“What happened when Flinn looked around the tavern?” Jo asked.
“The innkeeper asked him what he’d have, but Flinn only asked for water,” Braddoc answered. “I knew he must be flat broke then, for it only cost half a copper for a loaf of bread; Flinn obviously didn’t even have that.”
“Then what happened?” Jo asked. She was a little surprised by the dwarf’s suddenly loquacious manner, but she figured Braddoc hoped to distract her from asking any more questions about his own past.
The dwarf laughed. “I said something sarcastic like, ‘That’s a fitting drink for a man’—implying, of course, that Flinn wasn’t much of a man if he could only drink water.” Braddoc chuckled again. He directed Onyx around a large frost boil in the road and continued, “That was all it took. Flinn snapped. He leaped at me, my men leaped between, and they beat each other up. Flinn put up a good fight, but in the end it was him lying on the floor looking up at us.”
“Go on,” urged Jo.
“I looked down at Flinn, this man I’d heard so much about in the last few weeks. I looked at him, and I thought: This man hasn’t got a dishonorable bone in his body. And I held out my hand to him,” Braddoc paused. “He didn’t take it immediately, but I think that’s because his bruises were puffing up and obscuring his vision.”
“He finally took your hand?” Jo asked.
“Aye, he did,” Braddoc nodded. “I helped him up, dusted him off, and apologized for my lot. Then I invited him to have a bit of food with me. We sat down then and there and ate. We were friends from that moment on until the day he died.”
Jo said nothing, and the silence that fell was marred only by the trilling of birds and rhythmic clopping of hooves.
Braddoc mused quietly for a few moments, then said, “Before his disgrace, people followed him around, pestering him to take up their causes. But he understood that. He knew he was their hero, and he knew they looked up to him.” The dwarf shrugged, then shifted in his saddle. “At the same time he was an intensely private man. Sometimes the two sides of his life were difficult to reconcile.”
“Surely the people stopped dogging him after his fall?” Jo asked. She was getting to know a side of Flinn she hadn’t considered before.
“Well, in one way, yes, and in one way no,” Braddoc answered readily. “Trouble is, the hero worship was replaced with a malice and cruelty.”
“Is that why Flinn was so angry the night you met?” Jo asked in sudden inspiration.
Braddoc nodded. “I’m sure of it. This was several months after his dismissal from the order, understand. He’d been drifting, trying to find work, I’m sure. His reception in Rifllian was probably typicaclass="underline" callow and brutish.” Braddoc shifted in the saddle, his short legs obviously wearying of the ride.
The late afternoon sun was beginning to set. They topped the crest of a hill, and Jo spied a cluster of towers rising above the tree line a few little valleys away. They were nearing Castle Kelvin. She and Braddoc would stop there for the night, then make for Rifllian and Brisbois tomorrow morning. She pointed toward the towers and asked, “How long to Kelvin, you think?”
“Two hours, maybe a little more,” Braddoc replied. He frowned at the clouds looming from the south. “We might get some rain before then, though. Onyx seems better; let’s pick up the pace.” The dwarf urged his pony into a canter, and Jo gave Carsig the rein. The big gelding nickered and easily matched the pony’s stride.
The pair traveled in silence for the next hour. The road was smooth, and the animals’ pace was swift, but the clouds proved faster still. It wasn’t long before the once-clear sky turned dark and overcast. Distant rumbles of thunder grew progressively louder and more sustained, and the clouds boiled black with rain. Jo and Braddoc kept to the winding Duke’s Road, catching glimpses of Castle Kelvin through the trees every now and then and hoping to reach it before the clouds let loose.
In time, they rounded another curve of the road. Braddoc pointed at a walled gate not five minutes’ ride away. “Ah, there’s Castle Kelvin now,” the dwarf said eagerly. “They’ve got a fair-sized merchants’ quarters here on the north side. We should be able to find a decent room for the night and a place to stable the animals. Then we’ll get an early start in the morning for Rifllian ”
“I hope Brisbois hasn’t left by the time we get there,” Jo said with an edge of anxiety in her voice.
“Doesn’t matter,” Braddoc replied gruffly, guiding his pony around a large rock in the road. “In the inn room tonight, we’ll use one of the abelaat stones to pinpoint him. Doesn’t matter where he goes, as long as we’ve got stones to spy on him.”
“No,” Jo said quietly. She kept her eyes focused on a spot between Carsig’s ears.
“We can—” Braddoc continued, then abruptly stopped. “What did you say? Did you say no?”
“Yes, I did,” Jo said quietly, still staring at Carsig’s ears despite Braddoc’s intent stare. “I said no. I will not use the crystals to find Brisbois.”
“But why?” the dwarf’s voice cracked an octave. “It makes perfect sense! We locate Brisbois through the crystal and then corner him. We’ll know exactly where to find him, and we can make sure he doesn’t escape!”
“I know,” Jo said even more quietly. She shook her head, her red braid flapping forward. “But I won’t do it.”
“Why?” Braddoc demanded.
Jo glanced into the dwarf’s good eye, then back to the road. “Because Karleah says she may be able to contact Flinn through the abelaat crystals … because I’ve only got a few crystals left.” Jo’s voice rose, and her hands drew Carsig’s rein so tight the gelding was forced to carry his head too high. “Because I want to use every one of those crystals to talk to Flinn—” Jo choked on her words and clenched her teeth. The warm taste of blood reached her tongue, and she realized she’d bitten the insides of her cheeks. She loosened her grip on Carsig and bowed her head.
She could feel the dwarf’s gaze upon her, and she knew Braddoc wanted her to look up at him. Jo ground her teeth. I can’t! I can’t! she thought. As much as I want revenge on those who betrayed and murdered Flinn, I want even more to talk to Flinn’s spirit. Jo knew, without question, that Braddoc’s plan for the crystals was much more sound than her own. Karleah Kunzay had told Jo there would be no guarantees, that the crystals would likely burst if she tried contacting the dead.
“Jo …” Braddoc began, then stopped. He said slowly, “I see we both have things we’d rather not talk about. Let’s leave it at that.”
Long moments passed, and Jo was roused from her misery by a sudden clap of thunder. She looked up. Dark storm clouds filled the sky, wind tossed the trees about them, and fat raindrops began to fall. Jo and Braddoc approached the gate to Castle Kelvin, and Jo felt relieved that they wouldn’t sleep outdoors tonight. I hope we find a stable and an inn soon, she thought. She glanced again at the sky as a white-hot jag of lightning reached down from the cloud and clawed through the forest, filling the air with roaring thunder.
Jo looked over at Braddoc and smiled tentatively. The dwarf looked the other way. “Well,” Jo said in an attempt at levity, “looks like we timed our arrival just right.” She held up her hands as the rain started coming down harder.
The dwarf snorted and refused to look at Jo. “Look for an inn. I’m hungry, and I want a bath.”
The man leaned back in the rough wooden chair and took a draw of the bitter, pungent ale in his mug. He rested one long, lanky leg on the corner of the equally rustic table before him, then crossed his other leg over the first. He surveyed the tips of his badly worn leather boots, the maroon so faded as to be a nondescript brown. The once-silver buckles were tarnished irreparably. He took another draw of ale, then looked about the tavern.