Merry gave a soft, terrified cry and slumped forward in a dead faint. The man automatically loosened his hold, yelled, “What are ye doing, silly wench!” and Merry slipped unconscious to the ground. When the man bent down to pull her up, she rolled onto her back, raised her feet, and struck him as hard as she could in the groin. The man dropped his knife, grabbed himself, and doubled over. Merry struck him again in his side, and this time he fell to the ground, moaning and crying. She grabbed up the knife.
The knife against Garron’s back shook, and he smiled even as he whirled about and cuffed Url on the side of his head with his fist. He yelled, “Aleric! A moi!”
“Garron, behind you!”
Garron whirled about, brought up his fist, and slammed it into the new man’s jaw. His blow was so hard, the man went flying backward to land hard on his back. He didn’t move. Merry watched Garron calmly bend down over the man and pull the knife out of his hand. He slapped him once, twice.
But he didn’t move.
Garron stood when he saw Aleric, Sir Lyle at his side, both their swords drawn, running toward him. In that moment, the man jerked up, rolled up onto his feet, and ran into the woods behind the inn. “Let him go,” Garron called out when Aleric would have gone after him. “We still have two of them. They will tell us what we need to know.”
Aleric sheathed his sword. “Well done, my lord. You kicked that one cockshead in his parts?”
“Nay, Merry did that.” He saw in his mind’s eye the dirty lad he’d rescued kick Berm in his groin right before Garron had hurled his knife into his throat. He frowned, then dismissed it.
“This one here, I clouted in the head. And for the one who ran, I hit him in the jaw, but evidently not hard enough. Have you seen either of these two before?”
Both Aleric and Sir Lyle studied the men, then shook their heads. Sir Lyle called out to his men, but neither knew the two scoundrels.
Garron went down on his haunches beside the man who’d held the knife to his back. No, not a man, more a boy, and he was filthy. His eyes were open and he was sniffling. He moaned and raised his hand to press against his head. Garron leaned close. “Tell me, Url, who hired you?”
The boy was so afraid he was shaking. “I dinna know, I swear it, my lord.”
Garron drew his knife and began to slide his fingers up and down the blade. “I won’t kill you if you tell me. Who hired you? How much did he pay you?”
The boy shook his head again, his eyes on that knife, and moaned at the pain in his head. He whispered, “After we found out where yer brother hid the silver coins, after I kilt ye, then he said he’d pay us. I don’t know who he was, niver saw him afore.”
“What did he look like?”
“His head were d
own, I couldna see him.”
“You agreed to kill a man without seeing a single coin?”
“Aye, why not? But the man, he gave us each a bit to make us want to gain the rest after we kilt ye.”
Aleric knelt down beside Garron and shoved his hands into the boy’s pockets. He pulled out three half pennies. “Evidently he did not believe these young louts needed much to urge them to murder.”
Garron walked to the other man, still lying on his side, moaning and holding himself. “Who hired you?”
This man was older, as dirty as the boy, only there were years of meanness in his eyes. He looked beyond Garron to Merry, and there was bone-deep rage in his eyes. He spat in the dirt. “I’ll kill ye, wench, I’ll kill ye with me bare hands! Yer a female, yer not supposed to hit a man like that, it’s vile and unnatural!”
Merry growled deep in her throat, took a step toward him, and raised her foot. The man yelped and tried to roll away.
Garron leaned down and struck him in the jaw. The man fell back, unconscious. He looked up at Merry, her foot still raised. “Well, that was a mistake. I should have left him conscious to enjoy some more pain and answer my questions. We’ll take them back to Wareham, question them there. We’ll find out who hired them. I believe this fellow knows.”
“Oh aye,” Aleric said, and rubbed his hands together. “Remember that French assassin who wouldn’t tell you who had hired him to kill the king? Ah, that was fine sport, wasn’t it, Garron?”
Garron realized Url was listening. He laughed. “The man was a coward, he yelled so loudly when you pulled out his fingernails and toenails, the king remarked that it curdled his cow’s milk.” Garron paused, saw the young man’s face was perfectly white, a feat since he was so dirty. He rose, dusted his hands on his breeches. “They can think about their fingernails whilst we ride home.”
Garron felt his blood begin to slow. He turned to Merry, the anger still burning hot in her eyes. “You should have stayed with Aleric. Now, breathe deeply, and calm yourself. Do you know, not long ago I saw a boy kick a scoundrel in the groin just as you did. And you did it well, Merry, although you were an idiot, since that lout could have shoved that knife into your neck in an instant.”
He was right, she knew, she hadn’t thought, hadn’t considered. She’d found a recipe for curing hiccups and wanted to tell him. She began frantically rubbing her throat. “Oh dear,” she said, staring up at him, saw that knife slice right through her neck. “Oh dear,” she repeated, and she fell over in a dead faint.
As Garron lifted Merry into his arms and carried her to Damocles, Aleric spoke calmly, “Pali, Gilpin, bind the two scoundrels, Garron wants to question them when we reach home.” He said louder, knowing both men were listening, “And I will leave my knife dull and dirty, ’twill be more fun shoving it beneath fingernails.” He slanted a look at Garron, said quietly, “It was a fine tale of torture you spun to the boy. I doubt not that he, at least, will be more than willing to spill everything he knows. As for the other one, he’s hard, that one. Gilpin, bring Merry’s horse. Sir Lyle, will you keep watch on the two prisoners?”
Sir Lyle nodded. He looked angry. And Garron wondered if his anger was because these men had tried to kill him or because they’d failed.