“The advice that I rape her?” the captain asked. Ser Michael caught his breath.

“Rape is a strong word,” Bad Tom said. He scratched his beard. “Some ladies like a little persuading. Like horses.”

Ser Gabriel drank a dipper full of cold water and spat a little blood. “I don’t think that would have worked,” he said.

Bad Tom looked out over the great north woods. “Aye. It doesn’t always work.” He grinned. “But it can save a mort of time.”

Ser Gabriel looked at his friend. “Tom, what would you do if a lady pushed you to the ground and stuck her tongue in your mouth?”

Ser Michael snorted.

Tom snorted. “Is this something philosophical? Because by our lady, I promise you that will never happen here in the world.” More soberly, he sighed. “But I take your point.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Michael took Toby by the elbow and hauled him out of the small side-yard where the pells stood.

“She said no,” Tom said, with a glance at Michael’s retreating back.

“She’s working with my mother,” Gabriel said.

Tom shrugged. “Who cares? You love her?”

Gabriel nodded.

“Well, then, bide your time.”

Gabriel laughed. “I’m getting advice on love from a Hillman.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Well, laddy, I might point out that I have a fearsome record of lovers and you, as far as I know, seem to miss more than you make. You might do better than take my advice.” He looked at the smaller man. “I reckon there’s been mayhap twenty nights in the last hundred I haven’t had a woman to warm my bed. Most of them would do’t again. Hae you done as well?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m not sure this is a matter where a high score indicates victory, but very well. Your advice is?”

“This castle is full of lasses who would jump in the blankets with ye for a song. For a look and a smile. The bronze-eyed vixen as waits on your lady mother…”

“Your advice is that I can win the love of a nun by fornicating with my mother’s maid?” Gabriel asked.

Tom smiled lazily. “Aye. That sums it up nicely.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I need to talk to my mother. I’m just avoiding my duty.” He got up. “Thanks for the fight. I’m sorry I cheated. I’m angry.”

“Oh, aye,” Tom said. “I’d never hae guessed.” He put an arm around the younger man. “Best rid yourself o’it.”

“Of what?” Gabriel asked.

“Father Arnaud’s death,” Tom said. “He’s dead. He died well. All glory to him. And you know what’s wrong wi’ you? You want to be God. You want to hae saved him. An’ you did not. He died.”

Gabriel sighed.