Behold the Dawn Read Online Free PDF Page A

temper, his anger, his hatred. Matthias had extracted a terrible price from the brethren of St. Dunstan’s. Heralding his actions as the sword of justice would never change the stark reality.
    On that fateful day, as he trudged away from St. Dunstan’s, Annan had looked back at the black smoke on the wind, and he had known then, as he knew now, that the darkness in the abbot was no different from that of Matthias himself.
    “Matthias of Claidmore is dead.” The words scraped his throat.
    Gethin didn’t flinch. “Do you really believe that?”
    “He is dead.”
    Gethin’s lip curled. He took a step back. “Well, then know this. There is one other whose knowledge of the past may yet be able to shed light on Roderic’s transgressions. William, Earl of Keaton.”
    The clatter of horses in the back alley sent Marek scudding toward the door, dragging the blindfolded palfrey behind him. But Annan barely heard.
    Lord William.
    How many years had it been since Lord William of Keaton had ridden through his thoughts? His nobleman mentor had stood by him all those years ago during St. Dunstan’s hell. More importantly perhaps, he had been one of the last men to lay eyes on the bloody Matthias of Claidmore.
    The approach of the horses grew louder, and Gethin edged forward half a step, the intensity of his shrouded gaze unquenched. “The Earl was under duress in the English court and has taken the vow of a Crusader. He, his wife, and his retinue left for the Holy Land several months ago.” He folded his arms into his sleeves. “He cannot destroy Roderic, but Roderic may destroy him, if Matthias does not return to act as he must. Roderic is waiting for them.”
    “To kill them?”
    “Does that matter to you, Marcus Annan? You cannot save them. Only Matthias of Claidmore can help the earl now.” He limped across the room and shouldered past Annan to reach the door that would lead into the tavern. He cocked his head toward the sound of the oncoming riders. “The count will see you upon a gibbet if you do not make your escape before the day is out. It would seem you have no choice but to leave Bari. ”
    Annan’s spine stiffened. “You mean I am left with no choice. Events today have played into your hands admirably. It occurs to me that Heladio learned of his nephew’s death sooner than he possibly could under normal circumstances. You were the witness he spoke of, weren’t you?”
    Gethin pulled open the door. “Does not the pursuit of truth justify many means?” He lurched into the drunken gaiety of the main room, and the door bumped shut behind him.
    “They’re coming,” Marek hissed.
    Annan took one step after the Baptist, then turned to where Marek crouched against the back door, the palfrey’s bridle clenched in his hand.
    “Wait.” He found his mouth had no moisture to swallow away the dryness in the back of his throat. “They’re moving too quickly to be looking for hoofprints.”
    The hoofbeats approached. The sound swelled, and then traveled past and dissipated, like a bubble that had inflated and then popped into nothing.
    Marek growled. “Ruddy lot of nerve that Baptist bloke’s got. Little wonder every diocese in Christendom’s got the habit of throwing him out. I wouldn’t have owned to knowing him if’n I were you.”
    Annan opened his lips but found he had no words to speak. The Gethin he had known so long ago would never have betrayed a friend.
    He sheathed his sword and crossed to the back door to take the reins from Marek. Easing the horse away from the door, he waited for Marek to open the passage to the alley. Once outside, he pulled the jerkin from the horse’s eyes and handed both it and the reins to the lad. “Go back to the camp and pack up our trappings. It’s unlikely you’ll be recognized, and the gates won’t stay closed long on the night of a tourney. The inns and taverns would lose too much business. When you’ve finished, meet me at the far end of the wharf.”
    “The