Page 130 of Bride of Mist
As the maidservant turned the key in the lock, Gellir caught her sleeve.
Her quick intake of breath made him instantly release her again, though something in her face said she wished he hadn’t.
“Those two men upstairs who spoke to you,” he murmured. “Who are they?”
“N-nobody.” She lowered her eyes.
“Don’t go to them,” he entreated.
“I’m a servant,” she mumbled. “I don’t have a choice.”
He clenched his jaw. “Youalwayshave a choice.” He could see his emphatic tone frightened her, so he softened his voice. “What’s your name?”
“Merraid.”
“Merraid,” he repeated. “How old are ye, Merraid?”
“Ten and five.”
He bit out an oath that made her flinch. What kind of monsters bedded a wide-eyed lass half their age? The thought sickened him, making him want to drive a dagger through their hearts.
“They’re swine,” he said. “They mean you nothing but harm. You stay clear of them. Promise me.Promiseme.”
She looked at him now with a dazzled sort of adoration, as if he’d asked her to promise him her heart. “I promise.”
“Good.” He nodded, satisfied. “Because I can’t carry off this deceit if I’m fretting over what might be happening to you.”
She gave him a wobbly smile, a smile that would sustain him over the long and frustrating night ahead.
Chapter 32
“Wait!” Fergus called out from the hearth as the pair of filthy rat-catchers slunk toward the doors of the great hall. “Where are ye goin’?”
They froze.
The short one bobbed his head and replied, “We’re all finished, sir.”
“Ye’re sure ye got them all?” Morris asked.
“Och aye,” the lad replied, hefting up a hemp bag as proof. “Quicker than cats we are.”
“Because if I spot a single rat…” Morris threatened.
“Och nay, sir.”
“Where’s the redheaded lass gone?” Fergus asked.
The lad shrugged. “She bade us get rid of these straightaway.”
Fergus squinted at the tall rat-catcher, the one who wasn’t speaking. “What’s wrong with him?”
Fergus saw the man’s shoulders tense.
“He’s a mute,” the short one said.
Fergus frowned. Perhaps that explained the disquiet he felt, looking at the shrouded rat-catcher. He seemed different somehow, more threatening. But then Fergus had never gotten a good look at the man to begin with, since his face was hidden by that tattered hood.
After a long scowl, he waved them away.
