‘Stop!’ Gwen barked beside her, and the crowd immediately went silent. Isobelle shot her a grateful look, and Gwen inclined her head to indicate that Isobelle should try again.
This time, Isobelle pointed at a woman in the front row, who was twisting her apron in her hands. ‘Is his lordship really a murderous necromancer?’ the woman demanded.
Isobelle blinked, resisting the urge to twist around and look for Rosamund, whose eavesdropping abilities she had clearly underestimated.
Another voice rose from near the back of the crowd – it was Henry, who’d captained the boat when Gwen had slain the sea monster for the first time, his eyes wide and anxious. ‘Is the beast back? Has he raised it from the dead?’
And the crowd exploded again.
‘Can his lordship really be …?’
‘Came from elsewhere, didn’t he, and …’
‘… heard it can walk on those tentacles and come clear up onto shore to destroy our very homes!’
‘… going on up at that tower, and the sorceress’ll be back soon enough, and …’
‘… we ain’t had any beasties rising from the dead before this so-called Lady Dragonslayer showed up!’
Thatshook Isobelle out of her paralysis. When necessary, she was capable of raising her voice to a pitch and volume that was extremely difficult to ignore. She did so now, and after a few moments, she was the only one still speaking.
‘Fear not,’ she said firmly. ‘The Lady Dragonslayer has dealt with worse than this. Sir Gwen faced down a dragon single-handedly, when not a knight in Darkhaven was willing to ride out to her aid. She has slain the sea monster once, and she will do so again. In fact, shemustdo so again!’
‘It’ll murder us all if she doesn’t!’ cried a voice.
Isobelle pressed on. ‘Nobody is being murdered,’ she said firmly. ‘Except, of course, the sea monster. We have learned that the necromancer is weakened with each use of his powers. Sir Gwen will slay the monster, and if he raises it again, she will slay it again, draining the necromancer until he is ripe for defeat. Good people of Galanty-Uponne-the-Sea, you have a hero in your midst. You need have no fear.’
The energy of the crowd had shifted slightly as she spoke, and though Isobelle knew they were one good scare away from fresh panic, they weren’t willing to protest anymore for now. A cold, serpentine unease stirred inside her, but before she could inspect it, Henry spoke up fromthe back. ‘I’ll have theElizabethready to cast off,’ he said. ‘When the beast returns to the harbour, we’ll ring the port bell to summon you.’
Isobelle looked to Gwen, who nodded slowly. ‘I’ll be ready,’ she said simply. And though she wore nothing but a rough shirt and trousers, her hair pulled back into a simple braid, her eyes still shadowed with tiredness, she looked like nothing so much as a hero of legend. Not the kind that danced at balls and dined at feasts, or wore armour that accented her chest and hips. No, she looked like the type that saved the day. The type that raised her sword to protect those who needed it.
Isobelle knew the townsfolk sensed it, too. One by one they went still – placated, at least for now. For the time being they would put their trust in Gwen, though it was clear it wouldn’t hold forever.
Without another word, Gwen turned to head back inside the tavern, and Isobelle followed her, casting a beady eye about for Rosamund, who had not only eavesdropped but gossiped as well. Isobelle was fully prepared to admit the necessity of both on occasion, but the innkeeper had chosen a cursed inconvenient time to play this particular game.
Sylvie, Jane, Hilde and Orson were waiting for them, gathered around a table in a quiet conversation that broke off when Gwen and Isobelle arrived.
‘What time is it?’ Gwen asked, scrubbing at her face.
‘After lunch,’ said Hilde, rising to her feet. ‘I will ask Rosamund to find us some.’
‘Least she can do,’ Orson muttered, as she disappeared.
Sylvie was quiet, drumming her fingers on the tabletop as Gwen and Isobelle took their seats with the others. ‘So this is our plan?’ she said, when the others fell silent. ‘Risk Gwen’s life, fight the sea monster again and again, and hope she wins each time?’
‘It’s the only idea we have,’ Gwen said simply.
Isobelle allowed herself to slump in her chair. ‘If only word hadn’t got around so quickly about Lord Bingleton. I’m not surprised they’re nervous out there. If we’d been thinking, we’d have kept it under wraps.’
Gwen eyed her sidelong. ‘You mean … keep a secret from them?’ she asked a little too blandly. ‘Because you don’t think they can handle the truth?’
The letter.
Isobelle let out a slow breath, searching for the right answer. But before she could speak, a distant clanging noise rang out down by the harbour. A quick flash of panic ran through her – it was the bell Henry had promised. Already? She’d thought they’d have more time, a chance to discuss tactics, to …
Gwen rose to her feet. ‘I’ll get my sword,’ she said quietly. ‘Tell Rosamund to hold lunch.’
22
