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   Chapter 20 No.20

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5441

Updated: 2018-01-19 12:03


With that he turned to the woods, quickening into a sprint that no man could match. Myranda watched as her unexpected friend disappeared over the hill and into the forest. Almost immediately, the loneliness closed in around her. She sighed heavily and pulled her hood up into place, the long goodbye leaving her ears badly stinging from the cold.

The sigh turned to a startled gasp as she felt a trio of ice-cold objects creep down her back. After frantically tracking them down with her hands, she retrieved the culprits. Three large silver coins, worth fifty coppers each. Leo must have slipped them into her hood just before he left.

Myranda placed the sneaky gift into the one pocket that had not been worn through by overuse. With no company to occupy her mind, Myranda focused on the unfamiliar jingling of money in her pocket to distract her from the long road ahead. Not unlike the rest of this war-torn land, the coins had a rather troubled past.

There had been a time, long before her own, when the three kingdoms that had become the Northern Alliance were still separate. Each had coins of their own. There were different sizes, designs, and names. Then came the war. The reason for the conflict between the vast southern kingdom of Tressor and the small mining kingdom Vulcrest was lost to the ages, but hostilities soon became such that Vulcrest could not hope to face the mighty foe alone. The sister kingdoms of Kenvard and Ulvard were called upon for aid. Before long, any distinction between the three kingdoms was lost--as with nearly all aspects of life, the money was stripped of its individuality for t

he asked.

"I do, " he assured her.

"Then it would seem I have found my way, " she said.

"I see. My apologies, miss. I don't get many young ladies through here. Truth be told, haven't had many people at all through here, " he said.

"Then I would think you would be happy to see me, " she said.

"Oh, that I am, miss. As a matter of fact, I've got just what you'll be wanting right here, " he said.

The feeble old man tottered to one of the cases behind the counter, mumbling all the way.

"Just the thing for dainty hands. Nice and light. . . and small, " he muttered.

He hobbled back to the counter with a leather pad with an array of small knives arranged on it. The eager salesman placed it down, beside where Myranda had placed the cloth-wrapped sword while he walked. The hidden prize drew a curious glance from the old man.

"Did I put this here?" he asked, scratching his head.

"No, sir, I did, " she assured him.

"Oh. . . why?" he asked, the years having taken their toll on his mind, it would seem.

"I would like to sell it to you, " she said.

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