Abel and Valerie

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The smirk remained in place as if tattooed across Degaré's face.

"If you say so, Sir Abel. Truth's a funny thing, though. Its value depends on who speaks it, and who listens ... I prefer money. A coin is cold and hard and predictable, and it's worth what it says no matter who gives it to you."

The hood turned slightly towards Achille as the merchant gave his little spiel; the faceless man seemed to be silently judging Degaré. Then the shadow beneath the cloth looked out at Abel once more.

"Is it at least true" - the word was said with some disapproval - "that you are a visitor to these parts, my lord?" The hooded man's words were slow and careful, contrasting with Degaré's mocking insolence.


~

Heinrich

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For a heartbeat, there was silence - then, straining his ears, the pit fighter could just make out padded footfalls up above, the wooden beams of the stable rafters only giving the slightest whine in protest to whatever was moving across them. Heinrich squinted upwards into the gloom, looking for any hint of movement.

One shadow detached itself from another, moving forward with another light thump. Then came the ponderous wail of rotten timber as one of the beams gave away. Raining down from above, in the midst of the cloud of wet splinters, fell the fattest cat Heinrich had ever clapped eyes on. He raised a hand instinctively to block it; the shrieking thing came down claws first, scrabbling at his sleevesfor purchase. It delivered one panicked swipe to his nose before leapfrogging over his head. Turning on the spot, the pit fighter just caught sight of the end of its matted tail disappearing around the open door.

There was another yawning noise, and the two pieces of the broken rafter detached from the cieling, hitting the ground just beside him with a pair of drum-beats.