[The deBurghs 07] - Reynold De Burgh: The Dark Knight Read Free Page A

Fortune favours those who travel together.’
    ‘I don’t know if your horse can keep up,’ Reynold said, reluctant to add more to what had begun as his own private excursion.
    ‘Surely you are not in such a hurry?’ the man asked, undeterred. ‘Part of the journey is enjoying the sights and the good company of fellow pilgrims.’
    It was the latter that put Reynold off, for he was not like one of his more gregarious brothers. He had always kept to himself and had no desire to lead a motley band across the country.
    But the man was persistent. ‘I beseech thee, as a fellow pilgrim, to allow us to travel with you for the increased safety in numbers. I ask not for myself, but for the boy, who would seek the healing well at Brentwyn. He is lame, you see.’
    At the man’s words, Reynold stiffened. His firstthought was that this fellow, too, was jesting, part of some vast scheme initiated by one of his brothers to turn his departure from Campion into a prank. But why, and how? Ultimately, Reynold rejected such notions as nonsense, and as much as he would have liked to reject the man’s pleas, as well, he was a knight and bound to protect those weaker.
    ‘Very well,’ he said curtly.
    Thanking Reynold many times over, the fellow introduced himself as Thebald and the boy, who nodded gravely, as Rowland.
    ‘I am Reynold, and this is Peregrine,’ Reynold said, hoping that his squire would adopt some discretion from his example. The name de Burgh was well known, at least in some areas, and he did not care to deal with whatever reactions it might bring. He had consented to ride alongside these people for a few miles, not share with them his background or his business.
    To his credit, Peregrine appeared more circumspect when he next entered into conversation with the strangers. Still, he and Thebald chatted amiably, relating stories of the road and various shrines and sites. Reynold listened briefly, but having no patience for such chatter, he soon returned to his own thoughts, chiefly among them how his plans for a solitary sojourn had come to this.
     
    Something woke him. Unlike his brother Dunstan, Reynold did not sleep upright against a tree when travelling, yet he would not be a de Burgh if he did not remain alert to the slightest sounds—and cautious. Andso he came awake, but kept his eyes closed as he listened carefully.
    What he heard was a rustling sound, but of man, not beast, as though someone were rifling through his pack. He lay still as stone and lifted his lids just enough to see what he might. They had made camp in the ruins of an old building off the road that provided some security, but the small fire had either died out or been doused.
    The only light was that from a sliver of moon that shone through the roofless remains, but it was enough to illuminate the heavy walking stick that hovered above Reynold’s head. Thebald loomed over him with the stout weapon at the ready, while the boy who had used it to hop about earlier was now standing upright without aid, going through Peregrine’s supplies. Had they already knocked the youth senseless?
    The thought of Peregrine’s fate fuelled his strength, and Reynold leapt upwards with a roar. Although wiry and tenacious, Thebald was no match for a well-trained knight, and Reynold quickly wrested the cudgel from his hand even as the thief yelled for his companion. The boy, obviously no cripple, pulled a dagger and threw it with no little skill, a deadly missile carefully aimed at Reynold’s chest.
    Apparently asleep, Peregrine had awoken at the noise and shouted a warning as he rose to his feet. Reynold spared him a glance only to see him felled by the young brigand, who fought with the ferocity of a demon. The two rolled around the remains of the fire, stirring it back to life.
    Snatching up the knife that now stuck from his chest, Reynold put it to Thebald’s throat. ‘Call off your dog, if you value your life.’
    Eyes bulging, the would-be thief struggled