Once a Knight Read Online Free PDF Page A

not the man I once was. Every fledgling knight in Lancaster has challenged me these last days just to brag they fought the greatest mercenary of our times. I defeated every one of them—beardless boys with more bravado than sense. But when I came up against a seasoned knight, I lost.”
    She excused him. “Your other trials exhausted you.”
    He paid her no heed. “I suffered abject, humiliating defeat.”
    She caught his hand and opened it, then placed the coins in it and closed his fingers around them. “Here are your first moon’s wages. The innkeeper has been paid as well. Should you decide to accept my employment, I’m at the Crowing Cock Inn. Be there by dawn.”
    â€œM’lady,” her man Gunnewate remonstrated. “Yecan’t give a scoundrel money like that and think ye’ll see him return!”
    David glared, wanting to kill him for his insolence, and realized he could see better now. Glancing up at the sky, he saw clouds gathering. Blessed, blessed clouds, here to break the drought.
    Lady Alisoun noticed them, too, and demanded her wooden shoes from Ivo. Lumbering like a trained bear, Ivo brought them and went down on one knee to place them over her leather slippers. Answering Gunnewate, Lady Alisoun said, “He is the legendary David of Radcliffe. He shall not disappoint me.”
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    Sir David had better not disappoint her. If he did, this whole wretched journey and uncomfortable visit had been in vain, and she would have to return to George’s Cross bringing little more than a rainstorm.
    Without expression, Alisoun observed King Henry III hold court in the great hall of Lancaster Castle just as he had done every morning since he’d traveled north. Patiently, she waited for her chance to present her petition, all the while trying to ignore the presence of Osbern, duke of Framlingford, the king’s cousin and her most dreaded enemy.
    Osbern didn’t make it easy. He watched her with a smirk. Anyone who didn’t know them would believe them to be lovers. Certainly Osbern had taken care to represent them as such, and his power and influence were such that her dignified haughtiness only fed the rumors.
    After all, she was the widow Alisoun of George’s Cross, powerful and influential in her own way. Never mind that Osbern’s wife had been her best friend, and that her unexplained disappearance still created gossip.When coupled with Osbern’s insinuations and his rather spectacular masculine beauty, Alisoun’s extended sojourn as a single woman created speculation and made her long for the safety of home.
    Now she could go, for David would fulfill his duty. He had to, for he was the legendary mercenary. He even looked the part. His rangy form and grace proclaimed his strength. The threads of gray in his dark hair proclaimed his experience. Hard heavy brows lent a severity to his expression, and his eyes had seen much. Yet his mouth saved him from the ruthlessness of most mercenaries. He grinned, he grimaced, he pursed his lips in avarice. Every thought that crossed his mind, he expressed with his mouth, and without saying a word.
    She liked his mouth.
    Seeing that King Henry had finished with the lesser folk, Alisoun stepped forward and curtsied. Not too deeply, for her family’s bloodlines were no less ancient and noble than his, but a modest, respectable curtsy.
    Hale at forty-five, with a superficial charm that covered his capricious nature, King Henry responded with a nod. “Lady Alisoun, how good to see you at our court again. You attend every morning, flattering us with your attention. Have you some instructions to share this day?”
    He had a distasteful inclination toward sarcasm, especially with her. She didn’t understand or like it, for she knew full well an unhappy monarch could create problems for her and the lands which she held in her custody. So she smiled with constrained charm and said, “I