Blades of Valor Read Online Free PDF Page A

city to the end.”
    “The ring.”
    “Je ne m’enfuis pas,” Baldwin mused. “Je suis mort. Voici le coup.”
    “You prefer to practice your French? Fine. Obviously you have no interest in conversation with me.” Isabelle stood and noticed that Rowan, attentive, took a step in her direction from the far corner of the courtyard. “I am finished here. You are not the man my father promised you were. That is something I will, of course, report to him.”
    “Sit,” Baldwin said. He pulled at a necklace and showed a ring at the end of the silver chain. “Permit me my memories.”
    He handed Isabelle the ring, and she saw the symbol that matched her own ring, also on a silver chain around her neck. She sat, and Rowan moved back to the far wall but kept watching.
    “I was there,” Baldwin said. “ ‘Je ne m’enfuis pas. Je suis mort. Voici le coup.’ Those were Beaujeu’s last words. He had dropped his sword and walked away from the walls that we defended. We all called for him not to surrender. Geoffrey Harcourt among us. Beaujeu answered us, ‘I am not running away. I am dead. Here is the blow. ” ’
    Baldwin gave a smile that was almost a grimace. “It sounded more eloquent in French. And Beaujeu lifted his arm and showed us the mortal wound. He died of that wound, and the city fell that day. Harcourt among them.”
    He gave Isabelle a direct gaze. “I can tell you that Harcourt did not have a son. So I caution you not to trust the boy. If a person is deceitful in one thing, you know he is deceitful in others. You have a ring for me?”
    Isabelle removed it and handed it to Baldwin, who examined it closely and then nodded in approval before handing it back to her.
    “St. Jean d’Acre fell twenty-two years ago,” Isabelle said, again perplexed that she felt a need to defend Rowan and his earnestness. “He says his father died the day before he was born, ten years ago. He could not possibly have passed his twelfth birthday. But who is to say that Harcourt did not survive his wounds and live on to sire a son? Or were you consulted on all census matters in Acre?” she asked tartly.
    Baldwin scowled. “I would have my doubts, if I were you. It’s obvious by the boy’s appearance that he lives on the streets. Orphans tend to want to believe they are special in some way. Keep that in mind.”
    “I do not need your help in this matter.”
    “What matter, then?”
    “You are one of us, and you are pledged to serve when commanded.”
    “Make it a request, and I shall help. I do not take kindly to being commanded.”
    “There is a merchant named Muzzamar. You know of him.”
    “Certainly. He tends to respond well to bribery.”
    “Then meet with him. Pay him what it takes to learn why a knight called Sir William has—”
    “William is in Acre?” Baldwin leaned forward, making his sudden interest clear.
    Isabelle smiled in satisfaction at that. “So you aren’t uniquely aware of all who pass through these streets at any given moment.” Part of her thrilled to vindicate Rowan in this small way. But even more importantly, she did not miss Baldwin’s indignation at the knight’s name. “And am I also to understand that you are not a friend of his?”
    “I am not a friend of his.”
    “Then you and I are allies against a common enemy. You heard about the fire today?”
    “I did. What happened?”
    “Sir William escaped. It strikes me as strange, though. At my request, Rowan followed William today. Rowan reported back to me that after the fire the knight spent a half hour in discussion with Muzzamar, who, as Rowan discovered, leaves tomorrow with his camel caravan for Damascus. I need you to meet with Muzzamar immediately and find out what was discussed. After that, you and I will decide what action needs to be taken.” Baldwin grinned. “If it is a strike against William, this will be a pleasure. You wait here and my servants will feed you while I speak with Muzzamar.”
    “Us.”
    “Us?”