Six - Ranulf
“Do you wantme to show you the blackberry patch now?” I asked Scarlette as we finished breakfast.
Last night, I had discovered that I didn’t like her silences. They weren’t natural. Scarlette was meant to smile and talk and, most of all, ask questions. If I answered with single words, she stopped asking, folding in on herself. So, I answered. I answered fully, not wanting to dim her radiance.
I discovered that talking to Scarlette didn’t require me to pretend. So long as I talked to her, she didn’t care if I grumbled. She didn’t accuse me of being unfeeling or ask if I knew how to smile. Perhaps because with Scarlette I didn’t need to smile. I laughed.
It was dangerous, my shields cracking from the inside, but I’d repair those cracks. I knew what was coming and could protect myself. I’d be prepared.
“That would be perfect. I think I saw a basket in the guest room that is the right size. Let me grab it.”
I waited for her by the back door and led her out through the garden. The basket swung wildly from her arm with every step as she practically skipped at my side.
“You are going to leave a trail of blackberries on the forest floor and discover an empty basket when you return to the cottage if you keep that up.”
Scarlette laughed. “I’ll be more careful once the basket is full, but right now I’m too happy to care. The forest is so beautiful. I’ll miss it when I return home.”
An inevitability. A reminder that these moments with Scarlette were just that: moments, nothing more. Did she understand that, too?
“I never understood how my mother and sister could stand to leave,” I told her. In case that wasn’t warning enough, I added, “I love living out here.”
Scarlette’s smile grew impish. “I’m sure your desire to stay here has nothing to do with a dislike of dealing with strangers constantly, either.”
“True. But I still think I’d rather live in one of the forest villages than an isolated home away from the forest.”
She laughed. “You’d hate where I live. No trees, a few hundred nosy neighbors, and we are close enough to the capital that there are always travelers passing through. Solitude and nature are foreign concepts there.”
“How can nature be a foreign concept? Surely you have farms?”
Scarlette shrugged. “A farm is nothing like this. It’s not even a big garden. At least not the farms near Graenod. The farmland is just acre upon acre of wheat, barley, and corn.”
We arrived at the blackberry patch, and I plucked a plump berry from a bush. Sweet juice, with just the right amount of tartness, burst upon my tongue. “Why stay?”
I spoke casually, but my need to hear her answer was anything but casual. How strong were her ties to her home? I couldn’t lie to myself that I didn’t know why I cared, but at the same time, her answer didn’t matter. If she was devoted to her village, then she’d never consider living anywhere else. If she wasn’t, then what guarantee was there that she wouldn’t leave her next home, too?
There was no answer that would make me happy, so why had I even asked the question?
Scarlette paused with a berry halfway to her mouth. “Where else would I go? Mother and I have a home and jobs. The city would be even worse, and other villages wouldn’t have a need for us. We aren’t skilled at any particular craft. Mother mends and washes, and I serve drinks in a tavern.”
I frowned. That was what Scarlette spent her days doing back home? What a waste. “You are a skilled baker. Exceptionally organized and industrious. You should be able to make a home for yourself anywhere.”
“Thank you.” She dropped the berry into her basket and began picking more. “Things aren’t that easy, however. Opening a bakery would require finding a place where people would pay for bread and don’t already have access to it, then enough money to buy the building and ovens and everything else. I could probably find a job in another tavern, but any tavern that needed extra help would probably be no better than where I already work, and I’d have to find a new place to live. I’d lose money I don’t have trying to transition.”
For the first time, I wondered what her journey to Drakona Forest had cost Scarlette. I knew that only the truly desperate came all the way to the cottage, but I had forgotten somehow. Scarlette was just so happy; it was hard to remember that she couldn’t even afford a basic healing charm, that she had come to beg for charity on the advice of my sister. The journey would have cost her. Not only for food and a bed every night, but it meant days away from her job in that tavern.
Every day she remained in the forest cost her, even now that I was letting her stay in the cottage.
