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prince’s orders that he took Count Torrs hostage. The ransom he has demanded is exorbitant and I doubt it can be paid.’
    ‘Is the count still a prisoner here?’ Raphael asked, and frowned as the steward nodded. ‘You will have him brought here to me instantly, please. Has the man been ill-treated?’
    ‘He has been kept in a tower room rather than a dungeon, because your father knew he had powerful friends. Others have not fared so well.’
    ‘I shall hear more of this another time. Release the count at once and then have wine and food brought to us. I must beg the count’s pardon and hear his story before I give him his freedom,’ Raphael said.
    ‘You will not demand the ransom?’ Mellors asked nervously.
    ‘I have no wish to beggar any man,’ Raphael said.
    ‘The prince may be angry. He may demand his share of the ransom,’ the other man pointed out.
    ‘Prince John is not the King,’ Raphael said. ‘I have heard that Richard is still a prisoner in the Holy Land. Now that I am home, it is my intention to do what I can to have him freed.’
    ‘I am heartily glad to hear it, my lord. We are all pleased to see you home again—and shall be happy when the King is back on England’s throne—but you must be careful. Prince John does not suffer traitors to live in peace.’
    ‘He is the traitor, Mellors. Leave me now and ask the count to give me the pleasure of his company at my table,’ Raphael ordered.
    ‘Yes, my lord.’ Mellors bowed his head respectfully. ‘Everything shall be as you order.’
    Raphael watched as he walked from the room, then sat in his father’s chair. It was heavy and carved from English oak, its arms smooth with wear. His grief for his father was muted by the knowledge that the man he knew had obviously died long ago. In his place a monster had come into being and he could not regret the passing of such a man. Lord Mornay had committed crimes against his neighbours and no doubt it would take some considerable time to mend fences.
    * * *
    The attack came suddenly towards dusk that evening. Rosamunde was deep in thought when she heard a cry from ahead of her and then saw a band of armed menrush out from the trees at them. They were on foot but armed with cudgels and swords, and there were enough of them to surround the small train that Angelina had sent with her.
    Fitzherbert had been pulled from his horse and one of the robbers was threatening him with a sword. Money was being demanded and Rosamunde knew that at any moment they would steal the packhorse and ride off with everything—the money for Count Torrs’s ransom and all her possessions.
    She would have failed her cousin and her father would be forced to repay his debt. Without thinking, she took the reins of the packhorse and started to ride off, calling to Maire to follow. The robbers were immediately alert to what she was trying to do and two of them lunged at her, causing her horse to shy.
    ‘Leave me alone,’ she cried as she struggled to hold both her horse and the packhorse. ‘How dare you attack me? I am the daughter of a nobleman and you will hang for this.’
    ‘Not afore we’ve ‘ad our way wiv yer,’ one of the men said and laughed evilly as he grabbed her arm and tried to pull her from her horse.
    Rosamunde screamed, realising the full extent of the danger she was in as she saw the naked lust in his eyes. These men would not be satisfied with her gold; they would rape her and leave her for dead. Angelina should have sent more armed men with her. The heavy load the packhorse bore had attracted the attention ofthese robbers and her escort was not strong enough to defend it.
    The sudden cries and the sound of thudding hoof-beats drew her gaze in the direction of a party of men riding towards them. They charged, swords and lances at the ready, their leader giving a blood-curdling war cry that sent shivers through all that heard it. The robbers knew that they were beaten and immediately retreated, leaving