He acknowledged with a nod the two men-at-arms standing at Burnell's side. "No, my lord. Your lady has been as quiet as a mouse, and we've had no unwelcome visitors come this way." "Good. The ale and wine are still running freely in the hall, but take care you're all able to ride at dawn." "Aye, that we will, my lord." Guy waited until the three men had disappeared down the shadowed hall before he lifted the latch and entered the silent, dimly lit bedchamber. It was very late, and he barred the door carefully so as not to wake Leila. Accompanied by an escort which had also served as her personal guard while he remained in the great hall, she had retired from the post-tournament feast hours ago, pleading a headache, which he was also now suffering. The plentiful red wine he had consumed since losing the joust to Roger had done much to soothe his foul mood, but had left his head pounding. At least he could be thankful that there would be no tournament for him tomorrow, Guy thought, pulling off his boots.