Ward shield me, sending her back to Wulfkin after she first showed up at my door had been cruel.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I should head back and work on your charm. Will you be able to find your way back to the cottage?”
She glanced over at me, surprised by my abrupt change of topic. “I can follow the path back. Thank you for showing me the way.”
I nodded, then pivoted and made my way back to the cottage. I thought I had seen a hint of disappointment mixed in with the surprise, but I had to be imagining it. Scarlette wouldn’t be disappointed that I was going back. She was desperate for the charm to save her mother. It was the only reason she was here.
She must be relieved that I wasn’t wasting any more time.
Scarlette stayed awayuntil noon. Filling her basket wouldn’t have taken that long, so she must have decided that her presence in the cottage would do more harm than good. I wouldn’t tell her that her absence had been nearly as distracting as her presence the morning before. I didn’t want her to worry about the charm.
She didn’t need to worry. I wasn’t about to let anything stop me from making the most powerful healing charm I could, not even myself. I was mentally and magically exhausted by the time Scarlette returned, having channeled the node’s power in greater quantities than I had ever before dared. When I was done, this charm would have enough magic to keep the growth of her mother’s tumor in check for decades.
Scarlette entered the cottage from the garden door and set her basket on the kitchen counter. I rose, slipping the charm into the drawer of the small table by the chair, and stretched. My stomach growled loud enough to be heard across the cottage.
Scarlette smiled at me, then glanced at the fireplace and the expression slid right off her face. “Oh, no. I forgot to put the soup on before I left to pick berries.”
“It’s fine.”
She didn’t hear me. “I’ll get something started. I’m so sorry. You must be hungry and it won’t be ready—”
“Scarlette.” When I said her name, she froze. “It’s fine. We have half a loaf of bread and hard-boiled eggs and cheese in the chill box. You don’t need to make soup.”
She was practically quivering, the need to be helpful a physical force pushing at her.
Giving her something to do would work better than insisting she didn’t need to do anything. “Why don’t you pick some lettuce and a few vegetables? We can throw together a salad.”
She leapt out the door and into the garden. I sighed and gathered the rest of the food. Then I mixed together a bit of oil and vinegar in a large bowl. When Scarlette returned with her skirt full of vegetables, I almost laughed. “How much salad do you think we can eat?”
She glared at me, and I did laugh.
“Most of this is for supper. I want to get it over the fire as soon as possible.”
I took the lettuce from her, rinsed it and shredded it over the bowl. “After we eat. Let’s focus on one meal at a time.”
She chopped a carrot and a few radishes and tossed them on top of the lettuce. I mixed everything together and brought it to the table. Scarlette gave the remaining vegetables one last lingering look, then joined me.
“I’m going to check Grandmother’s traps this afternoon,” I told Scarlette as we ate. “I need a break from magic before I work more on your charm. It’s coming along well. Are there any wild ingredients I should look for while I’m out?”
“Mushrooms would be nice.”
“I think I can manage that.”
A loud banging on the door made us both jump. It wasn’t a knock, but a demand. Instinctively, I glanced at the summons stones hanging from a leather thong around my neck. Neither glowed. Whatever the emergency, the villagers didn’t need healing, or one of the stones would have glowed, telling me which village needed help.
Scarlette was on her way to the door. I raced ahead of her and grabbed the doorknob. I swung the door open. “What?”
The open door revealed a man who didn’t bother to hide his impatience, as though I was the one inconveniencing him. Perhaps a few years older than me, he wore his brown hair tied back at the nape of his neck, his face clean-shaven, and his sense of superiority in the jut of his chin.
It was too much to expect a second surprise visitor to be anything like Scarlette. At least I wouldn’t feel guilty sending this one on his way. I noticed the chain mail hauberk, sword, hunting knife, and crossbow he wore and revised my opinion. The dragon-hunter. Not only would I not feel guilty, I’d take great pleasure being as rude to him as possible.
