(no subject)
Urquhart is leaning in a dark corner, wrapped in his dark cloak, watching the door.
There is something else behind it every time it opens.
He is eating dried dates, plucking them right from the twig with his strong, white teeth; spitting the stones over his shoulder into the fireplace, some yards away.
Even medieval contract killers have to eat!
There is something else behind it every time it opens.
He is eating dried dates, plucking them right from the twig with his strong, white teeth; spitting the stones over his shoulder into the fireplace, some yards away.
Even medieval contract killers have to eat!