The ladder didn’t look to be quite straight as Stone rested it haphazardly against the house. Lucas watched as it slid in the snow and lurched somewhat before gaining purchase, and he couldn’t tell if both of the wooden rails were touching the wall at the top.
“Are yousurethis is a good idea?” Lucas slurred.
“Pos-tivy. Rosalindy’s very stubborn. She could lock herself in for a week. Then where would you be? Hmm? Nowhere, that’s where.”
Looking at the ladder again, Lucas was tempted to say “alive” but he was a soldier after all, and a soldier never gave up. “She’s like a French chateau. I have to besiege, conquer and enter.”
“Eugh.” Stone pulled a face. “Thas got too many connotations. She’s like my sister.”
He hadn’t thought of it like that and Lucas laughed loudly, before he was abruptly shushed with a sharp dig in the ribs. “I jus’ wanna talk,” he whispered.
“Hah. Bet you don’t. I saw you sneaking along the hallway last night.”
“Bed was too small.”
Stone’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “Don’t wanna know,” he muttered. “Up you go. I’ll hold it steady.”
“Don’t you think I’m too old to be–”
“Up, up. Faint heart never won fair maiden.”
“A dead man is a useless one,” Lucas mumbled.
“Fortune favours the brave.”
“Second thoughts are even wiser.”
“Expecta bos olim herba.”
Latin had never been Lucas’s forte and he frowned, starting to actually feel quite cold. Stone was looking expectant and he decided he couldn’t fight a dead language, so he slowly started to climb.
When he reached a carved sandstone swag, draped above the ground-floor window, the ladder wobbled precariously, and he finally translated Stone’s Latin proverb.
“Expect a cow where there is grass? What’s that got to do with anything?” he yelled and gingerly turned his head to look down. Stone was dozing, his chin resting on a rung.
“Stone,” he hissed. The ladder slipped as the man’s head jerked, hitting the rung above. “Hold it steady you beetle-headed, bosky fatwit.”
The insult seemed to fix Stone’s concentration and the ladder bedded itself firm for the final ascent. Stone had informed him that all the upper-floor windows could be easily opened by sticking a knife in the gap between sill and frame, and feeling for the catch. This indeed held to be true. He was also told that Rosalind never used the shutters, which thankfully was also correct, as he wasn’t sure he could manage a descent now he was here. He now realised that he was ever so slightly foxed and could no longer remember why this seemed such a good idea whilst seated at the inn.
Opening the window as quietly as possible, he stuck his head through, but all was dark. The ladder shook for a terrifying moment, and so throwing caution to the wind and praying that he had the right room, he threw himself inside.
A loud thump closely followed by a strangled oath woke Rosalind from her slumber, and her heart beat frantically in her chest.
The thump was followed by a clunk and it seemed to be coming from the direction of the window, although it was difficult to tell as she’d drawn the drapes close around the bed tonight to keep the warmth in. Thoughts of that ghoul crossed her mind, but she didn’t think a ghoul would thump or clunk. Were their bodies even solid?
More male cursing reached her ears, and she shrugged – definitely not a ghoul – and although her vocabulary was vast, she’d never heard of some of those words before.
Another thunk was followed by a groan of pain. She stayed where she was. After all, it could be a thief, a very noisy, drunken, clumsy thief…named Lucas.
After a few moments, she realised nothing else was happening; the thief was either sleeping or had knocked himself out, so she pulled aside the drapes and peered into the room. The moon shone through the open window, and indeed it was wide open, letting in a blast of frigid air.
On the floor was a large lump, grey in the leaden light.
Cursing roundly with some of her newly learned oaths, she pulled on a robe and padded to the window, slamming it shut and causing the lump to groan.
Bending down, she manoeuvred the awkward lump as best she could until it was on its back. Eyes gradually opened, and a bleary smile appeared on its face.
“I’m foggy without you,” it said, directing a fragrance of ale at her.
