Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 101336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Aye. I am sure you will since duty calls for nothing less from you,” she said and did not understand why that saddened her.
“I must go to the Gallowglass compound. There is someone there who may have information on who poisoned my father,” Slayer said and stood.
Sky stood as well and rested her hand on his chest. “Will you share with me what you learn? I would very much like to help you solve the mystery of their murders as well as solving my sisters and my dilemma.”
“Perhaps,” was all he would offer her.
“Please do consider it,” she said as her hand fell away from his chest.
“Do not go wandering in the forest while I am gone. Stay close to the cottage, though you may go to the stream. The men guard that area well.” He went to his horse and began to saddle him. “I do not know how long I will be gone.”
“I will keep busy with cleaning out the garden so the new sprouts can grow.”
At least the task would keep her occupied, though he did not want to tell her that she wouldn’t be there to harvest the plants. They would be long gone from here before then.
“We will talk more when I return,” he said and mounted his stallion.
“I look forward to it,” she said and realized the truth of her own words and hoped it was a good beginning to their growing friendship.
He felt the same, but he did not tell her. He rode off not glancing back at her but wanting to and that annoyed him.
CHAPTER 8
Slayer sat at one of the tables in the longhouse staring at Rory, a short, wiry man who had no trouble providing answers to his many questions. He talked without being threatened, beaten, or prodded. The problem was Slayer didn’t know if it was truth or tales that the man spoke. He glanced at Angus and John, who stood behind Rory, and one shrugged and the other shook his head.
Angus had told Slayer upon his arrival that they barely laid a hand on Rory, and that he talked and talked, not only answering their questions but providing them with information they never asked. The problem continued to be whether the information Rory was telling them was the truth or nothing more than a tall tale.
“He was an old man, old, lots of gray hair and endless wrinkles,” Rory said, repeating the description of the man he heard talking about poisoning Lord Bannaty for the third time, and he shook his head. “But he was spry, able to get around good. I tell you the truth, my lord. I would not lie to you.”
“Yet you add something to what you tell me each time you repeat it,” Slayer said and saw that Angus and John nodded, agreeing with him.
“Because I recall something and I want to make certain I tell you it all correctly,” Rory insisted, eyeing the jug of ale on the table. “I probably would recall more if I was not so parched, my lord.”
“Or would your information become that more elaborate after having some ale?” Slayer asked, then downed the remaining ale in his tankard and refilled it from the jug on the table.
Rory licked his lips. “Nay, my lord, I tell you the truth. I swear to you that I tell you the truth.”
“So, this man who you heard talk about poisoning my father is old with wrinkles yet spry,” Slayer said, trying to find some consistency in the man’s words that might prove to be lies since he found through years of questioning prisoners that lies were often elaborated on whereas the truth was told more simply.
“Aye, old he is, very old, but gets around good, though slow so no one pays him much heed,” Rory said. “He was gleeful about his part in the poisoning and boasted how easy it had been to accomplish the deed without ever meeting Lord Bannaty or stepping foot past the castle wall.”
Slayer sat forward on the bench and glared at Rory. “Mind how you answer me next, Rory, for if I find you lied, I will cut out your tongue so you can never lie again.”
Rory locked his lips tightly and nodded vigorously.
“Are you saying this old man admitted to being the one who poisoned my father, yet he had never met him?” Slayer asked, finding that difficult to believe.
Rory spoke fast. “I cannot say that for sure since he never admitted that it was him who did the deed. I can only say what I heard and how he seemed to boast about it.”
If Rory spoke the truth, then it was at least a lead Slayer could follow, which was more than he presently had, but if it was a lie, he would be wasting his time.