A Dark Champion by Kinley MacGregor Page A

find who really killed Cyril.”
    “Bah,” Val said disgustedly. “He had enemies aplenty. Only a complete idiot would blame you for it.”
    “There are idiots aplenty at court,” Swan interjected. “A man’s reputation is at stake and the honor of all of us. Nay, it sits ill, but Stryder is right. We’ll lethim and Christian find the culprit while the rest of us keep the women occupied so that they cannot interfere and force a wedding.”
    Will snorted. “Leave it to you to come up with that suggestion.”
    “What?” Swan asked as if offended. “You find the idea of entertaining ladies distasteful? Why, Will, I had no idea you were a ganymede.”
    Will shoved Swan, hard.
    “Enough,” Stryder said, breaking them apart before their rough play escalated into violence. For full-grown knights, his men sometimes reminded him of children and he felt more like their father than overlord. “Shouldn’t the lot of you be out in the list training?”
    They looked at each other as if disgruntled by the idea.
    “Why?” Will asked. “’Tis not as if any of the lickspittles out there could best us. I’m thinking our time is best served elsewhere.”
    Stryder rubbed his brow as a vision of Will in the alehouse, with a goblet in one hand and a maid in the other went through his mind. He groaned at the image. “’Tis a good thing I know where you were last night or else I might think you were the one who quarreled with Cyril and ended his life.”
    Will was ever threatening to tear men apart.
    On second thought, it was seldom a threat, but more often an action they were forever pulling him back from. Yet for all of Will’s willingness to kill others, Stryder doubted the man had really taken part in Cyril’s demise.
    Nay, there was another man who was guilty for the deed.
    Stryder told them of Rowena’s note and watched as one by one their faces turned grimmer.
    “Our enemies haunt us,” Will said.
    “Aye,” Stryder agreed. “I think we should set up sentries after this to ensure no more of us die.”
    “How many members of the Brotherhood are here?” Val asked.
    “With Cyril dead, there’s only us and Christian.”
    “Nay,” Raven said quietly. “I saw Roger of Devonshire earlier this morn. He rode in late last eventide.”
    “Then there are seven of us,” Stryder said. “Inform Roger of what has happened and have him bunk near us. I’ll take the first shift tonight, then we can alternate watch.”
    They nodded in agreement.
    “Just like old times,” Swan said, reminding them all of the days in their youth when they had drawn straws to see who would be sentries against their enemies.
    “Let us hope not,” Raven said, his voice hoarse. “I’ve no desire to return to being frightened of my very shadow.”
    Val draped a long, brotherly arm over his shoulders. “Have no fear, whelp, I’ll see you to manhood yet.”
    Swan grimaced. “Yet another gelding I’m forced with. Mayhap I should take up the first guard. I’m afraid with men such as these at my back.”
    Val swung at his head, but Swan ducked.
    “Enough teasing,” Stryder said sharply. “We need to be wary of everyone here. Remember, there is an enemy among us.”
    They nodded.
    Inclining his head, Stryder made his way from his tent toward the castle.
    Stryder’s intent was to speak to Henry, but he’d no more entered the castle than he’d run headlong into Rowena who was simultaneously trying to dash out the door.
    The impact of her soft curves against him was as exciting as it was shocking. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms about her to keep her from falling.
    Her face was flush, her eyes bright and shining. But more than that, her breathlessness conjured images in his mind of what she would look like in the throes of passion.
    Indeed, it was all he could do to not capture those parted lips with his own and see just how breathless he could make her.
    “Milady, we must stop meeting like this.”
    Her face turned even redder. “It