“The King’s business does not require that we give you any money. But it does require your cooperation.” Ula spoke before Ronan could answer. He shot her a silencing glare. If she saw it, she gave no indication of acknowledgment.

“I know the laws of Meris.” Keegan’s attention remained on Ronan. “But I’d rather be thrown into a prison than lose the money that those three horses would cost me. And I don’t have horses that run cheap.”

“Maybe one of your men could come with us,” Arien suggested, “to be certain they are returned to you safely.”

Ronan gritted his teeth, wishing the two beside him would keep quiet and let him handle Keegan Yore. He understood the man. He was a businessman like himself. Skill for money. It was simple.

“Where’s the sword?” Keegan asked. Ronan hesitated, then turned and pulled out the leather bundle. The blacksmith carefully unfolded the thick material from around the sword. The white metal seemed to glow and Keegan whistled when Ronan held it up.

“The King’s Sword made of Hadenla metal.” Ronan gave the weapon a swing, enjoying the feel of the weight that commanded the muscles of his hand and arm. “So you see I am no liar. And I mean to take the sword to Merisgale Castle so I am not a cheat either. But we need horses and someone who knows the way.”

Keegan nodded as he watched Ronan slide the weapon back into the leather and cover it. “Alright. I shall give you the use of horses but you shall owe me, Culley.”

“Sir Culley,” Arien corrected. “He is a royal guard now.”

Keegan grunted in response, clearly unimpressed. Neither was Ronan. He’d not considered that he was now a royal guard. A part of him swelled with pride while another part cursed at the extra responsibility that the title included even if it was only temporary.