Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
She studied him, seeing not only the Hunter, but the wisdom behind his hunts. “Then they may know more than they wish to admit.”
“Aye,” he said. “And we have given them reason to worry.”
The door creaked open.
Conversation in the room stilled at once.
A man stepped inside, middle-aged, broad through the shoulders, his cap clutched tight in his hands. He hesitated just inside the threshold, eyes darting to Dar’s men, then to Elara, then back again.
Dar did not move. He did not speak.
Silence did the work for him.
The man swallowed and took a few cautious steps forward. “You wish information about a wanderer.”
Dar inclined his head, just once. “I am listening.”
The man shifted his weight, cap twisting in his hands. “A wanderer came through Ancrum a few nights past. Short. Thick through the middle. Kept his hood up even indoors.” He hesitated, then added, “What struck me as odd was how quiet he was.”
Dar’s brow creased slightly.
“Wanderers are usually ready to spew a tale at the drop of a coin,” the man continued. “This one kept to himself. Drank his ale. Ate his bread. Said little, then moved on.”
“Which way did he go?” Dar asked.
The man shook his head. “I don’t know. He left before nightfall. I wasn’t watching for him.”
Dar studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “It is good you share this with me. You may go.”
Relief crossed the man’s face, and he wasted no time leaving.
For a stretch, no one stepped forward.
Then a young fellow lingered in the doorway as if uncertain he should enter at all. He kept his eyes lowered, his cheeks flushed, but he crossed the room when Dar’s gaze found him.
“You have something to say,” Dar stated.
The young man’s hands trembled. “A stranger came through days ago. Not a wanderer.” He rushed the words out, as if once they were spoken, they could not be taken back. “He asked about old paths.”
Dar’s expression did not change. “Old paths to where?”
The young man’s throat bobbed. “To Driochmor.”
Elara felt the room tighten at the name.
“He didn’t ask it openly,” the young man added quickly. “Not at first. He spoke like a man merely curious—like he was unfamiliar with the area and wanted to make sure he avoided the paths to the forbidden land.”
Dar’s voice stayed level. “What did he look like?”
“Taller than me. Wrapped in a dark cloak. His face… I didn’t see it well, his hood concealing much of it.” The young man frowned hard, trying to think of more. “His hands were lean and had a good grip on his tankard. It made me think he had strength to him.”
“You observe well,” Dar praised. “Which direction did he take when he left?”
The young man appeared pleased by the praise and was quick to offer more. “South. Toward the bend where the road forks. Away from the paths to the forbidden land.”
Dar nodded once. “You’ve done well. You may go.”
The young man bobbed his head, a slight smile surfacing as he hurried off.
A moment later, another villager stepped forward—older, broader through the shoulders, his stance cautious.
“I saw the wanderer the following morning,” he said. “He was on the road headed east.”
Dar’s eyes sharpened. “East toward where?”
“Toward Chieftain Pratus’s castle.”
A ripple of unease stirred through the room.
“He walked with purpose. Like he knew exactly where he was bound… straight for the castle.”
Dar absorbed that in silence and dismissed the man with a wave of his hand.
The man inclined his head and left, pulling the door shut behind him.
Dar, Elara, and his men were the only ones who remained, one Hunter still stationed by the door. No one had been allowed to enter without permission from Dar. No one had been allowed to linger to hear what was being said.
Dar leaned back slightly, fingers resting on the table. “A quiet wanderer who avoids company and makes his way toward Pratus’s castle. And a stranger asking after paths to Driochmor.” His gaze lifted to Elara. “Yet we have heard no talk of fae folk.”
Before she could answer, the door creaked open.
Vanessa stood there, her shawl drawn close, her lined face pale but resolved.
Elara leaned toward Dar. “That is Vanessa—the woman I spoke with earlier.”
Dar’s gaze shifted to the woman, assessing her.
Vanessa closed the door carefully behind her and, with a nod from Dar for her to approach, walked slowly to stop before the table.
“I did not wish to speak before the others,” she said quietly. “Some things are better left unsaid in a crowd.”
Dar’s voice was even. “Then say them now.”
Vanessa’s eyes flicked briefly to Elara, then returned to Dar. “You asked about wanderers and strangers. But that is not what troubles Ancrum most.”
“Tell me,” Dar ordered firmly.
“There are things moving in the woods again,” Vanessa said. “Things that have not shown themselves in a long while.” She drew a breath and folded her hands together, steadying herself. “I would not have spoken, not even now… if not for her.” She nodded toward Elara.