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Chapter 12
Suspicion filled Marshall as he watched the fat man leave the barn. He went to the entrance and watched the monk’s shadow as he crossed the yard and entered the back of the house. A candlelight suddenly came alive near the open window as a woman came into view. She was talking with the monk. After a moment, Marshall went to the back of the house. He glimpsed the woman who took the candle before climbing the stairs. Leiras followed her.
The captain went back to the horses and led them from the barn to the back gate of the courtyard. He stood there, debating his next steps. The monk knew the area and knew the path to Amsterdam. Worse, a waning moon barely lit the city, even if Marshall knew what road to take out of the town. The fat man knew the language as well.
An Anglais would not make it far before guards took him back to that foul jail.
With a sigh, he waited while halfway expecting a noose around his neck soon. Every sound of the night caused Marshall to assume guards were nearby. He stroked the mane of his horse to comfort his nerves while telling himself it was for the animal. After what seemed like an eternity, the black monk finally returned. The jingling sound and light coming from a modified sanctuary lamp with a mirror preceded him. He blew out the fire, then hooked the unusual-looking item on the saddle. Leiras noticed Marshall staring at the object.
“Denisot liked my special lantern from Xeropotamou, so it was the first thing that the jailer stole from me. I bought it using her dead husband’s silver.” The monk whispered as he hoisted himself on top of his horse.
“She also told me of the best route out of town. Unlatch the gate.”
Marshall hurried to open the back gate, and then he hoisted himself on the mount.
“What about the body?”
“Denisot already knows about the death of her husband. I consoled her in bed and paid her a few pieces of silver for her time. Now, keep quiet and follow me.”
Leiras directed his horse through the gate, and Marshall followed while shaking his head.
This monk carries no more of a conscience than I do!
The two men took a winding path through a maze of dark alleyways. Unable to see beyond a few feet, the slow pace kept Marshall tense as he heard every sound in the night. He expected guards at every corner. Finally, they reached a narrow path near a pen holding sheep, and Leiras stopped his horse. The barks coming from a nearby dog caused Marshall’s horse to rear back. The captain had trouble holding on.
“You’ll learn to be a horseman by the time we get to our destination.” The monk laughed as he spurred his mount away.
Fortunately for the men, the tiny house next to the pen remained dark as they followed the path out of the village. Crossing an open field, they rode in silence. Soon, the horses came upon a road near the docks. The waning night brought a red-purple haze on the horizon. Marshall saw the shadowed outline of the ship’s masts, and he remembered the dagger that Jacotte stole from him.
“You’re too quiet,” Leiras told Marshall. “I sense you have doubts about me.”
Marshall brought his horse to a stop. The monk did the same.
“Leiras, you’ve already done far more for me than I can repay. However, I return to retrieve my stolen items from that bitch Jacotte. I’ll meet you in Amsterdam. There’s no need for you to risk your neck.”
“No, I’ll lead you to the docks. I have a responsibility to watch over you.” The monk’s good-natured smile puzzled the captain.
“Ah, I see you need to learn trust. Let me lead the way so you know all that I tell you is true.”
The fat man turned his horse toward the docks.
“Your thief must live aboard the boat or above the taverns. Either way, we’ll find her.” He spurred his horse before Marshall replied.
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