59
He is No Monk
About an hour later, Wulfram suddenly pulled his horse to a halt, the rest following suit. The rain had begun again, falling in a steady patter around them. “Hold,” the Unseelie said, holding up a hand. He motioned to Daegmund to join him. “Can you see…?”
Thomas couldn’t see past Wulfram’s horse to spy what had halted him, but he didn’t care much what it was. He was just grateful for the chance to rest. He was bruised and mud-slicked from falling, pain throbbing in his wrists where the rope had rubbed him raw and in his abused shoulders where they had been wrenched each time he fell.
“’Tis Oswine!” Daegmund announced, squinting through the rain. “I see his standard!”
The name sparked sudden interest. Oswine, King of Deira, was Oswy’s cousin and sub-ruler under Oswy’s
