* * *
Rolph led them to his home, which was painfully similar to the one Catrin had grown up in, and his wife, Collette, pulled her aside.
"Come with me, Elma. Let's get you cleaned up. Shall we?"
"Thank you, Lady Tillerman. You're very kind," Catrin replied, trying to match Benjin's accent and fearing it came out sounding contrived.
Collette laughed a light, tinkling sort of laugh. Lines spread from the corners of her eyes when she smiled, but the sparkle in her eyes spoke of inner youth. "I'm no lady, that's a'certain. Call me Collette," she said, and Catrin was struck by her kindness and by the similarity between these people and her own. These were good people. They were not filled with malice or spite. They led simple, wholesome lives, and she felt a kinship to them. The realizations made the entire conflict seem even more ludicrous. She had no quarrel with these good folk, and they harbored no ill toward her. Yet it was their blood that was being shed, that of their children. Catrin began to think of these people not as the Zjhon, but as the people of the Greatland. The Zjhon were the ones who desired war, and all others were simply their victims.
Collette led her to a private room that held a large iron tub.
"Take off those filthy clothes, and I'll bring you some bathwater," she said, but Catrin drew a sharp intake of breath when saw a pair of deep-brown eyes peering through a crack in the wall, and Collette turned. "Jessub, you scoundrel, shame on you! That's no way to treat a guest. Off with you! Straight to yer grandpa you go, and tell 'im what you've done. And don't think I won't check with him either," she said, and then she turned to Catrin. "Forgive him, m'dear. He's young and naturally curious, and you're a fetching lass."
Catrin flushed crimson. She certainly didn't consider herself fetching, and she eyed the crack in the wall with trepidation. Collette smiled kindly and covered the crack with a towel.
"He'll bother you n'more. I assure you of that," she said as she left Catrin to her privacy, and Catrin was certain she was correct, for Jessub's cries rang out loudly as he received his punishment. Catrin felt bad for him and wished they wouldn't spank him on her behalf; she'd always hated being punished as a child, and she felt Jessub's shame as if it were her own.
Only the luxury of the steaming tub could pull her thoughts away, and she eased into the water, which soon turned black with mud and soot. Despite her efforts, her skin would not come completely clean, and she settled for mostly clean. As the water began to grow cool, Catrin emerged from the tub, and she toweled off her raised flesh. Collette had left fresh clothes for her, and Catrin shook her head. She seemed to always find herself donning the clothes of others while a stranger washed her garments. She supposed she was growing accustomed to it, for it did not bother her as much as it had in the past. The loaned garments were overlarge and well worn, but they were clean, dry, and not uncomfortable.
An alluring aroma wafted into the room, causing her stomach to grumble, and Catrin was grateful when Collette handed her a bowl of broth. It was a light soup made of potato and onion, but it tasted delightful, and it warmed her soul as much as it did her belly.
"I wish we'd more t'share, m'dear, but times are hard," Collette said with a sad smile.
"It's wonderful, and I'm thankful for your generosity. I only hope I'll be able to repay you in some way."
"Nonsense. It's our duty t'help those in need, and you owe us nothing, but I appreciate the thought," she said as she brought Catrin a small loaf of bread. The crust was dark and hard, but the inside was light and airy, unlike the bread made on the Godfist. Catrin did not mention it for fear of revealing her ignorance. Perhaps this type of bread was common in the Greatland, and she did not want to raise any more suspicions.
Benjin and Rolph joined her in the common room, and Benjin looked much better after his bath. His clothes were strange, but they fit him well. Catrin rummaged through her pack and brought out some dried fruit and cheese that she shared with the rest.
"Good cheese," Rolph said with his mouth full, and Collette scolded him for his manners. A young boy came in meekly, refusing to meet Catrin's eyes. From his shamefaced look and the awkward walk of one with a sore bottom, Catrin guessed this was Jessub. When she offered him some dried fruit, he accepted it with tears in his eyes. Rolph gave him a steely glance, and Jessub raised his red eyes to hers.
"I'm sorry I peeked, Lady Elma," he said with a catch in his voice. He looked to be no more than seven summers, and Catrin could not be angry with him.
"It's a'right, Jessub, 'long as it doesn't happen again. Agreed?" she asked, the flush returning to her skin as all eyes rested on her.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he retreated from the stares. With a shove on the door, he was gone.
"Takes after you," Collette said with an accusing glance at Rolph.
"Don't glare at me, woman. I didn't peek. Though I can't say I blame the boy. Yer the prettiest thing to grace this house for some time," he said with a wink at Catrin, and she blushed anew. Benjin nearly choked on his bread, and mirth danced in his eyes, but he said nothing.
"Leave the poor girl alone, you wretched old man," Collette said, and she stood behind Catrin as if guarding her virtue.
"We can put you up in the barn fer a spell," Rolph said, ignoring his wife's glare. "It's not much, but it's dry and there's straw you can bed on. We've some blankets t'spare, so you won't freeze t'death."
"Elma can sleep in my room," came a high voice from outside, and Collette chased Jessub off with a broom.
"Off with you, you naughty child. You've caused enough trouble fer t'day."
"I thank you for your hospitality," Benjin said. "We should leave on the morrow and will not outstay our welcome. I've a brother in the south, and I hope to find work there, for my livelihood left with the fire and flood."
"Tough times fer all, these are. Come, I'll show you to the loft," Rolph said, and they followed him to the barn. All but two of the twenty stalls were empty, and those held swayback mares. At the far end of the barn, a ramp led to the loft, which was not a difficult climb, even for Benjin with his affected limp. Many of the bales were broken, and loose straw lay in mounds. Catrin tossed the blankets Rolph had given her over one mound, and she did what she could to form it into a comfortable bed. The crisp night air frosted their breath, but beneath the warm blankets, she and Benjin quickly dropped into sleep.
Inherited Danger Page 51
