A Warrior's Promise Read Online Free PDF

until he clamped the piece with a set of tongs and submerged it into the water barrel, sending steam and sizzle rising.
    â€œA bit of your time?” Bryce asked, and placed a trinket of worth on the corner of the anvil.
    The man nodded.
    Bryce didn’t inquire as to his name. He didn’t want to know; nor did he want the man to know his. He would rather it not be known he had passed this way. He wanted information, then he’d be gone.
    â€œI hear the king’s soldiers have been seen more frequently in these parts.”
    Again, the smithy nodded.
    â€œMost are wondering why.”
    Another nod.
    Bryce understood the man’s caution, felt it himself, and proceeded slowly. The smithy’s eyes suddenly turned wide enough to burst, and before Bryce could get his hand to his sword and turn, an arrow whooshed past his ear and stuck in the ground behind him.
    He yanked the arrow out of the ground and turned to see Charles strutting toward him, a wide smile on his grime-ridden face.
    Bryce marched toward him with angry steps. “You almost got me in the back.”
    Charles stopped and took a firm stance. “If I wanted the arrow in your back, it would be sticking there now.”
    Bryce halted within an inch of the lad, all but ready to wipe the smile off his face.
    â€œIt would be wise of you to speak with the bowyer before you talk anymore with the smithy,” the lad said, keeping his voice low but his smile wide.
    Bryce grabbed the lad’s arm, his hand circling the whole of it, and hurried him to the side of a cottage out of the way of prying eyes. “The smithy was just about to tell me—”
    â€œWhat the soldiers want inquiring warriors to know.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThe bowyer says the smithy is not to be trusted.”
    â€œAnd how did you come by this information when you were sent to do nothing more than find a bow to purchase?” Bryce asked.
    â€œI asked if he saw an older man, white hair, small stature who had passed this way. He told me to be careful of whom I asked such information, and I simply replied, ‘like the smithy?’ and he nodded.”
    â€œTake me to the bowyer,” Bryce said, releasing the hold he had on the lad with a slight shove, annoyed that the lad had disobeyed his orders yet pleased at what he had discovered. The lad just couldn’t hold his tongue, and while in this instance it had proven beneficial, that might not always be so.
    The bowyer showed his age in his stooped form and generous wrinkles though he was spryer than one would expect from his appearance. And though some of his fingers were gnarled, he worked on the bows with an agility that surprised.
    â€œYou would be wise to watch who you speak to in these parts,” the old man said, continuing to work on a bow. “Too many new faces to my liking and some that call this home but show it no honor.”
    â€œIt’s hard to trust these days,” Bryce said.
    â€œA true Scot knows where his allegiance lies.”
    â€œWith the true king,” Charles chimed in.
    The bowyer nodded. “It’s brave you are to speak up like that lad. And when the true king takes the throne, you’ll know a better life for it.”
    â€œUnless he’s foolhardy enough to get himself killed beforehand,” Bryce said, realizing he felt even more protective of the lad after getting a good feel of his scrawny arm. He simply did not have the strength to defend himself.
    â€œThen he’ll die with honor,” the bowyer said.
    â€œNot before I rescue my da,” Charles said adamantly.
    â€œA good son of Scotland the lad is,” the bowyer said with a tear in his eye. “Defends his da and country.”
    â€œYou have seen a man fitting his da’s description pass this way?” Bryce asked, not wanting to linger too long, especially if the smithy wore eyes and ears for the king.
    â€œDidn’t see him myself, but