The Shock of Night by Patrick W. Carr

Author:Patrick W. Carr [Carr, Patrick W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC009020, FIC009030, FIC009000
ISBN: 9781441265463
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2015-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Gareth stood by his horse. His face knotted at seeing Bolt before relaxing a fraction when I emerged from the shadows of Myle’s workshop behind him. He cut his eyes to my guard before giving me a slight bow, as if he were concerned about giving offense. “Lord Dura.”

I dismissed the title with a wave of my hand at the same time Bolt made a sound in his throat like he’d swallowed his laughter. “I don’t think I’m going to be a lord much longer, Gareth—if I ever was.”

The corners of his mouth tilted upward. “It never did fit you very well.” He paused with his head tilted to one side. “Or maybe it was the other way around. You never seemed of a mind to play the part.”

I thought about that, and an unexpected thread of joy bloomed in my chest. “No, I didn’t, but I got what I wanted out of it.”

Gareth nodded and smiled. “Lady Gael. You’re a lucky man.”

Bolt shifted his feet. “The longer we delay the more likely we are to run into trouble.”

“What’s this about?” Gareth asked.

I moved past him to my horse. “I’ll tell you on the way.” I decided to keep things simple. “Three men attacked us two days ago. We killed them, but I can’t identify the bodies. We thought you might.”

The hooves of our mounts clattered against the cobblestones, drawing attention, as if our horses conspired to surrender us to the Vigil. Bolt searched the crowd, but no one approached us or even appeared to take note.

Gareth knew the streets of Bunard as well as or better than I did. My request wouldn’t be considered unusual, but the manner of its delivery and execution stuck out worse than a drunken libertine in a church pew. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you, my lord?”

Bolt shot me a look, his expression telling me not to betray the Vigil’s existence. “You have no idea, Gareth. The less I tell you, the less people can hold against you.”

His plain face knotted, and he actually looked angry. “Don’t you worry about that. I owe you, Willet. You sent me back to alert Captain Ean while you stayed with the mercenaries.”

I searched for the memory and found it, but hundreds of conversations with Ealdor had taught me to doubt myself. “I did?”

He shook his head at me. “How could you not remember?”

I stammered for a moment, relieved that at least that much of what I held in my head was true. “That was a long time ago.”

Gareth rolled his shoulders. “It might as well have been yesterday for me.”

On my right, I heard Bolt mutter under his breath. “Hold on to that thought.”

We approached the keep from the southeast, weaving through alleys as we came closer to the religious section. We stopped at the last inn before the cathedrals and paid the stable hand a silver piece too many to keep our horses against our return. Bolt pulled a trio of unlit torches from behind his saddle and handed one to each of us.

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