Scenes from an Unholy War Read Online Free PDF Page A

half open. It wouldn’t do for him to focus on the Hunter. “It’s possible that scene at the stables was another attempt against you. Until we can make a complete inquiry, I need you to stay here. Fortunately, we already have accommodations.”
    “If you need to know the circumstances, I can tell you them now.”
    “No, we couldn’t have that. According to the doctor, you need ten days’ rest, with no talking.”
    “That doctor’s a quack.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s quite reputable, and better than a hick village like this deserves. We have complete faith in him. Just relax and get better, now.”
    “Hey . . .”
    “Sorry, but we’ll hold on to your weapon. You’re a key player in this.”
    “A key player isn’t the same as a prime suspect. There’s no need to disarm me,” D protested, not without reason.
    “This town has a special ordinance about that. Enacted quite recently, actually.”
    “Just when are we talking about?”
    “This afternoon. It was approved by a village assembly.”
    “Who proposed it, you?”
    “Yes, me—and the mayor.”
    “Give me back my weapon. I’ll be leaving right away.”
    As D tried to get out of the creaking bed, darkness enveloped him. It was the combined aftereffects of the sunlight syndrome and the venom from the mutated bats.
    As D managed to lie down again, Rust gave him a troubled look, saying, “Now, don’t be that way. At any rate, get some rest. The questioning will wait till later.”
    And with that, the sheriff locked the door and left.
    Though he was in a tidy little room, apparently it was also used as a cell, and it had iron bars across the windows.
    “This is a fine mess, eh?” said the hoarse voice. Despite the topic of conversation, it sounded quite buoyant. “Seems like they’re hell bent on having you as a deputy. If they wanted to, they could even use drugs. That sheriff’s a real piece of work.”
    “How soon can I move?”
    “My gut feeling is the doctor’s prognosis was on the money. Not for ten days.”
    “Do it in three.”
    “Hmph! You always want miracles. Make it five. Any less, and the aftereffects will be with you for a long time.”
    Nothing from D.
    “You’ll just have to be patient. Wouldn’t you be better off playing along with them instead of being sick for ages?”
    “Probably.”
    “Okay, then the rest is just a matter of negotiations. Leave that to me. I’ll make us enough to cover travel expenses for a year. You keep out of it.”
    “I’ll leave it to you.”
    “Good. Hey, Sheriff! I wanna talk to you. Get in here!” the hoarse voice cried, its tone on par with the blast of an explosion.
    Beyond the window, a woman’s scream rang out. It appeared that his room faced the road. A short time later, the door was jerked open.
    “What’s this?” said the hoarse voice.
    The crimson cape seemed to dye the entire figure red.
    “The sheriff’s gone out on patrol. What do you want?”
    “Well, he certainly gets around,” D murmured softly.
    “I’ve decided to take you folks up on your offer,” the hoarse voice said in a magnanimous tone. “First, let me tell you my conditions.”
    “Where’s that voice coming from?” Lyra inquired coolly.
    “What do you mean? From my throat, of course,” the left hand said, pointing toward D’s mouth.
    Lyra’s look was one of utter suspicion. “There’s something odd about all this.”
    “Wh—what’s that supposed to mean?” the hoarse voice sputtered.
    “What’s it pay?” D asked.
    Lyra stood bolt upright. Blinking, she replied, “Oh, that’d be the same as my pay. Eighty dalas a month.”
    Snorting with laughter, the hoarse voice said, “You must be freaking kidding me! You’re looking at a guy who can pull down a million or two in bounty in one day. Who’d work for that pittance?”
    “A sheriff only makes fifty dalas. This is an extremely generous offer.”
    “Okay, good enough,” said the hoarse voice.
    D furrowed his brow ever so