The Shattered Vigil by Patrick W. Carr

Author:Patrick W. Carr
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042080. FIC009000;FIC009020
ISBN: 9781441265470
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2016-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 28

A day out of Andred, Mark asked, “Aren’t you worried about King Rymark or Grace Hyldu changing their minds?”

Pellin shook his head. “Not at the moment. The death of the sentinels has frightened the church and the rulers into allowing us our freedom.”

Mark nodded, gave one last longing look toward the south before settling deeper into his saddle. “It won’t last.”

Pellin nodded his agreement. At best, fear was a temporary motivation, but what made Mark think so? “Why do you say that?”

“Living with the urchins, you get scared a lot—scared of not getting enough to eat, scared of not being able to stay warm when the wind comes out of the Cut during the winter, scared of getting caught thieving.” He shook his head. “When something really bad happens, it seems like the world is coming to an end, and it might be, but when it doesn’t happen right away, the fear isn’t as strong.” Mark turned in his saddle to look behind them. “They might change their mind about locking you up to keep you safe.”

“That was well reasoned,” Pellin said. “But for the moment, I no longer need to pit the ambitions of the rulers and the church against each other. Lady Bronwyn is patrolling the border of the forest, and Toria Deel is searching out the truth behind the Clast. Doubtless, they could use our help.” After several days spent recuperating in Andred, he felt more prepared for the task.

“I hope not,” Mark said.

Pellin smiled. “Agreed. Tell me, Mark, what did you think of our meeting with the powers of the north?”

“You’re right—they are scared,” Mark said. “Terrified even—though they did a fair job of keeping it hidden.” A smirk crept up his left cheek. “It’s too bad we don’t have time to remain in Andred for a few weeks. With a bit of preparation I’d be able to use that fear to separate King Rymark and Grace Hyldu from a substantial portion of their treasury.”

Pellin ignored that last remark, finding it easier to do since he’d delved the seemingly playful boy at his side. What drove the Mark in his larcenous endeavors was a rage at the suffering life brought. That passion filling the boy’s mind was so vast that Pellin had emerged from the delve with an entirely new perspective. He’d yet to share his findings with Bronwyn, but the potential within the boy and the failure of the Vigil to keep corruption at bay—losing first Laewan and then Jorgen—left Pellin musing.

The selection criteria for apprentices to the Vigil had always centered around empathy, but most of those they’d chosen had experienced little in the way of personal hardship. Had the Vigil taken the wrong approach all these centuries?

“What will they do?” Pellin asked when it appeared as though Mark took the prolonged silence as an invitation to doze once more.

“For now, exactly as they have said,” Mark answered. Again, he failed to use the honorific of Eldest that everyone else applied to him. Pellin found it refreshing not to be reminded of his responsibility at the end of every sentence.

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