Page 65 of Bannerless (The Bannerless Saga 1)

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”

“Thank you.”

After he finished, they dressed the body again, and his assistants came back to help move Tomas to the Newhome cellar. Once again, Enid sat with a body in semi-darkness, a lamp for company. Tomas looked shrunken. Older than he ever had. The illness had been short, but it sucked everything out of him. Everything. What would she tell the folk at Plenty? What could she possibly say to them?

He had not been alone. That must be some small piece of comfort.

“What do I do now?” she asked him. Just in case he might answer. Studied his slack face for signs.

How was she ever to bring this news back to Plenty?

“What do I do now?” she murmured again.

The job. They’d uncovered a case of quota violation that had to be dealt with. She still hadn’t learned the circumstances of Sero’s death. She was close—if the two incidents were connected, she might be closer than she knew. She was too close not to finish, then.

She had to do the job.

That was what Tomas would say. But she was fairly sure she couldn’t do it alone.

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and searched his body. Took his pouch with the tranquilizer patches and other odds and ends—a compass, a pocket knife. The clam shell pendant around his neck came with her. An old bronze ring on one finger. She had to work it off—his hand had swollen. But she managed it. He’d want it taken home. Searched the rest of his clothes and pockets, found no other items or artifacts that should be saved. She left his uniform with him—he’d earned it. It was a worthy shroud.

She smoothed his hair back from his head and said goodbye. Goodbye, and thank you.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

When she emerged from the cellar, Dak was waiting for her. Of all people, Dak. Who was lying when he said he hadn’t been near Sero’s shed that morning.

“Enid, are you all right?”

It was none of his business, she thought testily. What did he care? “Not really,” she said softly. “But there’s nothing to be done for it, is there?”

“I’m very sorry. I don’t know if anyone’s said that to you yet, but I’m sorry for your loss.”

She managed a smile. “Thank you.”

“Can we talk?”

This sounded like a prelude to a confession. She walked with him away from the buildings, away from anyone who might be listening. The town around her looked much the same. Nothing had changed, which seemed a travesty.

Dak said softly, “I’ll go with you back to Haven. Whenever you’re ready, say the word. You don’t have to go back alone.”

As if she needed to be looked after. As if she were fragile. He made it sound like he was doing her a favor.

But, yes, something would have to be done. Carry Tomas back to his household so they could take care of him, say their goodbyes. With the solar car she could make it back in a long day’s travel, assuming the sun held out. Clouds were gathering, so it might not. But what a terrible image, her rolling into Haven with a shrouded body stashed in the back of the car. It was kind of Dak, to offer to sit with her through that. Tomas couldn’t lie in the cellar forever. She couldn’t sit in Pasadan forever, wondering what to do next. Dak was only offering the logical next step.

She must have looked so lost.

“Enid?” he prompted. She’d been silent for a long time.

“Yeah. I suppose that’ll have to be done.”

“I just want to help. We can leave as soon as you say the word.”

Her grin felt crooked, painful. “You trying to get rid of me, then? Co

nvenient, sending me off in the middle of an investigation.”

---