Chronicles of Steele: Raven 3: Episode 3 (2 page)

Grant
swallowed the last of his jerky and looked at the water on the other side of
the boat. “We’ve all heard tales. Stories to keep us out of the woods and in
our beds at night when we were children. I’m sure they are mostly
exaggerations.”

“Maybe,
but maybe there’s truth to them, too.”

He
shook his head and gave her a half smile. “I doubt it. I don’t think she flies
on a broomstick or she would have used that as her means of escape, don’t you
think?”

“Well,
that’s for certain. And I didn’t see a crumb of gingerbread around that house
of hers . . . it had more substance than one made of candy or confections.”
Raven shook her head, racking her brain for more details about the Wood Witch.

Rupert
leaned forward. “But does she eat children? Would that part of the stories be
true?”

Raven’s
jaw clamped so hard and fast her teeth clicked together. If that witch had
intentions of eating Darius, Raven would rip her throat out.

Colton
spoke up. “In the palace, there are fewer fables about the witch. She’s
considered an amalgam of apothecary and alchemist. Occasionally she’s called on
if a noble has an ailment the doctors cannot cure.”

Grant
shook his head and turned so that he straddled the bench and could see his
companions. His movements rocked the boat and forced Raven to grip the seat. He
asked, “So among the common populace, tales of woe surround the witch, but
among the rich, she’s just a healer?”

Colton
nodded. “That about sums it up.”

Monroe
cleared his throat from the back, drawing all eyes to him. “The Wood Witch is a
bit of both, I’m afraid. A person is rarely ever purely good or evil . . .
black or white, but rather has shades of grey. They have good points and bad
ones.”

Raven
ground her teeth. How could she have brought Darius to this woman even if it
had been at the Baron’s request? “Wait. I thought the duke doesn’t approve of
witchcraft? Isn’t he the top of the nobility?”

Colton
tilted his head, and his blue eyes met hers. “That’s also true. Some of the
nobility still call on the witch for her services, but rarely do they do it in
the open. If a spy brought news to the duke about her use, it would be fodder
for a possible ousting of their seat.”

Grant
leaned forward, his eyes alternating between Colton’s and hers. “So you’re
telling me this woman has been shunned by the nobility because of the duke’s
prejudice?”

Colton
nodded.

Raven’s
eyes grew wide as she connected the dots. “She has a motive to hurt the baron.
If she could hurt the duke through his son…”

Grant
nodded. “She’d get revenge.”

Remain vigilant to one's own
needs and those of one's allies.
Stay strong at all costs.
Do not let one's body grow weak because of failure to care of its needs.

J
ACK GRANT LEAPT from the boat and
pulled it ashore. He offered his hand to help Raven from the boat. She eyed it
and gripped the sides of the vessel and jumped out on the other side. Jack
dropped his hand, but continued to smile. Obviously, she didn’t want him to
treat her like a woman. He removed his hand and gave her a smile and a curt
nod. If that was what she wanted, he’d do his best to oblige.  As their portion
of the boat reached land, Rupert and Colton jumped out and helped him haul the
boat to the sandy beach. Jack surveyed the busy docks just ahead of where they
drove ashore in Ipswich.

The
large ships and tugs could have run them over without ever taking notice of
them. If the witch had run her boat to the mouth of the river and brought the
young baron all the way here to the port of Southbend, she’d have been forced
to go aground as well.

 “Where
to, Captain? Where should we begin the search?” Colton asked as he stood, eyes
wide and taking in the sights.

Raven
snapped a leash on the Great Dane and called her over the side of the boat.
Nikki leapt over and sniffed around along the shore. She searched in both
directions, but failed to find a scent. After a moment of watching, Jack
finally answered Colton. “I’m not sure.”

Rupert
had walked up the shoreline toward the docks and started on his way back toward
them. He called out as he approached. “Chances are this is all a part of the
witch’s plan. She prepared the boat. Even coming here was not an accident. She
likely frequents this port. I suggest that we canvas the area and ask
questions.”

Jack
took a deep breath of the cold, salty air and nodded. “Logical,” he said as he
met eyes with the two reapers huddled together over the dog. “What do you two
think?”

