Page 63 of Raven's Rise
“No!” The boy looked up, his glare suddenly hot with emotion. “But you are!”
Rafe was truly confused now. “I’m no thief, boy.”
“You stole my brother’s life.”
Brutal as the accusation was, Rafe relaxed, thinking he now knew what ate at the boy. He said, more calmly, “Child, I’ve killed many men on the battlefield, true. But they were soldiers, just as I am.”
“Don’t call me a child. He wasn’t a soldier. You didn’t kill him face to face.”
“Explain yourself.”
“There was a tournament in Ashthorpe. You won. My brother was watching, and he begged you for a coin. Everyone heard that the Knight of the Raven is generous,” the boy explained, sounding distinctly unimpressed.
“So I gave him a coin and you’re accusing me of his death? How?”
“You gave him a few silver coins—so bright, almost white. He showed them to me, and I never saw anything so fine. But I wasn’t the only person he showed. Some others who came to watch the tournament had more in mind. They enticed him to play at dice with them. My brother was so dazzled by the silver that he wanted to add more to his stock. He followed them to where they said they were gambling. But as soon as the group was out of sight of anyone in town, the others turned on him. They attacked him and stole the coins.”
Rafe still wasn’t sure how that made him responsible for anything. “Then what?”
“One had a knife, and used it,” the boy explained. “My brother was stabbed in the belly for the sake of his new fortune. He managed to crawl to a street, and someone recognized him. I was sent for, and I ran to him. There was no hope. He told me what happened as he lay dying. He begged God for mercy, and none came. He died in front of a tavern, with only me to hear his last words.”
“Sorry I am for your loss, but I was not his killer,” Rafe said.
“No?Yougave him the coins. He thought the angels had smiled on him at last. But you’re no angel. If you hadn’t given him charity, he’d still be alive. I swore I’d find you and take vengeance.”
“You’re young for vengeance, boy. How will your death help your brother now?”
“At least I’ll join him. We’ll be in a world where a few silver coins mean nothing. Kill me.”
“No,” Rafe said.
“Kill me! Or give me coins in charity, so I might die the same way my brother did! I’ve followed you this far. You owe me that.”
“I owe you nothing.” Though if the boy followed him all the way from Ashthorpe, he deserved something for his trouble. That required dedication and sheer grit.
“You took my only living family from me with your showy charity. Others might be fooled, but I’m not. You’re a fraud. A murderer who pretends to be a pious saint.”
Those words hit Rafe hard, in a way the previous accusations did not. “I’m not a murderer.”
“But you’re no saint, either. You curse everything you touch. A gift turns into a death sentence. I’ll tell the world about the Knight of the Raven!”
“Tell the world,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “I care not.”
“You do! Why else do you act as you do, offering all your winnings to the church and to the poor?”
“Because I do not need them.”
“Then why fight for such prizes in the first place?”
“Fighting is what I do.”
“Then fight me! Damn you, fight me!” the boy hissed, once again pushing at Rafe.
“Stop it! There will be no fighting!”
Rafe looked up to see that Angelet had found them. He’d been so intent on the boy’s story that he hadn’t even noticed her approach.
“You should have waited for me to tell you it was safe, my lady,” Rafe said gruffly. He wondered just how much of the conversation she had overheard.
