CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Godfrey sat before the bar in the small tavern early in the day, the drinks already getting to his head. This had been the worst week he could remember. First, there was his father’s death and funeral; then there was his brother Gareth’s crowning ceremony. He needed a drink. After all, what better way to toast a brother he hated? What better way to say goodbye to a father who had hated and disapproved of him his entire life?
Sitting there, flanked on either side by two of his drinking fellows—Akorth, a towering, burly fat man past his prime, with a wild red beard, and Fulton, a thin, older man with a voice that was way too raspy and a face prematurely aged by drink—Godfrey found himself surprised by his own feelings of despair. He had always thought the day his father di
