Chapter 12 #3
Reis held his gaze for a moment before nodding. He believed him.
Kellan could charm or torture secrets out of nearly anyone. Mirielle had already been questioned enough for a lifetime. Kellan drew hard lines in his craft and Reis knew it.
"I want you to listen."
Kellan's expression grew more serious.
"To what?"
"Anything." Reis looked toward the distant road. "Servants who worked in the palace, merchants who saw her, visitors. Anyone who knew her."
"And if I find something?"
Reis took a long moment to answer.
"I only want you to tell me if my knowing helps her."
Kellan turned fully toward him. "That's a dangerous rule."
"I know."
"What if it's something you deserve to know?"
"I don't care."
"What if it explains her?"
Reis's expression hardened. "I don't care."
Kellan frowned. "Reis—"
"I mean it."
For the first time, Kellan realized this wasn't just curiosity. Reis wanted answers desperately, but he needed her trust more.
"If she tells me herself someday," Reis said quietly, "that's hers to give."
Kellan watched Reis for a moment. "Alright," he said finally, "and if it only hurts?"
"Bury it."
Kellan let out a weary sigh, closed his eyes and nodded.
*
Frost covered the ground, clinging to dirt, twigs and fallen leaves in icy prisms. Snow fell from the sky in a dreamlike rhythm, throwing powder over the forest.
The hamlet had changed in the week since Kellan had arrived. The roof had a thin blanket of snow, and icicles began to form around the windows and under eaves, dripping rivers into the slush below.
Mirielle's strength was returning to her slowly. A short walk left her winded, but her fevers faded. The pain in her ribs had eased and her breathing was deeper.
Reis had bundled Mirielle in his thick cloak and was helping her cross the stony courtyard to a carved bench that sat just near its edge. His grip adjusted every time she faltered, never allowing her to fall when weakness threatened her.
"You can let go now," she murmured quietly.
"You'll fall."
"I will not."
She immediately slipped on a patch of ice. Reis caught her by the waist before she could hit the ground. Mirielle stared at the ice as if it had deeply offended her.
Then the cottage door burst open behind them. "Kellan!" Marta shouted. The sound of his name shouted by Marta was becoming as much a part of the hamlet as snow and smoke. "You'll help load the cart, I won't have ye skippin' chores again!" she hollered.
Kellan appeared from behind the shed with the speed of a man hunted. "I've suffered a tragic injury, I'm afraid," he announced solemnly. "My shoulder is ruined."
"You slept on it wrong," Lettie snapped from the doorway, carrying a sack of herbs behind Marta.
"A crippling condition," Kellan proclaimed with perfect confidence.
"Yesterday you disappeared when you were supposed to be chopping wood."
"I was scouting."
"You were hiding in the hayloft."
"Strategic positioning," he said, raising a finger in the air.
Hank snorted from his shelter.
Mirielle covered her mouth, poorly disguising a laugh. Reis looked down at her, watching the smile that had returned these past few days.
Gerald came forward, pulling a small, shaggy pony with a protruding belly. A proud smile stretched across his face, and there was an unmistakable skip in his step as he brought him forward.
"I named him Goat," he gleamed.
Nobody laughed.
"Because he's small like a goat." He looked around the courtyard as if waiting for someone to break out in laughter.
Goat looked very disappointed.
"We know, Gerald, you've told us six times this week."
Gerald looked at Reis. "You think it's funny, right?"
"No."
"I laughed the first time," Kellan volunteered.
"You did not," Lettie scolded.
"Internally."
"That doesn't count."
Kay came from behind the workshop carrying an empty barrel. "You sure you're going to be alright alone with this lot, Lettie?"
"I think I can survive a few weeks without my overbearing brother, don't ye worry about me, Kay." Lettie waved absently as she returned inside.
Kay stared at the empty doorway looking mildly hurt.
"Don't worry, Kay, I'll take care of her," Kellan announced.
"Aye, that's what I'm worried about."
Kay tightened the last strap across the cart while Marta gave a final inspection, making sure that the buckets, sacks of mushrooms, barrels and iron tools wouldn't fall out. Then they both took their respective seats.
Gerald climbed into the driver's seat as if he were the king and not Reis. "Heiya, Goat!" he shouted. Goat didn't budge.
"Forward!"
Goat turned his head and nipped at the cart. Marta pinched the bridge of her nose.
Kay took the reins from Gerald's hands and gave them a single quick snap.
Goat began walking with the enthusiasm of an animal disappointed by humanity.
"Farewell!" Gerald said, waving his hands. "If I perish, tell them Goat carried me valiantly to my death!"
Goat sneezed.
"Kellan!" Lettie shouted from inside Marta's cottage.
"I swear, it's targeted harassment," Kellan declared as he stalked towards the sound of an angry woman.