“Who are you?” it said. “I don’t recognize you. Do you have business here?”
“My name is Keltin Moore, and the crows have flown.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.”
Suddenly Keltin remembered something through his fog of exhaustion. Quibly had mentioned some sort of signal that was meant to accompany the secret phrase, but the shell-shocked clerk hadn’t been able to demonstrate it for him. Keltin’s exhaustion was saturated in frustration at the thought of coming this close and being held up by such a trivial detail. A desperate part of him was tempted to muscle his way past the man in the doorway and see if the Destovs were there for himself. Forbearance won out for the moment, and he tried an explanation.
“Listen, things went badly in town. We met with Whelks, Kor’sa’vor and Quibly and they were in the process of telling us where you are when Prefect Panz arrived with his officers. There was shooting, and Whelks died along with Panz and his men. I don’t know where Kor’sa’vor is now, but my companion had Quibly in his care while I came here to check on you and the Destovs. Quibly is the one who gave me the key phrase, but he wasn’t able to show me the signal that went with it.”
The door opened slightly wider.
“Was this Quibly injured?”
“He was in shock, but otherwise fine.”
The figure stood silently for a moment, and Keltin felt himself being studied for any sign of duplicity or deception.
“Rot. All right. Come in.”
The man opened the door and Keltin gratefully stepped inside. The man shut the door and turned, revealing a face with intelligent eyes and a shock of graying hair with a matching beard.
“Are you Petrov, then?” asked Keltin.
“That’s right. I’m sorry to hear about Whelks and the rest, though it’s some consolation that that keb Panz is dead.”
“There’s more that you’ll want to know.”
Keltin described the events of the night before, detailing the meeting with the members of the Carris cell and the subsequent attack and escape. Petrov took special interest in the troops being sent south under the command of Freck, and asked Keltin for as many details as he could remember. When he had finished, Petrov sighed and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Moore. The isolated nature of each cell of our organization ensures greater security for the group as a whole, but at the cost of a lack of central leadership or direction. I never would have tolerated the sort of strong-arm tactics that they tried to use to make you into their personal assassin, and I doubt the Brothers in Kerrtow itself would approve either. Still, the news of Freck and his troops is most troubling.”
Petrov stared into space thoughtfully. Keltin blinked his heavy eye-lids, exhaustion and frustration warring within him.
“Are the Destov’s here, then?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re eager to see them. I think they may already be asleep, but I can check if you’d like.”
“Please.”
Petrov led Keltin into a sitting room dominated by a large fire and several overstuffed chairs before disappearing into the dark farmhouse. Keltin looked at one of the overstuffed chairs with longing but resisted the urge to sit. He went to the fire to remove his gloves and warm his hands. Shifting his shoulders, he realized that his befuddled mind had forgotten that he was still wearing his pack and equipment. He had finished laying out his gear by the fireplace and was removing his coat when Petrov returned.
“You said that you had other companions?” he asked.
“Yes, I have three more people traveling with me that should be on their way here. I’m not sure when they will arrive.”
Petrov was giving a response when Keltin heard the light tread of swiftly approaching footsteps. He turned. She stood in the entryway, a shawl thrown around her shoulders and a long cotton dressing gown draped over the rest of her figure. Her dark hair was up in a mass of ringlets, framing her pale angelic face and sparkling blue eyes. Keltin looked into her eyes and felt relief and anxiety rush into him. Words flooded his mind, but he couldn’t say any of them. He swallowed and took a step towards her, holding his hand out, terrified she wouldn’t take it.
"Elaine, I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
Elaine made a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh as she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her cheek against his chest.
“Oh Keltin!” she breathed. “You came! I knew you’d come. I knew it!”
She drew a shuddering breath, and Keltin found himself wrapping his arms around her, not daring to speak for fear that the moment might end. Petrov cleared his throat.
“We can discuss our plans in the morning,” he said. “In the meantime, feel free to use the divan there for tonight. Goodnight.”
Elaine pulled away as Petrov left the room. Her eyes fluttered from his face to the fire then down to his tattered coat.
“What’s happened to your coat?” she asked.
"I was on a beast hunt this summer. It didn't go as planned."
Elaine's green eyes showed a sudden flash of concern.
"Were you hurt?" she asked.
"Nothing serious, though I did have to get some stitches in this arm."
Keltin was completely unprepared when Elaine took his arm gingerly and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the scar running along the outside edge of his forearm.
"Someone has done a good job of stitching this," she said quietly.
Keltin nodded, unwilling to pull his arm away from her. "The local doctor had attended university in Maplewood. I was lucky that he was able to get to it before any infection set in."
Elaine nodded, looking up from his arm into his eyes.
"I'm glad you're safe," she said, her sincerity like a blanket wrapping around Keltin’s heart.
“And I’m glad that you’re safe. Is the rest of your family all right? Are they here?”
“Yes, they’re just upstairs. Oh! I should tell them that you’re here. I’m sure that my mother and brothers will want to finally meet you. I’ll be back.”
