“Look at him, standin’ there like he owns the place!”
“Murderer! Just like his faither!”
The shouts tangled together in a frenzy. William’s jaw tightened as he took it all in, his gaze sweeping across the tavern.
These were not empty insults thrown by drunk men. There was a deeply ingrained belief behind them. Nonetheless, that didn’t change the fact that his father’s name was being dragged through the mud.
What have they been told?
He saw it now. Whatever they had been told, they must have been twisted stories that had spread for years. Fed to the villagers by someone interested in keeping the truth buried. Someone who wanted to paint his father as a monster.
Anger flared within him at the thought. His hand curled slowly at his side. If he drew his blade now, he could silence them in moments.
The thought was tempting. Yet he knew that would only turn the rumors into reality. And he would lose everything.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Myles beat him to it.
“We need to go,” he urged. “Now. They arenae friendly, and this will turn ugly fast.”
William hesitated because of the anger roaring hot in his chest. But he knew he had to be rational.
Someone did this. And I will find them.
Myles stepped closer, brushing his hand against William’s arm. Reluctantly, William gave a sharp nod.
They turned and retreated fast. A mug flew, shattering against the wall beside them. Another voice screamed something foul, but they were already gone.
A couple of hours later, the sky had turned black.
William stood near the narrow window of a small tavern. It was far quieter than the last place they had been forced to flee.
The sky threatened rain, and the soft wind rustled the branches. Inside, the air was not unpleasant, just tired. Smoke and damp wool. Fire crackled low in the grate, casting shadows across the wooden floor.
He watched the street through the glass, and his reflection watched him in return, mirroring the intensity in his gaze.
I should have come earlier.
The words echoed in his mind over and over.
He should have come when his uncle was still alive. Before his uncle could spread the rumors. Before his father’s name had been dragged through the dirt by men who had benefited from his death.
If only I had moved faster.
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
William straightened without turning. He already knew who it was.
Myles came to a stop beside him, brushing a few raindrops from his cloak. “I’ve found us a place to stay the night,” he said quietly. “Just up the road. The owner is willing to rent a room. Nay questions.”
William nodded once. “Good.”
Myles studied him for a moment longer than necessary. “Ye look like ye’re about to break something.”
William exhaled through his nose, the sound ironically affirming his friend’s words. “I’m fine.”
Myles shrugged. “Aye,” he replied lightly. “That’s usually how it starts.” He tilted his head toward the bar. “Care for a drink?”
William hesitated. He didn’t want to keep using strong drink to avoid thinking about his problems.
