Gryffen cleared his throat. "Forgive me, milord, but methinks there's been bloodshed enough already. Is there truly a need for more? Can we noi hold him prisoner until this strife with England passes?"
"I fear it will never come to an end. The English have their fingers 'round our neck and they'l not let go." Quiet as his voice was, Barris was fiercely intent. "And Merwen has no dungeon, Gryffen Had I the means to detain him myself, I would do so, but Frydd is no more a fortress than Merwen. 'Twould be only too easy for him to escape and re-turn with more troops." He pondered a moment. 'To let him live is a death sentence for the rest of us."
"Better him than us," proclaimed a knight from the doorway.
Throughout, Thorne held himself very stil . A
chill swept through to the very marrow of his
bones. He did not delude himself. He knew ful
well what they intended. It was murder they wers about. His murder.
Barris glanced back at him. "I'm afraid we have no choice," he said tonelessly. "The earl must die."
Through a haze, Shana heard her own voice, though she was not aware that she spoke. She heard herself whisper, "When?"
Barris hesitated, yet his purpose did not sway. "Edward hasn't forgiven the Welsh for their part in supporting Earl Simon at Evesham." He nodded at Thorne. "Now we have one of his most trusted and loyal lieutenants, something I'll wager the king wil not take lightly, should he ever find out. Most likely he would come down on our heads harder stil . Edward must never know he
was here," he stated with blunt finality. "What if he should send his army after him? Nor can we take the chance that someone has followed him here. Nay," he said with a shake of his head, "the sooner our guest here is gone, the better."
Barris gazed at the earl while he spoke. The Englishman was taking the news of his impending execution remarkably well, he decided. A flicker of admiration ran through him, but mingled within was a distinct sense of unease. The earl's lack of emotion was somehow disturbing, his features carved in rigid, stoic lines. Only his eyes betrayed him, leaping like silent lightning, as if he were a predator who awaited the right moment to pounce on his prey.
Again Barris's gaze came to bear on Shana. He was moved to pity for he suspected she had not realized it would come to this. He pulled her aside and reached for her hands. They were ice-cold. "Shana," he said softly. "There is no other way but to see him executed. Merwen has lost too many lives already. I'll not risk any more." Especial y yours, he added silently.
Shana gave a tiny shake of her head, duty and resilience faltering. She swal owed painfully, her eyes coming up to meet his. "Then let it be done," she whispered. "Just ... let it be done."
He squeezed her hands in gentle encouragement and released her. He turned to accompany her from the hal , but the pair had scarce retreated more than a step before the earl's voice rang out.
"Wait!"
They turned. The earl's gaze encompassed them both, piercing and unwavering. "I demand to see a priest."
Barris's eyes narrowed. "As I see it, you are hardly in a position to make demands." When the earl said nothing, he smiled thinly. "A priest, you
say! Why, milord, do you mean to tel me you wish to atone for your many sins?"
Thorne neither confirmed nor denied it. "I appeal to your mercy, milord, milady. Is it not enough that you've sentenced me to death? Or would you send me there without God's blessing?"
There was naught of entreaty in either his voice or his face as he boldly confronted them.
Barris scowled. "You gave no such consideration to those you kil ed here," he said sharply.
"Yet you dare to expect such leniency from us?"
Thorne regarded them unblinkingly. "I wish a priest," was al he would say.
Sir Gryffen stepped forward. "Father Meredith was killed in the fray," he said quietly. He looked to Shana. "It would be wel into the night before I returned, but I wil ride to the
"I fear it will never come to an end. The English have their fingers 'round our neck and they'l not let go." Quiet as his voice was, Barris was fiercely intent. "And Merwen has no dungeon, Gryffen Had I the means to detain him myself, I would do so, but Frydd is no more a fortress than Merwen. 'Twould be only too easy for him to escape and re-turn with more troops." He pondered a moment. 'To let him live is a death sentence for the rest of us."
"Better him than us," proclaimed a knight from the doorway.
Throughout, Thorne held himself very stil . A
chill swept through to the very marrow of his
bones. He did not delude himself. He knew ful
well what they intended. It was murder they wers about. His murder.
Barris glanced back at him. "I'm afraid we have no choice," he said tonelessly. "The earl must die."
Through a haze, Shana heard her own voice, though she was not aware that she spoke. She heard herself whisper, "When?"
Barris hesitated, yet his purpose did not sway. "Edward hasn't forgiven the Welsh for their part in supporting Earl Simon at Evesham." He nodded at Thorne. "Now we have one of his most trusted and loyal lieutenants, something I'll wager the king wil not take lightly, should he ever find out. Most likely he would come down on our heads harder stil . Edward must never know he
was here," he stated with blunt finality. "What if he should send his army after him? Nor can we take the chance that someone has followed him here. Nay," he said with a shake of his head, "the sooner our guest here is gone, the better."
Barris gazed at the earl while he spoke. The Englishman was taking the news of his impending execution remarkably well, he decided. A flicker of admiration ran through him, but mingled within was a distinct sense of unease. The earl's lack of emotion was somehow disturbing, his features carved in rigid, stoic lines. Only his eyes betrayed him, leaping like silent lightning, as if he were a predator who awaited the right moment to pounce on his prey.
Again Barris's gaze came to bear on Shana. He was moved to pity for he suspected she had not realized it would come to this. He pulled her aside and reached for her hands. They were ice-cold. "Shana," he said softly. "There is no other way but to see him executed. Merwen has lost too many lives already. I'll not risk any more." Especial y yours, he added silently.
Shana gave a tiny shake of her head, duty and resilience faltering. She swal owed painfully, her eyes coming up to meet his. "Then let it be done," she whispered. "Just ... let it be done."
He squeezed her hands in gentle encouragement and released her. He turned to accompany her from the hal , but the pair had scarce retreated more than a step before the earl's voice rang out.
"Wait!"
They turned. The earl's gaze encompassed them both, piercing and unwavering. "I demand to see a priest."
Barris's eyes narrowed. "As I see it, you are hardly in a position to make demands." When the earl said nothing, he smiled thinly. "A priest, you
say! Why, milord, do you mean to tel me you wish to atone for your many sins?"
Thorne neither confirmed nor denied it. "I appeal to your mercy, milord, milady. Is it not enough that you've sentenced me to death? Or would you send me there without God's blessing?"
There was naught of entreaty in either his voice or his face as he boldly confronted them.
Barris scowled. "You gave no such consideration to those you kil ed here," he said sharply.
"Yet you dare to expect such leniency from us?"
Thorne regarded them unblinkingly. "I wish a priest," was al he would say.
Sir Gryffen stepped forward. "Father Meredith was killed in the fray," he said quietly. He looked to Shana. "It would be wel into the night before I returned, but I wil ride to the
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