talked with one of the stable boys,” the thug said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “The girl’s there, all right, staying in the last room on the left side, by the window. There’s some fancy gent staying there too, but aside from that it’s just the innkeeper and the wench.”
Montrose didn’t turn his head, but continued to gaze out the window. Smoke curled up from his pipe. “What about the trapper?”
The thug shrugged. “He left, earlier today. Hasn’t been back since.”
“He’s gone for help!” Reginald hissed.
“Without the girl?” Montrose grunted. “I doubt it. Besides, where would he go? It’s more than three days ride in any direction to the nearest town.”
Sir Reginald frowned. “So now what?”
“ Now ,” said Montrose slowly, putting his watch back in his pocket, “we wait.”
Chapter 5
Jade was just sliding between the sheets of the bed when the door to her room was violently kicked open. She gave a startled cry and pulled the sheets up.
A man in a dark cloak entered the room, a pistol in one hand. As he moved quickly across the floorboards, Jade recognized the figure.
“Kendril? What--?”
The Ghostwalker made a motion for her to stay silent. He pushed himself up against the side of the window, then glanced outside at the stables and stockyard wall behind the inn. He grunted, then stuck the pistol back in his belt, turning from the window.
“Get dressed,” he said. “Now.”
She stared at him in shock, the bed sheet still pulled up to her neck. She opened her mouth to say something, but never got the chance.
Maklavir appeared at the door, sword in hand. He looked quickly from Kendril to Jade, then back to Kendril, and thrust his blade forward.
“If you try to harm her, you’ll have to go through me first!”
Kendril gave the diplomat a half-amused look, then pointed at Jade. “Be downstairs in two minutes.” He turned to Maklavir, who had a rather dumbfounded expression on his face. “Let’s go,” he said, pushing his way into the hallway. He closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
“ I’ll say,” said Maklavir, struggling to replace the sword in its scabbard. “Just where have you been? And what in the Halls of Pelos were you doing, bursting into that poor girl’s room like that?” He followed Kendril down the staircase into the tavern.
The innkeeper was standing by the bar, listening to the frantic barmaid sputtering on. He looked up as they appeared.
“You!” he said, pointing at Kendril. “I told you I’d ‘ave no trouble in my inn!”
The barmaid retreated a few steps in fear.
The Ghostwalker reached the bottom of the stairs. His eyes swept meticulously over the room.
Maklavir finally managed to replace his sword. “I think you’ve stirred things up here a bit, Kendril. Perhaps—”
He was cut off as Kendril suddenly drew one of his blades. He smashed Maklavir against the wall and pressed the cold steel against his neck. The diplomat struggled to breathe as Kendril pressed him against the wooden surface.
The barmaid screamed, then fled back into the kitchen.
“Tell me right now,” snarled Kendril. “are you with them ? Are you?” Thunder rumbled overhead, louder than before.
The diplomat coughed, his hands held wide in surrender. “My good man,” he said, his voice surprisingly collected, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kendril pressed the razor sharp edge of the blade a millimeter closer. “Look me in the eyes,” he said, “and say that.”
Maklavir stared defiantly at the Ghostwalker. There was a heartbeat of silence before he spoke. “I’m here by myself. I assure you I don’t know who these others are that you’re speaking of. And,” he added, “I think you’re a raving madman. Now kindly remove this sword from my throat before you get blood on my cape.”
The Ghostwalker stared at him for a moment, snorted, and pushed away. He sheathed his short
Montrose didn’t turn his head, but continued to gaze out the window. Smoke curled up from his pipe. “What about the trapper?”
The thug shrugged. “He left, earlier today. Hasn’t been back since.”
“He’s gone for help!” Reginald hissed.
“Without the girl?” Montrose grunted. “I doubt it. Besides, where would he go? It’s more than three days ride in any direction to the nearest town.”
Sir Reginald frowned. “So now what?”
“ Now ,” said Montrose slowly, putting his watch back in his pocket, “we wait.”
Chapter 5
Jade was just sliding between the sheets of the bed when the door to her room was violently kicked open. She gave a startled cry and pulled the sheets up.
A man in a dark cloak entered the room, a pistol in one hand. As he moved quickly across the floorboards, Jade recognized the figure.
“Kendril? What--?”
The Ghostwalker made a motion for her to stay silent. He pushed himself up against the side of the window, then glanced outside at the stables and stockyard wall behind the inn. He grunted, then stuck the pistol back in his belt, turning from the window.
“Get dressed,” he said. “Now.”
She stared at him in shock, the bed sheet still pulled up to her neck. She opened her mouth to say something, but never got the chance.
Maklavir appeared at the door, sword in hand. He looked quickly from Kendril to Jade, then back to Kendril, and thrust his blade forward.
“If you try to harm her, you’ll have to go through me first!”
Kendril gave the diplomat a half-amused look, then pointed at Jade. “Be downstairs in two minutes.” He turned to Maklavir, who had a rather dumbfounded expression on his face. “Let’s go,” he said, pushing his way into the hallway. He closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
“ I’ll say,” said Maklavir, struggling to replace the sword in its scabbard. “Just where have you been? And what in the Halls of Pelos were you doing, bursting into that poor girl’s room like that?” He followed Kendril down the staircase into the tavern.
The innkeeper was standing by the bar, listening to the frantic barmaid sputtering on. He looked up as they appeared.
“You!” he said, pointing at Kendril. “I told you I’d ‘ave no trouble in my inn!”
The barmaid retreated a few steps in fear.
The Ghostwalker reached the bottom of the stairs. His eyes swept meticulously over the room.
Maklavir finally managed to replace his sword. “I think you’ve stirred things up here a bit, Kendril. Perhaps—”
He was cut off as Kendril suddenly drew one of his blades. He smashed Maklavir against the wall and pressed the cold steel against his neck. The diplomat struggled to breathe as Kendril pressed him against the wooden surface.
The barmaid screamed, then fled back into the kitchen.
“Tell me right now,” snarled Kendril. “are you with them ? Are you?” Thunder rumbled overhead, louder than before.
The diplomat coughed, his hands held wide in surrender. “My good man,” he said, his voice surprisingly collected, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Kendril pressed the razor sharp edge of the blade a millimeter closer. “Look me in the eyes,” he said, “and say that.”
Maklavir stared defiantly at the Ghostwalker. There was a heartbeat of silence before he spoke. “I’m here by myself. I assure you I don’t know who these others are that you’re speaking of. And,” he added, “I think you’re a raving madman. Now kindly remove this sword from my throat before you get blood on my cape.”
The Ghostwalker stared at him for a moment, snorted, and pushed away. He sheathed his short
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