Strength of Fate - 7. Chapter Seven

After months of planning, hard work, and travel, Nathan and Brohm now felt antsy having nothing to do. They spent many of those empty days talking about the incident with Tarn, finally allowing Nathan to accept it and move on. He hoped Tarn would be the last person—at least the last innocent person—he’d need to murder.

The spare time allowed them to move their belongings from the apartment into the guildhouse, finally calling it home. Brohm spent a great deal of time outside, chopping down trees from the edge of the ravine to feed the hearths. Nathan tried to help, but found himself getting in the way, and decided to leave him to it.

Brohm didn’t seem to mind either way. “Nothing much beats a hard day’s work,” he’d told Nathan one evening. He’d always arrive wet from the snow and sweat, and despite wearing gloves, splinters would mar his hands. Regardless, he’d always walk in with a satisfied grin on his face. Nathan was sure to have plenty of hot bath water ready, for which Brohm was always appreciative. Come nighttime, he assumed the big man would be dead on his feet, but Brohm was often ready for some fun between the sheets. Of course, after that—his energy reserves finally spent—he’d snore up a storm.

A letter arrived by courier a few days later, announcing Hobb was behind schedule to start work on the smithy.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Brohm said. “He seemed like a busy guy. Anyway, reckon they’d have a tough time building a smithy with all that snow outside. I don’t see why they don’t just wait until spring.”

“They must know what they’re doing.”

“Yuh, but we’re footing the bill, remember? Probably gonna cost extra—”

“You hear that?” Nathan asked.

Brohm cocked his head. “Sounds like horses.”

A knock at the door came before Nathan could look out the front window, and he opened it to reveal a tall man bundled in layers.

“Can I help you?” Nathan asked.

“Iain Cauldwell,” he said in a bitter tone, letting himself in. “I’m your bookkeeper.”

“Wait, what?” Nathan asked.

Iain drilled him with an iron stare. “This is the new Adventurer’s Guild, is it not? Millsfield branch?”

“Yeah. Sorry, we just assumed we’d get notice before anyone’s arrival.”

“I trust you can take me in.”

“Of course. Uh, where’s your stuff?”

“The driver is bringing it up. Be sure to pay him.”

Nathan stepped outside to find the buggy driver struggling with a massive chest. He rushed to his aid, and the two managed their way back inside, stepping into an argument between Iain and Brohm.

“What do you mean there’s no food?” Iain said.

The big man flashed Nathan an angry glance before replying. “Neither of us are good in the kitchen. We just eat at taverns.”

“What kind of branch is this? You don’t have someone working the kitchen?”

Nathan stepped up. “You’re the first of our staff to arrive. I guess it just worked out that way.”

“Shaw, you idiot,” Iain mumbled under his breath.

“What about him?”

“He arranged this blasted transfer. Pulled me from a comfortable arrangement. In a city. Civilized. Now, I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

The driver returned with the rest of Iain’s belongings, and Nathan handed him some coin.

“A right whiner that one is,” the driver whispered to him. “Good luck to you.”

Nathan gave him a few more coins for his troubles and ushered him out, closing the door against the cold. The common room was silent, but Iain appeared ready to explode.

“We’ll show you to your quarters,” Nathan said, motioning to Brohm to help him with the chest.

They led him to the second floor, explaining he could have the room of his choice. Instead of exploring, he pointed to the nearest door from the stairs.

“This will do fine,” he said while entering the room.

They followed, placing the chest in a corner. While Brohm went to get more of his belongings, Nathan pulled Iain aside.

“Listen, I get you’re not happy with the transfer, but it does no one any good to get upset. We’ll do our best to make sure the transition is a smooth one, alright?”

Iain rolled his eyes, but a glimmer of reason shone through. “Very well. I . . . apologize for my demeanour. I’ll admit I’m tired from the trip. Nearly a fortnight on a cold and wet ship hasn’t helped my mood.”

“Where’d you come from?”

“The city of Dalton. Travelled north along the western shores to get here.”

Brohm appeared in the doorway, encumbered by bags and boxes. “How about a little help, yuh?”

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Iain’s arrival broke the dam. Within a few days, a steady stream of new arrivals appeared at their doorstep. Leah and Edgard arrived as a team, providing much-needed joy to the empty guildhouse. Leah, petite and beaming with energy, was ecstatic as soon as she stepped into the common room.

