The Pillars of Creation (Sword of Truth 7)

“I did, Mother,” Jennsen confided.

Her mother paused only momentarily; then, without further question, she embraced Jennsen in protective arms. After such a frightening day, Jennsen openly welcomed the balm of her mother’s hug. Finally, with a comforting arm encircling Jennsen’s shoulders, her mother urged her toward the door.

“Come inside and get yourself dry. I see you have quite the catch. We’ll have a good dinner and you can tell me…”

Jennsen was dragging her feet. “Mother, I have someone with me.”

Her mother halted, suddenly searching her daughter’s face for any outward sign of the nature and depth of the trouble. “What do you mean? Who would you have with you?”

Jennsen flicked a hand back toward the path. “He’s waiting down there. I told him to wait. I told him I’d ask you if he could sleep in the cave with the animals—”

“What? Stay here? Jenn, what were you thinking? We can’t—”

“Mother, please;, listen to me. Something terrible happened today. Sebastian—”

“Sebastian?”

Jennsen nodded. “The man I brought with me. Sebastian helped me. I came across a soldier who fell from the path—the high trail around the lake.”

Her mother’s face went ashen. She said nothing.

Jennsen took a calming breath and started again. “I found a D’Haran soldier dead in the gorge below the high trail. There were no other tracks—I looked. He was an extraordinarily big soldier, and he was heavily armed. Battle-axe, sword at his hip, sword strapped over his shoulder.”

Her mother canted her head with an admonishing expression. “What aren’t you telling me, Jenn?”

Jennsen wanted to hold it back until she explained Sebastian, first, but her mother could read it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. The terrible threat of that piece of paper with the two words on it seemed almost to be screaming its presence from her pocket.

“Mother, please, let me tell it my way?”

Her mother cupped a hand to the side of Jennsen’s face. “Tell me, then. Your way, if you must.”

“I was searching the soldier, looking for anything important. And I found something. But then, this man, a traveler, came upon me. I’m sorry, Mother, I was frightened by the soldier being there and by what I found and I wasn’t paying attention as I should have. I know I behaved foolishly.”

Her mother smiled. “No, baby, we all have lapses. None of us can be perfect. We all sometimes make mistakes. That doesn’t make you foolish. Don’t say that about yourself.”

“Well I felt foolish when he said something and I turned around and there he was. I had my knife out, though.” Her mother was nodding with a smile of approval. “He saw then that the man had fallen to his death. He—Sebastian, that’s his name—he said that if we just left him there, then, more likely than not, other soldiers would find him and start questioning us all and maybe blame us for their fellow soldier being dead.”

“This man, Sebastian, sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”

“I thought so, too. I had intended to cover the dead soldier, to try to hide him, but he was big—I could never have dragged him over to a cranny by myself. Sebastian offered to help me bury the body. Together we were able to drag him over and roll him into a deep split in the rock. We covered him over good. Sebastian put some heavy rocks atop the gravel I scooped in. No one will find him.”

Her mother looked more relieved. “That was wise.”

“Before we buried him, Sebastian thought we should take anything valuable, rather than let it go to waste in the ground.”

One eyebrow arched. “Did he, now?”

Jennsen nodded. She pulled the money from her pocket, the pocket that didn’t have the piece of paper in it. She dumped all the money in her mother’s hand.

“Sebastian insisted that I take it all. There’s gold marks there. He didn’t want any for himself.”

Her mother took in the fortune in her hand, then glanced briefly to the trail where Sebastian waited. She leaned closer.

“Jenn, if he came with you, then perhaps he thinks he can have the money back at any time of his choosing. That would give him the opportunity to look generous and win your trust—and still be near enough to end up with the money when he chooses.”

“I considered that, too.”

Her mother’s tone softened sympathetically. “Jenn, it’s not your fault—I’ve kept you so sheltered—but you just don’t know how men can be.”

Jennsen let her gaze drop from her mother’s knowing eyes. “I suppose it could be true, but I don’t think so.”

“And why not?”

Jennsen looked back up, more intently, this time. “He has a fever, Mother. He’s not well. He was leaving, without asking to come with me at all. He bid me a good-bye. As tired and feverish as he is, I feared he’d die out in the rain tonight. I stopped him, told him that if it was all right with you he could sleep in the cave with the animals where he could at least be dry and warm.”

After a moment of silence, Jennsen added, “He said that if you don’t want a stranger near, he will understand and be on his way.”

“Did he? Well, Jenn, this man is either very honest, or very clever.” She fixed Jennsen with an intent look. “Which do you think it is, hmm?”

Jennsen twined her fingers together. “I don’t know, Mother. I honestly don’t. I wondered the same things as you—I really did.”

She remembered, then. “He said that he wanted you to have this, so you wouldn’t have to fear a stranger sleeping nearby.”

Jennsen drew the knife in its sheath from behind her belt and held it out to her mother. The silver h

andle gleamed in the dim yellow light coming from the small window behind her mother.

Staring in astonishment, her mother slowly lifted the weapon in both hands as she whispered, “Dear spirits…”

“I know,” Jennsen said. “I nearly yelped in fright when I saw it. Sebastian said that this was a fine weapon, too fine to bury, and he wanted me to keep it. He kept the soldier’s short sword and axe for himself. I told him I would give this to you. He said that he hoped it would help you feel safe.”

Her mother slowly shook her head. “This does not make me feel safe at all—knowing that a man carrying this was near us. Jenn, I don’t like that one bit. Not one bit.”

Her mother’s eyes showed that she was on to worries bigger than the man Jennsen had brought home with her.

“Mother, Sebastian is sick. Can he stay in the cave? I led him to believe that he has more to fear from us than we from him.”

Her mother glanced up with a sly smile. “Good girl.” They both knew that in order to survive they had to work as a team, with well-practiced roles they fell into without the need for formal discussion.

She let out a sigh, then, as if with the burden of knowing all the things her daughter was missing in life. She ran a hand tenderly down Jennsen’s hair, letting it come to rest on her shoulder.

“All right, baby,” she said at last, “we’ll let him stay the night.”

“And feed him. I told him he would have a hot meal for helping me.”

Her mother’s warm smile widened. “And a meal, then.”

She drew the blade from its sheath, finally. She gave it a critical appraisal, turning it this way and that, inspecting its design. She tested the edge, and then the weight. She spun it between her slender fingers to get the feel of it, the balance.