If I knew, I would help you, but I truly do not. Brogan did not confide in me, perhaps because I have spent my time attempting to warn him off of Lady Avalyn. Perhaps he did not want to be judged.”
Though the old man seemed sincere, William didn’t believe him. He knew more than he was telling, of that William was sure. His frustration was growing again. He resorted to a very seldom used tactic in the House of de Neville; he pleaded.
“If you could guess where they have gone, what would be your speculation?”
St. Alban was a wise old man. He had been through enough intrigue and warfare to know enemy tactics of coercion. But the young knight with the big blue eyes did not come across asattempting to be particularly hard or clever, simply honest. Part of him wanted to help and part of him didn’t. It was a tense internal struggle.
“He tends to haunt the boroughs to the east of the Tower,” he said softly. “Or he is fond of Walworth. Beyond that, I can tell you no more.”
“Hopefully it will be enough.”
As Inglesbatch turned for the door, St. Alban stopped him. “My lord?”
William paused. “Aye?”
“Would it be possible for an old knight well past his prime to assist you?”
Inglesbatch new he meant himself. His first instinct was to deny him, but on second thought, he might prove useful. One nod of his head had St. Alban up and searching for his antiquated armor.
As William watched him dress, he felt as if he had a distinct advantage now. At least he had a starting point, which was more than de Neville had. Being a dedicated de Neville knight with a good deal of power, he should have rushed back to divulge everything to his lord. But his heart was ensnared by the Lady Avalyn and he truly wanted to find her before the situation veered out of control.
Already, he could feel it slipping from his grasp.
*
Avalyn looked upfrom wiping tears and snot from the little child’s face only to see the oddest expression on Brogan’s features. Something between desire and mercy. When their eyes met, he smiled faintly.
“Now that she has caught you,” he said quietly, “what do you intend to do with her?”
Avalyn’s expression washed with indecision then determination. “I cannot let her go back to those children who would beat a helpless baby,” she said. The she looked at the lowered blond head, resting sweetly against her shoulder. “We must feed her, Brogan. She is starving.”
“What about your entertainment?”
“This is more important.”
His smile grew as he once again put his arm around her shoulders and took her back down the street to a pub that he was familiar with. He knew the innkeeper and knew the man would deal fairly with them. Moreover, it didn’t usually have the disparaging type of rabble he was trying to avoid.
The establishment was a typical wood and mortar building, with a patch of green moss growing up the north side of the structure. Brogan yanked the door open, ushering Avalyn and the child inside. It was a one-room building with a loft above, smelling of old ale and dung. There were a few people dotted around the common room as Brogan put his enormous hand gently on Avalyn’s back and guided her into the heart of the warm room.
The innkeeper saw Brogan from behind his crudely-built bar; immediately, the round face lit up and he held up a dirty hand in greeting.
“Empfang, mein Herr,” he said. “Es ist gut, Sie wieder zu sehen.”
It was apparent that the man and Brogan knew each other. Brogan was actually friendly with the man. “A table for my lady,” he said to him. “And food. The best you have.”
