The Lawkeeper of Samara (The Fourth Age of Shanakan Book 2) by Tim Stead Page A

what each man and woman had to do, but he doubted his ability to convey it to the others, so he made them repeat it back to him, to tell him what they were supposed to do. When he was satisfied he sent them out into the night to prepare themselves and eventually he was alone again.
    It was a simple plan and it might come to nothing. An idiot would fall for it, or perhaps someone who thought they were cleverer than they really were. It was the same thing, really. But if there was even the faintest chance that it would work they had to try it.
    Ulric’s head appeared around the door.
    “Anything to eat, Chief?” he asked.
    Sam shook his head.
    “You should eat. It’s going to be a long night and there’s a stew. Even I can’t eat it all, and the cook’s going home.”
    A long night. “All right,” Sam said. “I’ll join you.”
    The cook had apparently been waiting behind Ulric, because he appeared a moment later with two large, steaming bowls of food. Sam suspected a benign plot, but the food smelled good, very good, and he realised he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
    “You should try to sleep,” Ulric said as they ate. “You’ll need to be sharp.”
    “Not me,” Sam said. “I just need to be there.”
    *
    He had slept, in the end. The meal was heavy and dragged him down into a welcome oblivion and he awoke with the dawn and the sound of a sparrow bleating outside his window. He’d slept in one of the upstairs rooms. He’d also slept remarkably well.
    Sam dressed and washed, then went downstairs. Ulric was there and there was a welcome smell coming from the kitchen.
    “Ulric?”
    “Chief?”
    “Whatever you put in my food last night, don’t do it again.”
    Ulric stopped eating his breakfast, a fork half way to his mouth. His expression was carefully neutral.
    “Didn’t you sleep well?”
    “Like a labouring man without a worry in the world,” Sam said. “First time in years. It was unnerving.”
    “Right,” Ulric said.
    “I’m serious, Ulric. Don’t do it again.” He shrugged. “At least ask me first.”
    “Will do, Chief,” the fat man said, and began eating again.
    “What is that?” Sam asked, pointing at the plate.
    “Eggs.”
    “Doesn’t look like it.”
    “It’s got mushrooms in it, and spices, and other things that I don’t remember.”
    “And the leaves?”
    “Do you want to try it?” Ulric offered his plate.
    Sam took a careful forkful and put it in his mouth. He had no idea what the cook had done with it, but it didn’t taste like eggs. It was better.
    “Is there any more of it?”
    Ulric pointed to the kitchen.
    Sam ate. Maybe it was what Ulric had slipped him the night before, but he was hungry. There was no hurry. He knew that it would be an hour before Donnal and Findaran arrived and he needed them. There was no rushing this.
    He drank three cups of jaro, and on top of a good night’s sleep he began to feel the tension building up in his muscles. He had to flex his fingers to keep them loose, and he rolled his shoulders to ease them.
    The two guards turned up and he let them sit for a while, eat something, have a cup or two of jaro before he spoke.
    “We’re to Gulltown again,” he said. “I’ll harness the wagon.”
    Donnal shook his head. “Surely there’s nothing left to find in the mud?”
    “Maybe, maybe not, but I’m going to have another look.”
    He left them to their preparations and went out back into the yard. He hitched up the horse and climbed onto the wagon. His hands felt clumsy on the reins. He took a couple of deep breaths and flicked the wagon forwards. Donnal and Findaran were waiting round the front and fell in behind him as he drove towards the bridge.
    He let the horse walk at its own pace. Every now and then he flicked the reins to keep it moving but to all appearances their progress was leisurely, unhurried. Sam wanted to gallop. He wanted to be in Gulltown. He wanted to see if this was going to work - and at the