A Knight of Honor (5 page)

“What can I do for you, m’lord?”

Slane turned to see a short man standing beside him.

The top of his balding head barely reached Slane’s shoulder.
 
“I’m looking for a man called Jared Mantle.”

The innkeeper chortled.
 
“M’lord must understand that I can’t just –”

Slane quickly produced a gold coin, silencing the man’s objections.
 
The innkeeper pointed a chubby finger in the direction of a back table, where two men were sitting.
 
Slane tossed over the gold coin and moved through the room toward the table.

A lone candle illuminated the two figures in earnest conversation, one of them possibly a merchant -- no self- respecting tracker would wear such gaudy colors, nor tie a yellow-and-red scarf about his waist.
 
Slane’s eyes quickly assessed the other man’s well-worn leather armor and easy confidence, and he knew that this man must be Jared.
 
He was much older than Slane had anticipated, but his age was probably a testament to his skill.
 
He was still alive, after all.
 
“Jared Mantle?” Slane asked.

The man raised his eyes, eyes that were suspicious and alert, to meet Slane’s.
 
“Who’s asking?”

Slane swiveled his gaze to the merchant and then back to Jared.
 
“Slane Donovan.”

Jared’s eyes narrowed slightly.
 
“I’m Mantle.
 
Do we have business?”

“I’d like to hire you.”

“I’m in the process of doing the exact same thing,” the merchant protested.

“I can offer you double what this man is offering,” Slane said.
 
“I need your services immediately.”

Jared’s eyes shifted to the merchant.
 
“Can you better that?”

The merchant shook his head and rose from the table.
 
“Perhaps next time,” he murmured, casting Slane an irritated glance before moving away.

When Slane took the vacated seat, Jared asked, “What services do you require?”

Slane couldn’t help but notice the skepticism in his voice.
 
Had Jared had dealings with his brother, Richard?
 
No matter.
 
“I need you to find a ring.”

“A ring?” Jared echoed.
 
“What importance does a ring hold to you?”

“That is my concern.
 
Can you track such a thing?”

“What does it look like?”

Slane opened his mouth to respond when a woman slipped into the empty chair beside Jared.
 
Annoyed at her presumption, Slane scowled...
 
until he saw her face.
 
It was covered in bruises and healing scabs.
 
“God’s blood!” he exclaimed.
 
“Where did you get those injuries?”

The woman glanced over at Slane.
 
The one eye that wasn’t puffed closed narrowed instantly, and her swollen lip curled into a humorless grin.
 
“A friend.”

He stiffened at her cold tone.
 
“If you’ll kindly excuse us, we are in the middle of a business transaction.
 
I’m not in need of your services.”

The woman didn’t budge.
 
“If it’s business, then you can talk to me as well.
 
Jared and I are partners.”

Slane darted a glance at Jared, who nodded, an amused look crinkling his eyes.
 
“I’m only hiring you,” he said to Jared.

“We come together or not at all,” Jared replied.

Slane turned his thoughtful gaze to her.
 
She responded with a chilly glare.
 
He turned back to Jared.
 
“Fine.
 
But I don’t intend to pay any more than I did before.”

“For the work of two?” the woman objected.

Slane crossed his arms.
 
“Take it or leave it.”

He watched her shoulders sink as she sighed and glanced at Jared, who nodded once.
 
“What’s the job?” she asked.

Slane leaned across the table.
 
“I’m looking for a ring.
 
Two swords crossed under an S.”

Jared and the girl sat motionless for a long moment, then looked at each other.
 
Suddenly, the woman began to laugh.

“What is so funny?” Slane snapped.

She met his solemn look with amusement.
 
“This is going to be the easiest coin we’ve ever worked for,” she replied.

Slane frowned quizzically.
 
“You know where it is?”

She nodded and began to rise, but Slane grabbed her arm, halting her movement.
 
“Look, woman.
 
If you know where it is, tell me.
 
We can begin and end your employment right here.”

She hesitated for a moment casting an unreadable look at Jared.
 
“Sully,” she finally said, her lips curving up in a grin.
 
With her swollen lip, the smile was more grotesque than appealing.
 
“My name is Sully, not woman.”

***

Taylor leaned against a wall and crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded Slane out of curious eyes.
 
What could he possibly want with her mother’s ring?
 