“Oh, this place is huge,” she said, her long locks of hair bouncing as she hopped in excitement. “Edgard, look at that hearth.”

Her companion—a stout man with round, ruddy cheeks—was their new cook. After a brief introduction, he asked to see the kitchen, and it only took a moment before he uttered a grunt of approval.

“Once the larders are stocked, you’ll never be hungry again,” he stated with a grin.

Leah worked alongside Edgard to run the front of the house. The two were inseparable, to the point of choosing rooms next to each other. Brohm revelled in the enthusiasm they spread, and—no surprise to Nathan—became fast friends with Edgard. His jovial nature spread over to Brohm, which in turn made Nathan happy.

The only person who didn’t appreciate them was Iain. While he remained relatively neutral toward Edgard, likely due to the delicious meals he whipped up with ease, Leah’s squeaky voice always soured his expression. As a result, he often hid in his office to arrange the financial affairs of the guildhouse—at least that’s what he said he was doing. It didn’t matter. The less interaction people had with Iain, the better it was for everyone involved.

Zoe, the blacksmith, arrived a week later. Nathan couldn’t decide what he thought of her. She was pleasant and friendly to everyone, however it was obviously a chore for her. In many ways, she was Leah’s opposite, including her short hair. Of course, given her vocation, having short hair made sense.

One sunny afternoon, Nathan caught a glimpse of Zoe in the backyard field through a second-floor window. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her out there. From behind him, lumbering footsteps broke his thoughts.

“Hey l’il buddy, what you doing?”

“Zoe’s out there again.”

Brohm joined his side and peered through the window. “Just exploring, I reckon.”

“It feels like she’s not happy here.”

Brohm wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. “Just give her some time to adjust. If she’s still glum, reckon there’s no harm to ask and make sure she’s alright.” He gave Nathan a squeeze to change the subject. “Anyway, Edgard told me he’s got some goodies ready to eat.”

Nathan rubbed Brohm’s belly and gave him a sly grin. “Seems you two have hit it off.”

“Yuh, a match made by the gods,” he said, chuckling.

They made their way to the kitchen, finding Leah and Edgard sampling bite-sized cakes.

“Sid, you gotta try ’em,” Leah said.

He rushed ahead of Nathan and popped one in his mouth, followed by an inappropriate moan. “Edgard . . . these are—”

“Delicious!” Leah exclaimed, pinching the cook’s cheek.

Edgard, his red face deepening in colour, laughed gently. Nathan sampled one from the tray, enjoying the sweet and savoury delight.

“You have a real gift,” he said.

“Damn right he does, boss,” Leah said, biting into another.

“Can you keep it down?” came Iain’s voice from the closed office door adjoining the kitchen. “Some of us are trying to work.”

Leah raised an eyebrow. “That guy. What’s his deal?” she whispered.

Nobody had an answer.

“Well, I can’t take it anymore.”

She picked up the tray and knocked on the door. “Oh, Iain,” she said in a sickly melodic voice. “I have something for you.”

The door opened in a flash, and Leah raised the tray dangerously close to Iain’s face.

“These’ll make you feel better,” she said.

Iain stepped back to focus on what had nearly struck him in the face, and for a brief moment, his angry demeanour softened. After a breath of hesitation, he delicately helped himself to a morsel.

“Thank you, Leah, Edgard,” he said in a calm voice. “Now please, respectfully, I ask that you keep your voices down to a reasonable level.”

Nathan nodded. “Sorry about th—”

A voice from the front room interrupted him. “Hello? Anyone here?”

Nathan and Brohm, with the rest of the crew in tow, stepped through the door to find a man holding his hat.

“Is this the Adventurer’s Guild?” he asked.

“It is,” Nathan said. “Can we help you?”

“I’ve been searching for help all day. The town guard? Useless. Even the militia ain’t willing to help. They told me about this place. Please, I—”

“Whoa, slow down. Take a seat and let’s talk about your problem.”

The man accepted his offer and sat at one of the tables. Nathan and Brohm joined him while the rest stood by the bar, openly eavesdropping.

“I ’preciate it. Name’s Darren. I’m a farmer from ’cross town.”

Nathan and Brohm introduced themselves.

Darren nodded in greeting and continued. “It’s my livestock, my cattle. Nearly all’s been butchered.”

