“Do you see, Wendenal, what it is we’ve been up against?” His neck muscles clenched. “These men only know violence.”

“Be careful who you call a man,” warned the voice behind him, her sword’s point tracing up to the hook of his chin.

“That is quite enough!” came a new voice, a woman’s this time, and Guy could tilt his head just enough to throw an eye at its bearer. Openly mingling with criminals was a new pastime for the Lady Marion Fitzwalter. There was no secret to her involvement with the traitor lord in life, but only rumors placed her with the fallout of his followers. It seemed she had no problem confirming those rumors now. She emerged from a side gullet, a heavy cloak stirring up the ash at her feet.

“Weapons down,” the girl’s voice came from behind, “or I slice him open.”

“You will do no such thing, Elena,” Lady Marion ordered.

“My apologies, lady,” Wendenal’s voice, “but I’m not sure that I know you.”

“My name is Lady Marion Fitzwalter. I am kin to King Richard the Lionheart, and you will hear me out.”

“Under what capacity,” Guy said carefully, feeling the blade follow his jaw, “do you speak here, Lady Marion? Which authority do you claim?”

“As I say, that of my relation to King Richard, and my grandfather, Earl of Essex.”

That was a curious vaguery. “You stand with these outlaws?”

“I stand for what I believe to be right. And it appears you are in need of a calm voice to negotiate.”

Guy would have laughed if the action wouldn’t have killed him. “Just passing by, then? How coincidental.”

“Lady Marion,” Wendenal again, “what do you have in mind?”

“The Sheriff’s offer is decent, but there are too many details to be decided upon here. Here, of all places,” she sounded disgusted. “I will accompany you to the Sheriff along with John Little, whom you will promise safe passage.” That elicited a grumble in the room, though Guy could not tell if it was from his own men or the outlaws. “The four of us will come to an agreement, and until then both sides remain at bay. Little, do you agree to this?”

“Don’t do it, John,” warned one of the thieves.

“All they need is an excuse to put you away.”

Lady Marion’s voice was slow and precise. “I won’t allow that.”

“Aye, lady,” came the massive John’s voice, “I agree.”

Against Guy’s every instinct, the ruined hall felt a little less dangerous. That was something new. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen words win over steel in a situation like this. Even the blade at his neck seemed like an inconvenience now rather than a dire threat. William de Wendenal laughed through the tension.

“Would you mind calling off your … men?” He stumbled awkwardly on the last word.