EXHAUSTED, AND AFRAID that Estella would sound the alarm, I staggered from the fallen knight's room. I was now a murderer.

I took my staff and sword and was able to climb down the ramparts from an undetected spot near Norcross's chamber. The moat was dry, and I crossed it on foot.

From there, I ran. Ran in the shadows through the darkened streets of the surrounding village. Ran until I found the woods.

My arm hung like a roast sliced open. The wound was bleeding profusely. I came upon a stream and cleaned it as best I could and tied it with a strip of cloth from my tunic. I was an outcast again, a criminal now, not just a deserter from a far-off war but a murderer-a killer of a noble. No doubt Baldwin would come after me. I needed to put as much distance as I could between me and Treille. But where would I go?

I hid in the woods, keeping off the main roads. I was hungry and cold, but the knowledge that I had avenged Sophie and Phillipe warmed me inside. I felt vindicated, restored. I hoped God forgave me.

Just after first light, I heard a loud rumble. I hid in the brush as a posse of armed riders, dressed in Baldwin's colors, galloped by. I didn't know where they were heading. Veille du P?re? Sweeping the roads and villages?

I headed east, tracking the main road, through the dee............