Chapters (76)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- PART III
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- INTERLUDE
- PART IV
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- INTERLUDE
- PART V
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART VI
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- INTERLUDE
- PART VII
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- PART VIII
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
“I’ve known Gilbert for years, and he’s more than a glove, he’s more than a spear lurking out at the edge of camp. Just because he doesn’t talk to anyone, you all assume he’s some sort of madman who can’t be trusted. You trust this man,” she pointed her finger as Bassett, “because he has a handsome face with a big friendly smile, even though he was trying to kill us five days ago. But not Gilbert. Gilbert has a creepy hand and an ugly face, so he must be some sort of monster.”
Marion looked genuinely hurt. “Elena, I didn’t … I’m sorry. Gilbert can take him, it doesn’t matter.”
Elena shook it off.
Perfect.
AT THE FIRST SIGN of the half-moon in the black night, they took Jon Bassett to the edge of the glen. The fading murmurs of the camp clung to the edge of hearing, the fires eclipsed by the thickening trees.
“Put this on.” She handed a roughspun tunic to their guest. “We can’t be seen escorting a Guardsman as a prisoner, now can we? And you’ll wear a hood until you make it to the road.”
Shortly thereafter Gilbert joined them, holding the reins to his horse gingerly with his gloved hand. Elena helped the gord up, but then climbed behind him and pulled the hood over his head.
“Answer him honestly,” she whispered in his ear, “or I can’t protect you.”
“What?” Bassett asked, jerking fruitlessly, but she slipped down and motioned for Gilbert to do his part.
“What are you going to tell your captain?” Gilbert asked. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was not with the gravel one expected from a man of his curiosity. His voice was clean and smooth, like a songbird, or wind through the reeds.
“What do you mean?” Bassett asked in a panicked breath.
“About us,” Gilbert drew close on his horse. “What will you tell them about what you’ve seen?”
“I’ll tell them the truth,” came the voice under the hood, hurried and uncertain. “I’ll tell them you’re not a threat, that it’s a waste of our time to worry about you. I’ll tell them you’re just trying to take care of your own. That you’re just like us.” His voice petered out, empty.