AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sit and have hot cider with me,” Snow offered.
Nettle sat and added more cider to Snow’s tankard and filled a tankard for herself.
“This is a treat. I never get to sit and enjoy a hot cider,” Nettle said. “So tell me, did you see the two dead men? Do you know either one?”
There was no pretense to Nettle, she was who she was and Snow liked that about her.
“One man was a friend and belonged to my clan,” Snow said.
“I’m so sorry. I will offer a prayer for him,” Nettle said.
Snow heard the genuine sympathy in her voice and it was comforting. “I appreciate that, Nettle.”
“You didn’t know the other man?” Nettle asked.
Snow shook her head, then stopped. “I don’t believe so, but then no one detailed his features to me. Although Rannock made mention of a painted image on one of the man’s arms.”
“One like Lord Tarass’s?”
“Lord Tarass’s arm holds a painted image?”
“A crude blue arrow runs on the inside of his forearm, from the fold to the wrist. It can be seen clearly when his sleeve is rolled up or when he’s bare-chested. Naturally, I asked someone about it and was told that the arrow depicts one of the sacred ruin symbols of the heathen barbarians. It’s often worn on their shields when they go into battle. It supposedly represents victory. Maybe that’s why Lord Tarass is so victorious.”
The image Nettle had painted of the arrow made Snow realize just how strongly Tarass had embraced his mother’s heritage. It made her wonder if the dead man had been the one Tarass was supposed to meet with and he didn’t want it known or perhaps he didn’t know the identity of the man.
“Did Rannock detail the painted image for you?” Nettle asked.
Snow thought it best she didn’t tell Nettle that Tarass forbid it.
“No, he didn’t.”
“I could detail it for you and describe the man,” Nettle offered.
Her offer was far too tempting. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
Nettle laughed. “I’m always in trouble no matter what I do.” She lowered her voice. “We can be quick. We’ll be there and back before anyone knows we’re gone. And I’ll make sure to tell one or two of the servants here that we go to Runa since your wound pains you. We can stop there after seeing the bodies.”
Snow couldn’t help but smile. “You remind me of my sister Sorrell. That would be just the thing she would do.”
“And would you go with her?”
“Absolutely,” Snow said and stood.
Thaw roused himself from where he lay sleeping at Snow’s feet.
“We go on an adventure, Thaw,” Snow said and the pup barked.
Nettle was true to her word, letting a couple of the servants know they were going to see Runa should anyone ask. And she kept a quick pace as she kept hold of Snow’s arm and hurried her through the village, Thaw keeping close to Snow.
When the pace slowed, Snow understood they neared the hut.
“A body is being carried out,” Nettle whispered.
“I think that would be Finn. He’s probably being prepared for the journey home.”
“Bless his soul,” Nettle said with a bob of her head. “It’s the perfect time to sneak in. No one guards the hut.”
“Then let’s hurry,” Snow said and looked down where a blur of gray sat against her leg. “You wait outside, Thaw, and let us know if anyone comes this way.” She had to tell him again when he went to enter the hut with them. “Guard, I won’t be long.”
Nettle began detailing the dead man as soon as they entered. “He has height to him and is thick in size, long brown hair, fair features, nothing that distinguishes except for his nose. It’s crooked, probably broken a time or two. His garments are like those Lord Tarass wears when he dons his mother’s peoples’ dress.”
“Is there a headdress of an animal laying nearby?”
“No,” Nettle said after looking around.
“The painted image,” Snow reminded.
“Oh my goodness,” Nettle said. “The markings are all over his arm and up the side of his neck. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought the markings would be crude, but they’re quite beautiful. A skillful hand certainly had to have done such an intricate design, though I have no idea what it all represents.”
“We better go,” Snow said and Nettle agreed, taking her arm and leading her out of the hut.
“Good Lord,” Nettle whispered as she directed Snow around something.
“What’s wrong?”
“Lord Tarass is in the distance and he stopped when he saw you. He now heads this way.”
“Are we close to Runa’s cottage?”
“Not at all,” Nettle said.
Fear trembled the young woman’s voice and Snow felt bad that she was the cause of it.
“He’s looking straight at us,” Nettle warned.
“Then we stay where we are and I will do the talking.”
“What are you doing here in this area when I was told you were in pain and needed to see Runa?” Tarass demanded.
