35. Keelan

Chapter 35

Keelan

B y the time the outskirts of Oliver came into view, my backside and legs were achy and stiff. As much as I trusted Jess, my Gift told me she wasn’t laying all the cards on the table. I had worked for the Triad long enough to be used to knowing only what they deemed necessary, but it still bothered me that Jess hadn’t trusted me with the entire picture.

It made me question the feelings she professed in the garden.

Were we truly as deeply in love as she claimed, or were hers merely the words of a lonely girl clinging to a man who made her feel safe?

It made me wonder why I stayed in Fontaine so long.

Atikus and the Guard could certainly use my leadership and strong hands to rebuild.

My home needed me.

Yet here I was riding to some distant ocean town to investigate animal attacks that didn’t smell right to a foreign ruler.

But she’s so much more than just some foreign ruler now, isn’t she?

Dittler snorted.

I reached down and stroked the stallion’s neck. “I know. It sounds ridiculous when I think it. Please don’t make me say any of it out loud.”

Dittler looked back and whinnied.

I slowed our trot as we entered town. Oliver was larger than I’d pictured in my mind. While scattered farmhouses dotted the landscape for leagues around, the town itself was composed of a variety of tightly packed wooden and stone structures. Well-maintained cobbled roads wove between them with little apparent pattern for traffic flow.

It was an hour or two past midday.

The sun was beginning his lazy descent over the ocean. Men and women in simple clothing moved about with purpose, most carrying goods or children in their heavily laden arms. As they passed, most smiled or nodded in greeting to their neighbors, and the sound of chatter and laughter echoed off building walls.

At first glance, Oliver was a bustling, thriving town with warm and friendly citizens; but as I watched life unfold before me, I sensed an undertone of something—a feeling of loss and sadness—that drifted on the ocean breeze as it wafted by. It was as clear as the salty tang on my tongue. Whether this undercurrent of grief was born from the mysterious death that had occurred two weeks earlier or from the war that had torn many families asunder, I couldn’t be sure. It was probably some measure of each.

A man in a silky brown robe stopped as I strode past, looking up at the massive horse I rode. “He’s a beauty. I have not seen a Cretian in years. I almost forgot how tall they are.”

The man whistled as his eyes traveled up Dittler’s neck and met the horse’s eyes. Dittler peered down, then snapped at the man’s foolishly outstretched hand.

The man snatched his hand back, clutching it against his chest.

I chuckled. “He’s a beauty but not the friendliest beast you’ll meet, not without a bribe in your hand.”

The man smiled weakly and nodded. “If it’s all the same, I’ll leave the bribing to you.”

Dittler snorted, drawing the man’s now-wide eyes.

“Yeah, he thinks he knows what we’re saying, too. He’s far too smart for his own good,” I joked.

Dittler’s head craned back as he snapped at his impudent rider, who simply stroked his neck and grinned.

The robed man stopped gaping and cleared his throat. “I am Seth. You look like you could use a break from riding. Been traveling long?”

“Keelan,” I said while inclining my head. “Just arrived from Fontaine.”

When I didn’t offer more, Seth asked, “I do not recall ever seeing a blue uniform like yours.”

I looked down at my dusty navy jacket. I’d forgotten I wore my Melucian uniform, a clear oversight I’d correct as quickly as possible. “I’m a Constable in the Saltstone Guard.”

“Saltstone? Melucia’s capital?”

“Yes. I came on behalf of our government to help repair the ties that were recently broken.” The scripted and well-rehearsed line sailed off my tongue with barely a thought. Jess had insisted I offer only this explanation when asked why I was so far from home in what many still called enemy territory .

Seth remained silent a moment, then smiled and looked up. “Welcome. We are a friendly town, especially to those in need. I am the local Priest. If this humble servant can help with anything, please ask.”

This man was unlike most vicars I’d encountered.

