The Ferryman - Book 1

Chapter 69:

A Message for Correb

In the evening Lt. Grotte shuffled through the door, pressing a wet rag to a swollen bump on her forehead.

She pulled herself across the room and landed unsteadily in her chair by the stove.

After a moment of catching her breath, Lt. Grotte sniffed the air and looked over at a loaf of rye bread baking in the oven, and creamy salmon soup steaming on the stove that Moth hovered over with a long wooden spoon.

Lt. Grotte removed the rag from her head to see the food better, then around at the empty room. “Where’s Nehem?”

Moth winced. “Ah, well – the snow broke through your roof. There was a leak, but Nehem’s working on it. He’s got it covered and he’s sawing some wood for a patch.”

Lt. Grotte raised her eyebrows – with difficulty, as the knot was just over her left eye. She relaxed, kicked off her shoes, and sunk into her familiar and padded chair. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Thank you for letting me stay at your house.”

Half closing her eyes, Lt. Grotte said quietly, “Not used to coming home and finding my work done for me. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad we’re not a burden. But what happened to you, Sabine? Are you alright?”

“Oh, aye. I just hate training new sentries. They don’t know how to handle a quarterstaff no matter how much I yell.” She replaced the cold rag back on her head.

“New sentries?”

“Mm. Apparently the farmers are in a tizzy about your arrival and politicking. The captain was strongarmed by the other lieutenants – namely Idil – to request backup. Of course, in the dirt guard, nothings of any quality, so they sent us a bunch of half-trained demoted outpost guards from Tanwuce.”

Moth swallowed and stared down into the pot of soup as she stirred.

“Where’s Feldar?” asked Lt. Grotte.

“He’s gone on an errand for me.”

Lt. Grotte nodded. Briefly she looked at the empty hope chest by the front door, but she didn’t seem to realize it was a new addition to her house.

Moth had decided she wasn’t going to tell anyone about the skin unless she needed to.

Nehem came in from outside, looking queasy from being so high up on a roof and ladder all day, and sat heavily by the table.

“Fixing my roof, are you?” asked Lt. Grotte, grinning. “I tell you I fall more in love with Hevweds day by day – best guests I could ever hope for. How big was the hole? What’ve you done for a patch?”

Shy though Nehem was, he was beginning to warm up to Lt. Grotte and trickle by trickle he explained what had happened and what he had done to help – as they talked, Moth pulled the rye bread from the oven, doled out helpings of salmon soup, and served everyone with a satisfied smile as they hungrily stuffed the food down.

When Lt. Grotte, now fed and with a bottle of wine, was contentedly sinking deeper into her chair, Nehem broached the topic.

“What will your schedule look like this week?”

Lt. Grotte closed her eyes and groaned lightly. “More training. I’m no good at teaching, I don’t know why the captain forces me to do it – probably so he has an exscuse to sleep in all day. Lazy ass.”

Scratching his neck, which was turning a deeper red as he lied, Nehem said, “Theres a great deal of work to be done on the farm this week. Dad needs my help, and I don’t want Mere left here alone.”

“Norwin needs your help?” exclaimed Lt. Grotte, reverently, turning her eyes heavenward at the mention of his name. “God, do whatever that man wants. I’ll call in some sick days – any excuse to worm out of training those idiots. If I keep getting walloped with oak staves, I’m going to commit some act that’ll land me back in Shamshackle.”

She chuckled at her own joke, but then the thought of returning there caused a somber silence from her, and she drank heavily from her bottle. After a minute, she added, “I wont be able to take the time off for another two days though.”

Moth made eye contact with Nehem. He’d only have seven days to do a six day journey, to get the sunstones here in time for the farmers gathering on Sunday. Nehem let out a breath but nodded back to her.

“You should take Aggo. He’d help on the farm,” Moth said pointedly.

Nehem agreed. He was lost in thought as he planned how he would accomplish the goal.

