Captives of the Curse by Deborah Grace White

Author:Deborah Grace White [White, Deborah Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781925898224
Publisher: Luminant Publications
Published: 2020-04-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

It was difficult to tell when the sun had properly risen, the heavy sheets of rain preventing the darkness from fully lifting. Jonan had not lain down, but he had rumpled the covers to make it look as though the bed had been occupied, and had cleaned himself up in an attempt to conceal the night’s adventures. He wasn’t sure how much good it would do, as he had no clothes that could hide how much the log’s rough bark had shredded his arms. There was also no way he could fully dry himself, but since it was still pouring, that would cease to be suspicious almost the moment he stepped outside the building.

As soon as he thought the dawn was advanced enough for his movements not to raise questions, he let himself out onto the street. The memory of Raldo’s calm voice in his ear as the older man had sacrificed himself without hesitation burned in Jo’s mind, and he could find no rest until the question of his friend’s fate had been answered.

He stepped onto the rain-drenched flagstones, not bothering to locate the soldier set to watch him today. He had no idea whether he had passed through the fracas in the slave camp unrecognized. It was very possible that at any moment Lord Wrendal’s men would descend on him, and if that was the case he wanted to make full use of every minute of freedom left to him.

He thought of heading toward Lord Wrendal’s manor, to see if Scarlett or Bonnie had been able to discover anything. But he was fairly certain Scarlett’s connection with the rebels had not been exposed, and if his had, then any communication between them could be disastrous for her. And in any event, Jo could still picture Lord Wrendal’s face as he dismounted next to the river such a short time ago. The image was enough to convince him that Lord Wrendal would be a good man to avoid this morning as far as humanly possible.

Jo moved instead in the opposite direction, toward the castle. As soon as he entered the courtyard, he could tell that his instinct had not failed him. This gathering point was the natural center of any drama unfolding within Nohl. He could hardly see the castle itself through the downpour of rain, and the sound of the hammering water all but drowned out the excited chatter of the growing crowd. But somehow neither sight nor sound was necessary to convey the tremor of activity passing through the space. It was evident that news of the events at the logging camp had begun to spread.

Jo saw a huddle of locals standing nearby, and approached them unthinkingly.

“What’s going on?”

They turned astonished and disapproving glares on him, angling their bodies away as they continued to gossip. He turned away with a frustrated growl, losing patience with their prejudice.

He cast around until he saw a group of his own countrymen nearby, and hurried over to join them instead. Their faces were tense and anxious.

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