“Well, if it isn’t my little fighting friend,” the dwarf hollers, peering past Eogan to Colin. “Come to see our show, ’ave you? Sorry to disappoint, but it won’t get on for another few hours.”
“Thanks, but we just came for food, friend,” Eogan says. “We’ll move on to the next village.”
“Move on, eh? Where you goin’? An’ where you comin’ from?” He rubs his chin with stubby fingers and eyes our trainer, as if gauging his character.
“From the southernmost point of the Hythra Crescent. We’re heading back to the High Court.”
The little man’s face perks up at the mention of the mountain range. “Got a look at the Sea of Elisedd an’ her warboats, did ya?”
“We did.”
The dwarf leans back on his heels and breaks into a grin. “Been meaning to get up that way myself.” He glances around. Chews his lip. “I’ll tell you what.” He waves a short arm to encompass the ground surrounding us. “If you don’t mind eating here outside camp, you can have the honor of breakfasting for a half hour with Allen the Fabler, Travelling Baronet.” He bows.
The curtain in the nearby cart jerks aside and the wrinkly old woman scowls down at him. He waves her away, muttering for her to mind her own evil business.
Eogan retreats his horse a few steps. “That’s kind of you, but—”
The dwarf jumps forward. “I won’t take no for an answer. I’m a bit starved for normal folk, if you know what I mean.” He juts a thumb over his shoulder at the cart. “The old woman’s paranoid, but don’t let ’er scare you.” He waves us down from the horses. “You’ll eat an’ tell me a bit of your travels and the war, and then be on your way.”
Without waiting for a reply, the dwarf trots off after our food with the old lady’s gaze following him. “Leave it alone, Mother!” he yells.
If Eogan cares that he’s just been bossed around by a dwarf, let alone one who recognizes Colin, he doesn’t mention it. Instead he gives us an unnecessary reminder to avoid offending Allen the Fabler, Travelling Baronet and his people. I peek at Colin. He’s busy giving a flirty wave with his injured arm to the old woman.
She slams the curtain shut again, and I smother a laugh.
When the dwarf returns, he brings bowls of who-knows-what drowned in spiced yellow gravy with blood-colored bread for sopping. We eat while the dwarf drills Eogan and Colin about the ships we saw and how soon we think Bron soldiers will breach the barren cliffs. I focus on my food.
“You seen the plagues yet?” the dwarf asks over the sounds of barking dogs and monkeys.
Eogan shakes his head. “Not up close.”
“Nor us. But we passed a traveller three days ago come down from the Fendres Mountains. Said he’d stumbled upon a tree village in Litchfell that ’ad black sheets hangin’ from every one of their doors. The stench was terrible. He gave it a wide berth and avoided hunting anythin’ in the forest just in case of contamination.”
I freeze. The plague is in Faelen? In Litchfell? Setting down my bowl, I discreetly edge away from the dwarf. “I didn’t know the plague had passed beyond the coast.”
He shrugs gravely. “It was on the western side of the forest, where most don’t dare roam. He suspected it either originated from there or else travelled down from the pass. Said the bodies were covered in boils and he found some animals like that too. Whatever the disease is, apparently even the bolcranes left the dead alone.”
Maybe that’s why the bolcrane and wolves were on the move. They’re being starved out.
“Folks say the Lady Isobel arrived yesterday,” the dwarf continues, “an’ there’s hope maybe she’s brought a cure.”
Eogan goes rigid across from me. “Doubtful.”
I raise an eyebrow, but he ignores me.
The dwarf studies him. “Why? You think it’s hogwash? Or you think she won’t ’elp even if she could?”
“Both.”
The little man rubs his jowls and nods. “I agree. It’s been so long since our elders have been in Drust. All we know is rumor these days. But I’ll tell you what—anyone comin’ outta that place can’t be trusted. Mark my words, that woman’s a Mortisfaire.”
He stands and takes our bowls. We scramble up and thank him.
“No need for that. It’s how I keep my ear to the ground.” He waves us off to our horses. He waits until we’re riding away into the morning sun before kicking his heels and traipsing back to his stilts.
Back on his own horse, Colin looks at Eogan as soon as the dwarf’s out of sight. “You gonna tell Adora that the plague’s in Faelen?”
“Of course.”
“You gonna tell her the Lady Isobel might have a cure?”
“I’m sure she’s heard it.”
Colin nods his head. “Right. Considerin’ Isobel’s probably already roomed up at the estate.”
I wrinkle my forehead in his direction. “What?”
“Isobel. She’s stayin’ at the estate while she’s in Faelen. Weren’t you listenin’ in the kitchen the other day?”