I didn’t sense anything false in his words but knew from painful experience not to trust men wearing silky brown robes. I decided to keep a wary eye on the man while in town.

“I could use some directions. The roads around here seem to follow their own whims. Can you point me to the local inn?”

Seth brightened. “There are two inns in town, but you will prefer the Glory. The other inn is by the docks and tends to attract sailors and more troublesome folk. I was headed there now. You are welcome to join me.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Priest Seth.”

“Please, just call me Seth.”

Moments later, we stood before the entrance to the inn. I eyed the two-story stone building with its stylized golden crown glittering above the door.

“The local legend says the King stayed here and loved the place so much he allowed the owner to use the royal crest. People still talk about the court’s visit, but nobody knows if the owner made up the last part or not. Either way, the Glory is nice and run by good people. You will be comfortable here.”

A boy in his early teens startled me, appearing from around the corner. “You checking in, mister? I’ll stable your horse.”

Dittler nipped at the boy’s hand as his thin fingers reached for the bridle.

“If you’ll lead the way, I’ll take him back. He doesn’t like most people. Some days, I’m not sure he likes me,” I said as I dismounted.

On cue, Dittler turned and snapped at my arm, earning a playful swat from his temporary master. “Enough of that. You behave.”

Once Dittler was settled, Seth and I entered the inn to find an empty common room filled with the sounds and smells of an active kitchen. My stomach made its presence known.

“Didn’t eat much on the road?” Seth said with a smirk.

I didn’t want to like the Priest but couldn’t help warming to his easy smile. “Just some dried meat in my pack.”

Before Seth could respond, a rotund older woman burst through the door, an empty pitcher in one hand and four beer mugs gripped by their handles in the other. Her head snapped up when she saw her guests, round eyes roaming to my face.

“Oh, Seth. You’re early today. I can’t let our boy go for another few hours.” The woman gaped at me, the overly tall uniformed man standing by the Priest. “Who did you bring with you? I can’t remember having a giant in our inn before.”

Seth laughed. I shuffled my feet.

“It’s all right, Ma. I’m just bringing you another guest: a Constable from across the mountains who just arrived in town.”

She set the pitcher down and gave me her full attention, failing to hide her sudden unease. “Across the mountains, eh? What brings ya here?”

I offered a shallow bow. “I am here on a personal matter and need a room for a few nights.”

Ma brightened. “Of course. We can fix ya right up. You’ll be wanting to wash the road off first thing. I’ll have our boy bring you hot bath water. We just cleaned up the noon meal, but I can have some cuts and cheese brought up if you’re hungry to tide ya over till dinner.”

“You’re right on both counts. I’m starving and”—I looked down at my dusty coat— “definitely need to wash the road off. Is there someone who could clean my uniform?”

Ma nodded. “Just leave it outside your door. Boy’ll take it and bring it back clean before the day’s out.”

I bowed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“You hear that? He called me ma’am—and bowed twice !” Ma giggled and swatted at Seth. Through her laughter, she called over her shoulder as she left the room, “Wait one minute. I’ll show you to your room.”

Seth turned to me. “I will leave you to it, then. I hope your stay is peaceful and pleasant.”

“Thank you.” I set my pack on the floor and nodded. “Before you leave, can I ask you about something?”

“Of course. How can I help?” Seth asked.

“How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, it’s been a few months now. It feels like I’ve been here forever, though. The place really grows on you fast.”

“Did you know a man named Hershel?”

Seth’s face fell, and his eyes hardened. “Yes. I knew him.”

I held up a palm. “Forgive me. I know his passing was a tragedy. I am here to learn what I can of how he died. The local Constables’ report was vague, and the High Sheriff in Fontaine asked for another pair of eyes. He couldn’t spare his own men, and I was about to climb the walls with boredom. So here I am.”

