An Outlaw's Honor - Terri Brisbin Page 0,2

are undefeated in battle, whether on the field of war or honor. Is that true?” The king watched him with an intent stare even as he drank from his cup at ease.

“Though not of late,” Thomas replied. Then he nodded. “Aye.”

Once declared outlaw, Thomas had kept alive by moving around the country and continent, earning his way without a name by selling his sword to anyone who would pay in gold with no questions asked. Only when his prowess on the field became the talk of gossips and the court had his identity been discovered, and imprisonment on the orders of the Scottish king had followed. He’d not fought in months—his horse, his armor and his hard-won gold all taken on his arrest.

“I am in need of someone to carry out a task for me.”

Thomas could not breathe. His chest refused to take in air. Hope swirled around him, and he struggled against the urge to seize it. He was a yet-walking-dead man, ordered to be executed at the king’s pleasure and held starving in the dungeon while the king dealt with matters more important than a traitorous knight from a minor, though treasonous, family. Yet, the king’s words inspired him.

Nay! He would not fall fool for a hint of something. For all he knew, the king was simply inflicting more pain and suffering on him before the final blow. Offering food to a starving man who would but die in another manner sooner was not kindness or benevolence. ’Twas cruelty, and well-deserved at that.

The king let out a loud breath and slammed his cup on the table. “I would have thought you would be pleased by the offer of a way to avoid sure death at the hands of my executioner, and instead face one that you might avoid by using your reputed skills on the field.” In his confusion, Thomas searched for the correct words to say. He stood to his full height and nodded at the king.

“I serve at the pleasure of the king, Your Grace.”

“That is what I hoped to hear, Thomas Brisbois of Kelso.” The king walked to the door, and it opened for him. Attendants were listening to accommodate their king’s needs without a word spoken. “See to his comfort.” Servants poured into the chamber then, and the king turned to leave.

“Your Grace? The task?”

“At my pleasure, Thomas. At my pleasure.”

The king walked from the chamber, and Thomas found himself in a whirling storm of well-trained servants following orders. It was days later when the king called Thomas before him to explain exactly what his task would be.

As the next weeks passed in preparation, Thomas wondered if death by the king’s executioner would have indeed been easier.

Chapter Two

Prudhoe Castle

Northumberland, England

Late in the month of May, in the year of Our Lord 1193

Annora watched as another messenger, this one wearing the livery of a noble house she did not recognize, arrived in the Great Hall and was escorted to the chamber where her father waited. Something strange was afoot, and Lord Robert de Umfraville was deep in the middle of it. This had been happening for weeks now, and yet her father had not spoken a word to her about it. Standing now and pacing before the huge hearth there, she wondered where the steward was.

“What is bothering you, child?” Her elderly aunt came to her side and took her hand. “Come, sit. I will ask them to bring some warmed wine to settle your spirits.”

“Pray you to pardon me for disturbing your needlework, Aunt Eldrida.” She patted her aunt’s hand and led her back to her chair near the hearth. No matter that spring had arrived here in Northumberland, ’twas damp and cold inside the keep of Prudhoe Castle. “Here, remain nearer the heat.”

There were times when her late mother’s oldest sister seemed to lose her wits and her way, but once seated, Aunt Eldrida astonished Annora.

“I suspect your father is negotiating some sort of treaty or bargain that involves the king, or mayhap, his brother.” Her aunt leaned closer to Annora and whispered then, “The ones who arrive without markings are usually from Prince John. He likes to hide what he does behind the king’s back.”

“Aunt Eldrida!” she said, drawing her aunt even nearer. “You must have a care not to say such things aloud. Especially when there are so many strangers coming and going.” Annora trusted those few servants who saw to her needs, but not any of the others who worked