I sat across the fire and watched the young soldier make us dinner. He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, the blue wool studded with shiny silver buttons and insignia that caught the light. He was a servant of the Brotherhood, yes, but he also had the wet-behind-the-ears attitude that made me want to both trust him and protect him. He also seemed to know precisely what he was doing at the cookfire; the spitted rabbits appeared to be crisping nicely.
Clarinel curled up at my side and tried to stay out of the firelight, forcing me to turn half-away from the warmth to keep her within my arms. Balezor had given her his curly ram horns and she couldn’t get rid of them, so an inn was not an option and we had to depend on the young soldier’s kindness and discretion. I tried to comfort the girl while Alimore kept testing her demon for any reaction.
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