We shivered in the wind until he returned, accompanied by the Steward. The man looked us over and said, “Things are not well here. It would have been better if you had sought shelter in town. The Lady Laurice – is not well.”
I felt Wallen stiffen beside me, and saw him try to clench his hand. His fingers were too swollen.
“My Bard-in-training is in a very bad way.” Sharp pointed to frozen blood drops on the ground.
“I doubt he could make it to Krast. If you let us stay, it will be only for a night or two – and we will not bother the Lady Laurice.”
The Steward pulled his face into a long frown. He gazed into Wallen’s pain-filled face, then looked at me. “And the monk?”
Sharp shook his head. “”I can’t speak for a man who refuses to speak for himself. He joined us on the road, when the child first had trouble walking, and has stayed with us ever since. Ask him yourself.”
The Steward peered at me with an intensity that could have penetrated the cloth and shadows of my robe. “How long do you plan to stay, monk?”
I shrugged in my meekest way and gestured to the now bloody rags on Wallen’s feet. As a Silent Monk, my thoughts would be on how I would serve the needy, not how long my journey would take.
“Very well,” the Steward said. “You may stay – but keep out of the way and leave as soon as you can.”
Sharp nodded, and we followed the Steward inside the gatehouse. We had breeched the castle, but the breath of the Dragon was hot upon our backs.
Monday, July 27, 2009
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