“I heard there is a guest room available at this cottage. I need to rent it for the next few nights.”
“You heard wrong.” I swung the door closed, but he put out his arm, stopping it halfway.
“I can pay well.”
“Good for you. I’m sure the innkeeper at Wulfkin appreciates your coin. Now leave.”
At my side, blocked from the hunter’s view by the door, Scarlette frowned. Ward shield me, I knew exactly what she was thinking. She thought I was refusing a paying guest because she was using the room. I glared at her, willing her not to step into view and offer her bed to the huntsman. It didn’t matter that there were still empty beds in the cottage. I didn’t want the hunter here.
The hunter pushed against the door, but I held it steady, not letting it swing so much as an inch wider.
“Let me talk to the old woman. I’m sure I can make her see reason.”
“Are you threatening my grandmother?” I wished I was in dragon form for a moment, wanting to tower over this bastard and let out a belch of smoke in his face. I couldn’t breathe fire, like the true dragons, but I did exhale smoke when agitated in dragon form.
Maybe avoiding the man was the wrong strategy. Ward only knew how long he’d remain in the forest, hunting. If I let him see me, on the other hand, perhaps I could get rid of him for good.
“I’m trying to make her a wealthy woman, since you don’t seem to understand the value of coin.”
“Ranulf,” Scarlette whispered, placing her hand on my forearm.
If the hunter was at the cottage, I’d be able to avoid him more easily than if I had no idea where he was. And maybe I could lead him away and convince him the dragon he had heard about flew over the Drakona Forest but made its home in the mountains.
Plus, I liked the idea of taking this man’s money. Since Scarlette would no doubt insist on giving up her bed, it only seemed fitting that she get paid for the inconvenience.
I stopped holding the door, sweeping Scarlette back with my arm so she wasn’t hit when it slammed into the wall under the force of the hunter’s continued pressure. The man nearly fell on his face, but he recovered quickly. Then he spotted Scarlette and the look he gave her had me wanting to shove him out once more.
“Let me gather my things. It will only take me a moment to clear out of the guest room,” she announced.
I was fairly certain she only had a single change of clothes, so I wouldn’t have long alone with the hunter. I stepped between him and Scarlette’s retreating figure. “A half silver per night.”
“Outrageous. The finest inn wouldn’t charge so much.”
“I thought you wanted to make my grandmother wealthy.”
“A silver for the week.”
“A silver for four days.”
“Fine.” The huntsman dug into his belt pouch.
“Oh, and don’t even think about touching Scarlette. In fact, don’t even look at her. Understood?”
“If she opts to enjoy my bed instead of yours, that’s her business.”
I snorted. “Like you’d offer her any enjoyment.”
I heard Scarlette’s quick footsteps and turned around.
She looked past me at the huntsman, and while there was a smile on her face, I could tell it was forced. “The room’s all yours,” she told him.
He shoved a coin at me, grabbed his pack and went down the hall. The door slammed closed behind him.
Scarlette bit her lip. “Do you think your grandmother would mind if I borrowed her bed while she is gone?”
“Of course she wouldn’t, but you aren’t sleeping in her room.” I hurried to explain before she leaped to the wrong conclusion. “You can take the attic. I’m not leaving you down here by yourself with the hunter. I’ll sleep in Grandmother’s room.”
Scarlette glanced in the direction of the closed door. Biting her lip, she glanced back at me. “I met Gideon in Wulfkin. I don’t think he’s a danger to me. He’s too obsessed with the dragon he thinks lives in the forest. He only cares about me insofar as I can give him information. Which I can’t.”
“Nevertheless, I’d prefer for you to sleep in the attic.” I didn’t mention what the huntsman had said while Scarlette gathered her things. She was probably right that the man only saw her as a tool, but he wasn’t aware that Scarlette knew nothing about the dragon. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to get information out of her by any means available. I’d simply make sure he didn’t have the chance.
