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   Chapter 49 No.49

The Book of Deacon By Joseph R. Lallo Characters: 5114

Updated: 2018-01-19 19:02


"These are hard times. . . regardless, I again apologize. I shall endeavor to make my time here brief and leave you in peace, " Trigorah replied.

"As you wish, though it is not often I am graced by the presence of a general. May I offer any hospitality?" he said, the realization of his current guest finally taking hold.

"Only answers, Father. Were you visited, perhaps two weeks ago, by anyone? Anyone out of the ordinary?" she asked.

"Mmm. You'd be after the girl, then, I suppose. What was her name now? Myranda. Myranda Celeste. A sympathizer, " he recalled.

Trigorah hesitated for a moment when she heard the name.

"You are certain about that?" she asked.

"Quite sure. Up to some mischief, is she? Stirring things up?" he asked.

"So it would seem, " Trigorah replied quietly.

"Mmm. I feared as much." He nodded.

"I don't suppose you were able to determine if she was carrying anything, " Trigorah pressed.

"I imagine she had a pack. I heard the odd clink or thunk when she sat down. At least I think I did. It was quite a few days ago, " he answered.

"Thank you. That is all. I appreciate your time, " Trigorah said, turning to leave.

"Anything to lend a hand to the Alliance Army, " the priest said as she closed the door and hurried out.

Trigorah's rigid, analytic mind clashed against these new developments, churning though them. Some she set aside for further study, others she tried push to the back of her mind. Not every fact had been a welcome one. One thing was for certain, thou

isn't even time to use codes, and, and, we are learning where the higher up people are and what their names are and what they are doing and where troops are coming from, and, and that means that there are openings and that means that we can hit them and cause real damage! Not like we've been doing! We can really hurt them and that means we need all the people we can get, and she gave me a knife and this great armor and it is all thanks to you!" the young boy spouted, almost without breathing.

"Right, that will be enough, lad. Just run off and tell your sister that if any more of this silver finds its way into your grubby little mitts, I'll be asking for three bags next time, " he said, ushering the boy out the door and slamming it shut.

"Saints alive! The mouth on that boy. His parents should have just dressed up a monkey and cut off its tail. At least then they would get some peace and quiet now and then. What on earth was that yammering about, anyway? Have I got a celebrity as a pupil?" he asked.

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