Free Blood and Memory by Fiona McIntosh Page B

havoc on Celimus. He must find the Manwitch; that was his first priority.
    Wyl spurred his horse into a trot, making a promise to himself that he would waste was no further time in sorrowful musings. He was Faryl for now and might as well get used to it.

 
    Chapter 6
      
    Entering Grimble Town, Wyl knew he could not stand the tight bindings around his chest much longer. The temptation to spend the night at one of the two inns got the better of him. He quickly found a stabling for his horse where the master of the stables hardly looked twice at him, and Wyl reminded himself to stop being quite so self-conscious.
    “Which inn do you recommend, Master Paul?” Wyl asked in a deep voice that Faryl could adopt with ease, adding some extra coin to the amount required. It was an old habit, one Gueryn had drummed into him from an early age.
    “Pay well for whoever looks after your horse. His care might save your life one day,” he recalled his mentor saying.
    Wyl believed such a creed should extend to all areas of his life. A few extra coins, especially silver, in someone’s palm often made that person unwittingly yours through the subtle bond of generosity. Thinking of Gueryn brought a wave of sadness that he blinked back fiercely as the stable master replied.
    “Well, the Four Feathers be as good an inn as you’ll find in these parts. The ale is watered only lightly and Kidger’s wife does an honest stew.”
    “Thank you,” Wyl said. “I’ll see you on the morrow.”
    “That you will, sir,” Master Paul said, already bending toward buckets of water to wash the horse down. Wyl smiled. Gueryn had been right. His horse would be fresh for tomorrow’s long ride, having been rubbed down properly and well fed.
    He strolled into the town proper as late afternoon settled with the stillness that often comes as the sun lowers. At this time of year, once the sun dipped far enough, the temperature plummeted and the evening became crisp. Wyl could feel it chilling as he cast a glance about Grimble Town’s main square. It was a neat, sleepy sort of place known mostly for its fields of orchards, which yielded Morgravia’s tastiest almonds and prized cherries. Come early summer the town swelled as transient workers flooded in to help with the harvest. It was also handily positioned not far from one of the main routes into Pearlis, so it enjoyed valuable seasonal trade from merchants.
    Right now it was quiet, which suited Wyl. He made his way toward the Four Feathers and was relieved that Kidger hardly took notice of the bearded stranger asking for a room. He had given his name as Thorn Bentwood. It seemed Faryl had a skill in pitching her voice to a tone low enough to be acceptably manly, so it drew no attention. He understood from her memory that this had taken years of practice and silently thanked her for her commitment. Wyl paid for two nights as a precaution as well as for several meals. He suddenly realized how hungry he was and this revelation was in no little part brought on by the hearty smells wafting from the kitchen.
    “That smells good. What’s on tonight?” he asked.
    “The missus has got some lamb stew simmering or there’s chickens on the spit.”
    Both sounded delicious. “I’ll have stew.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Kidger replied. “The girls will be serving from dusk.”
    Wyl nodded and gratefully made his way to his room, sinking onto the bed with such pleasure it might have been down-filled and covered with fine linen rather than the worn sheets and horsehair mattress. Nevertheless the bed and room were clean, with a pleasant draft of air from the open window. He had meant to undress straightaway. Instead he dozed off immediately, the bindings forgotten as sleep claimed him.
    A loud clatter of pans beneath his window woke him abruptly less than an hour later and the pain across his chest reminded him the bindings were still in place. He ordered a bath to be brought up and filled.
    “The bathhouse in