“Indeed? What an interesting coincidence. There are many from Pry-Ree in this Hundred, Queen Dowager. It is, after all, across the water from us. Traders come and go every day selling goods.”

“Traitors, you say?” she asked.

“Traders – those who buy and sell.”

“Ah, I see. So what you are saying, Aldermaston, is if I visit every fletcher in this Hundred, I will find others who can make arrows such as this?”

The Aldermaston paused, eyeing her shrewdly. “I presume you already have or you would not be asking that question. What are you suggesting, Madam?”

Her voice fell lower. “I believe you know who murdered my lord husband. Even though you cannot leave the Abbey grounds, you know. Very little, if anything, passes your notice. As an Aldermaston, you are forbidden to lie. But as a wise man, you know how to avoid speaking the truth. That is what I am suggesting. Your missing hunter. You sent him away when you learned we were coming. I suggest you did so to protect him.”

The Aldermaston’s face was hard as stone, but Lia could see the flames of anger in his eyes. Just as softly, he replied, “The cloister is an inappropriate place to hold such an important conversation. We will retire to my study to discuss this further. You are quite mistaken.”

Lia heard bootsteps on the walkway outside and then the porter’s key jiggled in the lock. As she turned, she stood face-to-face with the Earl of Dieyre. He looked at each of their faces and then a smirk twisted on his mouth, as if he savored contention. “Please tell me that we are not hunting today. I am wetter than a pup plunged in a moat and do not fancy the treachery of mud.”

“The Aldermaston forbids it,” Pareigis replied tautly.

“Well I for one think he is wise as well as aged. Tell me, Aldermaston. I understand you have a copy of Ovidius here – perhaps even the original tome. Is that true?”

“Not the original, of course.” The Aldermaston looked choked with fury.

“I have not read it since my days as a learner. With your permission, Aldermaston?” He bowed gracefully.

“Shall we continue our conversation?” the Queen Dowager asked, her eyes gleaming.

Both were staring at the Aldermaston to see what he would do. Lia wanted to say something, but she had no idea what. It was happening so quickly. There was a reason Dieyre wanted to linger behind in the cloister, and he did not want the Aldermaston there. A glance at Ellowyn’s table was all it took.

A thought brushed against her mind. She looked up at the Aldermaston in shock.

Safeguard Ellowyn.

It was softer than a whisper, just a fleeting thought that flitted by and was gone. She was not certain she had even heard it. The Aldermaston stared at her, his eyes boring into hers. Slowly, she nodded and he looked relieved.

Guerney held the door for the Aldermaston and Queen Dowager and then shut it behind them and locked it. Dieyre was already moving past her towards the table and Ellowyn Demont.

* * *

“Wherever there is danger, there lurks opportunity; whenever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two are inseparable. They go together.”

- Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

* * *

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

Billerbeck’s Kiss

How does a single hunter, a girl, stop the best swordsman in the realm? Lia wondered as she followed Dieyre into the study room. In her mind, she thought of all the training she had from Martin. She could stomp on his foot. Yank him off-balance by clutching his belt or sleeve. A jab to the throat or eyes with her fingers. Her heartbeat surged in her chest and a sickening chill went through her body at the thought of hurting him. Or trying and ending up face-down on the floor herself. She focused her thoughts, crushing the fear that engulfed her. Martin had trained her. That had to be good enough.

Marciana stared loathingly at Dieyre as he approached the table, and she could see by the flush on her face and daggers in her eyes that they knew each other.

“Is that Ovidius?” he said mockingly. “The tome of love as it is called? Are you not weary of only reading about it, Ciana?”

“What would you know about love, Dieyre?”

“Plenty. As I showed you in Billerbeck.” He turned his salute to Ellowyn. “So you are Demont’s niece? Not as pretty as I was expecting, given your famous lineage. We are not all equally endowed. It must be the Pry-rian blood tainting you. I am jesting, darling. You had best get used to it for I am good at little else.”

“Hello,” Ellowyn said, her face going scarlet with mortification and she stared at her hands. There was no Colvin to retreat behind.