Clare poked at the glowing coals in the brazier that wanned the chamber where she sat with Joanna and William. "Does it seem especially cold to you tonight, Joanna?"
"Summer will soon be here." Joanna studied her embroidery by the light of the lamp.
William stood at the window, his eyes on the torchlit courtyard. "I wonder if they have flushed out the magician yet. Do you suppose that one of the bowmen they have run to ground at the harbor really is Lucretius de Valemont?"
Clare frowned. "Sir Raymond never said anything about being a bowman.
Tis not the sort of skill a knight learns."
Joanna glanced at her. "Very true. Knights do not train with such weapons. Bows are for common men-at-arms."
William continued to stare out the window. "Lord Gareth says such thinking is foolish. He says a man who wishes to survive must become adept with a variety of weapons, including the bow. Dalian and I have been practicing archery skills with Ranulf and the others."
"You have?" Joanna looked startled. "I did not know of this. I do not believe that archery is a beneficial form of exercise."
Clare hastened to change the subject. "Mayhap one of the men who was killed at the harbor was Lucretius de Valemont."
"Not likely," William said, "Dalian would have recognized him and sent word back with Maiden Comstock."
"Hmm. You have a point," Clare said. "The magician must be one of the men trapped inside the house."
"Aye." William nodded with satisfaction. "Sir Ulrich and the others will no doubt have captured them by the time Lord Gareth arrives."
"I pray it will all be over quickly," Clare whispered.
"Of course it will." Joanna set another stitch. "Lord Gareth and Sir Ulrich will see to the matter."
"I don't know. It almost seems too simple." Clare crossed her arms beneath her breasts. She could not shake off the chill she had been feeling all evening.
Joanna looked up sharply. "Why do you say that?"
"I suppose because after all the turmoil he has caused, I cannot believe Raymond?I mean, Lucretius?will be stopped so easily."
William made a fist on the windowsill. "Sir Ulrich says the magician likely killed Sir Humphrey."
Clare shivered. "All because of an alchemic recipe book. Raymond or Lucretius, or whatever his name is, must be mad."
Joanna stabbed her needle into the fabric. "I never did trust that man."
Clare exchanged a small, wry look with William. Neither of them reminded Joanna that she had once praised Raymond de Coleville to the skies.
Clare walked over to the window. Together she and William looked out into the night and waited for the glow of a torch to appear on the road.
"I wish we knew what was going on at the harbor," William said.
Clare stirred after a while. She peered at the shadowed watchtower.
"Does it seem to you that the tower torch is burning low, William?"
William shifted his glance toward the tower. "Aye. Mayhap Ranulf does not have a spare torch. Shall I go and see if he needs a fresh one?"
"Nay, I'll go downstairs to the hall and find Eadgar. He can send one of the servants across to the tower with a fresh torch."
Clare turned toward the door, grateful for something to do.
"Will you ask Eadgar to bring us something to eat?" William said with a hopeful look. "I vow, I am starved."
Clare smiled. "Very well." She made to open the door.
"Lady Clare, come quickly." William's voice was sharp with fear.
Clare whirled around. She saw that William had both hands planted on the windowsill. He was staring down at the courtyard.
"What is it?" She asked. "What's wrong?"
"Come see. There are men in the courtyard. But the gate is still closed."
"By Saint Hermione's needle." Clare hurried across the chamber. "What are you talking about? Is Lord Gareth back?"
"Tis not Lord Gareth and his men. These are strangers." William turned a shocked face toward her. "They were not there a moment ago. You and I both saw that the courtyard was empty. And no one has opened the gate. This is truly magic."
Joanna dropped her embroidery. Her face was stark with terror. "The magician."
Clare reached the window and stared down at the torchlit courtyard. She could hardly believe what she saw. Half a dozen men armed with swords and dressed in black hooded cloaks strode toward the front steps of the hall.
Several of the men had the edges of their cloaks pushed back over their shoulders. Torchlight glinted on their mail.
The leader of the group held a familiar figure in front of him, a dagger at his throat.
"Tis Dalian," William whispered. "He's captured Dalian."
"Dear God." Joanna's voice cracked.
The man who held Dalian signaled to one of the others. A cloaked figure went up the steps and pounded on the front door of the hall with the hilt of his sword.
"Open in the name of the Grand Master of the Order of the Star Stone.
Open or die."
Clare gripped the window ledge with shaking fingers. She leaned out.
"Who goes there?"
The man who held Dalian at dagger point looked up at the open window. He threw back his hood and smiled.
Clare found herself gazing down at the man she had once known as Raymond de Coleville.
"Good evening to you, Lady Clare," Lucretius's polished voice and flashing grin were as charming as ever.
Clare stared down at him, unwilling for an instant to believe that he was actually there inside the wall.
But she could not deny the truth.
The fiery light of the torches cast an evil glow on Lucretius's handsome, falcon-sharp features. He was slender and graceful, just as she remembered, a devastatingly attractive man with long, tapered fingers. His black cloak swirled around him like the ebony wings of a great bird of prey.
"How did you get inside the wall?' Clare demanded.
"What a foolish question. I am a magician." Lucretius's smile was brilliant. "Open your hall, madam.
I want the book that this foolish boy failed to bring to me."
"Don't do it, Lady Clare," Dalian shouted. "Don't let him inside." He broke off, choking, as Lucretius squeezed his arm around his throat.
Clare watched Lucretius's face carefully. "If you are indeed a great magician, sir, why do you not simply materialize inside my hall and take the book?"
Lucretius continued to smile. "Materializing and de-materializing are hard work, madam, even for a magician as accomplished as myself. I would prefer to do this in the simplest manner."
"Are you mad?"
"You will bring me your father's recipe book, or I shall kill your minstrel here and now." The dagger in Lucretius's hand glinted. "And then I shall enter your hall and kill your people one by one in front of your eyes until you choose to bring me the book."
"Let him kill me, Lady Clare," Dalian pleaded. "I beg you, let him kill me. You must not open the hall to him."
Lucretius's smile was cold. "I congratulate you, Clare. I did not believe that you could win young Dalian to your service so easily, but obviously he is now devoted to you. I thought the boy had enough wit to know better than to turn against me, but apparently he does not."
"Don't give him the book," Dalian cried. "I don't care if he kills me."
Lucretius did not take his eyes off Clare. "You do not know your lady very well, boy. She is too softhearted. She will never allow you to die for the sake of a mere book. Is that not right Clare? No book is worth the death of one you care about, is it?"
"Nay,"' Clare said quickly. "I will bring you the book if you will promise to release Dalian."
"You may have your minstrel back as soon as I have Sir Humphrey's book.
The clumsy boy was never of much use, anyway."
"Very well, I shall drop the book down to you from this window," Clare said.
"Nay, madam. You will bring it to me. I want you as well as the book."