reilly felt bad abut leaving johnny behind in his escape from the diner, in his haste to get away from the mean looking gorilla who looked he’s bash his face in as soon as look at him.
he moved away, a couple of doorways down, and waited. if the gorilla threw johnny out on the street, which reilly expected him to do any minute, he would at least try to help johnny out, get him on his feet and away -
away where? the snow was really coming down now and reilly wasn’t sure where to go himself.
the misson over on twentieth - or was it twenty-first - down by the river. a little place, not always open, a lot of bums didn’t even know it was there, it would be worth a try.
but then a car came along and pulled up and a big guy in an expensive looking topcoat got out of it and went onto the diner.
still no johnny getting tossed out. maybe they threw him out the back?
reilly was just about to give up - he had ben a good guy, waited to do the right thing, but he couldn’t wait forever - when the gorilla came out, dragging johnny by the heels.
he dragged him two doors down, in the opposite direction from where reilly was lurking, left him there, and then hurried back into the diner. the gorilla hadn’t even looked reilly’s way.
when reilly got to johnny, he was just starting to come to, and was trying to get to his feet.
reilly helped him up. “come on, i know a place we can go. where i think we can go. can you walk?”
johnny didn’t answer, but started staggering away. as it was the right direction to the mission that might or might or might not be there, reilly followed him.
reily grabbed johnny’s arm to make sure he didn’t fall down.
johnny was mumbling to himself. words that sounded like “pal… greatest pal a guy ever had… st peter…”
they headed into the wind and snow.
*
*there it is,” said reilly. “just like i told you.”
a castle loomed above them. they could see a small fire burning in a room on the ground floor.
a watchman came out, brandishing a pike at them.
“who goes there?”
“a couple of weary travelers,” reilly shouted, “ seeking shelter.”
the watchman considered. his face was hidden under a black cloak. “shelter, but no alms.”
“agreed.” the two travelers followed the watchman into the castle. the room with the fire was just inside the door.
reilly noticed a small leather flask beside the fire. “just a touch of grog, perhaps”. he asked the watchman.
“not a bit of it,” the watchman replied, sitting down beside the fire. “no alms means no alms. what be your names?”
“patrick, my name is patrick. and my companion here is jonathon, known as jonathon the mad.”
“yes, he looks quite addled.” the watchman took a heavy black poker and stirred the fire with it. “came ye to join the baron?”
“the baron. i know nought of any baron.”
“he is moving out on the morn, if this storm abates, to assault the gray keep. he can always use jackals, if ye care to join him. ye must get your own food, of course.”
“we will consider it. it is very kind of you to make the offer.”
“t’is the baron’s offer, none of mine.”
the two travelers edged closer to the fire, steam flowing from their wet cloaks.
14. into the storm
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