Thomas’s voice hardened. “That is an order.”
“And this is me using the sense God gave a damp turnip. You ride into Belmaine’s yard with no witness but your temper and your horse, and by nightfall they’ll have you named butcher, abductor, traitor, and whatever else Belmaine can fit into his mouth. You need me.”
“I need those letters safe.”
Hob jerked his chin toward the road behind them. “Then send Simon and Mark. They’re close enough to hear the shouting if I bellow.”
Thomas blinked, then turned.
Hob gave him a look of deep pity. “You rode with six men, my lord. You remember, six? More than two, less than a proper army.”
From behind the bend came the hurried sound of horses and men trying to look as if they had not been scrambling to catch up to their lord for the past mile.
Simon arrived first, rain dripping from his cap, eyes going wide at the sight of three bound men, one wounded knight, Hob’s muddy axe, and Thomas standing in the road with murder still very much wearing its boots.
“Saints,” Simon said.
Mark drew up behind him. “Did we miss it?”
Hob looked pleased. “Most of it.”
Thomas pointed to Aymon. “You and Mark take Sir Aymon to Master Pickering. You take the packet. You take those two alive.”
“The third?” Simon asked.
The man with the broken mouth moaned.
Thomas looked at him. “Especially the third.”
Simon swallowed. “Aye, my lord.”
Aymon’s pride made one last, valiant attempt to stand upright. “I can ride.”
Hob squinted at him. “You can sit on a horse and complain. Different thing.”
Aymon gave him a look that would have withered a lesser man.
Thomas placed the sealed packet in Aymon’s hand, then closed the man’s fingers around it. “You’ll tell Pickering what happened here.”
“I will.”
“You’ll tell him Belmaine has the other packet.”
“I will.”
“You’ll tell him Ashcombe saved your life.”
Aymon looked up at him through rain, blood, and a great deal of inconvenient intelligence.
“I will tell him Lord Ashcombe stopped on the road when he had every reason not to.”
Aymon’s expression softened by the smallest degree. “The queen does not forget debts.”
“I didn’t do it for the queen.”
“Nay.” Aymon’s mouth curved. “That is why she will value it.”
Thomas did not have room in him for that. Not now. Not with Belmaine’s house ahead and Amelia somewhere inside it.