Knight's Ransom (The First Argentines #1)

Whispers from the Fountain

Noemie’s words itched inside Ransom’s mind, festering like a dirty wound. He did not trust her, not in the smallest degree, yet her actions, especially since that interlude in the shadows of the tower, seemed to match her words. Whenever he was in the same room as her, she would often look his way. The moment their eyes met, she’d look down, her hands trembling, her conversation distracted. Everything about it felt wrong, and the knowledge of how she felt—or claimed she felt—clashed with his sense of honor, his sense of himself, and his feelings of duty to his king and his friend. And the ache he carried in his heart for Claire.

He did all that he could to stay away from Devon’s wife, to not let her trap him into conversation as she had done in the tower. She didn’t touch him, or give him any outward show of kindness. But those eyes, pleading and raw, unsettled him. And her words were a mystery he could not comprehend. She’d made it sound as if their love had been preordained somehow. He was mystified by it, feeling as if he were walking in a fog. The stolen moments with Claire and the queen were the only times when he felt his mind was clear.

Devon’s entourage rode their horses to Brythonica, armor bright and polished, banners fluttering in the air. Noemie rode alongside Devon, her jewels glittering in the sun, the silk scarves wrapping her headdress, trailing in the breeze, her posture elegant atop the strong chestnut she rode. He saw her laughing and talking with her husband. But every once in a while, she would look back at Ransom, and he would look away, pretending to enjoy the scenery while he felt that awful tugging sensation in his chest, one that pulled him between attraction to the beautiful princess and his deep misgivings about what she intended. Why would she deliberately try to tempt him when he showed no interest in her at all?

He sensed a horse approach alongside him and turned to find Sir Simon of Holmberg there in his shadow.

“Are you looking for money to borrow, Simon?” he asked, smiling at his fellow knight.

“Not yet, of course,” replied the knight. “Actually, the king’s steward has more than compensated you for the previous loans. Not to mention your first payment arrived from your new castle in Gison. You are becoming a wealthy man, Ransom, for you spend very little of what is your own. The other knights in the mesnie squander their income. You and I are the only ones who seem capable of keeping our heads when it comes to debt.”

“Life is a harsh and foul-smelling bill collector,” Ransom said. “I never want to be a debtor to that foul onion again.”

“Have you been to your new castle yet?”

“No, but I hope to visit it after this next tournament. My father’s castle was always in a bad state of repair. I hope the one in Gison doesn’t cost me more than it’s worth.”

“With that attitude, you won’t be taken in easily,” Simon said approvingly. Then he lowered his voice. “Do you consider me a friend? Or, if that is too strong a word, an ally?”

Ransom turned his head and gave Simon a confused look. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, Simon. I do consider you a friend.”

“Can I offer you a friend’s advice, then? Even if it is something you’ll not want to hear?”

A concerned lump formed in Ransom’s stomach. “Of course you can.”

“I’ve overheard Sir Robert talking to some of the others. He’s jealous of you, Ransom. Surely you know that.”

“If you thought that would surprise or offend me, you’re mistaken,” Ransom said softly, his insides throbbing with sudden anger.

“Wait until you hear what he says behind your back. What he says to Talbot and sometimes Alain. He said you’re playing Devon for the fool. That you and the princess have been meeting secretly.”

The injustice of the accusation stung him. “That’s not true,” he said, his temper flashing.

“Whether or not it’s true,” Simon said, his voice suddenly pleading, “be careful. Robert is watching you, determined to find you out or find something incriminating. I’ve seen her look at you, Ransom. Something’s changed. She used to look at you with indifference or scorn, but not anymore.”

Ransom closed his eyes, the anguish increasing. He wasn’t the only one who had noticed then. He opened his eyes and turned to look Simon in the face. “I swear on my honor I’ve done nothing wrong.” He held up his wrist and rubbed the braided bracelet that Claire had given to him. “I already wear a lady’s favor for all the world to see. And I would never betray the king.”

Simon looked at him, his expression neutral. “I believe you. But be careful, Ransom. Be very careful.”



They arrived in the beautiful seaside city of Ploemeur, and servants brought them up a winding cliff to the palace built atop a jagged mountain crest. It was a beautiful country with fields of ripe berries being harvested by farmers who lived in quaint cottages. The fortress was impressive and secluded, its strategic position atop the ridge making it unassailable by sea, and the switchbacks offered it protection from armies on foot or horseback.