Seth relaxed a bit, but his guard remained in place. “They say it was a bear attack. What a terrible thing. I did not see his body afterward, but folks who did said you might not know it was Hershel. His face—most of it had been ripped apart. Had we not known an animal was to blame, I would say someone who hated the man killed him with spite in their heart.”

I listened carefully.

My Gift remained quiet, undisturbed.

The Priest believed what he was saying and held nothing back.

“Thank you. I know it can be hard to relive events such as this, but it is important we know what happened to protect others from the same fate.”

The stable boy appeared through the kitchen door and looked between me and Seth, as if sensing tension he hadn’t felt before. Seth looked up slowly and nodded. “I’ll leave you now, Guardsman. Good day.”

A couple of hours later, I returned to the common room cleaned, fed, and somewhat rested. I had changed out of my uniform, in favor of more comfortable civilian clothing, a muted-green tunic and dark tan trousers—something Jess had provided. The thought made me smile as I donned the shirt.

I’d been away for only a few days and already missed her.

I hardly knew what to do with that foreign feeling.

I settled into a chair at a table near the hearth, letting the warmth of the newly stoked fire soak into my tired muscles. A few other guests had arrived and talked quietly at tables throughout the room.

A boy of seventeen or eighteen winters with curly, sandy-colored hair darted from one table to another. When he approached my table, he paused to catch his breath before speaking.

“Sorry for the wait. I’m Liam. I’m the only one here for now, so they’ve got me running. What can I get you to drink? Ale? Wine?”

“How about an ale and some water?”

He nodded and vanished as quickly as he’d appeared.

A moment later, Liam returned with a mug in each hand, set them down with a heavy thud, and scurried to the table two rows away without even looking up.

The ale was sweet with a touch of a citrus, unlike the tart beers back home—and there wasn’t a hint of the water I expected from most inns or alehouses.

This might be a good trip after all , I thought, stretching my legs before the fire.

The front doors clacked open, and I looked up to find a man with broad shoulders and a square jaw entering. A stripe on the collar on his forest-green cloak glittered, a common enough sight in Melucia but a growing rarity in the Kingdom. The man stopped in the doorway and surveyed the room, taking in each table’s occupants before moving on to the next. When his eyes fell to me, his scanning ceased, and he strode to stand before my table.

“Mind some company?”

My eyes fell to a piece of metal pinned to the man’s inner coat, a crown over two small ships, their sails unfurled. I’d know a lawman’s badge anywhere in the world. The symbols were different, but they felt the same.

To me, they felt like brotherhood.

I nodded and gestured with my mug. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Always happy to meet another Constable.”

The man smiled, removed his cloak, and sat. “That obvious? Guess it is to another lawman. It’s the eyes, isn’t it?”

I shrugged and pointed. “I saw your badge.”

The man’s hand reached up and felt the pin. “Right. That’ll do it, too.” He chuckled. “I’m Chief Aengus Kerr, head Constable in town. It’s a pleasure to meet the famous Keelan Rea.”

My eyes widened. “Got all that from my eyes?”

“No, a bird. Received word from Fontaine to expect you around this time. They told me to give you whatever assistance you needed and to not ask too many questions.”

I relaxed and took another sip.

“So, what’s this all about?” the Chief asked.

Now it was my turn to laugh. “So much for no questions.”

“Ever met a Constable who could let a good mystery go? You’re just about the best mystery this sleepy little town’s seen in a decade, and I’ve always been a curious lad.”

The kinship I felt with the fellow lawman deepened as the man spoke. His words were clear, his laugh deep, and everything he said rang true to my Gift.

This was a brother in uniform.

“I’m not sure what all the secrecy’s about. I’ve been sent to see if there’s more to the killing from a couple weeks ago than was in your report.”

Aengus’s brows rose. “You mean the mauling? Why would they send someone to look into that? Poor man was torn to shreds just outside of town. His whole body was covered in claw marks, at least what was left of it. I can’t see anything other than a bear causing that kind of damage.”

