Kit took Elise’s arm. “Thank you, mate.”
Davis slid the coins into his pocket. “You should have left Holbert’s girl alone. He liked her.”
Elise came alive then. “Leave her alone to be sold—?” she started in outrage.
Kit swung her toward him. “I’ll remember your advice for next time, Davis. Can you forget you saw me?”
Davis grunted his response.
The second he and Elise were out the door, she whirled on him. “I thinkyouneed to return to the inn. We don’t wish this Holbert to find you.”
“If Holbert is around, it is too early in the day for him to be up.”
“It is the middle of the afternoon.”
“Way too early,” Kit agreed. “Come, the sooner we find Old John, the sooner we will be done.” He took her hand and started for the old church.
“You never knew where my father lived?” she asked as they walked.
“I never cared.”
Elise was quiet for a moment. “This is a strange village.”
“I did warn you. And it is full of unsavory people. I’m not trying to upset you, Elise, but I fear you will be disappointed.”
“And that my father is truly dead.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth formed a grim line. She walked for a few minutes in silence, then said, “I was so certain when I saw you use that shuffle.” She shook her head. “Now, being here in this place.” She shivered. “It’s uncomfortable.”
“That is one of the nicer things I could say about Moorcock.”
“If we do find my father, we must take him away from here.”
Elise was nothing if not persistent. And loyal. Kit bit back a heavy sigh.
They walked past the church ruins. As they left the village proper, there were several cottages, but no goats.
Some twenty minutes later, they came upon the drive for a small country house. It was not more than fifteen feet off the road with high, overgrown hedges guarding it from view. It was a respectable, albeit somewhat shabby establishment. There was not a bit of grass around it.
Both he and Elise might have walked on bybut Kit heard the bleat of goats. “Elise,” he said, surprised, “we may have found the house.”
She turned, her focus still on the road ahead, and then she heard the goats. She moved to the drive’s entrance and started down it. Kit trailed behind her.
The house was not large, perhaps six rooms at the most, and it had two floors. Kit caught a glimpse of a makeshift barn fashioned out of twigs and saplings off to the side of the home. The bleating was constant and the air smelled of goat, something Kit had never been close to before. However, this was far better quarters than he had imagined Old John living in.
Elise walked right up to the weathered wood door. Kit stayed back a few feet, wanting to be prepared for whatever happened. Elise didn’t seem to notice he was not right behind her. Or perhaps she felt she didn’t need him.
Well, she did—and he was there.
However, before she could lift the darkened brass knocker, the door opened and Old John started out.
He was a tall fellow with broad shoulders stooped with age or from spending time bending over cards and dice. His face was craggy and worn. He had a long, hooked nose and the sharp blue eyes of a seasoned gamester. There was absolutely no resemblance between the man and Elise.
Old John reacted surprised to see someone onhis step. He made an awkward sound and moved back, just as Elise stiffened and then gladly cried, “Papa.” She followed him into the house.
Kit stood a moment, stunned by what had just transpired.Old John truly was her father?It didn’t make sense, but before he could act, the door shut and he was on the outside.
