He told her of the twenty workers and their families he had hired to come to Wareham.
“I trust the families will bring sufficient clothing and bedding. Ah, we must build dwellings for the families. The unmarried men, how many are there, my lord?”
“Six are unwedded.”
“Where will they live?”
“We will add to the soldiers barracks, a large dormitory, perhaps.”
“Are any of these men older?”
“Aye, three are, and they are masters at their crafts.”
“We must build them dwellings as well. They will not want to spend their time with heedless young men, cursing and spitting and butting heads.”
When Garron stopped a moment to examine a handsaw, Merry, standing just behind him, saw Sir Lyle speaking to one of his men. The man nodded and slipped away. What was that about? She didn’t like Sir Lyle, hadn’t the moment she’d met him, hated the way he’d looked down his nose at her as if she were worth less than nothing.
But she forgot Sir Lyle when Garron began discussing each of the new workers he had hired, and where they would build their dwellings.
Night was falling, warm and clear, when Garron heard the sound of a stream and called a halt. Pali found a nearby clearing large enough for all of them, the mules and the horses. Merry watched the horses docilely follow Hobbs to drink from the stream. He returned humming to the camp, again, the horses following him. Garron smiled at Damocles, that mean irritable animal who would delicately eat a dried apple from Hobbs’s hands. Gilpin removed all the bundles from the mules’ backs, fed them, and led them to the stream.
Aleric brought down two rabbits for dinner and Pali roasted them over a blazing fire. Merry wanted to help, but she quickly saw this was a routine and each man knew what he was to do, and so she sat down cross-legged and sang them songs. After they ate the rabbit, she sang more songs. Pali told her a voice like hers had made the stars shine brighter. “Ha,” Garron said.
She pointed upward. “Garron, but look at that star just over Gilpin’s left shoulder. It is so bright I can see Pali’s red eyes reflected in its light. I am good, am I not?”
He laughed and threw a rabbit bone at her.
The following day dawned warm. They stopped at a small alehouse, the Hoary Rabbit, in the tiny hamlet of Kersey-on-Dale, halfway through their remaining five-hour trek back to Wareham. Garron wanted to see if anyone here knew anything about the Retribution at Wareham and the Black Demon. He discovered quickly enough that everyone knew. However, no one knew the Black Demon’s identity, or admitted to knowing.
Garron bought a flagon of ale for Sir Lyle and invited him to sit with him on the long bench in the alehouse.
“You are missing one of your men. Solan is his name, if I remember aright.”
Sir Lyle said, “Aye, Solan had belly cramps. I left him to take his ease beneath an elm tree. When he recovers, he will return to Wareham.”
Garron took a drink of the tart ale, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked out the narrow window at a bent old woman tugging at a rope tied around a pig’s neck.
A reasonable answer, but Garron wondered.
Sir Lyle stilled, no part of him moved, even his eyes. He slowly lowered the cup of ale to the scarred tabletop. He said easily, “You doubt my word? I am your man, my loyalty is to you, to none other. I came with England’s chancellor, the king approved of me.”
This was true. Garron nodded slowly.
“I will go keep watch over our supplies.” And Sir Lyle strode out of the tavern.
When Garron emerged, he heard a small gasp. He stilled immediately. “Merry?”
“Ye tell me where yer silver coins be, my lord, and ye can have the wench back with her gullet still inside her neck.”
He turned very slowly to see a man holding Merry tightly against him, a knife point against her neck.
Be calm, be calm. “Very well,” Garron called out, “I will tell you where the silver coins are but you must release her.”
“Ye think me a fool? I’ll not trust a big’un like ye to keep yer word. Url, show our fine young lad what ye can do.”
Garron felt the sharp tip of a knife press into the middle of his back, through his thick tunic, to stick into his flesh. He heard the man’s breathing, ragged, and knew he was afraid.
“Aye, ye hold yerself still and Url won’t shove it through yer back. Now, where did yer brother hide the silver coins?”