Gallowglass stood near the dock and looked around. The berth that had played host to Ghale’s defense of his master’s property was quiet, and other than a few beggars, there was no one around. The bloodstains were still in evidence, and if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could smell a whiff of gunpowder.
An unlit cigarette hung from her lips, and she lifted the satchel she’d brought with her. Inside, a skinny hen, neck freshly wrung, lay atop a few odds and ends. She removed the hen...