The big, golden man was obviously a fighter. Perhaps he was guard for the other two. At the same time, he was definitely not a follower. Words like commander, leader, evenking, were practically engraved on the male’s forehead.
Wolfe hadn’t heard him speak a single word. It was always the quiet ones you had to watch out for.
But then, the small, silver fox was rather deadly himself. A man like him wouldn’t require additional protection. He was not overtly aggressive, however. He used his martial skills for defense rather than offense. He was dangerous, but not threatening.
At least, not in the bodily-injury sense. Though the elf triggered Wolfe’s…awareness…in other ways that he didn’t yet fully comprehend.
“Or assassins?” Tristan said in a hushed, excited voice, trending in the same direction of thoughts as Wolfe’s.
“The elf looks capable of killing in cold blood, don’t you think? And did you see his hair? His eyes? His effing skin? What kind of coloring is that? I thought he was an albino at first until I saw the black brows. His eyes aren’t rabbity either. Never seen blue like that before.”
Neither had Wolfe. Not in all his travels in all these years.
When the elfin man had stared directly into his face, he was helpless not to stare back.
It was a distinctive visage he’d never forget. He couldn’t imagine anyone who could.
“I wonder where they’re headed,” Tristan went on, pursuing his line of curiosities.
“There’s only one place this road leads to—Caerleon Castle and the towns that surround it. Well, I suppose there’s also the Bay with all the merchant ships. Perhaps they are indeed travelers looking for the fastest ship to carry them home.”
Wolfe didn’t think so.
If they were looking for a ship, they weren’t wanting it to return from whence they came. The trio had the look of the hunt about them. They were in pursuit of something.
Wolfe recognized that look well. He saw it every time he looked at his own reflection.
“Which makes me wonder where they’re from. Where they were before they arrived at this tavern. And why they’re traveling on foot. The closest village is two days away by horse.”
The boy made good points. Wolfe had some of the same questions.
But it was pointless to speculate. All he cared about was whether they were threats and whether they could possibly be useful in his quest.
Wherever they were from, they seemed to hail fromexoticplaces, by the looks of all three. Perhaps Wolfe could gain valuable knowledge from them for what he sought. Or perhaps they could lead him to someone who had the necessary information.
He just needed to determine what he could offer them in return.
“Why are we headed to Caerleon, by the by?” Tristan changed tack and asked him a direct question he couldn’t ignore.
“You hate Court. I thought you wanted to avoid the castle and its attractions at all cost? I have no idea why. All the prettiest maids are found there. In every shape, color and size. Don’t you have a ladylove in the castle? Isn’t that why you receive letters I read for you and help you pen a response?”
Wolfe’s brows lowered, his jaw flexing involuntarily with tension.
The boy was not stupid. Sometimes, Wolfe worried that he knew too much.
Thankfully, he continued his contemplations without dwelling further on Wolfe’s personal matters.
“Even the whores are pretty. They wear fancier dresses than the richest lady in these outlands. I can’t wait to visit the bath houses as well. Haven’t had a nice hot soak in days. And the food…Mmm, I can almost taste it.”
“There will be a tournament,” Wolfe finally answered the boy’s initial question, keeping his tone even.
“In honor of the Queen. The prize is what I seek.”
“What?” Tristan squawked with surprise.
Wolfe could hear him half rising to a sitting position to spear him with an accusing glare.
“You never mentioned this. And you never enter tournaments. I thought one has to be a knight of noble lineage to participate. You’re a bast—”