The cowards were still hiding, but Mercadier knew he would find them, once he dealt with Pierre. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the woman, and watch the knight come apart, as he did when Mercadier killed his last woman. He strolled into the tiny courtyard. One of his men had the boy, holding him by his shirt. The kid looked like he put up a fight, but Mercadier knew it was more likely the man holding him took it upon himself to lay fists to the boy. “I charge you with treason,” Mercadier said, reaching the boy’s side. He uncoiled the rope he carried in his hand, and slipped the noose around the boy’s neck. The boy appeared truly frightened, and Mercadier found some satisfaction in that, but still, there was no mercy for him. “King Richard has pardoned me,” the boy tried to argue. Mercadier cut any further argument off, by yanking on the end of the rope he held in his hand, and pulling him into the center of the courtyard. “Pierre Basile, you are guilty of treason against the high king of England, and will die accordingly.”
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