“Oh, and Sabine, I was going to be having a…a tinner gathering here in two days. I hope that’s alright – you did say to have any meetings here, didn’t you?”

“Aye, that’s fine. I’ll tell the captain tomorrow. How many do you think will show up? Theres some chairs and such tucked away in the spare room if you need it.”

Moth calculated in her head. “Maybe four dozen people? We’ll be outside though, so we won’t need chairs.”

“Four dozen?” asked Lt. Grotte sleepily. “Politicking again?”

There was noise in the grove, and the sound continued up to the porch as Feldar came in through the door. Tiredly, he sat at the table and gestured to Moth to get him food, taking off his shoes and removing his coat.

Moth set the soup and bread in front of him, and as he ate he rummaged in his pockets and returned the gold coins to her.

“Was there no honey to buy?” Moth exclaimed.

Feldar, chewing hungrily, jerked his head towards the front door, and Moth looked onto the porch and saw two dozen, massive pots of honey. She stared at it and then looked back at him.

“Uko Halig was selling honey in town. When I told him it was for you, he gave me his entire stock,” said Feldar. He sounded irritated. “I tried to pay him, but he said the blessing was worth more.”

Moth was touched by their generosity, but under Feldar’s gaze she felt horribly guilty. But then, she remembered something more important, and exclaimed, “How is he? His eyes?”

“He’s blind now.” Feldar leaned back in his chair. “How do you know about that?”

“And Laurotte?” Moth demanded, alarmed. “Did she survive?”

Feldar watched her. After a moment, he answered quietly. “No.”

Covering her mouth, Moth left the house.

The grove was large and peaceful, the sound of melting snow sounding like rain as it dripped from the pine boughs onto the soft ground. The snowdrops were blooming energetically, but Moth could not receive any of its beauty.

She sat by the maghouse, where Nehem had placed a bench for her.

Magpies swarmed around her, as they always did now, and the one who Moth had begun calling Nokk sat on her knee and chirped sadly at her. Moth gently took him and held him.

“Because she offered me, she lost a daughter, and the eyesight of her remaining children. Why would she give me honey?” Moth asked them, and the magpies ruffled their feathers, not understanding. Moth bowed her head, too numb to think or feel much.

She began to wonder if she had already met one of the people who had attacked the Halig’s. Had they gathered around her when she first arrived in Okatto? Had they been with the shamans yesterday? Would they be here tomorrow with a fog-touched hand, looking for help?

The idea made her angry. She didn’t want to accidentally help someone who had robbed the Halig’s of eyesight.

She was reminded of Correb’s agonizing night, lamenting over helping Hiren and benefitting the cruel people who lived in its borders.

Her mind lingered for a long time on Correb, and his warning words. She sighed.

She had to think about those she loved who would be helped.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at the magpies, who all puffed up and stirred when she turned her eyes on them, focusing on Nokk.

“Could you deliver a message to Lord Correb for me?” she asked.

Nokk shook his head. “Stay,” he croaked. He poked her sleeve with his beak and reiterated, “Moth.”

“You need to stay with me?” Moth asked, a mixture of disappointed and pleased.

He nodded.

A different magpie, an enormous female, hopped forward and chirruped loudly at her.

Moth glanced at Nokk who nodded. “Oh, thank you!” Moth said, relieved. “Can you take a long message?”

“Big,” she said, proudly, fluffing herself out.

Thinking carefully and picking few words, Moth said, “Would you tell Lord Correb this: I have found a skin that is shaped like a human. It feels like it’s from the marches, and it won’t burn. What do I do with it?”

Inhaling deeply, the magpie recited the message back to her – in her own uncertain voice – and Moth nodded. “That’s it, thank you. You’re very clever.”

The magpie stared blankly at her.

“You’re very big,” she said, trying another compliment it might understand.

Stretching her wings marvelously to glint in the sun, the magpie burst up into the air with the dignity of the message she carried, and swooped off to deliver it to the marches.