Chapter 88 - Eighty Eight
The carriage clattered through the dark, empty streets of the city, the sound of the horses’ hooves echoing like an agitated heartbeat. Inside, Eric sat stiffly, his hands clenched into tight fists, his gaze scanning every dark alleyway, every shadowed corner they passed.
They stopped by each post, at every point where a patrolling watchman stood with his lantern, a lonely point of light in the vast darkness.
"Have you seen a young woman?" Eric would ask, his voice tight with a desperate urgency. He would lean out the carriage window, his eyes pleading. "She has long, dark curly hair, and the most striking blue eyes you have ever seen. She was wearing a pale blue dress. Have you seen her?"
Again and again, the answer was the same. A shake of the head, a sympathetic but unhelpful look. "No, Your Grace. Haven’t seen anyone like that tonight."
With each denial, Eric’s fear grew, a cold, heavy stone in the pit of his stomach. Mr. Rye would urge the horses on, and the desperate search would continue.
They got to another checkpoint near the edge of the city, where two watchmen stood together, sharing a bit of warmth from a small brazier.
"Good evening, my good sirs," Eric called out, his voice now hoarse from repeating the same question all night.
The watchmen, surprised by the grand carriage stopping for them, returned his greeting without recognizing him. "Good evening, My Lord."
One of them, an older, more cautious man, spoke up. "You shouldn’t be out and about by this time, My Lord. The city is not safe after the moon is high."
"Yes, I know," Eric responded, his patience wearing thin. "I am looking for someone. A young lady."