Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Gort raised his thick eyebrows.
How did he do that? Did he catch Lute’s sword with his cross guard and pry it free? It was so damn fast.
Reynald let go. Lute fell and cursed.
It was beautiful and so controlled. Reynald never stumbled, he never missed. He owned his battlespace. Everyone else was just a guest in it.
Watching Reynald was dangerous for me. When he took a blade into his hand, he transformed into a different man and that man pulled me like a magnet. It wasn’t just his muscular body and the way he moved; it was the eyes. Cold, calculating eyes. Merciless. Powerful.
I needed to have my head examined.
Seven days until the Butcher displayed his next kill. Thinking about that was like pouring cold water over my head.
“What’s bothering you?” Gort asked. “Is it Drugh?”
“No.”
A messenger from Taryz had come first thing in the morning. One of Drugh’s mercenaries had stopped by asking about the Magnars. Tonight Reynald and I would go to the teahouse and try to settle things.
“Then what is it?” Gort asked.
“The Butcher is good enough to kill Eliarde.”
In the courtyard, Reynald thrust past Will’s swing and stopped the tip of his sword an inch from Will’s throat.
“Reynald knows his limits,” Gort said. “He won’t throw his life away or ours. If he says he can do it, it’s because he’s calculated the odds.”
“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.”
Lute nodded and went to the door.
In the courtyard, Reynald paused, looking at me. Will decided it would be a great chance for a surprise attack and struck. Reynald stepped out of the way without looking. Will’s axe whistled past the blademaster. Reynald kicked the back of Will’s right knee and shoved him forward, his gaze still on me. Will went down. His knee slammed on the ground. He grunted.
“Hey!” Gort growled. “That was a cheap shot, boy!”
Lute jogged back to me from the front door. “He says his name is Earl Berengur.”
Oh.
I jumped to my feet. “Please ask him to wait. Clover!”
She stuck her head out of the kitchen window. “Yes?”
“We have a visitor. Could you please fix my hair?”
She beamed. “Of course, my lady!”
I sat at the table by the wine tree, wearing my green gown, with my hair hastily braided and pinned into something Clover deemed decent. She waited on my left. Reynald assumed the bodyguard position behind me and to my right. He had changed into a dark jerkin, put on a cloak with the hood up, and pulled the lancer’s coif over his face. The menace meter had gone all the way up.
“Do you know Earl Berengur?” he asked quietly.
“Not personally.”
“Do you know why he is here?”
“He’s looking for his brother.”
“How did he find you?” Reynald asked.