“They do. Though at some point, we will have to stand and fight.” An eerie glow emanated from Hall’s eyes in the predawn light. “Whether on open road or after we reach Tordenet, I cannot yet determine.”
Again he strained without success to match the other man’s hearing.
“You have any guess as to how many of them are coming after us?”
They’d left ten men behind sleeping. Well, nine. The sentry had been awake before they bound and gagged him. The question in Chase’s mind was whether Ulfr would bring the full number after them, abandoning the task his lord and master had sent him to perform, or if he would come with just a contingent of one or two.
It didn’t matter. Not even all ten men combined could keep him from reaching Christiana.
OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-five
MORE.”
The old cook continued slicing meat from the roast, piling it upon the table as Torquil instructed. His stomach growled in ravenous anticipation.
“And the cheese,” he directed. “That’s no enough.”
Not nearly enough. With a desire for food he hadn’t felt for years, he snagged a bite from the pile and slipped it into his mouth.
Everything tasted so wonderful. When had he stopped enjoying this simple pleasure?
“It’s good to see yer appetite returned, Master Torquil.” The old cook flashed a ragged grin. “I’ve a special bit of sweet prepared and set back for later today. Would you like to try some?”
He nodded and gestured for her to bring it, his mouth too filled with the creamy cheese to speak. With each bite he felt more and more himself, his thoughts less chaotic and fragmented.
“Here you go.” The cook placed a sticky bun infront of him. “I think you’ll find it quite enjoyable. Everyone who’s tasted it has agreed.”
As if the vague disquiet hanging over his shoulder had just grown by half, Torquil stopped chewing. Something the old woman just said had annoyed the worry, like someone poking a sharp stick at a trapped animal.
“What did you say?”
“Only that I hope you’ll enjoy it.” She wiped her hands nervously down her apron.
“No. What exact words did you say? Repeat them for me.”
“I...I think you’ll find it to yer liking,” she stumbled, obviously trying to remember. “Everyone what’s had a taste has agreed that I’ve done a fine job on it.”
Not the exact words, but close enough.
“Leave me,” he ordered, and she ran from the kitchen.
“‘Agreed,’” he muttered aloud. “Why does that word rankle at my memory?”
Agreed, agreed, agreed...Surely he’d heard it only a short time ago. A commonly used word. Anyone could have said it....
The minstrel had used the word. He could hear the man’s voice in his memory.
The Tinklers agreed to assist in her escape.
But with whom did they agree? Who at Tordenet would care what happened to the stranger who had attempted his murder?
He rose from the bench to pace, his thoughts swirling.
If not the minstrel himself, there was only one other who would have an interest in saving the woman. The one who had interceded to save her the night she’d come at him with a knife.
Halldor O’Donar.
