The Gorgon Read Online Free PDF

will vacate my presence."
    Snorting, Tate took a step back
but did not depart as ordered. "Come now, Bose,” he clucked softly. “If
you wish me to find out something about the woman, then all you need do is ask.
There is no one better at discerning information than I."
    A ticking jaw was now joined by
grinding teeth as Bose moved along the tent, inspecting the tarp as Tate lingered
several feet away.
    "There is nothing more I
wish to know," he said as steadily as he could manage. “Go and see to my
charger. And send Artur to me when he is finished."
    Corners of his mouth still
twitching faintly, Tate did as he was told. He knew that Bose's patience was
not limitless. Any more lingering on the part of the young knight and he would
surely find himself bruised. But he knew, even as he moved away from the black
and white tent, that he would seek Bose's answers even if the man was too stubborn
to ask his assistance.
    Listening to Tate's fading
footfalls, Bose knew all too well that the young knight would seek answers to
his master's query. He would have been a fool to believe otherwise, and a part
of him was glad for the inquisitive nature of Tate Farnum. But another part of
him was embarrassed for wanting to know about Lady Summer at all.
    With a grunt of frustration, Bose
began to unpack several of the satchels lining the tent. A small cherrywood
table emerged from a large box, as did two collapsible chairs. The more he
worked, the clearer his mind became as thoughts of his lovely acquaintance
faded from focus and soon he was joined by three male servants who had been
procuring food for the nooning meal.
     The smell of roast beef was enough
to make him forget his troubles entirely as he delved into a trencher of the
succulent meat. As the servants unpacked the remainder of the boxes, Bose
devoured a huge plate of beef and carrots. He had barely finished mopping up
the gravy with a thick slab of bread when the tent flap was abruptly ruffled by
a familiar figure.
    "I see you waited for
me," came the droll salutation. "Good Lord, man, you ate everything
but the table."
    Bose nodded, his mouth full.
"And that is in jeopardy as well."
    The familiar knight chuckled
softly as he entered the tent, depositing a satchel of personal items against
the wall.  As the man fumbled about in the leather sack, Bose wiped his mouth
against a linen square and eyed his crouched companion.
    "He's in there, somewhere. I
put him in there myself."
    The knight nodded, almost
irritably. "Good Lord, that rat has nested in here. I'll never get him
out."
    Swallowing the last of his meal,
Bose quaffed deeply from his wooden cup. "Antony is not a rat. He
is a ferret. And far more valuable to me that you are, my aged friend."
    The knight shook his head;
although Bose had meant the words in jest, they were true. Nothing meant more
to the man than his dead wife's spoiled little pet. The small beast was the
sole focus of his liege's guarded affection, having kept the fuzzy creature
close to his heart since the day of Lora's passing. Certainly, the warrior
could hardly fault his lord the lone sentimental attachment.
    "His droppings are all over
my bag," the knight moaned, his searching hand finally coming to rest on
the article of search. With a squeak, Antony revealed himself from the warm
hovel of the older warrior's bag and found himself deposited on his master's
lap.
    In a rare flash of gentleness,
Bose stroked the gray and white ferret. "Greetings, my pooping
friend." As the little animal snaked its way up Bose's torso, perching
comfortably on his shoulder, Bose held out a small green apple for the beast's
approval. "Your dinner, Antony. And eat neatly, if you would. I'll not
have apple peel all over my mail."
    Having shaken out his satchel of
animal waste, the older knight once again pushed the satchel against the
shelter wall and made his way to the table. As he drew himself the other
collapsible chair, a servant entered the tarp with a full trencher of