Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (ebook e reader .txt) 📕

how to draw the least attention to himself and Crimson when they moved.

“Or I can try to lead him there myself,” I said. “You don’t need to risk anyone seeing you with my horse.”

He shook his head, smiling. “You’re risking enough, for all the rest of us,” he said. “My pleasure to help … ‘Red Rider’. Be back in ten minutes.”

He left. I stood behind the shelves of wine that would so offend Father Vestille, and marveled at Gerard Touraine’s bravery on my behalf. I now saw that Francois placed him in high regard for more than his knowledge of the town gossip.

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33.

From the rooftop of Focult le Tonnelier –

Focult’s Cooper Shop across the street – I watched Jacque Denue stroll out of La Maison. The moonlight cast a dark, swaying shadow of his clumsy movements as he continued past the building where I perched.

I had stolen out of the cellar as night fell, while villagers poured into the front doors of La Maison. Those who wished to drink were focused only on the tavern entrance, while those who did not were focused on retiring to their own cottages.

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Giving me ample room to climb to the roof of La Maison with Pierre’s grappling hook, then leap across to Focult le Tonnelier after most of the drinkers went inside. As I had waited and listened, first on one roof and then the other, I heard a few people mention Jacque Denue searching for the Red Rider. Thank God he had not connected me to Touraine. Apparently he had confided his search with several others in the tavern.

I now descended from the roof of Focult le Tonnelier into the dark alley to find out why.

“You’ve been asking for me,” I said beside him.

Jacque Denue nearly fell over his own feet as he twisted about to see me peering at him through my large hood.

“You,” he gasped. “Y-Yeah. You’ve been fighting them, haven’t you? Killing them?”

I frowned, recalling Father Vestille’s displeasure with my crusade. “Yes.”

“You know what they are, right? That they’re not – not wolves. They’re not even human.”

He knew. He knew everything I had

learned and perhaps more. “Yes. I know. But what do you know? About Duke Laurent?”

He looked about, nervous. Almost terrified.

“I can’t be seen with you. They’ll kill me.”

“They’ll kill you, anyway, so talk.”

He shook his head, looking hysterical.

“They got people all over, you know? They could be watching us now.”

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I couldn’t argue with that. The Lycanthru could be hiding anywhere in the shadows, in wolf or human form.

He looked around again, over his shoulder and down the street. “Look, I’ll walk a block.

Watch where I go and meet me there later. Don’t let anybody see you.”

He backed away, half-stumbling as he marveled at my cloaked appearance. I let him depart, then crept to the corner of the wall to see where he headed. He hurried across the street, still glancing in all directions. At the end of the block, he stopped in front of a large horse stable and examined it. Looking around to confirm no one was watching, he threw up the latch on the door and stepped inside.

I waited a few moments in the quiet, listening for any other movement. I studied the torch over the tavern door behind me. No one else would leave La Maison this early. I hurried from one alleyway to the next, moving down the street.

Then I broke into a quick run for the stable doors and went inside.

The stable felt even larger within, with room for over twenty horses. A single lantern at the opposite end of the stable gave sparse light, where Denue stood waiting. He seemed calmer now, standing taller as I strode toward him, my cloak wafting behind me. Nevertheless, his face paled as I approached. “Now,” I said. “Tell me what you know of Laurent.”

“All right, I’ll tell you.” His voice turned menacing. “He’s eager to meet you.”

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Hay shuffled behind me