HIS VISOR WAS UP, a cold expression on his scarred face. I fastened on the hard-set eyes of Black Cross, the man I hated more than any other in this world.

Twice, I spat at him.

Twice what, innkeeper?

Twice I have to rid the world of the scum who killed my wife and child.

I rushed toward him, hurtling my sword at his neck.

The Tafur put his visor down and stood his ground, pinning back my strongest thrust with ease. I hacked at him again and again. Each time he parried my blade.

You have caused meshame , Black Cross said. Through his visor's narrow slits I could see his pupils darting from side to side.

With a ferocious howl, he leaped and swung his blade down on me with the power of a mangonel. I darted backward, the wind from his blade only inches from my face.

The Tafur did not even stop to regain his breath. He swung again, backhanded, aiming to slice through my legs. The mighty force of his blow almost drove my own blade into my thigh.

Slowly I forced his blade upward, but it took all of my strength. I felt like a boy straining against the power of a fully grown man.

You are every bit the fool your reputation speaks. Black Cross chuffed. When I kill you, Stephen will take the lanceand the lives of your men. Your severed head will be at the foot of your whore's bed.

He sliced at me again, each blow harder to fend off. I darted to the left, trying to catch my breath. Only my speed prevented me from being cut in half. But my quickness was waning. I couldn't beat Black Cross, I realized.

He butted me, helmet into my forehead. I staggered back, the crash reverberating through my skull. The breath was heavy in my chest. A voice inside me pleaded,Please ,God , show me the way.

The Tafur pressed closer and I stumbled, trying to scamper away. I crawled along the bank of the river, knowing my death was only seconds away. Stephen would end up with the holy lance after all.

Black Cross stood in front of me. There was no escaping him now. He put up his visor and let me see his awful, scarred face.

He sniffed. Your soul is already lost. I only do God's dirty work by delivering your corpse to Him.

For a moment I blinked, disoriented, the sun glinting off his armor. I felt in another place, Antioch, staring up at the Turk, sucking in the last, precious breaths of my life.

Once again, the craziest urge took hold of me.

I began to laugh. I did not know at what. That I had come full circle, back to the moment of my death? That despite all my hope, life in the duchy would remain as it was? That I would die in the patchwork clothing of a fool?

Something crazy had come into my head. A line from a stupid joke. I don't know why it seemed funny to me, but I coul............