Silverhawk by Barbara Bettis

serve the king?” She sounded incredulous. “How could that be?”
    “It couldn’t. Anyone who knew the scoundrel would know better. He will always serve John. I’ll wager his mission is to create trouble for Richard, not prevent it.”
    Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of running feet. “Silverhawk?” The question preceded the boy.
    “Oh. Sorry, m’lord. I was lookin’ for the Silverhawk. He was right ’ere, visitin’ ’is ’orse.”
    “Well, lad, you can see he’s gone now. You’d best get back to your duties.”
    “Yes, sir.” The sound of steps faded before the stall door opened. A hoof still propped on his knee, Giles looked up at Henry and lifted his brows. Lady Evie peered around her brother.
    No one spoke. Giles placed the hoof on the floor and rose.
    “You wanted to talk to me?” He looked Henry in the eye.
    “Were you satisfied at what you heard?” Henry’s voice was low but hard.
    “What reason would I have to interrupt? Surely you knew I was here. Your orders, after all.” Giles stepped to the back wall, his arms hanging loosely, his fingers flexing.
    Henry’s gaze didn’t move from him. “Evie, go back to the hall.”
    “I have as much right as you to know what that hound of hell is up to.” The lady didn’t sound at all intimidated by her brother’s threatening tone.
    Giles smoothly interceded. “I’ve been called many things before, but never that.”
    “Oh!” she sputtered. “I meant—”
    Never taking his gaze from Giles, Henry said, “He knows what you meant. But leave us to talk. I’ll fill you in later.”
    “Oh, all right.” She sighed. “I never have any adventure.”
    Henry seemed disarmed. “My dear, you’ve had enough ‘adventure’ to last a gentle woman two lifetimes.” He kissed her forehead. “Go on, now.”
    Giles watched the touching scene with a twist of his lips. “I detect a story there,” he said as Henry turned back.
    “Another time.” Henry considered him for a moment, then sighed as if reaching a decision. “Do you have more information about this supposed threat to England?”
    Giles leaned against the wall, accepted the snub. Other families’ drama wasn’t his job. “Nothing you don’t already know. Why don’t you tell me about this Lord Paxton? You appear to know him.”
    Henry looked away. Silence stretched. Perhaps the lord didn’t entirely trust him. Why should he? I’m just the messenger.
    After a moment, the other man shot him a look then nodded toward the door. “Let’s walk.”
    Although dark enveloped the curtain wall, the bailey remained busy, and a clatter rose from the training field. The two made their way toward the spot where a pair of knights showed off in the guise of practice in defiance of the approaching night. Lowering his voice, Henry outlined his family’s history with Lord Paxton.
    “The day after my sister, Alyss, and her husband, Roark, were married, Paxton appeared at Chauvere with an order from Prince John to wed Alyss. When he discovered he’d been thwarted, he met King Richard in Nottingham. This was three years ago, right after the king’s ransom had been delivered, and he’d been released. You’re from Normandy; you may not know Prince John had consolidated power in England.
    “He was banished, but a few of his castles held out. Nottingham was one of the last. The king, himself, journeyed here to command the surrender, then stayed on for a Council. Paxton accused my brother-in-law of treason. Fortunately, I was able to provide evidence that set him free. Paxton was stripped of his land and title, and he disappeared from England.”
    Giles grimaced. “The king must have given him another chance.” From Henry’s silence, Giles guessed his words merely glossed the story.
    Instead of explaining more, Henry asked, “Do you return to Normandy now?” He uncrossed his arms and straightened. “But no, you had something else to attend to in England, you said. Where will that