They sat in the busy parlour of the pub at a small, round table close to the fire which was burning to ward off the early evening chill. They each had a tankard of ale, and they sat unspeaking in some sort of peculiarly uneasy truce. For the first time since he had met him, Dearne was stuck for something to say to Will. He fished about in the mess that was his head for something which wouldn’t offend.
“Did you manage to secure a carriage and horses?” It was the best he could come up with.
Will took a long drink, flicked a glance up at him, then ran his thumb over his top lip. “Yes. If we decide to go to York we would be able to borrow the right equipage.”
“Good. Good.” Dearne took a drink and looked around.
Will ran his finger down the outside of his tankard and looked at the ale. “Hav
