14
Tarkyn procured some wine and a couple of goblets before setting off to find Danton. He found the guardsman sleeping a little way off, his head on his pack and his soft brown woodfolk cloak wrapped around him. As Tarkyn approached, Danton’s eyes flicked open, and in one swift movement, he rolled up into a crouching position, knife in hand. When he saw who it was, he relaxed and his face lit up in welcome.
“Good evening, Danton,” said Tarkyn dryly. “Good to see your reflexes are still working well. I’m sorry I startled you.”
Danton waved a dismissive hand, realised he still held the knife in it and sheathed it before giving a slight bow and saying, “I beg your pardon for my poor welcome, my lord.”
Tarkyn smiled disarmingly. “I’ll make sure I make a lot of noise from a distance next t
