The Wolf At The Door by Terry Cloutier

Author:Terry Cloutier [Cloutier, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ganderland Publishing
Published: 2023-11-02T16:00:00+00:00

Cheaton was larger than I’d been expecting—at least from what I could see in the darkness, anyway. The Holy House was hard to miss, though, built as it was off the town square and lit up by braziers along the wide stone walkway leading inside. Someone had hung a lantern from a pole extending out from the bell tower, and its light seemed to beckon me onward as I slipped among the shadows cast by smaller buildings. I paused in the mouth of a rat-infested alleyway, waiting scrunched down behind a rain barrel as two men appeared on what passed for the main street. The men were singing, each with an arm draped around the other’s shoulders, while their free hands held stoneware jugs that they waved around as they sang.

I could smell the reek of their unwashed bodies and the pervasive odor of fish that seemed to cling to everything, just as Fitz had warned me. The men paused, causing my heart to stop beating, until one drank from the jug he held while the other continued to sway drunkenly and sing. The drinker belched afterward, then realizing his jug was empty, he threw it into the alley over my head. I expected to hear the jug break into pieces as it hit the ground, but there was nothing except a slight thump.

I waited until the men had disappeared before I stood and began to search for the jug, eventually finding it intact on top of a pile of filthy straw. I returned to the mouth of the alley with my prize, and after ensuring my hood was up and my face well hidden, I hunched my shoulders and stumbled unsteadily out onto the street. I began to sing, pausing now and then to pretend to drink as I made my way toward the square and the Holy House. I was less than fifty yards away when two men wearing mail with swords on their hips appeared, exiting from a building to my left. One of them lifted the skirt of his mail coat and untied his pants before pissing against the building’s wall while the other waited, looking annoyed.

The waiting man glanced my way briefly as I stumbled closer, then, looking disinterested, returned his focus to his companion, who was still busily relieving himself. “Are you almost finished?” he grunted impatiently.

“Why, Lect? Do you want to come and hold it for me? Maybe give it a shake or two?”

Lect snorted in irritation. “Just hurry up, you damn fool. Cutter’s waiting for us.”

I stiffened and lifted my head, staring at the men in surprise as I came abreast of them. Cutter?

“What are you looking at, you drunken old goat?” Lect barked at me.

I realized I’d almost given myself away, and I hurriedly held out my free hand, palm out, making sure to make it shake noticeably. “Can you help a poor soul down on his luck, lord?” I asked in a trembling voice. “Anything at all will do.”

“How about

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