Read Rising Fire for Free Online

allowed himself to think on what to say to them.
    Their lack of questions to this point in time spoke of their longtime friendship and their shared past of covering one another’s backs in battles large and small. Their patience was wearing thin now—he could tell from their exchanged glances and nods—but he doubted that either one of them would believe the tale if he told it.
    Which he could not, for so many reasons.
    â€œYou were with the king a long time, Will.” Roger’s keen blue eyes watched William’s face for any sign and signal that he could not speak openly. Lifting the mug to his mouth, Roger asked, “Did he relent and promise his support?”
    â€œHe has,” William began.
    â€œWhat is his price?” Gautier interrupted. When William and Roger looked at him, he shrugged. “There is always a price for the king’s consent.”
    Nothing came free in this world, and even kings commanded a fee of some kind—whether men to fight, gold to pay, or in this case, his soul. William needed to examine whether the cost of his claims to his lands was worth the odd price the king placed on it. To reveal it to his friends, however, the ones he would rely on to carry out the task, was against the king’s orders. So for now he would keep Alexander’s strange behavior and request to himself and give only the most general of explanations.
    â€œThe king”—he lowered his head and his voice to keep his words from going too far—“would like me to investigate one of his councilors. A question of . . . loyalty.” That was plain enough with sufficient substance to leave the bewildering details to him alone.
    â€œDo you take up this task?” Gautier asked after downing the rest of his ale. “Do we take up this task?”
    William met their gazes and nodded. “I have no choice, but you do. I cannot give you more than I just have, and I do not expect you to agree blindly.” Blindly, without knowledge of the king’s possible madness. His friends deserved more than that. More that he could not—would not—give them now.
    â€œWill there be fighting?” Roger asked, drinking down the last swallow in his cup.
    â€œAye, there will be fighting,” he replied without hesitation. He knew—he could feel it in his blood—that there would be fighting and death. He nodded to Roger.
    â€œAnd women?” Gautier asked. The randiest of the bunch, Gautier could be depended on to find the willing woman, or women, in any village or town where they journeyed.
    â€œI suspect so,” he said, laughing. Growing serious, he looked at each of his friends. “This will not be an easy task. But it is the one I must carry out to get clear title to my lands . . . and our future home.”
    â€œThe others?” Gautier asked. They’d left the other ten of their group outside the city, camping in a clearing near the ferry road.
    â€œToo many,” William said, shaking his head. He leaned back on his stool and rested against the wall. “The three of us and one more. I will send for the others if they are needed.”
    â€œJust do not bring Herve. He is too pretty and will steal the good ones,” Gautier offered. The two were often in competition over women.
    â€œYou will just have to hone your skills, Gautier. Herve is one of my best warriors.” Gautier slammed down his hands on the rough wooden table in mock anger.
    â€œWhen do we depart?” Roger asked, sliding his empty cup closer to the pitcher for him to fill.
    â€œTwo days hence. It will not be a long journey, but I have arrangements to make first.” William emptied his cup and stood to leave. “Finish it. I will meet you back at the camp.” There were people he needed to speak with in Edinburgh and then in Dunfermline before leaving on this mission for the king.
    â€œDo you wish us to accompany you now?”