Silverwolf by Jacey Bedford

Author:Jacey Bedford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2016-11-17T15:21:54+00:00

20

A Wedding

AS WE TURNED ON TO THE ROAD to Denby Dike Side, Corwen said, “I need a run.”

I knew what kind of run he meant. “It’s daylight, is it safe?”

“Safe enough if I stick to the wood. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

I rode through the wood on one of the paths that wound between the trees and ran roughly parallel to the river, leading Timpani and carrying Corwen’s clothes wrapped in a bundle. I kept seeing flashes of silver gray out of the corner of my eye and sometimes turned to catch sight of Corwen’s wolf as he disappeared into the undergrowth. Twice he splashed through the river where it ran shallow over rocky steps and once he disappeared for fully thirty minutes before padding back and sitting in the path facing me. I pulled up.

“Ready for your clothes?”

He yipped and I dropped them to the ground between the two horses, providing some measure of shelter as he changed from wolf to naked man in an instant. He dragged his clothes and boots on quickly, shivering in the April afternoon.

“I quartered the ground to see if I could pick up Thatcher’s trail,” he said. “But the rain has washed it away. Let’s head for Denby Dike Side and check at the White Hart. Also I’d like to ride by Kaye’s Mill and see how they fared in the storm.”

The wood filled the river valley from below Deverell’s Mill all the way to the village of Denby Dike Side where Kaye’s Mill straddled the river. There was a corn mill in the village, a baker, a grocer, two butchers, three public houses and two nonconformist chapels. Rows of narrow stone cottages clung to the steep valley sides, built into the hill.

Corwen pulled up Timpani. “Kaye’s mill dam; does anything look strange to you?”

“Well, it’s full, which is more than I can say for ours.”

“It’s not only full, but the level is considerably higher than usual. It’s almost as if they had their own sluice gates set to catch the runoff as the extra water flooded down the valley.”

“You think Kaye knew?”

“I don’t know, but it’s advantageous, isn’t it?”

The White Hart stood on the corner of the junction where the road forked. A stable boy came out, and Corwen gave him a penny to hold the horses since we were only going to be a few minutes.

The interior of the inn was dim. The gray day outside seemed to have invaded here, too, and though a fire burned in the hearth, it was half-hearted.

“Spencely, isn’t it?” Corwen addressed the landlord.

“It is, Mr. Deverell, sir. I’d heard you’d returned. What can I get you and the lady?”

I saw Corwen about to refuse a drink, but I was already chilled from the ride. Corwen never seemed to feel the cold, but I wasn’t so hardy. “Sherry would be nice,” I said, “and a few minutes by the fire.”

“My best sherry coming up,” Spencely said.

“And some information, if you please,” Corwen said. “I understand Mr. Thatcher was here.

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