“Here is your meal, Benedict,” James announced, entering the small room. He held a trencher of several slices of meat.
Benedict made a face. “Very well. Set it down.”
James set it down on the nearby table and then smiled. “I have brought you something else.” He disappeared through the door and then returned holding a sword. Not just any sword, but his own.
Benedict took it from his brother, his hands gliding over the hilt. “How did you get it away from Henry?”
James smile widened. “I have my ways. You must hide it until you are ready for it.”
He nodded. He was grateful for his brother’s help, but couldn’t help wondering at it. He adored James, but generally James did what benefited James and not much else.
James handed him the trencher. “Have you and your sorcerer planned your escape
