At the gates to the Keenan estate, he saluted the single guard keeping watch.

“Morning,” Torgar said.

“Not for four more hours.”

Torgar grinned.

“Aren’t we picky?”

The guard looked him over.

“You’re early. And where’s your sword?”

“On loan. Care to let me through?”

Drunk or not, Torgar was still the boss, and the guard begrudgingly turned and unlocked the gate.

“Take the servants’ entrance at least,” the guard said. “Lady Madelyn’s getting tired of you waking her up.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Torgar said, heading straight for the front doors. Halfway across the expansive lawn he began singing a tune, butchering half the lyrics but not caring. When he put his hand on the door handle, he stopped and sighed. Laurie’s son, Taras, slept not far from main entrance, and he’d been having a devil of a time catching winks because of his newborn. Madelyn could rot for all he cared, but he’d always had a soft spot for Taras.

“Fine,” he said, thudding his head against the thick wood of the door. “You owe me, bud.”

He left the main path and walked the worn dirt track around the mansion. Compared to their first home in Veldaren, it wasn’t nearly as large, but it housed over fifty members of the family, plus guards and servants. Torgar spotted a couple hiding behind a tree, no doubt a guard and a maidservant having themselves a good time. He resumed singing to startle them, and grinned while imagining their surprise. Something seemed wrong about it, though, and he looked back just before turning a corner.

Neither was moving.

“Gods damn it,” he muttered, trying to think through his pounding head. “Asleep, right? Just asleep.”