“Wolves, you reckon?” Brohm asked.

“I don’t rightly know. The barn looks like a slaughterhouse. Blood’s everywhere. Never seen anything like it.”

“And you’d like us to investigate?” Nathan asked.

“That’s right. If it’s animals, they need to be put down. If men did this, I want justice.”

Nathan looked over to Brohm. “Shaw wasn’t kidding when he said a branch was needed here. We don’t even have members or a job board up yet, and work’s already arrived.”

Darren glanced nervously at them. “Are you not able to help?”

Nathan raised a hand to calm him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. Sid and I will take care of it for you.”

Relieved, the farmer stood up and headed for the door. “Light’s wastin’. I’ll show you the mess.”

“Whoa,” Iain interjected. “We should discuss the cost for our services.”

“Oh, good point,” Nathan said. “Sorry. Give us a moment, Darren.”

He motioned Brohm and Iain into the kitchen so they could speak privately.

“You’re the money guy,” Nathan said. “How much?”

Iain pondered with a finger to his chin. “Obviously, there’s the unknown element. We’re unsure who or what we’re dealing with. For the sake of simplicity, call it ten silver.”

Brohm scratched the back of his head. “Yuh? Reckon that’s a bit low.”

Iain stood pleasantly surprised by Brohm’s comment. “Very well. How does fifteen sound?”

Brohm nodded, and they stepped back into the common room to state their price to Darren.

“Yes, that’s fine. Now please, let’s get going.”

They dressed hastily for the cold weather and armed themselves—Brohm tightening his sword belt and Nathan strapping on his dagger. The farmer appeared gratified they meant business. As they approached the stables, Zoe called out from beyond the guildhouse.

“Where you guys headed?”

“Farmer’s livestock was killed,” Brohm said. “We’re off to check it out.”

“Need help?”

“Yuh. Reckon more help’s always good. Where’s your blade?”

She jogged toward the guildhouse entrance. “Let me fetch it. I’ll only be a moment.”

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Upon reaching the farmer’s property, Darren led them to a barn a fair distance from his house. A trail of something heavy being dragged led from the barn exit into the woods nearby. Streaks of blood marred the virgin snow. The scene inside was much worse than Nathan could’ve expected. Frozen gore covered the ground, making for uneven footing. Blood splattered the walls. Cow carcasses were strewn about—some intact, others ripped apart in brutal fashion. Nathan had witnessed violence throughout his life, but nothing as savage as the display before him. While there was no sign of tracks or footprints, he was certain no animal did this.

“Darren, do you have any enemies?” he asked while they retreated from the barn.

The farmer shrugged. “I live a simple life. I’ve no time to make enemies.”

“Okay, you head back home,” Brohm said. “We’ll follow the trail.”

Darren wished them well as they trudged into the woods. While the trail of blood gradually diminished, the heavy carcass dragged through the snow left a clear imprint to follow. Unfortunately, it also obscured any footprints to give Nathan a clue how many people were involved.

“Who would do such a thing?” Zoe mused. “How disturbed would you need to be?”

“Dunno,” Brohm said, huffing from the exertion of walking through the deep snow. “Anyway, it feels good to be outside, yuh? Even if it means hunting some crazed cow killers.”

Nathan chuckled in spite of himself. “You really know how to lighten the mood.”

Brohm looked back with a confused frown. “What’d I say?”

Zoe managed to crack a smile, then pointed ahead at a large outcropping of rock. The trail headed into the mouth of a small cavern.

“Of course it had to be a cave,” Brohm mumbled.

“What’s wrong with caves?” Zoe asked.

“He’s had some bad experiences with small spaces,” Nathan said, patting Brohm’s shoulder.

Red-faced, Brohm shrugged his hand away. “It’s no problem.”

Nathan knew that was a flat-out lie, but didn’t want to embarrass him further. Pulling their blades free, they snuck up to the entrance. Silence greeted them. Nathan motioned for them to stand guard, and bent over to step into the black maw. Keeping a cautious pace, he traversed the jagged stone bedrock, allowing time for his eyes to adjust. After ten metres of ponderous advance, he stopped to listen. Silence remained.

