I gathered my arms in close, folding them over and gripping opposite elbows painfully in effort not to swing at his cobblestone expression.
Barely containing a strident squawk of frustration, I warbled, "Keeping the wood safe is all I have. And you would deprive me of even that. Why?"
No expression. No answer. Moments later, the vibrating hilt of my dirk sang against the mortar directly above and to the right of his shield-arm. Throwing it had been a visceral reaction to his lack of action. My aim was wicked. And he did not so much as bat an eyelash.
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