8
Cold As Ice
Thomas straightened up, stretching muscles that were pleasantly sore from the exertion of chopping. The rain had faded back into a drizzle, cooling them off as they worked. As he had expected, Torht’s silent company was just the balm he needed for his brooding thoughts.
One of Torht’s horses suddenly whinnied, echoed by another. But the second greeting was not from the paddock, and Torht and Thomas both turned to see two riders coming down the path to Torht’s holding. Thomas scowled as he recognized the visitors as Nectan and his Speaker, Domech.
He put the axe down. “I’m going back to the workshop to check on my father.”
“As you wish, wilding.” Torht’s gaze shifted to the approaching riders and then back at him. “I’ll ask that he give you some privacy.”
Thomas was grat
