It was chilly in the inn. The unexpected guests had arrived before Winston had a chance to light the fire, and yet, Louis was bathed in sweat as he watched the Duke eye his boss.

“It’s a common surname, My Lord,” Winston remarked, sounding as calm as he always did. “There must be Weavers in every village, town, and city in Carthus.”

“Are you sure he isn’t a relation of yours?” Shaun asked. His voice was cold, as was his gaze.

“Not that I’m aware of, My Lord,” Winston replied, unperturbed, “I heard he died in the final battle at the Holy City.”

“That’s the official word,” Shaun paused to snort derisively, “It was also the official word after he killed King Storian, but what happened next? Ten years later, he comes out of the Eastern Sea at the head of a demonic army that carved a path of destruction all the way to the walls of the Holy City.”

“I’m afraid I’m not informed enough to comment on that, My Lord,” Winston said. “All I know is what the criers told us.”

A smile crossed Shaun’s lips, “I was there, you know. At the gates of the Holy City during the final battle. I was also there in the Circleof Ascension…”

Winston’s shoulders shuddered briefly as Shaun bored his eyes into him. At length the Duke shook his head and turned his attention back to the glass in his hand. He moved over to a window and held it up in the sunlight and studied its colour.

“Exquisite.”

Louis’ heart was racing as he watched the Duke, wondering what he would do next. The boy had heard of the Great Enemy and his rampage across Hulva and the Central Kingdoms. It was inconceivable that he and his mild mannered, big hearted boss could be that person. Absolutely impossible. That aside, what would he do if his boss was taken away in irons like a common criminal? No, he couldn’t allow that. The town wouldn’t either. He had to alert them.

“Shall I decant the rest of the bottle for you?” Winston offered, breaking his silence.

Louis took another sip of wine and let off a contented sigh. “Yes, please.”

“Are you or your men hungry, My Lord?” Winston enquired as he poured the rest of the bottle into a crystal decanter and set it on the bar top. “I’m afraid all we have is gruel and left over roast beef.”

“And I’m afraid we are going to be your only customers until we leave,” Shaun said as he looked out the window. His smile was warm now, and the sudden change confused Louis. “Half the town must be watching us from across the road.”

Hearing that made Louis feel a little better. Of course they would rush out if anyone were to come for Winston. He was one of the pillars of the town! They couldn’t let anything happen to him.

“They’ve just never seen such a distinguished person before,” Winston smiled, “The Lord Governor of Hulva himself in this humble town!”

“I think the Kingslayer is one of the realm’s greatest heroes,” Shaun announced abruptly, “There are those among us who still know the truth.”

Louis’ jaw dropped in shock. The Timothy Weaver, the Kingslayer, was reviled as one of the kingdom’s greatest villains. Was the Duke actually one of his sympathisers? Wouldn’t that make him an enemy of the kingdom? And what did that have to do with his boss?

Winston looked at the floor, looking almost consumed with grief, but he quickly regained his composure, “That’s quite the controversial statement, My Lord.”

“It is the truth,” Shaun insisted before taking another sip from his glass. “Yes, making this trip was well worth the effort.”

“Well, I’m not sure why you’d say that to me,” Winston remarked, “But I will keep your views secret. They could get you into a lot of trouble if they were made public.”

Shaun tipped his glass in Winston’s direction and grinned. “I appreciate your discretion.”

“I assure you that neither I nor my apprentice will not whisper a word of what’s been said here,” Winston called out loudly, causing Louis to retreat further into the kitchen.

There was a short pause outside. Then, the Duke roared. “Boy! Fetch me a bowl of gruel!”

Louis rushed out with a full bowl of gruel on a tray and stumbled in his haste, spilling a little. “I’m so sorry, My Lord!” he cried, enraged at himself for his clumsiness.

He began to turn back so that he could bring out a fresh bowl when the Duke, who was now seated at a table close to the bar, barked, “Never mind, just bring me that one.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Louis placed the bowl in front of the duke who had with as much grace as he could muster. As he drew his hand back, the Duke grabbed it. His grip was like a vice. Louis glanced at Winston helplessly, but the bartender was wiping down the bar, not paying him the slightest bit of notice. Louis looked at the Duke. His eyes were hard as they bored into him.

“I suppose you heard our entire conversation, didn’t you?” the Duke asked.

Louis could feel his legs trembling in fear and nodded, not having the courage to lie.

“If I catch wind that you’ve breathed a word of what you’ve heard here today,” the Duke’s voice dripped with menace, “There won’t be a hole deep enough for you to hide in where I won’t find you.”

It was all Louis could do not to burst into tears as he felt the Duke’s grip around his wrist tighten.

“My Lord, I can vouch for the boy’s discretion,” Winston said from the bar.

“Do you understand me?” Shaun asked, not paying Winston any heed.

Louis nodded and felt a hot tear roll down his cheek.