Monroe
eyed the three guardsmen. “I suggest disguises. The duke has no jurisdiction
over these southern provinces, and we’re hours south of Moorshead now. Raven is
wearing her travelling dress, and only needs to get rid of her weapons. In my
rags, I look more like a vagrant than a reaper. But you three in your brown
coats and blue suits look the part of Duke’s Guard. If we’re going to be asking
questions around this town, you three will not gain much in the way of
answers.”

Colton
nodded, pulling the pack from his back. “I agree, but I believe getting rid of
our coats should be enough. The suits are a common sight in most towns outside
of New Haven.”

Rupert’s
nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed. “I am loath to get rid of my coat, sir.
I don’t agree with the idea that the guard has no bearing but a negative one in
the southern province. I’m from the south and know what the brown coat means to
my people. It commands respect.”

Jack
nodded, looking both his guardsmen in the eyes as they took both sides of the
argument. He looked specifically at Rupert and set a hand on his friend’s
shoulder. “Rupert, you are from the south, and as such, we will find your
ability to speak with these people invaluable. I suggest we do it both ways.
Colton and I will remove our brown coats. You will keep yours. That way we
cover all of our bases.”

The
elder reaper shrugged, and Raven never lifted her gaze from the dog. She kept
her hand on the camel-colored Great Dane as she spoke. “I think it might be the
best idea. If we have need for a guardsman, Rupert can play the part.”

Rupert
straightened the collar on his coat and brushed unseen particles from his
sleeve. Colton stripped his coat from his suit and reached for Jack's. They
stowed them away in the bow of the boat.

Raven
narrowed her eyes. “Do you think this is a safe location to stow it away? We
cannot be certain someone won’t happen by before we return.”

Jack
nodded and stepped closer to her. He spoke in a low voice. “Unlike Rupert,
neither Colton nor I have a special attachment to our coat. If it’s lost, we’ll
acquire another.”

She
furrowed her brows.

After
checking to be sure Rupert stood a good distance away, he continued. “Everyone
knows the southern province detests the guard and want to keep their autonomy.
But what many don’t know is that to become a guard member is seen as a highly
respectable thing for one in the province. They are not seen as traitors but
rather as hometown boys doing well.”

She
nibbled her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows. “So he sees it as a disgrace to
rid himself of his symbolic rise from the bottom?”

Jack
nodded and straightened up, calling to the group. “I suggest we split up into
three groups. If we have a greater number together, it’s likely we’ll
intimidate people and cause them to hold their tongues.”

 “I’ll
venture alone.” Monroe interrupted after a general murmur of consensus from the
group. He drew close to Raven, reached for the leather leash in her hand, and
asked, “But I’ll take Nikki with me, if you have no objections?”

She
relinquished the leash and shook her head. “None at all.”

“We
should set a time and place to meet,” Colton suggested.

“This
is as good a place as any . . . and let’s meet here at sunset. Agreed?” Monroe
called over his shoulder, ignoring any chance of argument or discussion.

“I
believe it is the best suggestion,” Raven said immediately, pulling the
crossbow and sword from her back. She stashed them under the coats and stepped
back toward them. “I suppose I look like a common, everyday woman now.”

Jack
nodded, but he saw her as anything but common. She pushed the black curls from
her face and twisted them into a bun. She put two sticks within the bun, and
green liquid sloshed in each of them.

“Do
you feel vulnerable, now that you’re weaponless?” Rupert asked as he grinned,
pulling both sides of his coat back to expose his sword and pistol.

Raven
tightened her jaw and narrowed her eyes at him. “A reaper is rarely vulnerable
and never weaponless.”

Colton
had already come up beside Rupert, as though choosing teams. Jack shrugged. He
could tell the woman would prefer not to be paired with Rupert—the two measured
each other regularly. Although Colton displayed no animosity for the woman
who’d taken his sword, he eyed it frequently.

Jack
stepped up beside Raven without voicing assignments. “Very well. Let’s go.”

