Dark Thorn - Grim Oak Press

S HAWN S PEAKMAN
the Holy Land with his family, made his way to Britain where he
kept safe what would become known as the Holy Grail, and helped
Christianize the Misty Isles by founding Glastonbury Abbey.
Since most of it was cannibalized by later Arthurian writings,
no one had reason to read Joseph d’Arimathe.
Except those who needed to know the history of the Heliwr.
“If your intentions toward the boy are truly only altruistic,
what kind of work does he do in the stacks?”
“He helps me about the store,” Merle said, shrugging. “Does
what you once did.”
“And look how that turned out.”
Merle leaned forward, his eyes softening. “I know our past has
never made our present an easy one to naviga—
“Do not lecture,” Richard interrupted sharply.
“I will,” Merle insisted. “What you do not know has always
hindered your judgment, especially where I am concerned. That
will change with time, sooner than you think, I wager. That I know
to be true, Richard McAllister.”
It was Richard’s turn to be quiet. He did not trust Merle, no
matter his sincerity. Merle had a résumé full of completed machinations,
ones that had wounded innocent people—like Richard—
in their execution. The bookseller had always attempted to control
events around the world for the betterment of mankind. Yet every
attempt yielded casualties of the body, heart, and mind. For the
old man to directly make such a bold statement about Richard’s
immediate future left the knight feeling more leery than ever.
When Merle began telling Richard unveiled truth, the knight
would give him the benefit of the doubt. Until then, he would keep
the wizened man away from his heart.
And maybe not even then.
“My own counsel will I keep,” Richard said finally.
“As you should,” Merle said, gaining his feet and placing his
pipe back in his pocket. “Now, shall I have a look at that arm? Or
should I let you keep bleeding into those filthy, stained clothes?”
Richard followed Merle into the depths of Old World Tales.
The knight didn’t say a word.
17