They had been traveling together for half a day now and he hadn’t spoken one more word about it

He glanced at her and she smiled brilliantly through her cut and fattened lips.
 
He scowled and turned away.

At least he’s consistent, she thought.
 
Her gaze shifted to Jared, who was speaking earnestly with a large man -- a man who was almost as tall as Slane but with a much less flattering physique.
 
His belly flopped over his breeches; the muscles in his arms were slack.
 
Jared had sensed he was the town gossipmonger the second he laid eyes on him.
 
And as usual, Jared was right.
 
The large man looked at her and smiled, then glanced back at Jared and spoke quickly to him.

Taylor shifted slightly.
 
“This ring must be very important to rouse you from the comfort of Castle Donovan.”

“Yes,” Slane answered stiffly.

“No more tournaments to play in?” she quipped.

He stared curiously at her.

She cast him a wry look.
 
It was like speaking to a wall.
 
A well-muscled wall, with long, glorious blond hair, but a wall nonetheless.

Jared and the man headed over to them, Jared wearing the same exasperated expression he always wore when some man would insist on propositioning her.
 
Taylor shook her head.
 
They never learned.
 
Or were there just too many to teach?

“He says he won’t give me any information unless you bed him,” Jared explained.

As a large, eager grin split the man’s lips, Slane’s eyes widened in outrage.

Taylor pushed herself from the wall, placing a hand on Slane’s chest to quiet him.
 
“I’m used to it,” she said.

“You’re not thinking –” Slane began, but Taylor turned her attention to Jared.

“You offered him a gold coin?”

Jared shrugged slightly.
 
“Two,” he said.

Taylor smiled at the large man.
 
“You know, you’re being quite unreasonable about this,” she told him.
 
“All we need is information.
 
You’ve seen the ring?”

The man nodded.
 
“I’ve seen it.
 
But that’s all you’ll get from me unless I see some action.”

“Action?” Taylor repeated.
 
“Is that all you want?”
 
She half turned to Slane, clenched her fist, and turned back to the man, ramming her balled fingers into his stomach.

The man doubled over.
 
Taylor shoved the brutish lout backward over Jared’s carefully positioned foot and he slammed into the ground.
 
Taylor whipped out her dagger and held it to the man’s neck.
 
“Is this the type of action you wanted?” she asked.

The man fought back the urge to swallow as Taylor pressed the side of the blade against his throat.

“All we want is a little information about the ring.
 
I know that you’ll be very accommodating, won’t you?”
 
Taylor eased the tip slightly from the man’s neck.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the man gasped.

“Out with it,” she ordered.

“They went toward Briarwood,” he gasped.
 
“I swear that’s all I know.
 
They rode north!”

Taylor paused for a long moment.
 
She knew he was too shocked and scared to lie.
 
Still, she liked the feeling of this slime groveling in the dirt.
 
“Maybe next time you’ll think before you insult a woman,” she said and slowly stood up.

The man sat up, putting his hands to his throat, eyeing her with hatred.

Jared joined her, standing protectively behind her.

Finally, the man narrowed his eyes, stood and scrambled away.

Taylor’s lips quirked up in a grin of satisfaction.

“I bet you make a lot of friends that way,” Slane said and moved toward the stables.

“No one needs friends like that,” Taylor retorted, casting one last glance at the man’s retreating back before following Slane.

“Good job,” Jared congratulated as he trailed after the duo.

***

Slane rode behind Sully and Jared.
 
His gaze lingered on the woman, this enigmatic Sully.
 
Her long, braided black hair swung back and forth over her cuir-bouilli armor.
 
The hard leather armor had been worked and shaped to fit her tiny figure.
 
And the leather maker had done an admirable job.
 
It fit her very well indeed.
 
She wore black leggings beneath her armor.
 
Black boots hid her calves.
 
The sword strapped to her waist continued to catch his attention every time he glanced at her.
 
He had rarely seen a woman with a blade and wondered how good she was at wielding the weapon.

It was a shame he probably wouldn’t have time to find out.
 
He turned his concentration back to his mission.

The Sullivan woman.

He was certain that once he found the ring, he would find the girl and his search would be over.
 
He wondered what she looked like.
 
Had eight years on her own taken their toll?
 
Was she haggard and gaunt from lack of food and working too hard?
 
Did she look older than her twenty years?
 
He knew she had dark hair.
 
But that was all he knew of her.