Page 123 of The Washwoman at the River’s End

“Phillip.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You think it's no trouble to guard the Washwoman?” I ask.

“Well, it would be if we were allowed to see her. We were given direct orders. Leave the Washwoman alone. Be here, in case you need our help and⁠—”

“Report my every move back to the Cutter,” I say, folding my hands and leaning on the table. I smile like it's a joke, but they stiffen, their eyes darting between one another.

“Of course not,” Bradley says. “We're simply meant to be available should you need us. It's been quite fun, actually.”

He's a terrible liar. All of them are. Bradley looks to the left while the man who hasn't shared his name fiddles with the buttons on his uniform.

“Och, I'm only joking, lads,” I say, slapping Bradley on the arm a little too hard. “There would be nothing to tell. Though I could use your help.”

They lean forward, intrigued.

“Keep your ears out for information. I'm sure Cailleach told you the Washwoman cannae be killed. The village is afraid of her, but they talk about her often. Write down what you hear them say. Anything at all about her.”

“We can do that," Philip says eagerly, appearing grateful I've moved on from my accusation of them spying.

The man to my left drops his voice low. “Are there any ceatharnaich here?” he asks, eyes darting around excitedly.

Bradley laughs. “That’s Jamie. Ignore him. He's bored. He doesnae like to drink, and doesnae like the lasses, either. There’s not been much to do here other than that.”

I force a laugh even though I find his bright-eyed question repulsive. Why would he wish for there to be ceatharnaich? So he could execute them to pass the time?

“Sorry to disappoint you, but no. There are no ceatharnaich here. I've been watching the people here for weeks. It's just a small town with villagers whose biggest concern is putting food on the table and staying safe from the Washwoman.” I stand. “Now, keep your ears out for me. I need to speak with the barkeep about replenishing supplies.”

They nod, turning to one another and going back to their knucklebones. I keep one ear on their conversation, but can only hear bits and pieces.

“Washwoman.”

“She’ll want to know.”

And then a relieved voice. “Didnae come back early.”

Good. Let them tell her I followed her rules. Garrick will corroborate it.

I take a seat at the bar, and after a few moments, Anna approaches, giving me a broad smile. Her bruises are gone, and her face appears less gaunt, as if she’d had a few good meals since leaving.

“It’s nice to see you again. Can I get you anything?” she asks.

I return her smile. “No, I’m here to speak with Theo. You look well. How are the bairns?”

Her eyes light up. “Happiest they’ve ever been. Theo has been letting Billy help with odds and ends around here. Giving him a purpose. It’s done wonders.”

“Aye. It’s good for children to learn responsibility,” I nod, thinking of my siblings.

“You speak as if you know first hand. Do you have children?” she asks, wiping the counter.

“No. I have younger siblings, though, back home in Vengach.”

Theo appears, carrying a box down the stairs. He lets loose a breath when he sees me, relief settling over his features. Anna nods at me, moving on to tend to a patron at the other end of the bar.

“Brennen. Havenae seen you in a while. I was starting to worry,” he says, and I force a laugh.

“Took an unexpected trip to visit my family,” I say, glad that he, too, can confirm that I didnae defy the Cutter’s orders.

“Here for supplies?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the guardians seated behind me.