She hurried away and Keltin listened to her light footsteps as they ascended the stairs and moved across the floorboards above him. He heard soft words being spoken, followed by two sets of steady footsteps as well as a series of bounding thumps that sounded like a pair of whip legs let loose in the upstairs. Something was said in a harsh tone, and soon four sets of footsteps made their way calmly to him as the Destov family entered the room.
Looking at Elaine’s mother, it was clear where she had inherited her striking eyes and elegant features. The boys had taken more after their father, with curly dark hair and bright, inquisitive expressions. Mrs. Destov went to Keltin, extending a hand in a gesture that bespoke a lifetime of elegance and poise. Keltin felt like an clumsy oaf taking her hand and wasn’t sure what he should do with it, but was relieved when she merely squeezed his fingers tightly between both her hands.
“Mr. Moore, we have prayed for your safety every day since we left Kerrtow. Thank you so much for coming to our aid.”
Keltin felt his ears warm slightly. He cleared his throat and nodded.
“Of course. I’m only sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
“Please don’t trouble yourself over it. I can only imagine what trials you had to overcome to find us.” Mrs. Destov sighed, casting a disappointed look at their surroundings. “I must admit, I had hoped that if we ever did meet, it would have been under much better circumstances. I’m afraid we have little means of entertaining you.”
“We could teach him to play Swift, mother,” said the smaller of the two boys.
“Hush, dear. Mr. Moore isn’t interested in card games at a time like this.”
Keltin dropped to one knee. Despite his lack of experience with children, he felt a sudden need to make his best effort here. He thought of Jaylocke’s ready grin and friendly persona. Trying his best to emulate his friend, he gave the bo
y a slight smile.
“Perhaps you can teach me later. For now, why don’t you tell me which brother you are?”
The boy smiled, showing dimples on his freckled cheeks. “I’m Derrick. I’m nine.”
Keltin nodded and looked at the other boy.
“I’m Col.” he said. “I’m twelve. Do you really hunt beasts?”
“That’s right.”
Col’s eyes went wide. “Wow. That’s so brave. How many beasts have you killed?”
“I haven’t really kept track.”
“More than a dozen?”
“I’d say so.”
“More than a hundred?”
“A thousand?” put in Derrick.
“All right,” said Elaine. “Let’s give him some time. You’ll both get plenty of opportunity to ask him all sorts of questions.”
“Oh, I don’t mi—”
Keltin was cut off by a sudden, uncontrollable yawn. He blinked owlishly and shook his head.
“Pardon me. I’m sorry.”
“You’re completely fine,” said Mrs. Destov. “Come along, boys. I’m sure Mr. Moore is weary from the road. We can all speak more once he’s had a chance to rest. Has Petrov found you a place to sleep?”
“Yes, I’ll be down here by the fire.”
“Good. Sleep well, Mr. Moore. I look forward to speaking with you further in the morning.”
Mrs. Destov turned and ushered her boys away. Elaine hesitated, giving Keltin a small smile.
“We can speak more in the morning,” she said softly.
“All right. Good night.”
“Good night, Keltin.”
Elaine turned to go, joining her mother where she had lingered at the foot of the stairs to wait for her daughter. The two of them ascended out of sight as Keltin finished clearing off the divan in the sitting room. He undressed for bed by the light of the fireplace before lying down, pulling his tattered coat over him as a makeshift blanket. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, thinking of the woman only a few feet directly above him. At last, he had found her. Regardless of whatever else may happen, he had found her, and somehow he would figure out a way to protect her and her family and reunite them with their father and husband. With that thought in mind, he allowed his heavy eyes to close, and for the first time in a long while, slipped into a heavy, dreamless slumber.
Chapter 18 – Balanced Risk
Keltin awoke feeling warm and snug, his mind in a pleasant haze of ambiguity as he slowly came back to his senses. He rolled over and realized that he was not covered by his coat. Instead, a heavy quilt had been placed over him. Blinking in confusion, he sat up and looked around for his jacket, but didn’t find it among his kit and gear at the foot of the divan. Rising to his feet, he padded across the wooden floors in search of anyone else that had awoken.
Stepping into a small library, he found Elaine, wrapped in a house shawl and still wearing her white cotton nightgown. Across her lap was his coat, her hands skillfully moving a needle and thread between a patch and a large tear. Keltin felt a surge of concern that Elaine had inadvertently found the letter that he had written to her while at the farmhouse in Krendaria. His eyes flew to a nearby table, finding the boxes of bullets and other items that had filled the coat’s many pockets, but no envelope. Suddenly he remembered that he had placed the letter along with his other correspondence tucked safely away in the bottom of his pack. His sigh of relief must have been audible as Elaine glanced up with a slight start.
“I’m sorry,” said Keltin. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s all right. I just didn’t hear you.”
There was a brief, awkward silence. Elaine turned the coat over and pointed out a dark green patch.
“I recognize this one. I did it for you while we were in my uncle’s farmhouse.”
“Yes. It’s stayed on all this time.”
