Trouble in the Forest Book One: A Cold Summer Night by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page B

you could have fought them off.”
    “Not those outlaws. They are worse than wolves. They are worse than famine. They were worse than the ocean in a storm,” the man said grimly. “They were on us—us, not our goods—like the Devil’s own. Nothing escaped their attack. Ravening beasts they were, seeking blood with a fury beasts cannot match. A few went for our horses and mules, but most of them came for us.” He looked down at his ruined clothes. “The forest did little of this, or our flight. Most of it was done by the outlaws.”
    Sir Humphrey acknowledged this absurd assertion with a slight nod and the request that the merchant tell him how he recalled their escape from the outlaws, all the while determining how to make his report so that none of this would be to his discredit. After all, he reasoned, outlaws attacked merchants from time to time, and these outlaws had taken mules and horses and cloth, and murdered the merchants’ escort. It made sense that the victims would magnify the events, being unused to combat as they were. Doubtless he would be doing the merchants a service not to repeat their exaggerations, for it would only bring derision upon them later.
    Satisfied that his decision about his report would prove best for everyone, Sir Humphrey swung around to see the farrier hurrying forward, his two apprentices trailing along behind. Soon, thought Sir Humphrey, it would be out of my hands. And by the time deSteny learned of this event, he would have the whole account ready, and his position protected. There would be no inquiry beyond the usual, and Sir Humphrey would retain the prestige he had worked so hard to achieve.

How Sir Gui charged deSteny

    NOTHING annoyed Sir Gui deGisbourne as much as bad news, and never more than when it came from Hugh deSteny, since he knew of old that his Sheriff did not approach him on minor matters. He was not in humor to have bad news today, and he took it badly that the Sheriff had come to wait upon him. Pulling at his neat, little beard, he met deSteny with his best forbidding frown as deSteny went onto his knee and kissed his hand as a sign of homage. He pulled his hand away at once and fixed deSteny with a ferocious glare.
    “Very well, Sheriff, what is it this time? I had better warn you that I am not inclined to be lenient today,” he said without any exchange of pleasantries. He leaned back in his chair and fixed deSteny with his most penetrating stare, to show how much of an imposition this audience was.
    “I would not have come if I did not require your authorization to undertake a necessary operation,” said deSteny, using the phrases he had been rehearsing for more than a day. He got to his feet and stood very straight in front of his elegant and decadent superior. “I would not ask if I were not convinced that we must act quickly or face greater dangers than already exist.”
    “Yes. So I gathered from your message. My clerk read it to me as soon as I came in from hunting, though I confess it has left me confused.” He had the knack of being able to look down his nose at someone standing above him, and he used it now. “What is this danger that has you—of all men—in such a dither? It’s not the merchants, is it? Sir Humphrey already told me about them.”
    DeSteny reminded himself that he was not going to let Sir Gui aggravate him, no matter how insufferable his attitude might be. Much as he hated being characterized as one who dithers, he bore it as best he could. He made his countenance expressionless. “No, this is not about Sir Humphrey, not directly. You have not been on Crusade, have you, my Lord?”
    “You know very well I have not,” said Sir Gui impatiently. “If this has more to do with disabled soldiers returning, well, I am heartily sorry for them, of course, but they are the King’s men, not mine, and they must look to him for their livelihood. I am not one to attach another man’s vassals.” He waved his hand to indicate that