“I was planning to come see you first thing in the morning, but since you’re here, mind if I ask a few questions?”

“If I can have an ale while we do it, you can ask anything you want. Like I said, I’m under orders to help you however you need it,” Aengus said as he motioned the serving boy over to the table. “The fella coming over here is Liam, Hershel’s son. The round woman who’ll bring out your meal is Ma, his wife. Best we not let either of them hear what we’re talking about.”

I nodded and held my mug to my lips as Aengus chatted briefly with Liam before the boy hustled back to the bar.

Over the next few hours, Aengus and I reviewed every aspect of the investigation into Hershel’s death. From the start, the locals had seen it as a clear-cut case of an animal attack, though none could understand why a beast large enough to maul a man like Hershel would be so far from any forested area. Aengus couldn’t recall a single bear sighting within fifty leagues of Oliver during his lifetime.

The next largest animals to routinely wander nearby were wolves. While wolves were dangerous enough in a pack, they ate what they killed, instead of tearing it to shreds and vanishing.

That part made little sense.

I sat quietly as Aengus launched into his dinner of pot roast, a well-known winter special of the inn. Virtually every table held the same hearty chunks of meat, dark sauce, and bowls of roasted potatoes.

I shoved my own roast around my plate as I thought.

Hershel’s murder , I thought as I sipped. Nothing in the facts suggests a murder, merely a killing, as the locals believe. It all seems so obvious, yet my instincts are screaming there’s something hidden behind the mask.

“What are you thinking?” Aengus asked between bites.

I sighed and set my mug down. “I don’t know. Everything you said makes sense.”

“But your gut’s churning, and you don’t know why?”

I glanced up and nodded.

“Tell me about Hershel,” I asked.

Aengus set his fork down and looked around the room until he located Liam and Ma. When he spoke, I had to lean forward to hear him.

“Hershel was a good man. Stubborn and strong-minded, but loyal through and through. He and Ma bought this place twenty or so years ago. It wasn’t anything until the royals blew into town. To hear Hershel tell it, the King kissed the floorboards and shat gold on the bar.”

Aengus chuckled, but there was a sadness in his laughter.

“Was he well liked in town?”

“Liked? More loved than liked. Hersh could be a surly bastard when something didn’t go his way, but everyone knew to just let him cool down and peace would be restored—usually at the business end of one of Ma’s cooking spoons.”

Aengus sipped his wine and stared into the fire. To my eye, the man saw memories more than flames. It was clear Hershel was more than just another citizen to the Chief; he was a dearly missed friend.

“Chief, I am sorry. I know this is hard for everyone, especially those who were close with him.”

Aengus glanced up. “You don’t have to do that, play the empathetic Constable to get me to talk.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did—and you were right to—but it’s unnecessary. I want the truth as much as anyone, but I’m afraid it is a simple one that won’t give any of us satisfaction.”

Liam swung by and replaced our empty mugs with a pair filled to the brim. He seemed to sense the tenor of our conversation and slipped away without a word.

“Did Hershel have any enemies in town?”

“Not that I know of. He really was well liked.” Aengus shook his head. “Oh, there’s always one or two who don’t like anybody, but they’re that way with the lot of us, not just Hersh. I’ve been over this a thousand times in my head since he died, and I can’t come up with one person who would’ve wished him harm, much less dead.”

We focused on our ale as the stable boy, who seemed to do far more than manage the stables, stoked the fire, and a player took the stage. The room was now packed, every table filled, and two rows of standing patrons milled about the bar. With the first few notes of the gleeman’s fiddle, the low murmur of the crowd swelled to a clamor in anticipation of the entertainment to come.

“Well, Chief, I thank you for your time—and company. Despite the topic, you’ve made a traveler feel at home tonight. If it’s all right with you, I’ll leave you here and start again in the morning.” I finished my ale and set my mug on the table.

Aengus stood and gripped my arm. “The company was welcome. Get some rest. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”