Elaine shook her head as she held up the coat. “I’m afraid there’s not very much I can do with it now. It’s coming all to pieces. It will be more patch than coat soon.”
Keltin could only nod as he felt a rush of words come to his mind. Words about all their letters since they’d last seen each other, words about his friends and her family, words about Angela, words about each other... They jumbled and tumbled through him without forming any cohesive phrases he could give voice to. He thought of retrieving his letter from his pack and bringing it to her, but for some reason he hesitated. The time just didn’t seem right.
Elaine looked up at him.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
Keltin took a deep breath.
“I just... there is so much I’ve wanted to say... but now...”
Her answering smile was so gentle and kind that Keltin immediately felt that he didn’t deserve it.
“I know. It’s all right. There will be time. Do you know if Petrov has started the fire in the kitchen stove yet?”
“I don’t know. I’ll go check.”
“Thank you.”
Keltin found the kitchen and its cold, dark stove. Opening the hatch, he cleared a space among the ashes of previous fires, creating a small stack of kindling from the nearby wood box. One match was enough to breathe life into the dry tinder, and Keltin added fuel until he had a healthy blaze developing. Looking back into the wood box, he saw that it was nearly depleted and went outside in search of the wood pile.
The first light of dawn was in the sky as he found the stacked wood under an awning against the side of the farmhouse. Most of the pieces resembled quartered blocks, and were much too large for the kitchen stove. There was a wood ax and wedge lying on top of the stack, so he took it up and pulled out one of the intact rounds to use as a splitting stand. Soon he was lost in a comfortable routine of setting, chopping, stacking, and repeating. Time passed without Keltin noticing it as the morning sun rose, bringing color to his gray surroundings. Soon the cold in his joints had melted away as the heat of honest labor warmed him and brought damp sweat to his brow.
A slice of wood went flying farther than his chipping circle, and Keltin turned to retrieve it. Looking up, he was surprised to find that he had an audience. Col Destov stood under the eve of the house, hugging a coat to himself and watching him silently. Keltin straightened and called to the boy.
“Good morning,” he said.
Col gave him a shy smile. “My sister sent me to get more wood for the stove. She says breakfast should be ready soon.”
“All right. You can take it from that stack there.”
Col gathered an armful of wood that seemed a little too ambitious to Keltin. He wondered if perhaps the boy was trying to impress him and smiled to himself at the thought as he set about finishing the wood he had left to do. Col carried away several more armfuls of wood before returning to continue watching Keltin quietly. Keltin chopped the last piece from the pile and stretched.
“Mr. Moore?”
“Yes?”
“Will you tell us some of the stories of your hunts today? Elaine’s told us some of them, but I’m sure that you have many more.”
Keltin smiled. “I suppose, though beast hunting isn’t all glory and excitement.”
“Oh I know. It can be hard and long, sometimes boring and sometimes frightening, even for someone like you. But you do it anyway.”
Keltin looked at the youth in surprise.
“Where did you hear that?”
“My sister. She says that it’s because you still do what you do even when you’re tired or scared or lonely, that that’s what makes you a real hero.”
“She said that?”
Col nodded. “So, will you tell us some stories?”
“I promise. But first, let’s go inside and see what’s for breakfast.”
The morning meal turned out to be sweet porridge and thick brown bread with marmalade spread. As soon as grace was said and the dishes began to be passed around, Keltin turned to Mrs. Destov.
“I’ve been wanting to ask how you made your tri
p here from Kerrtow. Mr. Destov wasn’t able to give me many details of your escape plan.”
“Have you heard from him recently? Is he all right?” she asked eagerly.
“I received a letter at the end of the harvest season in Krendaria. That’s how I knew to come looking for you. He seemed fine, though he was painfully worried about you.”
Mrs. Destov shook her head. “Poor Severn. I tried to get word to him that we were going to have to leave the house sooner than we thought, but by then it wasn’t safe to send any sort of correspondence, even in code.”
“Were you in danger in Kerrtow?”
Mrs. Destov’s eyes flickered to her sons before answering. “I think we may have been, if we had stayed any longer than we did. As it was, we had to move fairly quickly once the Brothers came to us. We had intended to take the train, but the stations were too heavily patrolled. The Brothers provided us with a wagonette and driver which we loaded with just our dearest possessions and ourselves. We left all of our remaining goods to the Brothers as compensation, such as it was.”
“Do you know if you were followed?”
“No, thankfully we were able to do most of our traveling at night.”
“In the dark? That was a serious risk to take, even with a well-kept road.”
“Actually, it wasn’t as bad as you might think,” said Petrov. “The wagonette was formerly used as a shuttle between the train station in Kerrtow and the finer hotels in the city. Since many of its passengers required transportation after dark, the carriage was already equipped with two large travel lanterns that provided more than enough illumination for the driver to get them here before returning to the capital.”
“Do you still have the wagonette here?”
“It’s in the barn. We thought it would likely be needed again to make the rest of the journey. Speaking of which, have you considered what route you’ll take to get out of Malpin?”
Dangerous Territory Page 19
