“You are much younger than expected,” he muttered and holstered his weapons. He inspected each corner of the room as if an assassin hid within every shadow before returning to the doorway.
When I looked past him into the hall I saw my bread and water servant sprawled in a pool of his own blood. As his lifeless eyes studied me a pang of sorrow filled my heart. Not for him, of course. I would never miss his sour look nor his crappy bread, but for Sam who was most likely among the casualties aboard the ship.
“Who are you?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the corpse.
The stranger was busy rummaging through the corner cabinet, which I found out during my earlier exploration of the room contained nothing more than a blanket and dust. He turned when I asked the question and studied me through
