“I don’t know,” Thomas said, squeezing her. “I’ll ask Henry.” And hope it doesn’t mean I’m a dead man. He handed her the key to the tower. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
***
Six hours later, Thomas was walking a slow patrol around the square, watching the refugee men huddling together in the cold, wrapped in blankets and sitting on bags of their possessions, facing the fires Henry had ordered built for them. The women and children had been given shelter in the stores and taverns around the square at Henry’s order. One of the merchants had protested and had been told in no uncertain terms that he could accept it or spend the night chained against the fountain. The man had relented, grumbling.
Thomas walked slowly along the perimeter, watching the men. He was sure there was no threat ther
