gestured to a spot by the fire.
Moryson sank down gratefully. "You are a hard man to catch, Gilbert."
Gilbert continued to stare. Moryson was the last person he would have expected to appear in this lonely night. "Why aren't you with - ?"
"With Jayme?" Moryson's voice was stronger now that he'd taken the weight off his legs. "Why not?
Because Jayme was ultimately a fool, Gilbert, and a loser. I may be old but I am not yet prepared to die."
Slowly Gilbert closed his mouth. Moryson was the last one he would have thought to desert Jayme.
For perhaps forty years the pair had been inseparable, the friendship between them so deep and so strong - and so exclusive, Gilbert thought resentfully - that he would have wagered his own immortal soul on the fact that Moryson would elect to stay and share Jayme's fate.
"How did you escape Carlon?" Gilbert asked.
And why are you here, now?
Moryson coughed, a harsh guttural sound, and Gilbert passed across a waterskin.
Moryson took a deep draught, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "Thank you. I have not drunk in over a day. Well now, how did I escape? I saw you flee down the stairs as it became evident that Borneheld, the fool, had lost the battle with Axis. I knew why you left. There was nothing protecting Carlon now, and Axis would have little sympathy for you - nor for Jayme or myself.
"I tried to follow you down the stairs, but my legs are old and weak, and I lost you within minutes."
Gilbert frowned; surely he would have heard if Moryson had stumbled down the stairs after him?
"Jayme might choose to stay and confront his former BattleAxe, but I chose to leave and risk my life elsewhere," Moryson continued. "After I had lost you I fled to a small door I knew of, which opens onto Grail Lake. There I found a small
boat moored. Exhausted, but frightened by the thought that soon Axis himself might come riding into Carlon, I rowed my way across the lake to a spot well north of the Tower of the Seneschal, then began my tedious flight."
Moryson's voice strengthened as he warmed to his tale. "For days I stumbled east, then south-east, desperate to avoid Axis and the Forbidden, snatching food where I could, rest where I dared. After a week I heard tell from a passing merchant, Dru-Beorh by name, that he had encountered you further south in Nor. I wondered if perhaps my future lay with you. Alone I could do nothing, but Gilbert, I thought, Gilbert must have a plan. I shall find Gilbert. So, here I am."
Gilbert just stared at the old man. Deprivation and fright have driven him senseless, he thought. How had he managed to survive this long?
"And what sort of plan did you think I might have in mind?" he asked. "What did you think I would be able to do for you?"
"I thought that you might know somewhere to hide," Moryson said, his voice slipping back into fragility. "I won't survive on my own, but, I thought, my old friend Gilbert will help me."
Old friend indeed, Gilbert thought angrily. Moryson and Jayme kept me at arm's length for years, never trusting me with their secret confidences, never truly thinking I was worthy of their regard. Yet now Moryson, frightened and directionless, dares to sit here and tell me that he is and has always been my friend.
"I thought perhaps we could find some of our scattered brethren," Moryson said. "Axis must have dispossessed dozens of Plough-Keepers as he rode through eastern Achar towards Carlon."
Gilbert finally noticed the blackened remains of the bread and busied himself pulling the loaf clear of the coals, thinking carefully as he did so. Moryson's vague words had given him the germ of an idea. He was right. There must be many Brothers of the Seneschal, scholars as well as the local Plough-Keepers -the Brothers who ministered within the villages - wandering as vaguely and with as little direction as he and Moryson. Singly they could do nothing, but together ...
"You have hit the matter on the head, Moryson," he said. "I intend to move
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes