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Swaying Man ignored him as he summoned the tavern owner.
“John,” Philip said as they returned to their own table. “I can read your expression. Do not take the blame on yourself. You only just discovered your betrothal.”
John raised a hand. “Regardless of whether I believe I could have prevented it, I have to find a way to make this situation right. My castle and lands are in a shambles; I have no army but you, Ogden, and Parker. I will not ask the three of you to follow me into certain death.”
“But you’re her legal betrothed. We’ll go to the king and—”
“Even if I went to London, the false rumors have probably preceded me. And I cannot openly approach Castle Alderley and demand the return of Lady Elizabeth, especially against a viscount who’s related to the king. I am a baron without an army. I could lose the right to her.”
Though his future might be tenuous, John was no longer the boy who let himself be aimlessly swayed. “I will not permit this to happen.”
He pushed his tankard away and rose to his feet. A lone man at another table glanced up at him, then hunched over his own tankard.
John knew that this quest would contain enough excitement and danger to keep him satisfied. “Philip, I will prove that I deserve to marry her. When I convince her of my regrets and my sincerity, she will stand beside me when I go to the king on our behalf.”
Philip stood up. As they left the tavern together, Philip asked, “How will we accomplish all this?”
Ogden and Parker, who had remained with the horses, now walked toward them across the tavern yard.
“Milord,” Ogden said, chewing on the end of his long mustache, “we heard rumors ye need to know.”
“If it concerns Lady Elizabeth, then I already know. We leave for Castle Alderley immediately. Go inside for your dinner, and be quick.”
As the two soldiers hurried away, John glanced at Philip. “You asked how we will accomplish Lady Elizabeth’s rescue. We’ll need to find her army. Give me some time to think, and I’ll come up with the rest. I always do.”
They exchanged grins of anticipation.
When the two soldiers returned, the four of them set off. Since there were only so many hours of daylight left, John set a punishing pace. By the time it was full dark, the horses were well lathered and hung their heads in exhaustion.
The party made camp in a copse of trees just off the main road. Around a fire, they ate dried beef and biscuits, and John said little as he contemplated what he could do for Lady Elizabeth. A plan was beginning to take form, but before he could express it, the horses began to neigh with unease. Parker, who’d been on sentinel duty, came through the trees from the direction of the road. He was broad and squat, shorter than most men, but an incredibly skilled warrior. John had taken on him and Ogden when no one else would have them, and he’d never once regretted it.
Parker threw a look over his shoulder back at the road. “I hear nothin’, milord, but the horses never lie.”
A cloaked man stepped forward out of the shadows, both hands raised in peace.
John’s hand dropped to his sword hilt, but he didn’t draw it. “Who are you?”
The man slowly lowered his hood so that they could see his face. He was clean-shaven and wore a pleasant smile. “Good evening, gentlemen. Might I share your fire?”
It was hardly a cold evening, John thought, but perhaps a lone man felt safer with others about him. “You may, sir, but I ask your name in return.”
The stranger looked chagrinned. “And though I regret it, I cannot grant your request, Lord Russell.”
John stiffened. “You know me, but I am not permitted to know you?”
“I know of you, my lord, and that is a different thing.” He glanced at John’s men. “Might we speak in private?”
“I will not leave,” Philip said tightly.
The stranger considered him. “I know not of you, sir. Lord Russell, do you wish him to remain?”
“I do. He is Sir Philip Clifford.” John nodded toward his other two men, and they disappeared into the trees. He motioned to the fire.
The stranger sat down and rubbed his hands together. “The heat feels good to these old bones.”
John studied him. “You have no look of age about you, sir.”
“Then I hide it well,” the man said, smiling softly. “There are days when all of us feel older than time, are there not?” His smile faded. “I come to you representing my brethren, Lord Russell. You came to our attention many years ago, and we have followed your exploits ever since.”
