Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor Read Online Free PDF Page B

Better safe than sorry, as his dad always said. That left only one item to put on, and Jordan stared at it for a long moment. The chain-mail vest stared blankly back at him. Given the circumstances, the vest was a sensible precaution, but he was still reluctant to put it on, as though by acknowledging the danger he somehow made it real. He shook his head, took off the cloak, and put on the chain-mail vest. It was lighter than it looked, but he could still feel its solid weight tugging at him every time he moved. He pulled on the heavy burgundy cloak again, hiding the vest from sight, but it didn't help.
    Jordan looked round his caravan one last time, and then pushed past the leather flaps and jumped down on to the ground.
    Sir Gawaine was still waiting for him. Jordan stood haughtily before him, and took up his best aristocratic stance. Gawaine bowed formally to him.
    'If you're quite ready, your highness, we should rejoin the others.'
    Jordan nodded stiffly. A chill wind was blowing from the north, and he pulled his cloak about him. 'I trust we won't be travelling far tonight, Gawaine. It's going to be bitter cold on the road once the sun goes down.'
    'I think the sooner we leave Bannerwick behind us, the better, Sire,' said Gawaine. 'We aren't the only ones who have agents out in the Kingdom.'
    Jordan nodded reluctantly. He turned to his horse and found Gawaine had her already saddled and waiting. He swung up on to Smokey's back without saying anything. Gawaine reached up and took hold of the bridle, and led horse and rider back down the deserted main street to where the others were waiting. Their horses were fine thoroughbreds, beside which Smokey in her battered trappings looked very much the poor relation. Jordan patted her neck and muttered a few comforting words as Gawaine moved away to mount his horse. They all looked at each other in silence for a moment, and then Robert Argent
    started off and the others followed him. The hoofbeats sounded loud and distinct on the quiet as the small party left Bannerwick behind them and headed out into the falling dusk.
    The evening was still and silent as they made their way out on to the moor. The sun was sinking below the horizon in a mass of bloodstained clouds. Sir Gawaine lit a lantern and hung it from his saddle horn, so that the small party moved in its own pool of amber light. A cold wind gusted across the open moorland, ruffling the tall heather with a heavy hand, so that it rose and fell like the slow swell of a purple
    sea. The thick smoky scent of the heather made a pleasant contrast to the open-sewered stench of the milltown, and Jordan began to relax a little. He'd always liked travelling by night, and the lonely moors held no horrors for him. Bandits and wolves tended to prefer the forests, and he was too old to believe in ghosts. Besides, away from the stage he liked his solitude. It gave him time to think, to be himself rather than one of the many masks he wore for other people, on and off stage. The moors had their own stark beauty, for those with eyes to see it, and yet for once their open grandeur hadn't enough power to soothe his soul.
    It was all very well playing brave warriors and noble heroes on the stage, but he was well aware that out in the real world he had none of the qualities necessary to bring off such a role. He was an actor, not a fighter, and he was perfectly happy to leave it that way. In his experience, heroes tended to lead short and dangerous lives, and usually came to a nasty end. Standing up to be counted just made you an easier target to hit. And yet here he was, heading into an arena more perilous than any battlefield: a Court torn by intrigue. Jordan decided he wasn't going to think about it any more, for the time being. It just made his stomach ache. He glanced surreptitiously at Sir Gawaine, riding close beside him. He wasn't sure whether the knight's presence made him feel more secure or more threatened.
    'Roderik,' said Jordan