Shadows in the Smuggler's Cave

Story So Far

Lira walks silently beside the traveler after hearing their remark on homes. She turns to study their face and states that they have none then lets the matter rest without further comment. The pair ducks beneath a low arch into a wider alley where morning light reaches the stones and Lira adjusts her satchel strap while noting that the mill has left her moving toward something rather than only away. Her stride matches the traveler's more easily than when managing a bad leg alone as the market square opens ahead with the road south beyond it. Lira walks with a slight hitch in her stride and careful placement of her left boot her jaw set tighter than usual though she says nothing about it. The companion angles toward a low building with a stone ledge along its base suggests a midday meal and Lira agrees without argument before lowering herself onto the ledge with one hand braced and her bad leg extended. They share hard biscuit dried meat and salt from the satchel while the warrens continue around them with distant hammer strikes voices coal smoke and cook-fire smells in the cold air. Lira finishes her biscuit as they offer to make a poultice from the remaining infection dressing and yarrow to keep swelling down on her leg speaking low and matter-of-fact. Lira looks at them directly states that they have done this before and agrees to stop properly at a dry spot past the southern gate with a stone wall and overhang where she has sheltered before. She stands tests the leg with a small hip adjustment until steady slings her satchel and begins walking slower than that morning but deliberate with the gate ten minutes ahead through the alleys. They proceed without her offering thanks. Lira lowers herself onto the flat section of the low overhang of pale stone past the gate's shadow and extends her left leg. They mash yarrow root into paste on a flat rock mix it into the infection dressing jar with the salve apply the poultice under her bandaging against the swollen skin below her knee and tie it with the last strip of clean linen. Lira flexes her ankle once and says it is warmer already from the yarrow. She pulls her coat hem down looks east along the road where the bare oaks thin toward the ridge and says she is ready when they are. They push off the wall and fall into step beside Lira on the road east. Lira sets a measured pace with her left boot landing deliberately which they match without comment. After a while Lira states that the poultice is holding and warmer than expected while watching the road ahead like a courier. The oaks thin where the road bends toward the low ridge Dunnholt remains hours off and the first steps are behind them on the clear road. They walk the road in silence as the sun drops behind the ridge and cold sharpens. They angle toward a woodcutter's lean-to set back behind an earthen bank its three timber walls old thatch roof open to the south and central ring of stones holding old ash. Lira steps inside lowers herself onto a timber log against the back wall straightens her left leg and says "Good eye." She pulls her coat tighter looks at the ash ring then at them and states she will sleep properly tonight for the first time in a while. The tinder catches from the flint and a low steady fire is built in the ring of stones inside the lean-to its warmth pushing back the cold from the open south face. Lira is told to rest with no room for negotiation and that the first watch will be taken so she pulls her coat across her shoulders leans against the timber wall and closes her eyes her breathing soon evening out. They settle against the corner post with staff across their knees watching the pale empty road between dark trees as an owl calls once from the oaks. Lira sleeps while they watch the dark the fire holding against the cold. They hear approaching footsteps on the road and smother the fire with dirt then wake Lira with a touch to her shoulder and a signal for silence. Lira nods reaches for the knife in her satchel and moves silently to the earthen bank with her bad leg tucked under her. A hooded figure in a dark coat carrying a pack passes north without slowing or looking toward the lean-to. Lira watches the road and says the passerby is either a traveler or someone who also wishes to remain unseen. The protagonist tells Lira they need another path because the cart trail is too open after crossing powerful people. Lira sheathes her knife and proposes the Low Ridge east of the road which runs parallel through scrub and frost grass before dropping toward Dunnholt from the south though it is slower and harder on her leg. She states they will go east at first light along the ridge line to enter Dunnholt from the field side adding an hour or more since the hooded figure is on the road. Lira waits for the protagonist's agreement while the road lies empty to the north. They nod once to Lira. She sheathes the knife watches the empty road from the earthen bank until satisfied then lies back against the timber wall of the lean-to and closes her eyes. They hold the corner post with staff across their knees through the slow hours until grey light reveals the frost-stiff ground and pale road. Lira wakes already works her satchel buckle states they will reach Low Ridge east off the road before the first bend and stay off the cart track until Dunnholt's roofline shows from the field side tests her left leg with a small tightening around her eyes and says she is ready when they are. Lira nodded and moved east after a hand signal. She led the way off the lean-to into the frost grass with her satchel across her chest while they followed behind carrying a staff and wearing a cloak. They traveled the Low Ridge past an empty road visible from the crest then after roughly an hour Dunnholt's roofline and chimney smoke came into view. Lira slowed at the field's edge said "Still there" stepped onto the field track and walked toward the town. Lira leads them off the frost-grass and onto Dunnholt's main street. She slows in the middle of the street turns to face them with her satchel across her chest and states that the Ridge Road east starts at the far end and her village lies two hours on which she can reach before dark. She adds that they had said they had nowhere else to be. The grain-store worker in the leather apron watches from the doorframe as the millwheel grinds and two low tense voices carry from deeper in the mill district. They listen toward the mill district long enough to confirm two