A Promise of Iron Brandon McCoy (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

He looked around as if expecting me to be struck down, then spat at my feet. “You could say that, my lord, but that’s not it. He has got an Alea, a… oh how do I explain… he uh…well here I’ll show you.

He led me past the stalls to Steven’s pen. He grabbed a broom and stepped onto Steven’s good side. “Watch this.”

He slowly lifted the broom around Steven’s head until the handle was just inches away from Steven’s clouded eye. The beast didn’t move. The old man placed the broom on the ground and patted Steven gently on the neck. “Now watch this.”

He lifted his hand out, following the same path as the broom. Steven lifted his head, then nuzzled into the hand. The old man turned to me, smiling. “You see, not blind.”

“Not sure what you are getting at, Ada?”

“He sees my hand, but not the broom. He sees my hand because it’s warm and the broom isn’t. He’s not blind just…”

“Touched,” I said, astonished. “He can see like the Mere do, well one eye at least.”

The old man nodded. “It’s pretty rare, not many lines left with it. You say he’s Roharan; I wouldn’t argue that on account of his build, but I would bet a new copper there’s more to that story.” He patted him again. “How much did you get him for?”

“I-I’m not sure, honestly. He was a gift.”

The old man stepped to retrieve the saddle. “Well, I expect the folks that sold him had no idea what they had there. A beast like this would catch a few crowns just to stud.” He scratched behind Steven’s ear. “Lucky bastard earning himself a fortune doing what nature intended, while we Ruks toil in the...”

He trailed off as he handed me the reins. “My apologies, my lord.”

“No apology necessary,” I said, extending my arm. “Just a couple Ruks talking.” I placed my boot in the stirrups. “You mind getting the door?”

I breathed in softly and nudged Steven forward with the heel of my boot. We reached the outer wall quickly, and after a brief conversation with the guard, he opened the gate and let me pass.

A pile of broken spear shafts and wooden shields were piled up outside the wall, armaments scavenged from the battle last night. If there were any metal heads, they must have been removed as all that remained were a few stone points and sharpened wood. A cloud of black smoke hung low in the air to the north—the burn pyres for the Golmere corpses. No sense in burying the things; no afterlife awaited them.

I took this journey slowly, nursing my leg just as much as reminding Steven who was in charge. We reached Forhd as the sun was beginning its descent to the east. Coming home was not about throwing a fit. I had reasons to be in Forhd. The iron circle rattling around in my satchel was one such reason; the copper ring on my finger was the other. I had contemplated what I would say to Lira on the trip, but all the words jumbled in my mind in an incoherent mess. Solving the needs of the Circle seemed a more straightforward affair.

The gate guard at Forhd had doubled since the incident with the Golmere; no doubt word had spread of a small warband roaming the hills to the north. I dismounted and handed the lead man my writ book.

“Monroe,” the guard said as he eyed me suspiciously. He took a long look at Nahdril belted at my waist. “I didn’t know Lord Monroe had another son.”

I snatched the writ book from his hands. “He doesn’t.”

“That’s Faerin there, ye bloody fool,” the second man called out in a gruff voice, “Bastard of Belen Hill, he is.”

I tried to hide my displeasure at the name; the Sword of Belen Hill was by far my preferred version.

He gave me a playful wink. “See, Lord Monroe claimed him as one of his pups. Explains why he was always hanging about the young Monroe; they was just brothers all along!”

I manufactured a smile as I tucked my book back into my jacket. “Are we done here?”

The first man grunted as he motioned for the gate crew to open the door. “Sure thing, your lordship.”

I didn’t bother with a clever reply.

Turns neared on my right, along with the promise of a cold ale and a hot meal. It would also solve one of my two outstanding appointments. As much as I wanted to see Lira, I had a lot on my mind, and the best way to work through it…was to work through it. I nudged Steven forward then tied him to the wooden beam underneath the sign.

I took my seat at the table against the wall. As I had expected, Melly was tending bar tonight.

“I heard about the party,” she said plainly. “Congratulations, I assume? Shame, I missed it.”

I managed a weak smile. “It was one for the books, I’m sure.”

She tossed her hair and leaned over the table. “So, what will it be tonight?”

“Ink, wax, and paper, if you can spare it. I have a message to send out, and I left mine at the shop.”

She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head.

I added, “And an ale and whatever you have serving for dinner tonight. I plan on working a bit.”

“Contracts?” she asked with excitement.

I looked up at her. “If they are asking, get their details, and I will vet them out.”

She nodded, then made her way back to the bar to retrieve the writing supplies. She came back moments later with a tall ale, a few sheets of paper, a nearly dried inkwell, and a half broken candle stuck to the top of a clay warming plate.

“Sorry,” she said. “Folks don’t ask much for writing here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, taking the reed and the first sheet of paper. I wrote a few lines when I realized she was hovering over. I looked up.

She took that