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Back Nottingham
Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. PART II
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. PART III
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. INTERLUDE
  35. PART IV
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. INTERLUDE
  45. PART V
  46. THIRTY-FIVE
  47. THIRTY-SIX
  48. THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. THIRTY-EIGHT
  50. PART VI
  51. THIRTY-NINE
  52. FORTY
  53. FORTY-ONE
  54. FORTY-TWO
  55. FORTY-THREE
  56. FORTY-FOUR
  57. FORTY-FIVE
  58. INTERLUDE
  59. PART VII
  60. FORTY-SIX
  61. FORTY-SEVEN
  62. FORTY-EIGHT
  63. FORTY-NINE
  64. FIFTY
  65. FIFTY-ONE
  66. FIFTY-TWO
  67. PART VIII
  68. FIFTY-THREE
  69. FIFTY-FOUR
  70. FIFTY-FIVE
  71. FIFTY-SIX
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  75. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  76. Newsletter Sign-up

ONCE AS A YOUNG recruit, Guy had foolishly lost his company in unfamiliar woods, and then doubled-down on his idiocy by stumbling into a sunken muddy hole. It was only barely deeper than a man stood tall, but it was half-filled with a rank stale water and he rolled his ankle during the fall. Logic insisted it would be easy to climb out—but with every attempt the mud walls sloughed down on him, his ankle would hold less weight, and logic shrugged its shoulders and moved on to the next fool. Guy could neither stand with any comfort nor sit without his head submerging. Eventually panic took him, and it ruled his brain in a way he could later only marvel at. Guy might have spent hours there, always only one solid handgrip away from safety, fighting in the wet and the cold. As time slipped on, so did his mind. He watched the walls pulse and sway. He gazed into the water and felt a sympathetic urge to drown himself. Though he never admitted it to anyone, he heard voices—half whispers and non-words only he could understand.

And the worst part was that none of it seemed unusual. He hadn’t known he was going mad.

His company eventually backtracked to find him, and it only took one man’s hand to hoist him out. As if it were nothing. Only a few feet were all the difference it took for him to limp away and live the rest of his life. But the hole had revealed something to him—the importance of strength, of body and of mind, and the blood-turning ease with which either could be taken from a man. He had needed help then. Jon Bassett needed it now.

“GOOD NEWS, CAPTAIN.”

He awoke to Reginold’s thick red moustache and self-satisfied smile. It took Guy a moment to recognize the room in The Third Pig, and what business it had being in Guy’s life.

“You were right, they came this way.” Reginold smiled with unwarranted energy. Meanwhile, Guy’s muscles were silently protesting everything and petitioned to take the day off. “Got a surprise for you in the common room.”

Barely a minute later Guy lurched into the inn’s musty main chamber, hoping his stiff legs might be mistaken as swagger. They were all met, but the cruel morning sun told Guy he must have only slept for an hour or so. Reginold was still spry on his feet, and might not have slept at all. Guy could have managed the same, but he had used up all his youth some years ago.

A large bald man sat in wait at the largest table, wolfing down something hot the innkeeper had made for breakfast. There was a wooden bowl for each of them.