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Chapters (30)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Also By Elizabeth Kingston
  4. The King's Man (Welsh Blades, #1)
  5. Historical Note
  6. CHAPTER 1
  7. CHAPTER 2
  8. CHAPTER 3
  9. CHAPTER 4
  10. CHAPTER 5
  11. CHAPTER 6
  12. CHAPTER 7
  13. CHAPTER 8
  14. CHAPTER 9
  15. CHAPTER 10
  16. CHAPTER 11
  17. CHAPTER 12
  18. CHAPTER 13
  19. CHAPTER 14
  20. CHAPTER 15
  21. CHAPTER 16
  22. CHAPTER 17
  23. CHAPTER 18
  24. CHAPTER 19
  25. CHAPTER 20
  26. CHAPTER 21
  27. Excerpt, Book #2: Fair, Bright, and Terrible
  28. Acknowledgements
  29. Don't miss out!
  30. About the Author

He waited a long time without moving, as long as he could bear it. But she did not turn her eyes away. It was he, fearing that he could not go another moment without losing control, who shifted his glance to look into the distance and say, “There’s game aplenty here, and a hot supper awaits us, do we make haste to build camp before night falls.”

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CHAPTER 8
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After days of hiding behind leaden clouds, a hot sun beat down on them – a summer day fresh from the cleansing rains in the night. Ranulf could have almost believed himself in the Holy Land again, but for the lush green all around him and the woman in front of him.

They had walked all morning in silence. He stared at her back now as she led the way through the trees. There was no cause to question her direction, though he knew from the talk of her men that they had never wandered so far from Ruardean. She read the signs of the forest as well as he could have, probably even better. Surely, they would soon come to the river again, and her men, and they would be on their way to Windsor.

He had given up the notion of running entirely, somewhere in the wet night. He had managed to catch three fine hares and she had taken them from him casually, remarking with a note of admiration that he’d chosen fine fat things for dinner. When she began to skin and clean the first, she silenced his protest with an easy, “One kills and the other cleans, is only just. Build the fire, and we’ll have the oatcakes from my purse.” And so they did. In the night, she woke him when the first drops of rain sifted through the trees and bade him move himself under the shelter of the nearby rock overhang. He lay there listening to the rain, warm and dry and with a sword at his side because of her, and considered his options.

In the end, he knew, he would be found. No matter if he returned to his Morency lands or continued in the vain wandering that had brought him to Wales, Edward would find him. He could not feel the anger anymore when he thought of the summons. He felt only futility. Edward commanded him to court, and though Ranulf did not know what service was needed, he could well guess that it would require blood and the sword. It was unjust to assume that Edward would require any service more villainous than dealing with the tiresome Gascons, and France was as good a place as any to live and fight and die.