"All right," he said. "Bind my wrists, before I change my mind. And
see that the knots are tight. If anyone examines them, I want it to
look real."
Purceville did as he asked, exactly, then remounted. All done in
silence, and without once looking into his face.
In silence also did he spur his mount, and lead the bound man, none
too gently, down the hill and onto the road that had swallowed the
women. And on to the garrison of men.
Thirty-Five
The Lord Purceville leaned back heavily against the cold stone wall,
eyes wide with a fear that was altogether new to him. His own
breathing as they reached the upper stories had become tight and
irregular; and now, though nearly twenty minutes had elapsed, his
chest had still not relented its angry rebellion at such use.
For he was no longer young, and his body's weight had begun to
overmatch the inherent strength of his limbs and heart. And this same
heart, which had served him so long and so well as to be all but
forgotten, now labored heavily to compensate. And while he was
probably in no danger of a seizure, what he had seen in Arthur, and
the long suppressed fear that his physical hardihood would one day
desert him, combined to race dark imaginings through his mind.
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