36. Keelan

Chapter 36

Keelan

T he day began with Chief Kerr, reviewing the written account made by officers who were first to arrive at the scene of Hershel’s death. They were cursory and about what I expected. Aengus explained that unnatural deaths were rare, murders even more so. His Constables might face one murder in a dozen years. With that lack of experience, I thought it was a wonder the report contained more than “He was dead when we arrived.”

The rest of the day was spent interviewing townsfolk.

Each was friendly, respectful, and visibly despondent at the mention of Hershel’s death. As Aengus had told me, the man was well known and loved. No one could fathom a reason for foul play, and most expressed ongoing fear of a ravenous animal roaming free near their town. The people spoke of early nights, shuttering their businesses before sunset for the first time in a generation, and few willing to walk alone, even in broad daylight.

The normally peaceful seaside town was now firmly in fear’s grip.

But there was no talk of murder.

No one even gave that serious consideration.

It was unthinkable, especially with a man like Hershel.

It could not have happened.

Something in their universal certitude made my neck itch. I knew it was an irrational reaction, but years of investigation had taught me to trust my instincts. I didn’t know what it was, but I was missing something important.

I ran into Seth as I made my way back to the inn around sunset. As he’d done the day before, the Priest offered a warm smile and gripped my arm in greeting.

“It is good to see you again, Guardsman. Headed back to the inn?”

I nodded. “It’s been a long day, and I hear tonight’s dinner is roasted boar. I haven’t had boar in years.”

Seth grunted. “And Ma knows her way around that kitchen. I was headed there myself, though the boar is welcome news.”

Something tickled my senses, and I eyed the Priest. “You visit the inn often?”

“Most days. It’s a popular place around town, especially this time of year as Ma starts to run out of winter fare and move into the spring menu.” His expression turned sheepish. “And Liam is always there.”

“Liam?”

“The serving boy, Ma’s son. He’s . . . well . . . we’ve taken a few long walks together and . . . I don’t know . . .”

“I didn’t know holy men could have crushes, much less court.” Seth’s explanation rang true, and I released the tension I hadn’t realized I’d held in my shoulders. Images of Declan’s curly locks floated to mind, then Ayden and his fiery curls. Men coupling wasn’t rare, but it was uncommon. The joy in Seth’s eyes at the mention of Liam brought my brother’s own happiness to mind.

I wondered where Declan was, how he was doing. I missed my baby brother and his smile and infectious laugh.

Seth’s voice brought me back to the present. “The Order doesn’t teach celibacy like some faiths, thank the Spirits. I could even marry one day, should someone be foolish enough to accept my offer.”

I mirrored Seth’s smile as we reached the door to the inn.

As promised, the common room was packed to the gills with townsfolk and thick with the aroma of well-seasoned meat. Festive music from a colorfully dressed pair on stage set the mood, as Liam and two serving girls raced from one table to the next.

“Join me for dinner?” Seth asked, noticing me scanning the room for an open table. “Ma and Liam have a table for me by the hearth. I’d be glad for your company. I doubt I’ll see Liam much tonight.”

We waded through the sea of tables and settled in for the evening. As I took my first sip of the evening’s spicy ale, I was glad for the Priest’s invitation and the fire’s warmth that again reminded me of my dandelion-headed little brother.