This involved leaving the castle tower and marching down to the main manor at the bottom of the round hill. By the time they intruded on Red Roger’s private dinner, John was fully versed on the old Earl of Warwick. He seemed a detestably loyal man, and ferociously protective of his family. Gay Wally said that Waleran had once fed a man to a bear simply for doing an unfavorable impersonation of his brother. John didn’t mind a man having a cruel streak, but a loyal one was unnerving. John wasn’t so sure he wanted to climb into bed with anything that valued honor over intelligence.

Baron de Busli made the same face he had made when John took his daughter off to the tower. It was possible that he was only capable of making one face, which he used for every emotion. Food and gravy coated his moustache, which had not required any help to look ridiculous.

“What are you doing in here?” the baron nearly choked, spewing uneaten chunks of disgusting.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you,” John answered, “as I assume that’s what you meant to ask.”

The baron ate alone, though there were many men present. Three or four servants bustled about, filling the baron’s wine or bringing new plates, while in the corner a boy who would never enjoy a woman was abusing a harp.

“I’m fat and have too much food in my mouth,” was not what Red Roger said, but it was the best translation John could think of. He followed it with, “Oh, I’ll bet I can cram that in here, too,” as he shoveled something greasy from his paws past his lips.

“I have one matter to tend to before I leave,” John called out. “An opinion. Baron Roger de Lacy, the Sheriff of Nottingham, is not long for his office. I’m to decide on his successor.”

“High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, and the Royal Forests,” Gay Wally quickly corrected, blinking, but John gave him the tiniest of nods not to speak, and it almost seemed that he understood why.

Red Roger took another bite before he spoke. “If I may,” the words gurgled out, and all waited as he picked a thing from his teeth. “Sheriff de Lacy is a waste of shit. He’s tried to coddle Nottinghamshire like a baby. But it isn’t a baby, it’s a wolf, and still he tries to let it suckle him, teeth and all.”

He grinned and laughed, and those that served him laughed as well.

“This county needs a man who isn’t afraid to get bloody.”

A thick bald guard behind the baron bellowed out “Red Roger!” which was picked up and repeated a few times by the others. The bellower was congratulated by the other men near him.