“I understand that. And I know Reynald is amazing. I can see him being amazing right now. But nobody knows how good the Butcher is.”
Gort shrugged. “True.”
“There’s a part of Reynald that wants to find that out,” I said.
“Also true,” Gort said.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Gort cut a new length of wire. “You can’t afford doubt in a swordfight. You come to it to win, or you don’t fight at all.”
Lute staggered to us and sat on the ground by the benches. “I’m done. Just done.”
“Weak,” Gort told him.
“You try him, old man. All you do now is tinker and complain.”
“Don’t make me get up off this bench, boy.”
“Maybe you should. Watch out for those knees breaking.”
The doorbell rang. Lute groaned and dragged himself to the front door.
Will parried Reynald’s cut with the haft of his axe.
“Good,” Reynald said.
“About Drugh,” Gort said. “This is a mess of our making. Our family should fix it.”
I didn’t have much in the way of secrets to hit Drugh with, so I had come up with a backup plan. They didn’t need to know about it.
“It will be fine. I’ll take care of it.” Hopefully. “Reynald said he’d help me.”
“We could . . .”
I pitched my voice low and intoned, “‘Reynald knows his limits. If he says he can do it, it’s because he’s calculated the odds.’”
“Aspects preserve us,” Gort muttered. “The boys are bad enough. Don’t you start.”
Lute trotted to us, all fatigue forgotten. “A noble is here to see you.”
What?
“He won’t tell us who he is. He brought a bodyguard with him.”
“Did he ask for me by name?”
“Yes.”
Strange. Did Solentine send someone my way? “Did he say what he wants or who sent him?”
“He wants to ask you a question. He didn’t say anything else.”
If this was coming from the Shears, it was in our best interest to let him in. However, that was highly unlikely. I was still an unknown to Solentine. He wouldn’t recommend me to any clients. And if he wanted information, he would come himself.
No, this visit was a bad idea.
“Please inform him that I’m not receiving visitors. Let’s see what he does.”
