Explore "Falconer's Crusade" by Ian Morson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The freezing rain began to tumble out of the darkening sky and urged Falconer into some form of action. He could not stand outside St Frideswide's any longer trying to make the few scraps of information available to him expand into a logical whole. Beke's Inn was to hand and so now perhaps was the time to talk to Master Fyssh. He turned to his right and hurried down the lane, which was already turning to mud in the torrent of water falling from the sky. Squeezing into the shallow doorway of Beke's Inn, he plastered his soaked hair flat on his head and knocked. After a pause he heard a shuffling behind the door but it did not open. He knocked again, more impatiently as water ran down the back of his neck.
‘Who is it? ' the voice piped tremulously, barely audible through the thick oak door.