way, I must know and soon. Speed is of the essence, for time is not on Richard's side."
She paused again. "I know it is a dangerous mission I've given you. But you're the only one who can recognize the killers. I must rely upon you to serve me well. Do not let me down, Justin."
Her urgency was as compelling as it was daunting. Justin had not bargained upon being entangled in a foreign conspiracy. At that moment, though, he could imagine nothing worse than breaking faith with her.
"I cannot make the same promise as before, my lady. I cannot swear that I will solve this crime for you. But I will do my best, that I vow."
Eleanor needed more than promises. But she'd learned to take what she could get. "Godspeed, Justin. And be wary, watch whom you trust. It is not easy to trap a killer, and for certes, not safe."
After learning that Justin had come straight to her upon his arrival in London, Eleanor had suggested that he seek lodgings for the night at the nearby priory of Holy Trinity, Aldgate. Justin decided to do so, for he need only show the queen's letter to
THE QUEEN'S MAN
assure himself oi a warm welcome, a more appealing prospect than trudging through the city streets in search of an inn.
Having taken his leave of Eleanor, Justin paused on the Tower steps. High above his head, an easterly wind herded flocks of ice clouds across the darkening sky. He'd be racing a storm back to Winchester. It was too cold to linger out in the bailey, and he headed toward the stable to retrieve his horse.
Within, the stable was dim, already sheltering night shadows; torches were not left burning, for fear of fire. The grooms were nowhere in sight. A cat stalked mice up on the rafters, and an aged stable dog gave a halfhearted bark before burrowing back into the straw. Justin's stallion snorted loudly at the sight of him. Entering the stall, he was about to lead Copper out when a hand grasped his shoulder. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with Eleanor's son.
"Master de Quincy!" John smiled, his teeth gleaming whitely in the light cast by his lantern. "This is a surprise. I was tarrying out here to see who claimed that chestnut. Had I but known you were the owner, I could have spared myself a wait in this drafty, dark barn."
"How may I serve you, my lord?" There was movement in the shadows behind John. Several men came forward, flanking their lord. They said nothing, watching Justin impassively, showing neither curiosity nor hostility. He suspected that they'd slit his throat with equal indifference should John give the word.
"You can sell me your horse." John reached out, stroking Copper's muzzle. "A right handsome beast. I've always fancied chestnuts. So . . . what say you, de Quincy?"
Justin shifted uneasily. If gossip held true, it was not healthy to possess something that the Lord John wanted, be it a horse, a woman, or a crown. "He is not for sale, my lord count."
"Are you so sure of that? You may name your price."
"I am quite sure," Justin said firmly. "But I am willing to give you the right of first refusal, should I ever change my mind."
John was still smiling. "You are a stubborn one, for certes. Think it over, though."
"I will." Justin was positive that John was lying. As much as
Sharon Kay Penman
he cherished Copper, the chestnut was not likely to tempt a king's son; John would have stables full of finely bred horses. No, this was merely a pretext. Whatever John wanted from him, it was not Copper.
John continued to stroke the stallion's neck. He had Justin's coloring; his lantern's glow revealed hair blacker than midnight. The dark one in a fair family, for his brothers and sisters had all been sun kissed. Richard was said to be lance-tall, towering over other men, with sky-color eyes and hair brighter than molten gold. John was of no more than average height, if even that; Justin topped him by half a foot. Yet he was not a man to pass unnoticed in any company. His intelligence was evident, as
She paused again. "I know it is a dangerous mission I've given you. But you're the only one who can recognize the killers. I must rely upon you to serve me well. Do not let me down, Justin."
Her urgency was as compelling as it was daunting. Justin had not bargained upon being entangled in a foreign conspiracy. At that moment, though, he could imagine nothing worse than breaking faith with her.
"I cannot make the same promise as before, my lady. I cannot swear that I will solve this crime for you. But I will do my best, that I vow."
Eleanor needed more than promises. But she'd learned to take what she could get. "Godspeed, Justin. And be wary, watch whom you trust. It is not easy to trap a killer, and for certes, not safe."
After learning that Justin had come straight to her upon his arrival in London, Eleanor had suggested that he seek lodgings for the night at the nearby priory of Holy Trinity, Aldgate. Justin decided to do so, for he need only show the queen's letter to
THE QUEEN'S MAN
assure himself oi a warm welcome, a more appealing prospect than trudging through the city streets in search of an inn.
Having taken his leave of Eleanor, Justin paused on the Tower steps. High above his head, an easterly wind herded flocks of ice clouds across the darkening sky. He'd be racing a storm back to Winchester. It was too cold to linger out in the bailey, and he headed toward the stable to retrieve his horse.
Within, the stable was dim, already sheltering night shadows; torches were not left burning, for fear of fire. The grooms were nowhere in sight. A cat stalked mice up on the rafters, and an aged stable dog gave a halfhearted bark before burrowing back into the straw. Justin's stallion snorted loudly at the sight of him. Entering the stall, he was about to lead Copper out when a hand grasped his shoulder. Spinning around, he found himself face-to-face with Eleanor's son.
"Master de Quincy!" John smiled, his teeth gleaming whitely in the light cast by his lantern. "This is a surprise. I was tarrying out here to see who claimed that chestnut. Had I but known you were the owner, I could have spared myself a wait in this drafty, dark barn."
"How may I serve you, my lord?" There was movement in the shadows behind John. Several men came forward, flanking their lord. They said nothing, watching Justin impassively, showing neither curiosity nor hostility. He suspected that they'd slit his throat with equal indifference should John give the word.
"You can sell me your horse." John reached out, stroking Copper's muzzle. "A right handsome beast. I've always fancied chestnuts. So . . . what say you, de Quincy?"
Justin shifted uneasily. If gossip held true, it was not healthy to possess something that the Lord John wanted, be it a horse, a woman, or a crown. "He is not for sale, my lord count."
"Are you so sure of that? You may name your price."
"I am quite sure," Justin said firmly. "But I am willing to give you the right of first refusal, should I ever change my mind."
John was still smiling. "You are a stubborn one, for certes. Think it over, though."
"I will." Justin was positive that John was lying. As much as
Sharon Kay Penman
he cherished Copper, the chestnut was not likely to tempt a king's son; John would have stables full of finely bred horses. No, this was merely a pretext. Whatever John wanted from him, it was not Copper.
John continued to stroke the stallion's neck. He had Justin's coloring; his lantern's glow revealed hair blacker than midnight. The dark one in a fair family, for his brothers and sisters had all been sun kissed. Richard was said to be lance-tall, towering over other men, with sky-color eyes and hair brighter than molten gold. John was of no more than average height, if even that; Justin topped him by half a foot. Yet he was not a man to pass unnoticed in any company. His intelligence was evident, as
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