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Chapter 118
publish date:
2026-11-07 18:11:20
Latest chapter
Carrying His Claim Chapter 124
Selene found it a little before dawn.She had not slept. No one had expected her to. When the healers finally persuaded Kieran to leave and Ottilie dressed her collarbone and sent her to bed, she walked instead back down the long, low room where they had laid Lucan out, and sat down again on the same stool. She told me she could not have said why. She only knew that she could not leave him alone on his first night dead.Around the fourth hour, a thin gray light began to creep through the high windows. She had been watching it for some time, her hands folded, when she noticed that one of the buttons on his cloak hung by a single thread.Selene told me she had the strangest sense of her own heartbeat then, very slow and very distinct, like a hand knocking at the inside of a door. She reached out. She turned back the collar of his gray Thorne cloak. And she saw, along the inside of the lining, a line of small, uneven stitches in dark thread that did not match the rest of the seam.They w
Carrying His Claim Chapter 123
Kieran told me this part last, and it was the shortest. He told it in the dark, long afterward, with his arm across my back and his face turned toward the ceiling, in about four sentences. I have given it a good deal more room than he did, because I have the rest of the story to hold it up.I want to be fair to him. He would say he did nothing remarkable. He stood on a wall.He had been on the crenel with his sword in his fist and Selene's name tearing out of his throat when the mark lit.He said it was like being struck. There was no pain in it, at first, only a vast white noise that filled his skull, and a heat that rolled up the side of his neck from collarbone to jaw. He had worn the mark for months. It had been a quiet thing, a warm patch of skin that tingled when she was near. He had almost grown used to it. This was something else.For one instant he was in two places.He was on the wall of Ashwood, with the cold wind in his face and the screaming of horses rising from the slop
Carrying His Claim Chapter 122
I had never killed anything larger than a hen.I thought about that, standing at the top of Hobb's loft ladder with a hatchet in both hands and a thickset man rising slowly into the lamplight. It was an oddly clear thought, the kind that comes when fear has burned past screaming and out the other side. I had delivered other people's children for five years. I had signed contracts and checked ledgers and never once, in all that time, imagined that the most important thing I would ever do with my hands was swing an axe."Go on, then," Dalric said again, mildly, and took the next rung.I swung.He was faster than I'd imagined a man that size could be. He caught the haft in one big fist before it was halfway down, the bandaged forearm flexing like a cable, and twisted. The hatchet tore out of my hands. It flew across the loft and stuck in a beam, quivering, six feet out of my reach."That's the trouble with sentiment," Dalric said, hauling himself up onto the boards. "It's no use at all a
Carrying His Claim Chapter 121
Selene told me about the next ten seconds in her own words, and I have tried, as before, not to improve on them. She told it slowly, with her eyes fixed on the middle distance, the way you describe a place you are still partly standing in."Everything slowed," she said. "That's what they say, isn't it? I thought it was a phrase. It isn't. I remember the knife against my throat and the exact color of the sky. I remember the sound the bows made when they drew, a creak like a hundred doors. I remember Kieran's voice. And I remember thinking, quite calmly, this is a very good place to have chosen."She had not expected to live. She wanted me to understand that. She had decided, somewhere in the two days of riding with her hands bound, that the only version of this that ended well was one where she said what needed saying and did not walk away from it. She had made her peace with that. She had even, to her own astonishment, felt something like relief.Then she heard hooves behind her, very
Carrying His Claim Chapter 120
Orsik did not hurry.I have that from Gideon, and from Kieran, and from Selene herself, and all three of them, without prompting, used the same word. He took his time. He walked his horse down the long slope toward Ashwood's south wall at the pace of a man crossing his own lawn, with the white flag trailing from its spear and the bound woman in gray riding at his side, and he stopped at exactly the distance a good archer would have measured for him, close enough to be heard and too far to be hit.Behind him on the ridge, a thousand torches burned in the pale morning light. Before him, along the whole length of the parapet, every man and woman in Ashwood stood in silence and looked down."People of Ashwood," Orsik called. His voice was mild and carrying, a physician's voice. "I come under a flag of parley, and I hope you will honor it. My quarrel is not with you. It never has been. I have come to offer you your lives."Nobody answered. On the wall, Kieran stood at the center crenel wit
Carrying His Claim Chapter 119
Hobb's farmhouse stood at the bottom of a hidden valley, a long low building of gray fieldstone with a turf roof and a barn leaning against its north wall like a tired friend. I had never seen it before the day my grandmother's cottage burned. I have never forgotten a single corner of it since.He met us at his gate that afternoon without a word of question. He took one look at Marguerite, gray-faced and swaying in the saddle, at the wounded rider slumped against his friend's back, at the blackened sky behind us and the smear of ash on my cheek, and he opened the gate wider. By dusk the injured rider, whose name was Edrin, was lying on a pallet in the kitchen with a clean bandage around his thigh, and Marguerite was drinking something scalding and vile out of a tin cup, and I was sitting on the floor beside the hearth with Wren asleep in my lap and no idea at all what to do next."She said to run," I said, to nobody. "She said, ' Don't go to Ashwood.""She was right." Marguerite wiped
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