Chapter Nine
There was a deathly stillness out in the forest, that air of expectancy that seems to wait, breathless, for some event to occur or some danger to pass before customary activity may be resumed. It was the dead of night, but even at this hour there should have been more life. As Konrad passed through the half-frozen, mist-drenched trees, animals hid in their burrows and birds cowered in the dormant winter branches. Even the moon refused to shine, hiding itself behind a cloak of heavy cloud.
Konrad ignored it all. He had his purpose now, and this was the part that he both anticipated and dreaded: the hunt, and at the end of it, the kill. He strode on, relentless, following Irinanda’s directions in his mind as he made for the house where the treacherous poison-man resided.
He f
