Midnight Magic Read Free Page A

conjecture, Sedwick snorted through the battle-marred nose on his round face. “See you any sense of urgency? And why send two knights, one of whom we do not know, when a runner would have done? Nay, my lady. The very air stinks of trouble.”
    “Then send someone out to learn their purpose before they come closer.”
    “Without knowing who Garrett brings to our gate? His lordship would have my head on a pike were I to be so foolish. We will wait for Garrett to explain.”
    Gwendolyn bit her bottom lip to hold her peace. She might be in charge of the household in her father’s absence, but Sedwick, her father’s steward, currently held sway over the defenses. The knight’s dour, suspicious nature made him perfect for the position, though she thought his current stance against lowering the drawbridge overly distrusting.
    Sir Garrett certainly meant Camelen no harm. As for the knight who rode by his side, how much damage could one man do against thick stone walls and an armed garrison? He surely posed no menace.
    The knight was tall, certainly, and young, she judged from the lack of bend to his back and his solid yet fluid seat in the saddle. His broad shoulders carried the weight of gleaming chain mail with ease. The belt of his scabbard circled a trim waist over narrow hips. Black leather riding gloves covered his hands.
    He wore a helm, of course, concealing his hair, the nose guard obscuring his facial features. Except his jaw, which was both square and bold.
    As the men traversed the field, Gwendolyn’s curiosity kept pace with her rising impatience until, finally, the men had no choice but to halt at the outer edge of the moat. She caught herself wondering further about the coloring of his hair and eyes when Sedwick’s shout halted her silly musings.
    “You return to Camelen in strange manner, Sir Garrett.”
    Garrett removed his helm and ran a hand through his steel-gray hair. Sweet mercy, the man looked weary unto dropping from his saddle!
    “Not the manner of my choosing, Sedwick.” The weariness in Garrett’s voice matched his appearance, and for the first time since she’d been called to the battlements, Gwendolyn felt a twinge of apprehension. “We bear news best not shouted over the wall, so I would be most grateful if you would lower the drawbridge.”
    Sedwick made no move to signal an affirming command to the guards posted near the giant winches that controlled the bridge’s thick chains.
    “Who do you bring with you?”
    “Christ’s blood, Sedwick, I will explain all after—”
    Abruptly silenced by the young knight’s hand to his forearm, Garrett’s visage turned grimmer than before.
    “I am Sir Alberic of Chester,” the knight answered, his voice deep and clear, easily carrying up to the battlements without strain. “By my oath, I mean Camelen and its people no harm.”
    “And I shall vouchsafe his oath,” Garrett stated.
    Sedwick’s eyebrow arched sharply. “My lady, if this Sir Alberic is of Chester, then he is a king’s man and so our enemy. Yet Garrett bids us allow him entry! I like this not.”
    All true and worrisome. Her father firmly believed in the right of King Henry’s daughter, Maud, to the English crown. He considered King Stephen the usurper and traitor for having swiftly claimed his uncle’s crown at Henry’s death. Ranulf de Gernons, the earl of Chester, had recently thrown the weight of his earldom behind King Stephen, infuriating her father, who’d vowed to present Chester’s head to Maud on a gold platter.
    Nay, Sir Hugh de Leon wouldn’t be pleased if a man of Chester were allowed inside Camelen. And yet, Sir Alberic came in the company of Sir Garrett, a man her father trusted completely. And the young knight was willing to enter a hostile, fully garrisoned castle, so he must have a very good reason. The news the two wished to impart must be important and, she feared, grave indeed.
    “Truly, Sedwick, what harm can come of Sir Alberic’s entry? Garrett