He sheathed his dagger and briefly glanced back toward the entrance. Brohm peered in, his shape silhouetted against the overcast sky. Nathan continued into the dark, only to slip on the uneven floor and land painfully with a grunt. The noise roused something from deeper within. A foreign language spoken in the high voice of the child, but twisted with malice. One voice brought another, then more still. Goosebumps covered Nathan’s skin, and he immediately turned back, clawing at the ground to gain purchase.

“We’ve got company.”

“Get outta there!” the big man yelled.

Cackling, inhuman laughter echoed from the dark, approaching closer with each passing moment. Nathan scrambled on his hands and knees for fear of bashing his head against the roof of the cave, but his advance wasn’t swift enough to escape whatever horror lurked in the gloom. The laughter didn’t echo anymore. Whatever chased him was scant metres away.

Near panic, he pulled his dagger free and turned to face them. Short figures, their wet skin shiny in the dark, ran at him. As soon as one was within reach, he thrust his dagger at its chest. It howled in pain, falling to one side, and the others skittered back in defence. Nathan took the opportunity to crawl backward toward the light, but their caution was short-lived, forcing him to swing his blade wildly to keep them at bay.

Brohm grabbed him from behind and pulled him out of the hole to his feet. Finally out of the dark, Nathan gained his wits and stumbled away from the cave, taking Brohm and Zoe with him.

“What are they?” Zoe asked.

“I’ve no idea. I think I killed one, though.”

They turned to find four squat, naked creatures emerging from the darkness. Sinewy yet spindly forms with pale-green skin. One nearest to them flashed a wicked grin—a frightening display of pointed teeth. Two others scampered up the rock face and lunged at Nathan baring clawed hands. He managed to push one off, but the other hung on, trying to bite his neck. His dagger sank into the creature’s side. It squealed an unearthly scream and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Meanwhile, Brohm and Zoe swung their swords ineffectually. Their broad swipes were too sluggish to hit the remaining creatures, only managing to keep them on the defensive. Once the creatures were cornered against the rock face, Brohm lunged ahead to close the space and swung, only to miss again as they climbed out of reach. Brohm growled in frustration and fell back to Nathan’s position.

“I can’t hit ’em.”

“They lower their guard when they attack,” Nathan said. “Let them come to you.”

Upon reaching the top of the cliff, the creatures spoke briefly in their bizarre tongue.

“Come on, you little shits. Get down here!” Brohm yelled.

They hissed in return, then scampered out of sight.

“We can’t let them get away,” Zoe said.

They gave chase, scaling the five-metre rock cliff, but the creatures were nowhere in sight once they reached the top.

Nathan pointed to footprints in the snow. “There. Follow those tracks.”

They led into denser woods, haphazard in their direction but ultimately away from the cave entrance. Then abruptly, the trail ended. Nathan caught sight of claw marks on the nearest tree, and immediately knew it was too late to react. The creatures leapt from their perch, crashing down onto the three of them. Nathan fell over from the impact, dazed. The creature attacking Brohm bounced off and landed on his feet, wasting no time to run in and strike again. Despite being caught off-guard, Brohm swung true, managing to cut the head off the creature as it leapt at him. Zoe successfully sidestepped her attacker, dispatching it with ease.

A painful bite on Nathan’s arm broke his dazed state. He grabbed the creature’s thin neck in an attempt to free himself, but this had the opposite effect—sinking its teeth deeper into his flesh. Searing pain spiked through his arm, and he dug wildly through the snow with his free hand, trying to find his dagger. Brohm rushed over and thrust his blade into the creature’s torso. It spasmed but held its bite, chuckling devilishly as it coughed black blood onto Nathan’s arm, causing the pain to intensify.

“This thing won’t let go,” Nathan said through clenched teeth.

Brohm knelt down and gripped its head and jaw, forcing the mouth open. Once free of Nathan’s arm, Brohm savagely twisted the creature’s neck, ending its sickly laugh. Nathan held his injured arm gingerly, waiting for the pain to subside. Zoe joined his side.

“What’s the damage,” Brohm said. “Let me pull back your sleeve.”

“I’ve never felt anything this painful before—augh!”

The slightest touch brought lightning arcs of pain from his arm into his neck and chest. Brohm, not wanting to hurt him further, held still.

“We need to get you to a healer,” Zoe said.

Brohm nodded, brows knitted in worry.

“Just give me a minute. Help me find my dagger. I dropped it.”

