Read A Knight With Grace: Book 1 of the Assassin Knights Series for Free Online Page B

own life many times in the frenzied madness of battle, but that was not what kept him up at night. It was the blood. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw pools of innocent blood filling his mind’s eye. In his dark dreams, he often found himself staring down at his hands, seeing them covered in dark red liquid. He wondered if his friends had this much trouble sleeping.
    He doubted Reginald FitzUrse had any trouble sleeping. Reginald was always confident in his actions, never regretting them. It was for the king, Reginald would say. Everything they had done had been for the king. Reginald’s loyalty was to King Henry, even above God. His excommunication never seemed to bother him. Reginald was tough, always fighting for what he believed in with the courage of a lion, but he was also angry and headstrong. After all this time, William wondered if it hadn’t been for Reginald’s anger, if they would have sought to bring the archbishop before the king. William thought back to that fateful night. A colder night. A December night.
    Two monks clad in brown robes opened the doors of the cloister for the four knights. The four knights, William, Reginald, Richard le Brey and Hugh de Morville, entered the monastery, each man’s face filled with grim determination. Reginald led the way into the hall. William nodded at one of the monks he passed. He couldn’t help but notice the fear and anxiety in the young monk’s dark eyes.
    Long tables lined the hall and monks ate quietly at them.
    “Where is Thomas Becket?” Reginald demanded.
    The monks looked up at him. Some set aside their food and drink, but none said a word.
    Richard Le Brey stepped forward. “Where is the traitor?”
    “We bear a message from King Henry!” Reginald added. “Speak up!”
    William glanced at Reginald in surprise. They had no message from the king. Perhaps he meant they were here on the king’s mission. Still, the half truth made him uneasy.
    Finally, a man dressed in white robes rose from one of the tables. His bearing, his demeanor was different than the others. He clearly commanded respect. “I am here, FitzUrse,“ Archbishop Thomas Becket said. ”Why do you disturb these monks at mealtime?”
    “By the king’s orders, you are to return with us to England,” Reginald commanded.
    “I do not answer to the king, but to One in higher authority. I will not return to England.”
    William gaped at this, as did the rest of the knights. Defying King Henry’s order was unthinkable. “You defy the king?” William asked, shocked.
    The archbishop looked at William and his gaze softened. “I answer only to one rule. His rule.”
    His rule. The Lord’s rule. Uncertainty immediately filled William. Is that what he was doing by being here? Is that what this mission meant? Was he placing king over God? Before he could answer, or question himself further, Reginald stepped forward.
    “All who are on the side of the king, hinder the archbishop!” Reginald ordered the monks. “Do not let him leave!” He whirled and stormed from the hall.
    William stood still for a second longer, as his comrades moved out of the hall, following FitzUrse. Would they return to England empty handed? Would they return as failures? His gaze moved over the hall. Many of the monks mumbled amongst themselves. Some rose and gathered together near the archbishop. William began to turn, but locked eyes with the archbishop.
    “Turn from this path, knight,” the archbishop commanded.
    William knew there would be no turning back from this. The monks knew they came for the archbishop. Others would know of their mission after they left. They would be seen as failures if the archbishop did not return with them. They would be laughed at. Ridiculed. He turned and followed his friends from the hall.
    William had missed that first opportunity to abort their mission, to talk his friends into leaving. But he knew Reginald would never have left regardless of any arguments William might have