“No one in their right mind would climb down from here,” Barnes said, and this time he did let out a little chuckle.
Richard cringed for him.
“No?” Exeter asked. He crossed the room and closed the door. “I think someone who is highly motivated might give it a try. But you’re right. It’s not a task one tries without good reason, and it may not even be possible no matter how hard one tries.”
He turned his attention to Richard. “Sergeant Hilfred, draw your weapon.”
Richard did as ordered while His Lordship did likewise. Exeter pointed the tip of his broadsword at Barnes, motioned to the window with a nod of his head, and simply said, “Give it a try.”
Barnes glanced at the window, then smiled uncomfortably. “You’re not … you’re not serious, Your Lordship.”
“I assure you I am. I have to determine if it is possible, and I’m providing you compelling motivation.”
“But, Your Lordship!”
“Do as ordered or Sergeant Hilfred and I will kill you where you stand. You could draw as well. It’s your choice, but I’ve seen you use your blade and you’re not very good. You stand a better chance of survival out the window.” Exeter sidestepped to his left, placing Barnes between them. “But if you draw, be sure you can kill me. Anything less and I’ll have the king quarter you. I am, after all, his cousin.”
Exeter rushed forward and slashed. Barnes shuffled backward toward the window with a slice in his tunic. He winced and clutched his chest, suggesting Exeter cut more than just cloth. His eyes were wide as he watched Exeter’s blade, but he never touched his own.
If Barnes had drawn, Richard would have fought him. He had to-it was his job to defend the castle nobility, no matter the situation. He also never cared much for Barnes. He and the other King’s Men had always looked down on him with expressions that said, Even after all these years you still aren’t one of us, and you don’t deserve to guard the king.
Maybe that’s why Barnes did it. He had no choice-neither of them did.
Barnes grabbed hold of the stone and climbed up so that he was standing on the sill, framed in the window. He looked down and Richard could see him shaking.
“Relax, Sergeant,” Exeter said. “I’m fairly certain the young girl-that local whore as you put it-successfully climbed down.”
Lord Exeter’s observation didn’t appear to help. Panting with tension, Barnes turned around, crouched, and taking a firm hold, slid his legs out the window until his stomach rested on the sill.
“There’s a ledge here,” Barnes said with sudden delight.
Richard suspected anything positive would be joyous to Barnes at that moment.
The sergeant continued to slip out, dropping until only his fingers were visible and then he let go. “I did it.”
Exeter leaned out the window. They both did. Barnes was just an arm’s length below, standing on a tiny decorative ledge no more than a foot wide.
“Keep going,” Exeter ordered.
In the moonlight, Richard could see the peak of a dormer below and to the right. Barnes saw it, too, and began to inch along the ledge until he found a handhold in the stone letting him crouch. He struggled to lower his feet again, only he didn’t have a window to lean through this time. The wind gusted and nearly blew Barnes off balance. Richard wondered if the sergeant would just stay where he was all night. He was beyond the reach of Exeter’s sword, although His Lordship might decide to order Richard out after him. If he did, Richard wasn’t sure what he’d do. Unlike Barnes, he guessed he was a better swordsman than Exeter. Luckily-at least for Richard-the wind seemed to have scared Barnes and that’s when he made a desperate attempt to reach out with his feet. Without enough room on the ledge to balance, he fell.
Barnes landed on the dormer and slid down the steep slope. He cried out when he ran out of roof and dropped on the spire of the Winsome Tower. The roof there was not as steep, but it was angled enough to make him slide. Barnes clawed at the clay tiles trying to stop himself. He failed to grasp anything and Richard and Exeter watched as Barnes slipped off like a raindrop and fell to the courtyard. At that height the sound was slight, only a faint thump, hardly the noise anyone would associate with the death of a man.
“Well, there you have it,” Exeter said. “Conclusive proof that someone would indeed climb out this window.” Exeter focused on Richard’s sword. “You can put that away now.”
Richard wasn’t certain that was such good advice, but under His Lordship’s watchful glare, he sheathed the metal just the same.
“So now that we know the how, all that remains is the why. The only reason anyone would go out that window is if they felt they had absolutely no other choice.” He paused, staring at Richard. “But then I shouldn’t have to tell you that, should I?”
Richard felt his face flush with anger, the only outward expression he allowed.
“Still, in the case of this girl-this new Rose-amusing that they have the same name, isn’t it?”
Richard didn’t find it amusing at all.
“I think we can conclude that she, like Sergeant Barnes, was in fear of her life. But from whom and why?”
Exeter looked out the window again. Below, a handful of figures gathered around the dead body of Barnes. “He almost made it, didn’t he? If he could have caught the ledge, then he could easily have dropped to the terrace. She’s still alive, I think.” His Lordship looked toward the gate. “Probably got out of the castle before anyone knew she was missing. Probably already back at the Medford House.”
“We can ask Kells about a girl. He was on the gate,” Richard said. “But I did check in with him before coming here, and he reported no one has left the keep since sundown.”
Exeter smirked. “No one saw her leave this room either.” The high constable headed for the stairs.
“What should I say in my report about what happened to Barnes?” Richard stopped him.
Exeter spun, his cape whirling. “Exactly what happened. Barnes was demonstrating how the girl escaped and in the process, he slipped, fell, and died.” Exeter tilted his head down again, peering up. “Did you know that I opposed your appointment to the royal guard? Your sword skills are good, but you lack loyalty. If Wylin or Lawrence had been here with Barnes, they would have protested. They would have told him to draw and risked their careers by standing against me to save one of their own. Two against one-I would’ve had to back down. Each of you would have received a harsh reprimand because the king can’t have open displays of insubordination, but he would have secretly agreed with you. Everything would have resolved itself in the end. Instead, Barnes is lying in the courtyard like a shattered bag of glass. So I have to wonder, with such a keen sense of loyalty, when the time comes to defend your king-will you?”
Richard’s jaw stiffened. “I already have.”
“Oh yes, the attack in Pilin.”
“I saved His Majesty when everyone else ran. I stayed and nearly died.”
“But that was long ago, and I have to wonder … would you do so now? Perhaps if the king had shown more gratitude. Active soldiers can’t have wives, can they? I suspect you asked for an exception because Rose Reuben carried your son in her belly. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
It was a question Exeter already knew the answer to, and Richard didn’t bother answering.
“It seems like such a small price to pay, especially after exhibiting such bravery, but your request was denied. The king needs his soldiers in their barracks and ready at all times, and if he makes an exception for one … I’m certain he made all this clear when he turned you down.”
Richard stood straight, doing his best not to show emotion, something he’d developed a skill for over the last sixteen years.
“And when he refused, your loyalty to Rose was tested. You could have resigned your commission and taken her, and your soon-to-be son, somewhere to start a new life. But you cared more about your promotion to sergeant at arms than for Rose and your bastard child. You turned her away.” Exeter adjusted his cape, which had slipped off one shoulder after his abrupt turn. “Of course, what did that leave her? Now that her condition was known, she was released from her position, and with no man to provide for her, what was she to do? I suppose she could have found an old midwife with a twisted twig to relieve her from the burden you planted. But she didn’t do that. Now that’s loyalty. I would’ve advocated Rose Reuben for a position in the royal guard without hesitation. What did you tell her when she returned with the child and pleaded once more for your help? Did you even offer her coin? I suspect you turned her away with nothing. I might have granted you some concession for at least sending the child to your sister after Rose’s death, but then that was more out of guilt and embarrassment, wasn’t it? Pity you didn’t offer that option sooner.