THAT NIGHT, I went out into the fields behind our camp, my chest exploding with rage.

I needed to be alone. I headed past the sentries manning our perimeter. What did I care if I was in danger? I wanted to hurl the blasted lance against the castle walls. Keep it, Stephen. My life has been sorrow and misery since I found it!

Behind me, the flames of a hundred fires sparkled in the night, my men dozing or making bets on what tomorrow would bring: fight or surrender.

I began to feel heartened, my shoulders free of strain. Maybe I would see Emilie if I walked close to the walls. Just for a moment, as I passed by the gates. The thought lifted me-that I might see her beautiful face one more time.

I let out a breath, cradling the lance in my palms, staring at the massive walls.

Suddenly I felt a muscular arm around my neck. I gulped for air, the grip tightening. The tip of a blade was pressed into my back.

Most accommodating, jester, hissed a voice in my ear.

You've picked a daring place for a murder. If I shout out, you will be m............