Brohm dug into the snow and found it, then slipped it into Nathan’s sheath.

“I’m gonna go get help,” he said.

“No, no. I’ll be fine. As long as I hold my arm still, it’s not too bad.”

Zoe glanced over at the fallen creatures. “What were those things?”

Nathan shook his head. “We should definitely report this to the guild.”

“Yuh. But what do we say to the farmer? If we tell the truth, word’ll spread, and I reckon by week’s end, fear’ll take the town.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Nathan said. “If there’s more of those monsters about, it’s better to have folks wary.”

“Why don’t we send a courier with a message to headquarters in Croydon and ask for some advice,” Zoe said. “You wanted to report it, anyway.”

Brohm nodded. “Yuh, good idea.”

Nathan didn’t like it. Nearly a fortnight would pass before they’d receive a letter back, but without a better idea to suggest, he nodded as well.

“You ready to move?” Brohm asked.

“I think so,” Nathan said, carefully rising to his feet.

The shooting pain was nearly gone, replaced by a steady throbbing. Brohm led the way, trudging through the snow back to the cave. Zoe took up the rear, dragging the three creatures by their legs. She considered it prudent to hide the bodies. It would’ve been best to bury them, but without a shovel, the next best option was to drag them back into the cave, out of view.

Brohm asked Zoe to watch over Nathan while he hid the bodies. Given his claustrophobia, it surprised Nathan to have him offer such a job. He’d never succeeded in narrowing down a reason why Brohm was so frightened of small spaces. During their time together, he’d managed to help him control it to a degree, but Brohm’s anxiety always remained at the periphery. Every time he’d bring it up, Brohm would abruptly change the topic. Not wanting to make the big man uncomfortable, he never pushed the issue.

“How’s it feeling?” Zoe asked.

Nathan grimaced as he sat against a tree trunk, trying to hold his arm still. “Not great. Help me get my mind off it?”

“You want me to tell you a story?” she asked with a smirk.

He chuckled, but immediately regretted it as a jolt of pain shot into his chest again. “Everything okay with you at the guildhouse?”

“Sure, why do you ask?”

“It’s just . . . you seem a little distant.”

“I do?”

“I’ve seen you outside a lot, alone. You seem to have a lot on your mind.”

Zoe appeared vexed. “Oh, I didn’t realize I was being watched—”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just want to make sure everyone in the guildhouse is settling in okay.”

“Honestly, I’ve just been bored. Things have been slow since my smithy isn’t built yet. As for my walks, I enjoy quiet time alone. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“No, of course not.”

Grunts echoed from Brohm’s direction, and Zoe rose to investigate.

“It’s best to leave him to it,” Nathan said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I embarrassed him earlier about the cave thing. I think he’s trying to prove a point.”

Brohm’s work was laborious. With a sword drawn in one hand and the leg of a creature in the other, he’d managed to pile the bodies fifteen metres into the cavern. The grey skies had darkened by the time he’d finished the task, and they headed back to the farm as quickly as Nathan could manage. Soon, the barn came into view.

“You two go to the horses,” Brohm said. “I’ll talk to the farmer.”

Nathan and Zoe did so and watched from afar. Brohm spoke briefly, then the farmer handed him a small pouch and they shook hands.

“What’d you tell him?” Nathan asked once Brohm had returned.

“Rabid wolves, and that we took care of ’em.”

“You think he believed you?” Zoe asked.

Brohm shrugged. “He didn’t seem to care. He just seemed glad we dealt with it.”

“Here’s hoping there’s not more of those things out there,” Nathan said, glancing back at the woods.

Brohm helped him into his saddle. “I don’t care what you say. We’re going to a healer.”

Zoe scoffed. “Of course we are. That bite looks terrible.”

Nathan didn’t want to fight both of them and sighed in resignation. “Do we even know where to find one?”

“Let’s just head to the Barrel,” Brohm said. “The barkeep’ll know.”

As Brohm suspected, the owner of the Green Barrel did know of a healer named Lorne, living on the outskirts of town. He pointed them southward and wished them a safe journey.

Evening was upon them by the time they were on their way. Cold winds bit their faces once they left the protection of the narrow streets. They approached a thicket of conifers, and fought their way through snow drifts. The healer’s home, a small hut, was in good repair, and warm firelight glowed from one window, beckoning them.

