The Secret Slipper by Amanda Tero

Author:Amanda Tero [Tero, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942931232
Published: 2017-05-25T04:00:00+00:00

Abtshire

Not a word passed between Jolin and Raoul as they galloped down the road. The hoof beats of his hired horse seemed to chant, “Pray… Pray… Pray!”

I tried. Raoul’s hands were clammy where they gripped the reins. God, I have sought Thee. Hadn’t he? He silenced his conscience. His prayers had throbbed with, “Let me find her,” or other demands. That was prayer, was it not?

The silhouette of Abtshire rose in front of them. Jolin pulled his horse to a stop behind Raoul.

“Why are you stopping?” Raoul reined in even as he asked.

“What is our plan, m’lord?”

“Discover where Bioti is hiding.”

Jolin sniffed. “No one will open their doors to a stranger at midnight, unless he has an order from the king.”

Raoul shook his head. He wasn’t going to beg interference of his brother. “No sense in turning back tonight.” He heeled his horse to a walk.

“Mayhap. But you need a plan.”

Raoul let out a frustrated sigh. Pray. Really pray. That was what Elayne would suggest, and rightfully so. God hasn’t given me answers yet; just more questions and problems. Sometimes one needs to find the answers for themselves. God gave us a brain, not only prayer. Why did he fight against the thought of praying yet again?

Before he could figure out the answer, they were entering the streets of Abtshire. Jolin stopped his horse in front of a cottage. The windows were dark, like the rest of the cottages on the road. Raoul dismounted and walked to the door.

“I think it unwise, Raoul.”

Raoul gritted his teeth. “When did I give permission to use my given name?”

“It hasn’t bothered you before. I beg pardon, m’lord.” His apology sounded insincere.

Raoul clenched his fists, but shoved them into his pockets rather than knock on the door. He turned as the watchman approached.

“May I help you?” the watchman asked.

“Aye,” Jolin said. “We would like a room for the night.”

“The Lyre Inn is on the other side of town. You must be strangers in Abtshire.”

“Aye,” Raoul said. The man needed no explanation.

“One last thing,” Jolin said as the watchman turned. “Know you of a woman named Bioti?”

Raoul could have pummeled Jolin. The man kept his own rules, forbidding his lord to do one thing, and then taking his own initiative in another.

“She’s not here.”

Not here? Did that mean…

“But she was here?” Raoul asked, keeping eagerness from lacing his voice.

“Aye.”

“You are certain?”

“M’lord, surely there is more than one Bioti,” Jolin reasoned.

Raoul ground his teeth. Confounded man. His words dashed out Raoul’s hope like a bucket of cold water on wee embers just taking spark.

“Tell us of this Bioti,” Raoul said, forcing the words through clenched teeth.

The watchman settled his bobbing lantern and gestured with his hands. “She was about this height, brown hair, harsh face. Well, all of her was harsh, really. She didn’t talk much. Kept to herself.”

The description was close enough. Raoul felt hope rise again.

“She up and left. Probably fleeing the sheriff’s pay, but he’ll catch her. Or whoever stole his cart. He doesn’t let anyone get away from him.

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