A Cast of Stones Read Online Free PDF Page A

You’ll stay with us tonight.”
    He shook his head in disagreement. “There’s no reason for him to be looking for me, Pater. I am certain he was trying to make sure you didn’t get your message. You didn’t, although he might not know that. Either way, he knows he’s either failed or succeeded and he won’t be hanging around the gorge anymore.”
    Martin waved Errol’s argument away and exchanged an inscrutable look with Luis. Again, Errol sensed undercurrents in the cabin that eluded his understanding, and the assassin’s arrow lay at the center of it.
    â€œAre you willing to bet your life on that, Errol?” Luis asked. The words were softly spoken, but a hint of steel lay beneath them.
    Errol gave a twitch of his shoulders. “Nobody’s cared about my life for a long time. The assassin’s no different. I’ll leave my pack here. If he’s there, he’ll see I’m empty-handed and leave me alone.”
    Martin turned to face him squarely. “No. You’ll stay here tonight. I won’t chance you getting killed. We’ll lock the cabin. Luis and I will take turns keeping watch.” His shoulders bunched and then eased under his linen. “In the morning, we’ll all go back together. We’ll go north to Berea and take the bridge across the Sprata.”
    Errol drew breath to protest. He wasn’t about to stay in this small, ale-less cabin.
    Martin drew himself up and his eyes glowered. “Don’t make me invoke the authority of the church.”
    Errol laughed. “The church? It holds no authority over me.What has the church ever done for me? Nothing. Pater Antil has put me in the stocks more times than I can count. If he ever puts anyone else in them, they’ll have to ask my permission first.”
    Outside, the pace of the shadows increased. He had to leave soon if he wanted to make it back to the village before he got the sweats. Tremors would follow soon after. The mere thought of them made him want to dry the palms of his hands.
    Martin stepped forward, pulling his vision from the waning sunlight. “If you stay, I’ll make sure Antil never punishes you again.” His voice dipped. “That I promise, Errol.”
    The earnestness in the priest’s voice tempted him, but staying in the cabin meant cramps and pain until he could get to an ale barrel. He rolled his shoulders against the memory of the lash. It would almost be worth it to be free from Antil’s punishments. Almost, but not quite. He turned toward the door. His hand had just closed on the latch when Martin’s voice stopped him.
    â€œI can help you with the shakes as well, if you’ll let me.”
    He turned to see Martin and Luis staring at him, their eyes heavy-lidded with pity—a look he’d seen from friends and strangers a thousand times. Now it made him angry. “What would a priest know about the shakes?”
    Martin laughed and shook his head. “Boy, I haven’t lived in this cabin my whole life. Do you know how many postulates come to the church just to break the shackles that chain them to their wineskins?”
    Errol shook his head. “No, and I don’t care. I’ll stay if you promise to get me through tonight.”
    That earned him another nod but no comment.
    Martin turned toward his servant. “Luis, I think it would be best if we ate early. Can you prepare a quick supper?”
    Luis nodded. “We’ve got some soup left and a bit of the rabbits we roasted last night.” At a nod from Martin, he turned toward the cupboard.
    â€œErrol, our bowls are in that cupboard. Would you get them, please?”
    Floorboards complained as he crossed the cabin. When he opened the cupboard doors, Errol gasped, the bowls forgotten. Inside the cupboard, posed in miniature, stood a collection of animal figurines, each one sculpted in astonishing detail. He reached in, withdrew the figure