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"You are right. You are right," Simon muttered. "I have a guide." |
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The trap to kill him must be laid at Iford. If it had been set on the road there, the messenger would have tried to divert him into that road, but he had ridden with them to Roselynde without protest. Simon cursed under his breath. He had told Alinor it was not safe to leave castellans in the same keep for generations. If he could lay his hands upon Sir Giles, there would be no trouble convincing him to tell his men to obey Simon. |
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The thought of that convincing made Simon laugh aloud. He hoped Sir Giles would not yield too readily. He would begin on the thighs and peel the skin from him like a grape, adding salt and wine to the bare, quivering fleshSimon jerked his mind from that future pleasure to remind himself that he would also need to wrest the secret of how Sir Giles was to communicate the success of his venture to John before dispatching the treacherous castellan to his just reward in Hell. Once he knew that, he could make his plans for obtaining entrance into Kingsclere Keep and for his further actions. |
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Now his mind worked smoothly enough. He dismissed Brother Philip kindly and thanked him. He summoned the master of the castle guard, gave low-voiced instructions about the messenger who had accompanied his party. When the master of the guard returned, several hours later, he was grinning. With him he brought the messenger's clothing and certain information he had wrung from the man before he died. Simon questioned him briefly about who and how many men had accompanied Alinor. They were good men, Simon thought. If they were still alive, they would be helpful. He had already figured out what time he should reach Iford if he had started this day instead of the previous evening and had traveled by the shorter route without undue haste. Simon went to |
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