2
Breaking Fast
Julian spat the last of his teeth-cleaning solution into his little washbowl, then straightened and smirked at himself in the mirror. He had almost become civilized.
He took a moment to lace up his boots—brown leather, weathered and comfortable, that came almost to his knees—then he pinned his badge of office, a silver fist grasping a set of scales, onto the breast of his dark green tunic and strapped on his sword belt. A moment later he was out the door, ready to face another day as the hammer of justice.
Or, more likely, the solver of middling disputes.
As he pulled the door to his small flat shut behind him and locked up, Julian reflected that life as Constable of Lydelton was not quite what he thought it would be. Hardly surprising, considering how he and Raedrick