Brohm dismounted and gently knocked on the door. “Hullo?”

“Who is it?” a concerned elderly voice on the other side answered.

“Uhm, you don’t know me. My name’s Sid. I have a friend here who needs your help. He’s been bit by a wolf.”

The door opened a crack, and the man’s face appeared.

“I have coin for your time,” Brohm said.

The man considered them for only a moment before opening the door wider. “Very well. Quickly, come inside. The name’s Lorne.”

Zoe helped Nathan off his horse and they entered. Lorne gathered a few lit candles and placed them on a table near the fireplace.

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he said. “Come on over, boy. Let’s see the wound.”

Nathan sat, hesitating before removing his coat to reveal a shirt sleeve caked with dry blood.

“This’ll likely sting,” Lorne said.

He pulled up the sleeve, and Nathan sucked in air through bared teeth. The multitude of tiny holes oozed blood and—more concerning—thick pus.

“I’ve seen many bites in my day,” Lorne said, pointing at Nathan’s arm. “This wasn’t caused by a wolf.”

Nathan shared a brief glance with his companions.

The healer continued. “You shouldn’t have waited so long. It’s quite infected.”

“What?” Nathan said. “It only happened a few hours ago.”

Lorne scoffed. “Judging by what I’m seeing here, this wound is well over two days old. Look at the swelling of the skin, the redness here.”

Lorne hobbled to a cupboard, collecting medical supplies.

“There’s a jug of water and basin over there,” he said, pointing. “Could you fetch that?”

Zoe did so while Brohm stood at Nathan’s side with a comforting hand on his shoulder. Lorne fell to the task of cleaning the wound. It wasn’t gentle, but certainly thorough. Nathan grimaced through the pain.

“So are you going to tell me what really happened?” Lorne asked.

“Honestly, we can’t really say what it was,” Brohm said. “You’re right, though. It wasn’t a wolf.”

“Care to describe it?”

“It had a lot of teeth,” Zoe said.

Lorne glanced up from his work with a raised eyebrow. “That much is obvious.” He abandoned his questioning and applied a poultice, wrapping it up with bandages. “Let this do its work. Leave it until morning and clean the wound again. If you get a fever, come see me again.”

Nathan gently pulled down his sleeve. “Thanks for your help.”

Brohm produced a few coins and handed them to the old man. He nodded in thanks and led them to the door.

“Be more careful next time,” he said, opening the door.

They were met with blowing snow, and they shielded their faces from the onslaught.

“C’mon, l’il buddy,” Brohm said as he helped Nathan onto his horse. “Let’s get you home, fed, and tucked into bed.”

 

 

◆ ◆ ◆

 

 

Nathan woke the next morning to find the poultice had done its job. The skin around his injury was tender, but had regained a healthier colour. With Brohm’s help, they cleaned the wound and wrapped it with clean bandages. A knock came at the door, and Brohm opened it to find Leah carrying a breakfast tray.

“Morning,” she muttered, rushing past him to Nathan sitting in bed. “Whitter, I was worried about you all night. Are you feeling better?”

Nathan offered a weak smile. “Yeah, I’ll live. What’s all this?”

She beamed a smile. “I had Edgard cook up a hearty meal to help you recover. Eggs, bacon, sausage. A big pot of tea. I picked up fresh bread from the baker just this morning, too.”

Nathan’s eyes widened at the massive feast before him. Brohm reached out for a strip of bacon, but Leah slapped his hand away.

“That’s not for you.”

Brohm visibly wilted before her. “But . . . I’m hungry, too.”

“There’s lots left down in the kitchen.”

“You could’ve brought me a plate, yuh?”

“You’re not injured like the boss. Your legs work, don’t they?”

Nathan chuckled at the two of them. This wasn’t the first time he’d caught them teasing each other, and had he not known, he would’ve assumed they were siblings.

“Sid, help yourself. I can’t eat all this,” Nathan said.

“You’re not hungry?” Leah asked.

“This is a lot of food.”

She considered the tray’s contents and let out a tiny giggle. “I guess you’re right.”

“Thanks, Leah. Be sure to thank Edgard, too.”

She beamed another smile and left them to their breakfast. Afterward, Brohm and Leah insisted Nathan rest in bed for the day. He suggested they were overreacting, but both were resolute in their stance. The weather was foul—cold winds and heavy snow—and he decided a day of rest wasn’t a bad idea after all, so he kept the fire in the bedroom stoked and napped under the warm covers.

