FOURTEEN
Deep in his cups, Alard had grasped Chase's arm with both hands. "Promise me something, Sir Chase," he'd slurred.
Chase had nodded once, encouraging the man to continue.
"Warn the witch. She lives in a cottage in the woods. Tell her you're here at my request to slay the wolf. Tell her to stay out of the woods, where she'll be safe."
Chase had nodded again, agreeing to the man's request. What else could he say, anyway?
"Thank you," Alard had breathed, before pitching face-first onto the table and starting to snore.
Chase had reclaimed his arm and headed off to his own bed, where he'd slept like the dead.
Now, dawn found him outside in the cold, packing enough food into his saddlebags for a week-long hunt while one of the stable boys fetched him several extra quivers of a