“Good.” The Duke released his grip on Louis’ wrist and looked down at his food.

“It’s better than it looks,” Winston assured him. His voice then softened. “Louis, why don’t you go to the back and get changed. I’ll clean up out here.”

Louis looked down and was shocked to see that he had wet himself.

“There, now you have leverage against him,” Shaun said with a laugh.

The inn was quiet that evening with the Duke and his men their only guests. The Duke’s presence had intimidated the rest of the town into staying away. It was, however, a very lucrative night for both Winston and Louis. The Duke had bought almost half of the bottles on the top shelf and left the latter with a very generous tip and were ready to leave early the next morning.

“Are you sure you don’t want another drink, My Lord?” Winston asked as one of the guards helped Shaun into his boots.

“No, it’s a long ride, and I am needed in Estos,” Shaun replied.

With his boots on, he stood up and faced Winston. “How has your Happily Ever After been treating you?”

“It has been very fulfilling,” Winston replied. “It’s more than I deserve.”

“Well, you deserve it,” the Duke said with a warm smile. He paused before adding, “I suppose this is the last we’ll see of one another.”

Winston nodded politely and the Duke was gone. Louis emerged from the kitchen almost as soon as the Duke’s guards closed the door behind them. “Mister Weaver, Mister Stockley is here and wishes to speak with you.”

“Has he brought everything I asked for?” Winston ventured as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Yes, I just finished bringing everything down to the cellar,” Louis beamed, feeling much better now that with frightening guests gone, their stocks replenished, and with the coins that were now safely tucked away under his bed.

“Excellent,” Winston remarked.

“Shouldn’t you be going upstairs?” Louis ventured, “He’ll be expecting payment.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Winston replied, with the hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Winston, thank heavens you’re alright,” the diminutive, hunched back man said in a rush. He rushed over from the kitchen table and clasped Winston’s hand tightly, “I feared I’d made a grave mistake when I gave your name to the Duke, but what else was I to do? He’s the Lord Governor of all of Hulva, and I thought he was just irked to have been beaten to the punch… You really got a marvellous price for those two bottles…”

Louis rolled his eyes and shook his head as the merchant from Estos paused for breath before prattling on, “I didn’t expect him to demand to be led to you. I feared for my life when he demanded I bring him to you! And yours! The whole town did! Robert was talking about falling on the Duke and his men if they were to take you away.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Winston said, chuckling softly, “But you had nothing to worry about.”

Carson lowered his voice and looked around as though searching for eavesdroppers. “What did the Duke want with you, anyway?”

“Oh, he just mistook me for someone else,” Winston replied. “That was cleared up the moment he laid eyes on me.”

“Who though?” Carson asked as his eyebrows shot up.

“He didn’t say,” Winston replied.

The hunchback’s shoulders slumped, disappointed that he’d been denied a juicy tidbit of information. “I tell you what, I don’t envy the poor sod he thought you were.”

“He must be quite the rogue,” Winston agreed.

“Well then, I’m sure Louis has told you that everything is in order,” Carson sighed, and gestured at the two small boxes on the kitchen table, “Your liquors are there, if you wish to inspect them. But I must ask you to prepare payment quickly. If I hurry, I might still be able to catch up with the Duke’s entourage.”

“I thought you were avoiding them,” Louis remarked dryly.

“I was,” Carson snapped, “But I want to keep him and his armed guards within sight if I’m going to go down the mountain carrying seven pounds of gold.”

“About that,” Winston said as he produced a slip of paper from his apron, “The Duke has given me a promissory note as payment for his expenses… I think it will make both our lives easier if I transfer the note to you in as payment for today and for our future dealings.”

Carson looked at the paper and turned as white as a sheet and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. “He owes you that much?” he gasped.

“He took a liking to my collection,” Winston shrugged. “I expect this will make our dealings much easier. You won’t have to worry about going down the mountain weighed down with gold.”

“Are… are you sure you want to entrust me with this much?” Carson stammered, “You won’t be able to spend it all in your lifetime.”

Winston shrugged. “I think I’ll manage. There are a few brandies that I’ve heard good things about… If I don’t, well, that’s to your gain, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed,” Carson nodded, unable to tear his eyes from the note, “I’ll have to come back with a guilder to ratify the transfer…”

“I’m sure Ogden will suffice for that,” Winston replied, “He ought to be in here tonight.”

“It will save you a trip,” Winston pointed out when he saw Carson hesitate.

The merchant looked down at the note and a bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. “Yes…” he said at length, “Yes, that will do nicely.”

“Now, since you’ll be staying the night, may I offer you our finest room?” Winston smiled, “I’m thinking of renaming it the Duke’s Suite.”

Winston looked up to see Louis hauling a sack of potatoes down the cellar. “Leave one of those up here,” he said, “And I’ll go help you bring one of the barrels up. I expect we’ll have quite the busy night.”