After dinner, Edgard, Iain, and Zoe retired to their quarters. Leah, ever tireless, finished some last-minute cleaning at the tables. Nathan and Brohm sat by the hearth in the common area, listening to the howling winds outside.

“I wrote that report and gave it to a courier today,” Brohm said. “Hopefully we’ll hear back from Shaw soon.”

Nathan nodded, absentmindedly smoothing the bandage on his arm. From time to time, pain would spike up to his neck and chest, but he considered it best not to tell Brohm. It would only worry him.

A gentle knock came from the front door. At first, Nathan considered it wind rattling the windows, but then it repeated itself, louder this time.

“Did you hear that?” Leah asked.

“Yuh. Someone at the door,” Brohm said.

“In this weather? Are they mad?”

She flopped a rag over her shoulder and rushed to answer the door. Standing under the protection of the veranda was a hunched man. He brushed snow off his heavy cloak as he spoke to Leah.

“Whitter, it’s for you,” she said. “His name is Cormac.”

Nathan rose from his seat in surprise.

“Who?” Brohm said.

Nathan spoke under his breath. “This guy helped me home that night I was drunk out of my mind.”

“What are you talking about?” Brohm asked.

“After we had that fight . . . about Tarn.” Nathan approached them. “Please let him in.”

Leah ushered Cormac out of the cold and closed the door. He pulled back his hood to reveal a face neither Nathan nor Brohm were expecting.

“It’s you!” Brohm growled.

Standing before them was the beggar who had called out to them in the street. The beggar with fearful eyes.

“Yes, I saw the truth in you,” he said. “In both of you.”

Brohm stepped forward. “Yuh, you said that last time—”

“But after meeting and speaking with Whitter, I questioned what I saw.”

Brohm huffed. “Enough of your riddles, old man. Leave!”

“In this storm?” Leah exclaimed.

Cormac held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Please understand. ’Tis only my want to help you—”

“We don’t need your help!” Brohm said.

“To help you overcome your immoral ways.”

Brohm balled up his fists. “What?”

Witnessing the big man’s rage caused Leah to inadvertently sidle up against Cormac in fear. Nathan jumped in the middle and held Brohm with his good arm, backing him away. “Whoa, calm down. Let’s just take a breath and figure out what all this is about.”

Brohm, jaw clenched, gave Nathan a withering scowl. They spoke in hushed whispers. “I don’t trust this guy.”

“He’s a monk. He helped me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Nathan shook his head. “It didn’t seem important. I didn’t know it was him. I never saw his face.”

Brohm stood unconvinced.

“The least we can do is hear him out,” Nathan continued softly. He didn’t know why, but he felt this was important. A gut feeling he couldn’t explain.

Brohm glared at Cormac, then back to Nathan. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Nathan nodded his understanding. “Thank you.” He turned around and gestured for Cormac to sit down at a table. “Leah, could you get our guest something to eat, please?”

She stood stunned a moment before finally speaking. “Uh, sure.”

Nathan joined Cormac, with Brohm reluctantly in tow. The big man fell into the chair dramatically, sitting slumped, fingers tapping impatiently on the table.

“Cormac, could you explain in plain words what you’ve been saying?” Nathan asked.

“Of course. ’Tis not my purpose to confuse you, or anger your friend. To put it plainly, I see a person’s intent, their aura. Both of you emit an aura of deceit and lies. Death follows you.”

Brohm leaned forward. “You’re not winning me over. What’s your point?”

“I sense Whitter wishes to change this. You? Perhaps not so much.”

“You’re right. I’m thinking of murder right now,” Brohm mumbled.

Leah came through the door from the kitchen with a plate of food, leftovers from their evening meal.

“I didn’t know what you’d like to drink, but I figured hot tea on a night like this would work,” she said.

Cormac stood and bowed graciously. “You are an angel sent by the gods. I thank you.”

Leah, preoccupied by Brohm’s angry stare, presented a forced smile.

“Could you prepare a room?” Nathan asked. “Cormac will be staying the night.”

She tore her attention away from Brohm, nodded, then headed upstairs.

Once she was out of earshot, Nathan spoke. “Where were we?”