After
hours of walking the dirt roads of the port town, Raven’s feet had grown sore.
But Captain Grant’s step never faltered, and his peaceful expression never
changed from a half smile. It surprised her that he could remain so calm at all
times. She’d never met a man who seemed so dispassionate or at least, difficult
to read. Regardless, she refused to show the fatigue pain in her step, either.

The
snow in the city had almost completely melted. Occasional drifts piled up in
the corners and nooks of buildings. Dirty smudges of soot spotted the formerly
white snow drifts. Black smoke belched from the brick smoke stacks over the
skies of Ipswich. The industrial port town’s progress polluted the air as much
as the snow.

After
another stop, questioning a stranger on the street if they’d seen an old woman
and a boy in red suspenders and getting no for an answer, Grant turned to her.
He glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s getting late and we’ve got nearly two
hours before we need to return to the boat. Would you like to stop a moment and
get a morsel?”

Raven
shifted her weight off her sore heel. “Whatever your inclination . . .”

Grant
buttoned his top collar and straightened his waistcoat before starting toward a
cafe. Raven blinked hard when she looked at the soiled hem of her travelling
dress. She shook her head and checked her hair in the shop window before they
entered.

“You
look fine,” Grant said to her as she tamed a loose curl.

Bells
rang at the opening of the door, drawing the few patrons’ attention as they
stepped in. Grant stood taller and offered his elbow as he lifted his chin.
Like he’d flipped a switch, he suddenly became the kind of man who would
frequent this sort of establishment. He moved his hands in the direction of the
coat rack and adjusted the hang of a couple as though leaving his jacket there
with the others.

He
offered her his elbow as he returned. She smiled and took it, willing to play
the part of a lady to his gentleman. A maître d stepped up and swept his arm
across the room as he said, “Good afternoon. We are fairly empty at this time
of day, so please choose a seat wherever you would like.”

Grant
bowed his head slightly and said, “Thank you. The lady and I would like a seat
by the window.”

“Good
choice, sir.” The man adjusted the sleeve on his black suit and led the way.

He
pulled a small white chair out for Raven and she sat in it, politely tipping
her head to him. Once seated, Grant ordered tea and a small meal of pheasant
and apple chutney. Raven’s stomach growled, and she hoped no one heard it. When
she darted her glance at Grant, he continued to gaze out the window as though
he hadn’t.

A
young girl across the café coughed and slouched in her seat. The older woman
sitting across from the child scolded her, “Drusilla, I knew coming to tea
would be too much for you. We really ought to get you home and under some
blankets.”

“But
Grandma, it’s Sunday and I must to have tea here with you. We missed last week,
and we always come on Sunday.” The girl looked a little older than Darius but
whined as though she were younger. Her blonde hair fell in soft ringlets around
her face, and she wore a powder blue dress with ruffles at the collar.

“This
cough of yours has gone on too long. I’d never have invited you if I’d known
you were still sick. I’ll have to stop at the herbalist—no wait.” The woman had
been speaking unavoidably loud up to this point, but as she leaned in to
whisper to the young girl, Raven’s ear twitched. “You should be grateful the
Wood Witch is in town. I’ve already made an appointment for myself, but she’ll
be happy to see you instead, I’m sure. She loves children.”

Raven
shot a wide-eyed look at Grant who returned the same. He put a finger up in a
motion for her to both wait and stay quiet. He stood up and sauntered across
the room toward the older woman. His shoulders squared as he leaned toward her
and began speaking in a low voice.

The
old woman shot a glance in her direction, and Raven did her best to appear
especially interested in folding and unfolding her napkin. Her ears strained to
hear but only caught the occasional word and phrase. She found herself leaning
in the direction of the other table when the waiter returned with the tray of
tea and a small appetizer of bread and butter. Raven thanked him and poured the
tea into both cups herself.

Grant
returned with a wide grin. The bell rang as the older woman and her
granddaughter pulled the door to exit. Grant waved to them both and called,
“We’ll see you later tonight, then.”

The
old woman returned his smile and nodded heartily as she put a hand on the
girl’s shoulder. They continued through the door and started across the street.
When Raven’s eyes returned to Grant, he buttered a portion of bread and leaned
across the table toward her. “Ask me what I did.”