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By Root 1881 0

was burning high enough to singe his knees. William noticed a smell, vaguely familiar but also slightly sickening; and after a moment he realized it was the smell of burning flesh, and it was familiar because it was like the smell of dinner. The skin of Gilbert’s legs and feet was turning brown and cracking, the hairs on his shins going black; and fat from his flesh dripped into the fire and sizzled. Watching his agony mesmerized William. Every time Gilbert cried out, William felt a profound thrill. He had the power of pain over a man, and it made him feel good. It was a bit like the way he felt when he got a girl alone, in a place where nobody could hear her protest, and pinned her to the ground, pulling her skirts up around her waist, and knew that nothing could now stop him from having her.

Almost reluctantly, he said again: “Where are you going?”

In a voice that was a suppressed scream, Gilbert said: “To Sherborne.”

“Why?”

“Cut me down, for the love of Christ Jesus, and I’ll tell you everything.”

William sensed victory within his grasp. It was deeply satisfying. But he was not quite there yet. He said to Walter: “Just pull his feet out of the fire.”

Walter grabbed Gilbert’s tunic and pulled on it so that his legs were clear of the flames.

“Now,” William said.

“Earl Bartholomew has fifty knights in and around Sherborne,” Gilbert said in a strangled cry. “I am to muster them and bring them to Earlscastle.”

William smiled. All his guesses were proving gratifyingly accurate. “And what is the earl planning to do with these knights?”

“He didn’t say.”

William said to Walter: “Let him burn a little more.” “No!” Gilbert screamed. “I’ll tell you!”

Walter hesitated.

“Quickly,” William warned.

“They are to fight for the Empress Maud, against Stephen,” Gilbert said at last.

That was it: that was the proof. William savored his success. “And when I ask you this in front of my father, will you answer the same?” he said.

“Yes, yes.”

“And when my father asks you in front of the king, will you still tell the truth?”

“Yes!”

“Swear by the cross.”

“I swear by the cross, I’ll tell the truth!”

“Amen,” William said contentedly, and he began to stamp out the fire.

They tied Gilbert to his saddle and put his horse on a leading rein, then rode on at a walk. The knight was barely able to stay upright, and William did not want him to die, for he was no use dead, so he tried not to treat him too roughly. Next time they passed a stream he threw cold water over the knight’s burned feet. Gilbert screamed in pain, but it probably did him good.

William felt a wonderful sense of triumph mingled with an odd kind of frustration. He had never killed a man, and he wished he could kill Gilbert. Torturing a man without killing him was like stripping a girl naked without raping her. The more he thought about that, the more he felt the need of a woman.

Perhaps when he got home ... no, there would be no time. He would have to tell his parents what had happened, and they would want Gilbert to repeat his confession in front of a priest and perhaps some other witnesses; and then they would have to plan the capture of Earl Bartholomew, which would surely have to take place tomorrow, before Bartholomew mustered too many fighting men. And still William had not thought of a way to take that castle by stealth, without a prolonged siege....

He was thinking with frustration that it might be a long time before he even saw an attractive woman when one appeared on the road ahead.

There were five people in a group, walking toward William. One of them was a dark-haired woman of about twenty-five years, not exactly a girl, but young enough. As she came closer William became more interested: she was quite beautiful, with dark brown hair that came to a devil’s peak on her brow, and deep-set eyes of an intense golden color. She had a trim, lithe figure and smooth tanned skin.

“Stay back,” William said to Walter. “Keep the knight behind you while I talk to them.”

The group stopped and looked warily at him. They were a family, obviously: there was a tall