Chapter 5: The King's Order

The Northmark healer stitched my shoulder in a small stone room above the hall.

She worked without a word, and the needle burned every time it went through.

Garrick stood by the window with his back to me.

He had sworn not to touch me, and he was keeping it so hard it hurt to watch.

His scarred hand was closed on the sill.

The healer tied off the last stitch and left us alone.

I pulled Garrick's coat over my shoulders and sat on the edge of the cot.

"Turn around," I said.

He turned.

"You told me you didn't know why he sent you away."

"I didn't, in the tunnel."

"And now?"

He did not answer right away.

He reached inside his torn coat and took out a square of paper folded very small.

It was soft with sweat and blood, and he held it.

"He gave me this at noon," Garrick said. "He told me not to open it until I reached the border post."

"You read it there."

"I read it on the road back, after somebody shot at me."

He put it in my hand.

I knew the handwriting at once, the thick slanting letters of a man who hated writing.

Garrick, go to the border post tonight. Don't argue. If anyone asks, I wanted you out of the way.

I think they will move on her birthday. I need them to believe I'm blind. A captain at my back would tell them I know.

I'm staking my life on her having two minutes and a wolf.

Keep her alive after.

She's going to be a better king than I was.

I read it twice.

The words blurred, and I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

"He knew," I said.

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