“Murder,” Brohm said.

Nathan ignored him. “You see people’s aura. Okay. How can that help us?”

“’Tis not my gift that will help you. ’Tis my guidance, if you’ll allow me.”

“Why do you want to help us?” Brohm asked.

“I’ve devoted my life to the gods, and to help my fellow man. Before me, I see pain. I wish to free you of that.”

“And in return?”

“In return, all I ask is room and board.”

Brohm scoffed. “And there’s the real reason you want to help us. To help yourself.”

“I don’t deny that. Perhaps if you saw this as a trade?”

“I’m not agreeing to anything yet,” Brohm said. “We need to talk about this.”

“Of course.”

After Cormac finished his meal and was shown his room, Nathan headed back down to the common room to find Brohm tossing another log into the hearth.

“I still don’t trust that guy.”

“He might be a bit weird, but it seems like he genuinely wants to help,” Nathan said.

“But how can he help us? Yuh, the truth is we’ve killed lots of people. We’ve lied to more. Do I like it? No, ’course not.” Brohm sighed. “It’s just how it is, and I can’t see how this guy can make that go away.”

“But what if he could?”

Brohm threw his arms in the air. “How?”

“I don’t know, but if we don’t give him a chance, we’ll never know.”

Brohm fell silent, and Nathan touched his arm.

“I know in wanting to change, I’ve made mistakes,” Nathan said. “Tarn was a big mistake. But this feels different.”

“Maybe.”

“Do you really think Cormac will be a problem for us? He already seems to know our past, but instead of persecuting, he’s willing to help.”

Brohm took in his words before speaking. “I just don’t know if I want to take that risk. If this ends poorly, it’s more blood on our hands.”

“We don’t need to end someone’s life to solve our problems.”

“Reckon that’s the only way I know how,” Brohm mumbled.

Unsure how to respond, Nathan gazed at his feet.

“But I’m so tired of killing,” Brohm whispered.

Nathan took his hand and squeezed tight. “I am, too.”

They sat in silence for a time before Brohm rose from his seat. “Let’s go to bed.”

“I’ve been sleeping all day. I’ll join you later?”

Brohm nodded and lumbered upstairs.

Mesmerized by the flames, Nathan pondered deeply about their future. A fantasy of freedom he yearned for. Doubts clouded his mind, questioning whether they’d successfully barred their past deeds from haunting them yet again. Nothing specific came forward, but he wasn’t ready to let wishful thinking lower his guard. Light footsteps descended the stairwell, breaking his concentration. He turned to find Leah standing on the bottom step.

“I figured you’d be asleep by now,” he said.

“Just came down for a snack.”

She stood at the base of the stairs, a troubled look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Can we speak a moment?”

Nathan gestured to the chair beside him. She padded over and sat in silence, hands nervously tapping against her leg.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated.

Finally, she looked into his eyes. “I never thought Sid could be so angry. It scared me.”

“Oh . . .”

“I always thought he was a harmless teddy bear.”

“Most of the time, he is,” Nathan said with a smile.

She appeared unconvinced. “But who was that man, Cormac? Why did he say those things about you? Something about immoral ways—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he blurted. “There’s no reason to be afraid of Sid. Yes, he can get angry sometimes, but you’d have to do something pretty terrible to have that anger directed at you.”

“Like what?”

Nathan grimaced inwardly. Risk their lives by doing something stupid, he thought. “I can’t think of anything. He likes you, Leah. We all do. You’re a bright ray of sunshine in this place.”

Even in the low light, her reddening face was apparent.

“Please don’t be frightened by him. There’s no need.”

She nodded slightly and rose from her seat. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

She stepped into the kitchen and returned with a sweet roll Edgard had baked earlier that day. After offering a meek wave, she headed back upstairs. He continued to watch the flames slowly diminish, wincing as a stab of pain shot up his arm again. Curiously, the stinging didn’t originate at the wound, but instead further up his aim. As quickly as it came, it disappeared again.

Finding himself nodding off, he decided to retire to the bedroom. Brohm was snoring, fast asleep. Nathan quietly removed his boots and undressed. He slipped between the sheets next to Brohm, whose warmth made for a comfortable transition from the cool air. Careful not to wake him, Nathan snuggled up and wrapped his good arm across his belly.

Mere minutes passed before he was sound asleep.