Saint's Blood: The Greatcoats Book 3 by Sebastien De Castell Page B

seeing to his wound. I didn’t fool myself that my aim was so careful that Brell would be sure to live, but I’d given him as much of a chance as the circumstances had allowed.
    I knelt down to wipe my blade on the grass. ‘Come on then,’ I said, examining my rapier to make sure it was clean. ‘Let’s keep things moving along. Beatti feci forze Deato . If the Gods love you, then surely the next man will beat me.’
    I rose and faced the crowd. ‘Who’s next?’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The King’s Shadow
    ‘That was a remarkably foolish gamble,’ Allister said, leaning heavily on my shoulder as we trudged back towards the martyrium gates where Kest and Brasti awaited us.
    The crowds ignored us, for the most part. I’d had to duel two more men, one of whom had some talent but no training. The other might have had a chance, had he not been using an over-heavy and poorly balanced sword. Even weak as I was, neither had presented any great challenge. It would have been an entirely different situation if they had thought to swarm me en masse, but once I’d put that creeping question in their minds – why, if the Gods loved them so, had they not given any one of the first three men the strength to beat me – gradually stole away any lust for battle. This appeared to be doubly true of the cleric, who’d made his surreptitious exit before the third man had even fallen.
    ‘Lucky bastard is what you are,’ Allister said.
    I hadn’t see Allister for more than five years, and I’d just saved him, so it was a bit annoying that he had so quickly fallen back into questioning my tactics. He failed to notice my irritation and went on, ‘One day, Falcio, you’re going to be facing a mob who aren’t so mesmerised by your theatrics. What would you’ve done if that cleric had been better versed in his catechism and simply countered with Deato publis magni ?’
    ‘“Through the many are the Gods manifest”? That’s too complicated for your average roadside cleric.’ I paused for a moment. ‘Of course, if you’d like to go back, have them tie you up again and explain to that idiot in orange robes how he could have got everyone to jump me at once—’
    Allister grinned. ‘Let’s leave it for next time.’
    We were just about at the gates when Allister stopped me. ‘No, not here. Round the back.’
    The weight of him leaning on my shoulder made me question whether I had the energy to make it all the way around the complex myself, let alone half-carrying him. And I wasn’t keen on spending any more time out with the pilgrims than was strictly necessary. But Allister’s face told me he’d considered both problems, and was still insistent.
    ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Just let me tell Kest and Brasti to meet us there.’
    ‘No,’ he grunted, no longer able to hide how much pain he was suffering. ‘Just you. Something you need to see, going to make your day a whole lot worse.’
    *
    It took us a lot of slow, heavy steps to work our way around the other side of the martyrium grounds. The tall iron gates ended in a thick stone wall roughly ten feet high. Trees and other vegetation had grown in over the years, so it wasn’t entirely impossible to get over the walls if we needed to, but I was really hoping we’d not have to try.
    I let go of Allister and let him lean against the wall. He took a few deep breaths before putting two fingers to his lips and letting out a whistle that pierced the air.
    ‘Who in hells are you calling?’ I asked.
    ‘My horse. Kicked her away when those men pulled me off her.’
    ‘Why in the world would you do that? She might have helped you escape.’
    ‘Couldn’t take the chance that the mob would catch her.’
    ‘I’m sure your horse is gratified by your concern, but—’
    ‘Couldn’t let the mob see what she was carrying,’ he said, then pointed behind me.
    I turned to see a pale brown and white mare tear up the ground as she galloped towards us and stopped a few feet away, eyeing