The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [81]
Rowan, the young bard comes. He’s upset.
He’s back? Finally!
Indeed, and he’s spitting mad. Watch out.
The Sword Master looked over his shoulder. He didn’t see anyone on the darkening path, but that was no surprise. Scylla would have warned him the moment the lad set out from the dorms.
‘Thanks for the tip,’ he said, entering the welcome sanctuary of his lodge. He quickly put away his thoughts of Nellion Paree and stoked the fire. He’d heat bath water and bathe here, make some food, have a peaceful night.
Within minutes, there was a knock at the door.
‘Sword Master?’ he heard the bard call out. ‘I have that ballad ready, if you’d care to hear it now.’
The door opened and Clay looked him in the eye for a moment before pulling his guitar from his back.
‘Thank you, Clay. Let’s hear it.’
An’ Lawrence ushered him into his lodge and shut the door. He waited a moment before speaking, sizing up the lad. He looked haggard and drawn, his red ringlets lank, dark circles under his eyes.
‘Rough trip?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘You look like you’ve been dragged through the underworld to get here.’
‘I think I have.’
‘What took you so long?’ An’ Lawrence crossed his arms. ‘I said get to Lividica and back before the new moon. It’s nearly full.’
‘I ran into some trouble.’ Clay sat down and started fingerpicking a soft melody while he spoke.
‘What happened?’
‘You got the message from Clawdia?’
‘Of course, weeks ago.’
‘Then you know, if it’s true, her name isn’t Rosette de Santo.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘It’s possible she’s the daughter of the Matosh family…the one they say was murdered six years ago.’
‘I realise that. How reliable was your source? It could be just gossip. Maybe she worked on the estate?’
‘The way she rides? The way she carries herself? I don’t think she was a stable-girl or kitchen hand, do you? Besides, she fits the description of the youngest daughter, Kalindi Matosh. She fits it perfectly…’
‘If so, she’s keeping quite a secret.’
‘Wouldn’t you, if your family had been murdered?’
An’ Lawrence frowned. ‘I wonder what else she’s hiding…’
Clay exhaled, making a low whistling sound. ‘Good question. Do you think she even knows Nellion Paree?’
He ignored the query. ‘Tell me what trouble detained you?’
‘I never got a good look.’
‘You were followed?’
‘I’m not sure. It felt like it.’
‘Felt like it?’
‘It was a presence more than a being. Ominous. An awareness of some kind.’ He shook his head. ‘I never saw it, but I’m sure it was tracking me. I didn’t want to lead it back to Treeon so I circled north to Morzone—where I was meant to be in the first place—and played a few nights there before coming back.’
‘Smart. And it didn’t follow?’
‘I lost it in the foothills of the Prietas. Or it lost interest in me. I don’t know which.’
‘Good work. You did well.’ An’ Lawrence reached for a coin jar on the top kitchen shelf.
‘Forget it,’ Clay said when the Sword Master started counting out gold pieces. ‘I made more than a wage on this journey.’ He stopped playing for a moment. ‘I can’t do this any more, An’ Lawrence. I’m done.’
‘What?’
‘I can’t spy on her, lie to her. Find out things about the past I can never verify. It’s eating me up inside. It’s ruining our…our friendship.’
‘Friendship?’ he asked, the smile gone from his face.
‘It’s ruining everything.’
An’ Lawrence rubbed his jaw, looking at Clay from a different angle. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not ruining things. Your information gathering is protecting her. You can’t stop now.’
‘I can and I will.’
An’ Lawrence put the money jar away and straightened his spine.
‘If you want to quit, you’ll be banished. Have you considered that? You’ll never see her again. I can’t risk her finding out, especially now. Do you understand what that means?’
Clay levelled his eyes on the Sword Master. ‘I’ve a pretty good idea.’
‘Is that what you want?’
Clay looked at the floor and