men speaking in low clipped voices then tell Lira they will satisfy their curiosity before moving on. They walk unhurried with staff loose in hand while Lira falls into step behind placing her left boot with care on the packed earth her satchel riding flat and glancing once at the grain store worker. At the mill district's churned earth and grinding millwheel they slow near the Workers' House yard edge close enough to hear raised voices through the shut door and Lira stops beside them coat pulled straight watching the door. They push open the door and cross the threshold with Lira offering a pretext about needing a meal for the road. Inside the room with the long central table Pol the grey-bearded man and Cael the lean man with the jaw scar fall silent at the near end. Pol states that the kitchen is cold and directs them to the barman next door for bread and pottage if they have copper holding the gaze longer than required while Cael watches Lira's empty satchel with its loose buckle before looking at the floor. The hearth pops once as the millwheel continues grinding outside. They gesture toward the bench. Lira moves to it braces one hand on the table edge lowers herself and extends her left leg slightly beneath the bench. They pull out the next seat sit with an involuntary groan and set their staff against the table. Pol Cael Lira and they remain seated by the hearth with the millwheel grinding outside; Pol keeps his hands flat on the table while watching Cael stares at the floor with his jaw scar visible and Pol states that bread and pottage is next door before glancing at Lira's empty satchel. Pol holds their gaze hands flat on the table shoulders shifting as if setting down a weight. He states they heard him outside and assumes they owe him but they reply that he did them a favor by speaking out there. Pol recounts Cael's report of a cart carrying his grain sacks going over the Ridge Road drop two nights past after movement in the scrub above notes the untouched miller's receipt on the table claiming arrival and questions whether Cael tells the truth or was paid to keep him from pressing the miller. Pol asks what skills they have. Cael lifts his eyes and holds the gaze across the table while the question lands flat and certain. He sets the clay cup down with a click jaw tight and scar whitening then describes the cart being ambushed by a man in a dark coat with wrapped face who walked north afterward seen twice more including last night with Pol's hands pressing flat on the table. The hearth pops and the millwheel grinds outside as Cael glances at the door. Pol looks across at the listener with the untouched oilcloth receipt between his hands and says quietly that it was not the miller. Lira meets the traveler's eyes in a steady look that confirms they both recognize Cael's description of the dark-coated face-wrapped figure moving north as the one that passed their lean-to the night before. Pol notices the exchange presses his hands flat on the oilcloth and states that they have seen him. The traveler reports seeing the figure on the road south last night without stopping or looking toward them prompting Cael's jaw scar to pale as he glances at Lira's bandaged leg and the traveler's road-worn cloak before setting his own hands flat on the table and stating that the figure is still moving. The speaker sets hands on the table and states that north leads through uncharted fae territories unsuitable for common folk. Pol reports that his grain was taken before reaching the mill Cael asks what the sacks contained and Lira shifts on the bench with her hand resting on the strap of her empty satchel. Pol watches her hand then states that the speaker is not just passing through; the speaker replies no. Pol smooths the oilcloth receipt flat on the table with one broad thumb and leaves it there between them. Lira looks at the oilcloth receipt on the table between her and Pol. Pol states that Miller signed for twelve sacks he sent though the cart went over before the ferry crossing and Cael adds that this occurred before the mill district road. The group concludes the receipt is a lie so someone at the mill knew the cart was not coming and Lira notes that the dark-coated man had somewhere to deliver that news. The hearth settles while nobody fills the silence. They discuss the oilcloth receipt at the table after noting the sacks contained only grain. Pol presses a thumb on the receipt and states that someone needed the grain to appear delivered adding that twelve sacks were sent with nothing received in return. Cael explains the receipt stops questions from ridge farmers and the miller and they conclude a local forger created it since the man in the dark coat does not stay in one place. Lira shifts on the bench with a hand on her empty satchel strap and Cael's eyes move to the door. Cael turns the clay cup between his palms and describes the figure's unhurried even walk along with fitted dark leather boots barely worn at the heel. Pol looks up at the mention of the boots. Lira rests her hand on her satchel strap. Cael states that someone is paying the figure well and that he is not finished while the millwheel continues grinding and Pol folds the oilcloth receipt without putting it away. They catch Lira's eye in a steady look; her chin dips slightly in understanding that they will speak later. They turn to the table and ask Pol and Cael whether either wishes to join the search for the man even into the faelands. Pol folds the oilcloth receipt once tucks it into his coat refuses on account of his mill and wife and names the miller Oswin who works the wheel at the north end of the district and who knows the face if leaned upon to sign a lie. Cael accepts the decision to seek Oswin first. Lira states that messages should be posted to the Dunnholt guild board addressed to L east of the crossroads or taken to Greta at the blue door south end of the mill yard. Pol directs attention to the north end of the district where Oswin's wheel is the loudest. The hearth cracks once more while the millwheel turns and the morning stays young enough for Oswin to remain at his work. The character stands from the bench and tells Pol and Cael they appreciate the information and hope to return intact. Pol gives a short nod while Cael lifts his cup slightly. The character crosses to the door exits the building and enters the mill district amid cold air carrying flour dust and the sound of turning wheels. They walk unhurried toward Oswin's mill through the grey morning.