Page 42 of Staff of Nightfall

“If?” Estevan swallowed a mouthful of food and tilted his head. “Why are you here, then?”

Regulus took a drink and set down the goblet harder than intended. He focused on the goblet. He needed to keep calm. To be a captain, not an emotionally compromised fool.

“Through a series of events, Adelaide and I were headed back to her father’s castle when we learned that Carrick took the castle and is holding her parents hostage.” He looked up, meeting each of their eyes. “That’s why I called you here. We have a new assignment. We’re rescuing Lord and Lady Belanger.”

“From a castle?” Drez gestured to the men at the table. “With what army? You’re not immortal anymore, need I remind you, and we’d be facing someone who is! Six men can’t storm a castle. And then we’ll have to face Carrick?” His hands fisted on either side of his plate. “Do you have a plan? Some secret that will give us an advantage? Do—”

“Enough!” Regulus slammed his fist on the table. Drez’s objections had already occurred to him, and he knew his friend had a point. But he’d made a promise. “We leave in half an hour.”

Dresden’s eyes flashed. “That’s not an ans—”

“Sir Dresden,” Regulus snapped. “Am I your captain or not? Am I your liege or not?” He hated himself even as he said it, and he hated the hard look that slipped over his best friend’s face, the uncomfortable way the rest of the men averted their eyes. But he didn’t have time to waste arguing.

Dresden worked his jaw. “Regulus, attacking Carrick when he has the mark, especially in a castle, is—”

“We’ll aim for stealth.”

“And if we’re caught?” Dresden demanded. “You—”

“Sir Jakobs! Do I answer to you? Or do you answer to me?”

Dresden’s face darkened. He pushed away from the table and stood, his movements stiff. “I’ll be ready in the courtyard in half an hour,my lord.” The tightness in his voice cut straight through Regulus, but he didn’t soften his expression or flinch. They had an agreement. In private, Drez could say whatever he wanted, but he didn’t question Regulus in front of the men. Dresden gave an abrupt, shallow bow, straightening with a momentary wince, and strode from the hall.

Jerrick leaned back in his chair with a disapproving frown. “He didn’t deserve that. Especially not after what happened.”

Regulus’ stomach pinched at Jerrick’s tone. “What happened?”

The men glanced at each other. None looked eager to share.

“What. Happened?”

Jerrick pulled at his shirt collar. “When Carrick came...we weren’t here. Perceval and I didn’t see them arrive. Estevan and Caleb were out hunting. When they couldn’t find you, Carrick threatened to beat Dresden until you showed yourself. Sir Gaius convinced him not to.”

Perceval scratched his stubble. “Sir Gaius and Lord Drummond left, but Carrick stayed to see if you would return.” The men seemed fascinated with their food as Regulus’ chest clenched.

“He beat him,” Harold said from the stairwell. Regulus turned toward his squire. Harold’s tear-filled eyes blazed. “You were gone! Carrick was angry, so he hit Dresden. He punched him, again and again. Then he had his knights tie Dresden to a tree, and he took a belt to him. Because he knew hurting Dresden would hurt you. Thankfully, that knight arrived saying he’d seen the Black Knight and Lady Adelaide, so Carrick only used the belt a few times, but he hit hard. The bruises haven’t fully healed.” Harold clenched and unclenched his fists. “I should have done something.”

Regulus’ stomach lurched and his hands shook. He swallowed hard. “No, Harold...” Guilt choked off his words. He’d abandoned Drez. But he hadn’t thought...he couldn’t have known...I’m going to cut Carrick’s head off.

Harold slunk back up the stairs, shoulders drooping.

Regulus shoved his plate away, his appetite gone, but didn’t get up. He wouldn’t run away. The men ate in silence, glancing at him out of the corner of their eyes. One by one they left until only he and Perceval remained.

“He doesn’t blame you, Captain.”

Dresden should blame him. But blame wouldn’t help them rescue the Belangers. “He might have a point about trying to infiltrate a castle being a bad idea. It will be difficult, and...” He rubbed his temple. “I don’t want to know what Carrick will do to you all if he captures you.”

“We’d follow you anywhere, Captain. Drez is just being cautious.” Perceval stood. “I trust you, Captain. You always come through.”

Reluctantly, Regulus looked up. “What if I’m not sure how to do this?”

“I’d be dead half a dozen times over if not for you. You know I wouldn’t have settled down and served any random lord. Even Leonora couldn’t get me to do that. But I’ll fight anyone you ask me to. I’d die for you.” Perceval tapped his hand on the back of his chair. “We all would, Captain.”

“Thank you, Perceval. But I don’t want anyone to die for me.”

Perceval nodded with a smile. “That’s why we’d do it.”

Regulus slouched as Perceval left the hall. He tossed Magnus a piece of ham and returned to his room. It didn’t take long to put on a gambeson and his lightest chainmail shirt over his shirt. He needed speed and flexibility more than he wanted the extra protection of plate armor. As soon as he’d strapped a sword to his side, he headed to the stables. Dresden was there, his scimitars crossed over his back, waiting for a stable boy to saddle his brown destrier. After Regulus spoke to another stable boy, Dresden came over to him.

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