Page 6 of To Hunt a Ruby Remedy

She ushered me to a table, silencing my half-hearted attempt at an objection with a single look. I sat down, and she went back through the door to the kitchen.

Within minutes, Master Weslet scurried out of the kitchen carrying a full bowl of stew, a mug of ale, a heel of bread, and a wedge of cheese. I watched in amazement as he set everything on the table in front of me without so much as a splash, despite both the mug and bowl being full to the brim. He nodded at me and hurried away without a word.

Though the bread was a tad dry and bland, the meal as a whole was delicious. And huge. I was barely halfway through by the time Mistress Weslet returned. She smiled when she saw me digging into the food, but before she could say anything, a man stumbled into the common room from the stairs.

“Ale,” he called out before collapsing into a chair.

I wondered if he was a patient, someone who had put up with the discomforts of travel to reach the node and powerful healers. Then I saw the way the innkeeper frowned at him and revised my opinion. A common drunk, stumbling out of bed well after the sun had reached its zenith.

I watched him from the corner of my eye. He wore leather pants the same dark shade as his short hair with a simple linen shirt. No vest or jacket. Then I noticed the hilt of a sword on his hip. An armed drunk. Wonderful.

I trained my eyes back on the last of my meal, not wanting to catch the man’s attention. Every instinct I had told me to avoid him. I saw a flash of green skirts as Mistress Weslet delivered his ale and asked if he wanted anything to eat.

When I finished eating, I gathered the empty dishes and carried them to the kitchen. I found the sink easily after my evening helping out, and I had them cleaned in no time. Master Weslet even went so far as to thank me before I exited his domain and returned to the common room.

I went directly to the counter to talk to the innkeeper. Maybe I could offer to bake for the inn this week. Would she be insulted if I made the suggestion?

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said with a smile when I came out of the kitchen. “It is my job to clean up after the patrons.”

“I told you before, I have no coin to offer.”

“And the meal was a gift, dear.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You more than earned it the other night. I hadn’t realized what a relief it is to have an extra set of hands around here in the evening.”

“Then you could use the help this week while I wait for the charm? Not just the evening, of course. I won’t have anything else to do, so I am free to help during the day as well.”

“I’d love to have your help, and the bedroom you used before is still free, but I have a different offer for you. Actually, it is a bit of a favor.”

“What is it?”

Mistress Weslet looked over at the man now shoveling stew into his mouth, then leaned closer to me over the counter. “The village needs to get a message to Ranulf. We have a summons crystal for medical emergencies, but this doesn’t qualify. Sending someone with a note means a full day’s work lost. Thalia and I thought that perhaps you could deliver it to the cottage for us tomorrow.”

My smile froze. I imagined how Ranulf would react to opening his door and finding me there once again.

The innkeeper hurried to keep talking. She must have feared I’d say no. “I know it is quite a walk and you have already been traveling for days, but this message is very important. I’ll make sure he lets you stay at the cottage until your charm is finished, too. His grandmother would be ashamed to hear that he sent you away without a cure for your mother.”

“He didn’t refuse to make the charm,” I defended him automatically. “He said he would deliver it to me here.”

“Yes, but it would be easier if you were around when he finishes it, wouldn’t it?”

Since I had the same thought, I couldn’t object. As much as I worried about Ranulf’s reaction to finding me once more asking to stay at the cottage, I couldn’t deny that I wanted to be there. I wanted to see the charm getting made. I wanted to know that I’d soon have something to bring home to my mother.

I wanted to figure out the healer and see if I had imagined that heated look when he first came downstairs this morning.

“I can deliver the message. Should I leave now?” It was late enough that the forest would grow dark well before I reached the cottage. Despite the long summer days, it would grow dark early thanks to the heavy tree cover. But if the message was urgent . . .

Mistress Weslet looked over at the sole patron of her common room once more. “No. Tomorrow is soon enough. Thank you, dear.”

People began drifting into the common room for an end-of-day drink or a meal soon after I agreed to return to the healers’ cottage. Though Mistress Weslet had made it clear that she was happy to offer me a bed for the night in exchange for my services as a messenger, I felt silly sitting in the common room like a paying patron.

I pulled on the same apron I had used the other night and began helping. The villagers were a friendly bunch, chatting with me, joking, and having a good time. I could forget my worries here. It was a pleasant change from the tavern where I worked back home. Anger was more common than joviality there.

The man from earlier had returned to his room when the first surge of people entered the common room. Later in the evening, when most people who only wanted meals had finished and returned home, and those who planned to stay for drinks pulled out dice, he returned. He wore the same leather pants but had added a quilted gambeson over his shirt. He still carried a sword, and I could now see that he had a long hunting knife at his other hip.

Plenty of villagers made their living from hunting and trapping in the forest, but there was something very different about this huntsman. He sat down at a table where a handful of men diced, and the locals exchanged glances before passing him the cup of dice.

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