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killed Geoffrey. It struck true, buried to the hilt in his throat, and no sooner thrown than Warrick had snatched the sword right out of the hand of the man nearest him.
    He did not get to use this better weapon, however. Another sword hilt smashed into his skull, and he fell slowly to the floor.
    The two men who had been fortunate enough to stay out of his reach now stood over him panting. A full minute passed before they thought to sheathe their swords. One nudged Warrick with his boot, just to be sure he would not be rising. Blood appeared in the dark blond hair that was still wet from his bath, but he breathed. He was not dead and so was still of use.
    “This man is no serf, as we were told to find,” the one man said to the other. “The way he fought, he can only be a knight. Could you not tell the difference when you saw him enter the bathing room?”
    “Nay, he was coated in travel dust. I merely noted he wore no armor, and he had the right color eyes as well as the blond hair Lord Gilbert insisted on. I considered it fortunate that I happened to see him at all.”
    “Gag him, then, and hope Lord Gilbert does not decide to speak to him.”
    “What difference? Half of Lord Godwine’s knights are naught but churls. And we have found no other with both the right hair and the right eyes. What is he wanted for anyway?”
    “That is not our concern, merely do we do as told. But did you have to hit him so hard? Now we must carry him.”
    The other snorted. “Better that than to deal with him awake again. When I first saw him, he did not seem so big as this. That boy, think you he was his son?”
    “Mayhap, which means he will awake fighting again. Best to bind those hands and feet as well. Even Lord Gilbert might have trouble subduing this one.”

Chapter 6
    Rowena had fallen asleep at the edge of the bed, staring at the spot on the floor where Lord Godwine had fallen. Gilbert had removed the body himself, then left her alone with the repeated admonishment to let no one in the room but him.
    She would have liked to lock him out as well. If she had had a weapon, she might even have tried to kill him then, before he forced her to even more unspeakable acts. But she had no weapon. Nor could she run away without endangering her mother’s life. She could not even say which was worse, wedding and bedding Lyons, or what Gilbert planned for her now. Nay, what could be worse to a girl only just eight and ten than bedding that lecherous old man?
    She could feel not the least pity for his death,even though she might have been partwise responsible. He had likely murdered a goodly number of innocent women who had had the misfortune to be his wives, simply because he had tired of them or needed a new dowry to fill his coffers. She knew there were many unscrupulous men who did exactly that, and without the least guilt. But then she also knew there were different men, decent men, like her father. The whole world had not gone to hell, merely this small portion of it during this reign of anarchy.
    It was still dark, the keep still silent, when Gilbert came back to wake her. Rowena could not guess at the time, though the exhaustion of her body and mind told her she had not slept long. But Gilbert’s first words brought her wide awake.
    “All is in readiness for you. My men were fortunate in their find. The hair and eye colors were what concerned me most, to be exactly those of your husband’s, for that is what is first noticed on a babe, and those we have matched.”
    Blood rushed through Rowena, hot, then cold. Her stomach muscles tightened almost to cramps in her fear. He had really done it, found a man to throw her to, just as her husband would have done if she had not conceived soon enough for him. Two of a kind, they were, Lyons and Gilbert, even in their thinking. She would not be surprised if he had found the same man, this John whom her husband would have used.God’s mercy, why would this nightmare not end?
    “Make