An Uncertain Choice

“As tempting as the prospect is,” Derrick said, “I respect Lady Rosemarie’s decision not to inflict torture.”


“Oh, but yes,” the sheriff said with a thin smile. “You wouldn’t dare disobey Lady Rosemarie, would you? Not when you hope to win her into your bed.”

With a growl, Derrick slid from his horse, unsheathed his dagger, and had the blade pressed against the sheriff’s heart before he could blink.

I sucked in a sharp breath of panic, especially at the sight of the blood that pooled around the sharp edges of the blade.

“Sir Derrick! Please take care,” I urged. I didn’t want him to do anything rash that he might later regret.

At my words of caution, Derrick loosened his grip on the sheriff’s cloak. But the muscles in his arms and back were rounded with strength and anger. He bent in so that he was almost spitting in the sheriff’s face. “Your blatant disregard for Lady Rosemarie’s wishes disgusts me.”

Derrick thrust the sheriff away with a force that sent the man stumbling backward only to land on his backside. Derrick then strode to his horse and in one swift motion was astride again. He glared down at the sheriff, who stared back just as darkly. “Be certain of this, sheriff. If you ever speak ill of Lady Rosemarie again, I will not cut out your tongue.” Derrick’s steely voice carried over the gathering. “For I shall cut out your heart instead.”





Chapter

18




The nightmares came again that night, unbidden, unwanted, but certainly not unexpected.

Restless, not only from the terrible dreams but also from all that I’d witnessed during my day with Derrick, first thing in the morning I met with Abbot Francis Michael in the chapel to pray. As much as I dreaded what I must do, I also knew it was past time to exert my authority as master and ruler over the lands of Ashby. My first act would be to discipline the sheriff. Although he’d once earned my father’s gratitude for protecting me, I had to make an example of him by taking away his esteemed position — ?perhaps even putting him in the dungeon for a time. With only a week until my eighteenth birthday, I had to let him and all my people know that I was to be obeyed.

If I did nothing — ?as I had the last time — ?then I would prove how weak I truly was.

Thankfully, the abbot agreed. And after prayers for strength and guidance, the abbot promised to send his messengers to retrieve the sheriff.

As I waited in my golden chair in the Great Hall, my mind replayed all of the conversations Derrick and I had with the peasants the previous day. I realized I must not only discipline the sheriff for his disobedience, I must also question him about the outbreaks of the strange illness. After sharing my concerns with the abbot, he’d been the first to suggest that perhaps the sheriff was more sinister than he’d believed.

The weight of my responsibility sank like heavy stones onto my shoulders. Why did becoming a leader and an adult have to be so difficult?

The knights and their squires were seated at the side tables breaking their fasts, but I had no appetite. My stomach was wound into too many tangles. I kept my focus on the wide double doors, awaiting the sheriff’s presence, mentally trying to plan what I would say to him.

I half-jumped when my porter, James, entered. But I sat back once I realized he wasn’t ushering in the sheriff but rather one of the hired laborers who worked at the monastery. The man approached the abbot, who was breaking his fast down the table from where I sat. After several moments of speaking to the abbot in low, urgent tones, the abbot sprang from his chair with such speed that it toppled over behind him, hitting the floor with a reverberating bang. The abbot’s eyes were round with horror. “Are you certain?”

The hired laborer nodded gravely.

“Do we know who the murderer is?” the abbot asked, his face pinched and pale.

At the mention of murder, silence descended over the Great Hall and all eyes came to rest on the monastery worker.

The laborer glanced around the Great Hall, his gaze only stopping when he reached Derrick, who stood with the duke and his two companions near the double doors. They’d obviously anticipated some resistance from the sheriff and had planned to support my efforts to confront him.

Derrick’s handsome face was unshaven, and dark circles had formed under his eyes. But he stood as straight and strong as befitted a knight of his rank.

The laborer tore his attention from Derrick, shook his head, and then whispered in the abbot’s ear.

The abbot’s eyes narrowed and the creases in his face deepened.

“What is it, Father Abbot?” I asked.

He turned his kind eyes on me, and there was a sadness in them that sent warning bells ringing inside. Something dreadful must have happened.

I prayed it wasn’t another outbreak of the illness.