Page 58 of Silverbow
Oryn ground his teeth but he asked, “How is it possible for Sana’s gift to appear in the bloodline of some no name house?”
Colm had a certain preoccupation with the Estryian nobility, so if anyone would know, it would be him.
“I don’t know.”
For the first time in over two centuries, Oryn was certain Colm was lying to him.
Colm
Colm sat on a barstool in the Sunken Buoy, listening to a wool merchant tell the same tale he’d heard at the Boom Towernot half an hour gone. He’d set out hunting news, and twice already he’d heard the same tale from Innesh. The farmers and shepherds must have gone mad to burn half the village, but the tale seemed as true as tavern news was, which was about half true, at best. Falsehoods and fabrications grew with every mile word traveled, but Innesh was only a little over a week from Trowbridge. That ought to count for something, Colm supposed. Still, it was not the news he was after.
He’d been toeing carefully around the bounty, though there was not much reason to be cautious. Ten thousand gold marks was enough to make even the doe eyed barmaids dream. Men laughed over their cups about how they would spend their gold. It often involved women and wine and earned sour expressions from goodwives. There were grumblings from merchants whose guards had run off, and ship captains short sailors, all chasing after the most wanted woman in Estryia. Still, it seemed no one had heard more than a whisper of Enya Ryerson.
She had to be here, or would be soon. He’d found her dream again and though it had been a terrible dream of brigands and bounty hunters chasing her, he’d caught a glimpse of a wall he was fairly certain belonged to Trout Run. She was heading this way. She would be near.
It was only that certainty that anchored them to Trowbridge. Stopping Oryn from galloping all the way to Innesh had been a feat of the gods. Whatever the girl was, it hadn’t only unsettled them. Oryn was still keeping a tight leash on his gifts, holding the damper in place even when they were far from pryingeyes. That troubled him. Oryn’s air gift was disastrously strong to be unruly. Colm realized he was shaking his head when the merchant redoubled his insistence it was true.
They had pressed their horses as hard as they dared, Oryn chewing rocks as each day yawned into night. Colm had said little and less of what drove the man, it was not his to share, but Oryn would have to answer to the others for driving them like gods blinded fools. Not even Aiden was so hasty, and the boy had all of Bellas’s fire and none of his good sense.
He blinked at what the wool merchant was saying. “...burned down the soldier’s outpost.”
“In Trout Run?”
The merchant nodded gravely and lowered his voice. “They’re saying there might be a rebellion.”
Colm blinked. “When?”
“I don’t know, man, I’m just telling you what they’re saying.”
“I mean Trout Run. When was the fire?”
“Five days ago now, or so I heard,” the merchant shrugged.
Five days.Colm thought it was too much to hope it was a coincidence. “Any news of the bounty?”
The merchant shrugged. “Heard someone saw her skulking down by the docks this morning. Course I also heard she slipped through weeks ago, probably halfway to Durelli by now.”
“Probably,” he agreed. He fished in his pocket and slid coppers across the bar to pay for the drinks. “Have the wielders been summoned? To deal with the trouble in Innesh?”
The merchant shrugged again. “Prolly, but they haven’t come down yet from Windcross Wells.” Wielders were always news unless the town had an outpost and Trowbridge blessedly did not.
Colm gave the man a tight smile. “Well, let’s hope the king’s men put it right before anyone gets hurt,” he said lightly. “I should be off to find an inn. Light and luck shine upon you.”
Colm blinked in the bright morning sunlight as he stepped out of the tavern and crossed the alley. Oryn was leaning against a barrel watching people pass by. If she was headed to the eastern gate, he’d spot her from where he stood.
“News?” He asked curtly.
“Rumor she was down at the docks this morning.”
Oryn looked torn between bolting for the docks and maintaining his post, but Colm turned and started up the street.
“Where are you going?” Oryn called after him.
“To the soldier’s outpost.”
“Why?”
“Someone burned the one in Trout Run to the ground.” And he had a sinking suspicion the Silverbow had something to do with it.