The morning afterthe hunter—Gideon—arrived at the cottage, I was in a foul mood. I hadn’t gotten enough sleep, I knew I couldn’t work on the charm for Scarlette today because I had to lead the hunter toward the mountains, and worst of all, the blackberry pie was gone. When I had retired to Grandmother’s room the night before, there was still a third of the pie remaining. I had heard Gideon get up in the middle of the night, but since he hadn’t gone near the attic stairs, I had let him be. Apparently, he had snuck out to eat the rest of the pie.
Scarlette gave me a nervous look as she kneaded the bread dough. The early hour had not improved my mood. She worked silently, warily. That only made things worse.
“I’m not going to bite your head off if you talk,” I snapped.
She pressed her lips together, and I wanted to curse. Great. Now I was taking my frustration out on her. We had finally reached a balance, and Gideon had thrown me right back into being a surly bastard. Scarlette didn’t deserve my anger.
I looked closer, wondering if an apology would be enough to fix this, and realized she was holding back laughter. I lowered my head onto my arms on the table. “Go ahead, get it out.”
She didn’t laugh, but her voice rang with merriment. “Not a morning person, I take it?”
“I am neither a fan of mornings nor people.”
Her laughter filled the room. “There were plenty of blackberries in that patch. I can make another pie.”
I glanced at her, keeping my head down. She laid a towel over the bread dough and washed her hands. Her hair swayed back and forth as she moved, the locks only contained by her usual kerchief. I focused on her hair, trying not to notice the motion of her hips. Scarlette didn’t stand still. She always seemed to be on the verge of dancing, even when standing in place.
“He’ll just eat this pie, too,” I grumbled.
“I’ll hide it. He’ll never even know it exists.”
“I won’t say no to more pie, but you really don’t have to, Scarlette. And if you go blackberry picking, be careful. I don’t want you to run into the hunter in the forest.”
She brought a mug of steaming tea to the table and set it by my elbow. She paused at my side, and I lifted my head. Scarlette stared at the mug. “You could join me.”
I shook my head, disappointment filling me. “I can’t. I have to go check the traps before the hunter scares off all the game. I’ll be gone most of the day.”
My excuse made little sense, but Scarlette didn’t question it. “I’ll wait until Gideon is well on his way for the day before going out, then.”
I handed her a stick about the width of my thumb and twice as long. I had enchanted it before going to sleep the night before. “Here. I want you to keep this close while the hunter is here—and bring it with you if you go into the forest.”
“You want me to have a stick?” She took it from me and looked it over.
“It’s enchanted. If you pinch the bit near the end where it is flattened on both sides, anyone touching the other end will experience a shock of pain and be momentarily paralyzed.” I hated seeing Scarlette look so sad, so I quickly added, “I’ll work on the charm tonight. I know you need to return home soon.”
Her expression turned even more morose, and I cursed myself for reminding her. This was why I rarely tried to be kind. I just messed it up. I’d rather be a bastard on purpose than by accident.
I drained my mug of tea and stood. “I should go.”
“But you haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“I’ll eat on my way.” I grabbed a hard-boiled egg from the chill box. I couldn’t afford to wait for the bread to bake, anyway. Getting far enough away that I could shift into dragon form without any chance of the huntsman seeing my transformation would take time. But if I wanted him gone for good, I needed to lure him toward the mountains. I paused at the garden door. “Keep that enchantment with you, Scarlette. Gideon ought to spend the day in the forest hunting, but be careful when he is around. I don’t trust him.”
“I still don’t think he has any interest in me.”
I stared at her.
She smiled softly and slipped the stick into her pocket. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”
It would have to do. I couldn’t stay and watch over Scarlette if I wanted to convince the hunter he was wrong about a dragon in the forest. Hopefully, the man would be so impatient to catch his dragon that he’d leave the cottage shortly after waking and Scarlette wouldn’t have to deal with him at all.