Captain Grant strode next to her, jogging to keep up. “What are you thinking?”
“What do you mean?” Raven furrowed her brow at him and then continued to look for a means to cross or travel the river.
“You shrugged and threw your hands up. I thought maybe you’d come up with a plan and rejected it.”
Raven shook her head. She didn’t need to tell this man her thoughts. “I didn’t think that the Wood Witch lived so near the road. In the stories, she always lived deeper in.”
“Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. I remember hearing stories about her being in the center of Preston Woods, near a lake.”
“Right, not a road. Not a river, for that matter.”
“Could she have more than one house? It would make sense then.”
He lost his footing as he stepped in between two stones. Raven shot out an arm to catch him. She smiled. Maybe it wasn’t just Gregory who lacked sure-footedness. She continued. “I thought at first that the house belonged to her daughter, and she was there to pay a call. She talked to the automaton as though it had thoughts of its own. Thoughts, choices, answers, even. But now we know it was just gears and cogs—it makes little sense anymore.”
He nodded, his eyebrows furrowing together.
Raven stopped and Colton stepped on her heel, unable to halt as suddenly. He apologized, and she rolled her ankle to relieve the small pain. She checked back upstream but could find no sign of the other two. “Do you think the others might have found something?”
Captain Grant shrugged. “Maybe, but I’m sure Rupert would give us a whistle if he wanted our attention.”
Raven nodded and continued downstream. The water had gained intensity and depth as they walked. Their walking became more difficult, as the shore drew into a narrow strip against the forest. Still, no matter how far she looked ahead, she found nothing helpful. She stopped again.
Colton caught himself just before stepping on her this time. The pale-haired man got on her nerves a bit. She eyed him as she spoke to Grant. “What do you suggest, Captain? Should we continue this endeavor downstream or turn back and rejoin the other two?”
As she finished her question, she spotted a dark object bobbing on the river and it was heading swiftly toward them. She shook her head and pointed. Grant and Colton followed her gaze. As the object drew near, she smiled. The dark-skinned guardsman sat at the middle of a small boat, with oars. Monroe, at the back, handled the rudder. He steered it to shore right where Raven stood. Grant and Colton grabbed the bow. Rupert hopped out and the three of them pulled it ashore.
The rickety johnboat seated more than six. Nikki leapt into the boat uninvited and lay at the stern with Monroe. He rubbed the dog’s ears, and she licked him full on the face. Raven tilted her head and grabbed the side, bound in and sat in the bow. Colton and Rupert sat in the middle, each with an oar. Captain Jack Grant pushed the boat off and hopped in. She caught him by the arm as he lost his balance. He settled in beside her, and she drew comfort from his close proximity.
Raven grabbed Grant's arm as the choppy water threatened to tip their craft. They settled into the fast flowing waves, and it seemed the oars were hardly necessary. Her cheeks burned, and she released Grant's arm, turning slightly away.
Monroe manned the rudder like a professional boatman. The morning sun that had followed them all day reached a zenith overhead. The woods surrounding the river swept by in a monotonous rush, unchanging. Raven yawned.
Captain Grant leaned toward her and whispered, “If you’d like to doze off, we could keep an eye out.”
She shook her head, but tired tears stung her eyes and she yawned again. Could she let her guard down around these men? She trusted none of them like she did her father. Without showing Grant what she was doing, she pinched herself in the thigh. She needed to stay alert. These men had had no more rest than she’d had. If they could continue, so could she.
Captain Grant nudged her with his elbow. In his gloved hand, he offered her a stick of jerky. His jaw moved in an even rotation as he bit off a stick from his other hand and chewed. Raven’s stomach growled. She hadn’t realized she’d been hungry until the food sat right under her nose. Grant smiled and moved the jerky toward her again. She nodded, took the small stick of meat, and said, “Thanks.”
Unused to sitting close to a stranger, she found it difficult to position herself comfortably. Their thighs touched on the small bench of the bow. It reminded her of when they’d ridden his horse together. Why hadn’t it felt uncomfortable that time? She’d never been so close to a man, except her father and Gregory. Unless it was in a fight, she’ never let one get this close. Her face flushed as she took her first bite of jerky and stared at the dappled light reflecting off the water. She needed to think about something else. “What do you know about the Wood Witch?”
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.
JACK 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.
Chronicles of Steele: Raven: The Complete Story Page 14