Reynold de Burgh: The Dark Knight. Deborah Simmons

he might have been excused for some conceit, but he did not even appear to be aware of his own good looks.

      As he slowly made his way across the tiled hall, Sabina decided it was the way he held himself that struck her. Although he had none of the arrogance of the vain, he possessed a quiet confidence that inspired trust. She knew that this man would not quake in the face of danger or dither over any decision. Steady strength and a cool, casual assurance had been bred into him and were evident in his every move.

      Sabina loosed the breath she had been holding as her body relaxed, perhaps for the first time in months. Maybe now she would not jump at each sound, fighting against the panic that seemed to assail her at every turn. For surely, if anyone could vanquish their foe and return their lives to normal, it was this man.

      As he drew nearer, Sabina saw he wore that rather grim expression Ursula had described as harsh. It wasn’t, of course, though neither was it open and friendly. Yet even his grimness was heartening, a sign that he was no light-hearted jester, but a serious warrior. Sabina wondered what had shaped him, for he was young, certainly younger than Urban, and maybe even younger than herself. And yet he must have a wealth of experiences beyond the small realm of Grim’s End.

      Yesterday, he had seemed nothing more than a figure of legend, a hero who appeared just when she needed him. But now Sabina found herself curious about the man himself. Had he fought in battles, knowing death and destruction such that a dragon was trifling in comparison? Sabina wanted to know, but he was no common visitor and she sensed that he would not welcome her intrusion.

      Indeed, his greeting was clipped, and when Sabina gestured toward her father’s chair, empty beside her own, he shook his head. Instead, he sat on the bench at the side of the table, as far away from her as possible.

      Ignoring the slight, Sabina called for Adele to bring some ale and food. Ursula had gone into the kitchens to help, but Urban appeared, as if he had been waiting behind the wooden screen at the end of the hall for Lord de Burgh’s arrival. Sabina gave him a nod, grateful, as always, for his sharp eyes and constant protection.

      ‘Mistress Sexton,’ Lord de Burgh said, recalling her attention.

      His sombre expression did not bode well, and Sabina felt a sudden fear that he would not hold to his word. Had he partaken of their hospitality only to go on his way, leaving them to their fate? ‘Yes?’ she asked, tension filling her once more.

      ‘I would like to take you away from here. I’ll be happy to escort you to the nearest village, to relatives you may have elsewhere, to your liege lord’s manor, or even to my own home,’ he said, looking as surprised by that last offer as Sabina felt. She might have questioned him about his residence, if she were not so distressed by his advice to leave her own.

      ‘She is not going anywhere with you.’ Urban spoke up from his position nearby, but Lord de Burgh did not bother to acknowledge him.

      The knight kept his gaze on Sabina as he made clear his intent. ‘I would like to take you all away from here.’

      Urban quieted at that, and why wouldn’t he? He had been trying to talk her into leaving for months. Apparently, he had found some common ground with the stranger, but Sabina could not join them. Instead, she felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Lord de Burgh had agreed to help them. Would he now abandon them, as had so many before him?

      ‘You have a duty to do, sir knight, and that is to slay the dragon. Have you thought better of the task over the night?’ Sabina spoke sharply, hoping to wound or shame him, but he gave no sign of feeling either.

      ‘I would only that you and the others be safely away while I dispatch the … beast.’

      Sabina felt a small measure of hope return, yet long months of frustration and broken promises made her weary and suspicious. She wanted to believe this man, just as she wanted to believe that a knight’s word was good. But she knew that was not always the case. How could she be sure of his success, if she were not here to witness the deed? And, even if she did trust him to complete his task, how could she flee as so many others had done and leave her village in the hands of a stranger?

      ‘No,’ Sabina said, quietly. ‘You are welcome to escort the others where they will, but I am staying.’

      ‘I’m not leaving you here with him!’ Urban sputtered.

      ‘That is your choice,’ Sabina said.

      Adele appeared, bringing some apples and cheese and ale, and Sabina ate silently, trying not to stare at the knight in their midst. She regretted the sharpness of her words, brought on by her own fear and panic, and she realised that she would do better to tread softly around the stranger. ‘Twould be wise to remember that she needed him and not the other way around.

      When she had finished her meagre meal, Sabina rose to her feet and addressed her visitor. ‘Come, my lord, let me show you my home, and perhaps you will see why I care so much for Grim’s End.’

      For a moment, Sabina thought he might argue, but a flicker of something, perhaps resignation, passed over his features. Then he downed his cider, picked up an apple and stood. ‘Very well,’ he said, with a nod.

      ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Urban asked.

      Sabina glanced towards him, surprised by his sharp tone. For a moment, she could find no cause for it, and then she realised just how far removed she was from the niceties that once had ruled her life.

      Those who stayed in Grim’s End had clung together, their numbers dwindling, until the remaining few had become like a wandering family, making camp where they would. No one paid heed to who was with whom, where or when. Indeed, Sabina often had been alone with Urban, who had made no objection at the time. But she could understand the need to keep up appearances for their guest.

      ‘Perhaps Ursula can walk with us,’ Sabina said, heading toward the kitchens to call for her attendant.

      Urban made some sort of sputtering noise again, as if protesting, and Sabina eyed him curiously. As her father’s man, he was well accustomed to protecting her, but she saw no need for it now. Everything about Lord de Burgh spoke of honesty and courage. And if he were up to mischief, he could have robbed and murdered them in their beds.

      And since he could easily overpower the older man, there was no sense in Urban following her every movement. The thought had barely crossed her mind when Sabina realised how much she longed to escape his company, and she immediately felt a pang of guilt. They were all grateful to Urban, for how could they have remained here without him? Yet his gloom and fear were a palatable presence. Sabina could not remember the last time she had been outside without the threat of attack dogging her steps. Nor could she remember the last time she had a conversation that did not revolve around the survival of their small band.

      Selfishly, Sabina longed for both, away from Urban’s sullen presence. Yet she might have invited him to join them had not Ursula appeared at that moment to say that Adele had need of him. Sending them all a chary look, Urban disappeared into the kitchens, while Ursula hurried to accompany them.