Nicolas de Courcy
de Courcy, flat on his back in the carriage, clutches should and spits a quick stream of Aralaise curses through gritted teeth.
Suddenly the Northman is looming over him asking de Courcy to recall someone kind and gone.
His he immediately thinks of his grandmother, Sabine de Courcy, setting his wrist after he fell from a market place rooftop in Sauvons.
His friend Henri had dared de Courcy to grab a merchants banner.
‘I was such a dumb kid, good thing I’m so much smarter now’ he thinks. Despite the pain his lip twitches into a smile and he chuckles to himself.
Hawk mutters something de Courcy can’t understand, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. A soft, almost inaudible voice, whispers in his ear.
“You still do some stupid things, boy. But then if you were smart, you wouldn’t be a de Courcy. Better to regret something than do nothing eh?”
His arm tingling but functioning without pain, he stands and thanks Blue Hawk. Then leans out the side of the carriage to speak to Arron only to find him gone.
“Ce bâtard,” he mutters.
“Ranar, forget the bridge, it’ll be to heavily guarded. And they’ll be expecting it. Head to the narrowest part of the river, we’ll swim across, they won’t expect that,”
He ducks back into the carriage and looks at Morton and Blue Hawk, and quietly says to them.
“I hope one of you two can call on something to help with that… the guards won’t expect it because only mad bastards would try it.”
