Earl of Winterbourne. Mulgrave detested the man, regarding him with a deep and perfect loathing. The acts of Winterbourne's Redeemers were unspeakable. Worse, by being unpunished and unchecked, they were condoned by the king. Mulgrave hated killing, but at least he had believed he was fighting on the side of right. Not so now. In this war there was no balance between right and wrong, good and evil. Both sides had committed atrocities.
'How is your shoulder now?' asked Gaise.
'Healed, sir.'
'That is good. I have missed you, Mulgrave. It is good to have you back.'
Mulgrave stayed silent. He wanted to tell his friend that he would be leaving soon for the north, but now that the moment was upon him he could not find the words.
An uneasy silence developed, and then Gaise spoke again. 'I think Winterbourne is behind the duel.
I think he pressured Person into making the challenge.'
'For what purpose, sir?'
'I wish I knew. We do not see eye to eye on certain matters, but we both have the same objective, the defeat of Luden Macks and the Covenanters.'
'You stood against him after Ballest, sir. You refused to hand over those villagers.'
'Women and children, Mulgrave. They were not Covenanters. They were merely scavenging for food.'
'I agree with you, sir, and it does you credit that you fed them. Winterbourne would have killed them all. We both know that.'
'Aye, he is a hard, cruel man,' admitted Gaise. 'But that was a year ago and a small matter even then. He ought to have forgotten it by now.'
'Perhaps he has, sir. Might be safer, though, to assume that he has not.'
Gaise Macon chuckled. 'Were you always so suspicious of your fellow men, Mulgrave? Did you never learn the joys of forgiving and forgetting?'
'Indeed I have, sir,' answered Mulgrave, with a smile. 'I knew a man once - a gentle man. He took it upon himself to help a former convict rebuild his life. He took the man in, gave him the freedom of his home.'
'I can guess the end,' said Gaise. 'The convict killed him or robbed him.'
'No, sir. The convict became a carpenter, and worked very hard. He even repaired the good man's roof. He did this for no payment, in gratitude for all that the man had done for him.'
'Then what is the point of this story?' asked Gaise.
'He wasn't a very good carpenter. One day the roof caved in and killed the good man.'
Gaise Macon's laughter rang out. 'Now the moral of that story is worth debating. Another time, though. I must see if our supplies have arrived. Ride with me, Mulgrave.' Swinging his grey coat around his shoulders, he walked from the room.
With a sigh Mulgrave followed him.
Ice crunched under their horses' hooves as they negotiated the treacherous trail, their mounts slithering and sliding on the steep paths. Mulgrave's hands and feet were bitterly cold as he rode alongside the young general, and the winter wind stung like needles upon his face. It made him feel even colder to see that Gaise wore no gloves or hat, though his body was well protected by a long, sheepskin-lined cloak. Mulgrave glanced up at the sky. The snow clouds were clearing now, the stars shining brightly. It would grow colder yet before the dawn. His horse stumbled, then righted itself.
Ahead was a small slope, leading down to where the Eldacre Company had made camp. Gaise led the way, allowing his grey gelding to pick its own path through the mud and the ice.
A middle-aged soldier, wearing a hooded cloak, approached them and saluted. Gaise stepped down from the saddle and the soldier took hold of the grey's reins. 'Are the supplies in, Lanfer?'
asked Gaise.
'Aye, my lord,' replied Lanfer Gosten. 'Less than half of what was promised. Even on short rations there's not enough to last a week. Four wagons was all we got.'
'Gather ten men and follow me to the quartermaster general,' ordered Gaise. Swinging into the saddle he touched heels to the grey and rode through the camp. Mulgrave followed, drawing alongside the angry young man.
'Are you
'How is your shoulder now?' asked Gaise.
'Healed, sir.'
'That is good. I have missed you, Mulgrave. It is good to have you back.'
Mulgrave stayed silent. He wanted to tell his friend that he would be leaving soon for the north, but now that the moment was upon him he could not find the words.
An uneasy silence developed, and then Gaise spoke again. 'I think Winterbourne is behind the duel.
I think he pressured Person into making the challenge.'
'For what purpose, sir?'
'I wish I knew. We do not see eye to eye on certain matters, but we both have the same objective, the defeat of Luden Macks and the Covenanters.'
'You stood against him after Ballest, sir. You refused to hand over those villagers.'
'Women and children, Mulgrave. They were not Covenanters. They were merely scavenging for food.'
'I agree with you, sir, and it does you credit that you fed them. Winterbourne would have killed them all. We both know that.'
'Aye, he is a hard, cruel man,' admitted Gaise. 'But that was a year ago and a small matter even then. He ought to have forgotten it by now.'
'Perhaps he has, sir. Might be safer, though, to assume that he has not.'
Gaise Macon chuckled. 'Were you always so suspicious of your fellow men, Mulgrave? Did you never learn the joys of forgiving and forgetting?'
'Indeed I have, sir,' answered Mulgrave, with a smile. 'I knew a man once - a gentle man. He took it upon himself to help a former convict rebuild his life. He took the man in, gave him the freedom of his home.'
'I can guess the end,' said Gaise. 'The convict killed him or robbed him.'
'No, sir. The convict became a carpenter, and worked very hard. He even repaired the good man's roof. He did this for no payment, in gratitude for all that the man had done for him.'
'Then what is the point of this story?' asked Gaise.
'He wasn't a very good carpenter. One day the roof caved in and killed the good man.'
Gaise Macon's laughter rang out. 'Now the moral of that story is worth debating. Another time, though. I must see if our supplies have arrived. Ride with me, Mulgrave.' Swinging his grey coat around his shoulders, he walked from the room.
With a sigh Mulgrave followed him.
Ice crunched under their horses' hooves as they negotiated the treacherous trail, their mounts slithering and sliding on the steep paths. Mulgrave's hands and feet were bitterly cold as he rode alongside the young general, and the winter wind stung like needles upon his face. It made him feel even colder to see that Gaise wore no gloves or hat, though his body was well protected by a long, sheepskin-lined cloak. Mulgrave glanced up at the sky. The snow clouds were clearing now, the stars shining brightly. It would grow colder yet before the dawn. His horse stumbled, then righted itself.
Ahead was a small slope, leading down to where the Eldacre Company had made camp. Gaise led the way, allowing his grey gelding to pick its own path through the mud and the ice.
A middle-aged soldier, wearing a hooded cloak, approached them and saluted. Gaise stepped down from the saddle and the soldier took hold of the grey's reins. 'Are the supplies in, Lanfer?'
asked Gaise.
'Aye, my lord,' replied Lanfer Gosten. 'Less than half of what was promised. Even on short rations there's not enough to last a week. Four wagons was all we got.'
'Gather ten men and follow me to the quartermaster general,' ordered Gaise. Swinging into the saddle he touched heels to the grey and rode through the camp. Mulgrave followed, drawing alongside the angry young man.
'Are you
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