Tattered Souls - Part 7a

The next morning, Rastellion and the two older men walk down from Rastellion’s rented rooms to a small market square, where they’ve arranged to meet Zandrianna.

“Well, I didn’ like ‘er”, Cuthberd is complaining as they go. “She was givin’ us funny looks all mornin’.”

“Who,” Rastellion asks, “my landlady? She was?”

Ceolfred chuckles. “Given how rude you were, Cuthberd, count yerself lucky it was just funny looks you got an’ not a whack over th’ head with that ladle o’ hers.”

Cuthberd grumbles and swings his crutch faster as they descend a slight slope. “Weren’t even good porridge. A proper woman outta know how to cook better’n that.”

Ceolfred notes Rastellion’s expression stiffen at this comment and taps his nephew’s shoulder, pointing beyond the small plaza they’re just entering. "Nice little neighborhood. An' Bree jus' past that rise, you say?"

Rastellion nods. "And the millpond is just along that stream a bit, around the bend.” He angles them toward a painted wooden bench under a spreading willow. “Zandrianna should be here soon, then we’ll go up there and make introductions. It's the miller's widow that's been looking after Zandrianna’s daughter these past days."

Cuthberd flops onto the bench and stretches out his maimed right leg. He rubs at the stump and glares so fiercely at some passing children, who've paused to look at the curious sight, that the youngest one takes flight. The others chase after. "Don' know why it has t' be so early. I feel like that damn horse is still tryin' t' throw me."

Across the square, Zandrianna pauses to allow the children race by. Seeing Rastellion, she lifts her hand in greeting and heads their way. "Well met gentlemen," she says as she approaches, then gives Rastellion a quick hug.

Ceolfred nods a greeting. "An' to you, Zandrianna. We was just sayin' what a nice spot this is." He offers Cuthberd a hand up. "Best not get too comfortable here; the lady’ll want t' be getting’ on t’ see her daughter."

As Cuthberd struggles up from the bench, grumbling, Rastellion steps closer to Zandrianna and asks in a low voice, "Have you had any ideas how we're going to find Immalaine? We don't even know the name of this man that you say ... that abducted her."

Zandrianna glances at the others, then lowers her voice. "I've been attempting to figure that out myself, Rastellion, but right now I really don't know. All I know is I have to do something and ... I'm scared we'll be too late." She furrows her brow.

Rastellion shivers. "I'll ask around Bree, too, then, after I show pa the mill. Maybe ... maybe someone there saw something?" His tone reveals that he knows this is a faint hope.

Zandrianna takes a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm. "First things first, however. I've not seen my daughter for several days now and I miss her." She turns her eyes in the direction of Rossiath's house. "Shall we head there now?" she asks, though it’s more statement than question.

Cuthberd pulls his crutch under his arm. "Aye, so long as were're up an' about so damn early, why not climb another long road? Mebbe ford a river or climb a mountain or two while we’re at it."

Ceolfred steps to Zandrianna's side, ignoring his brother-in-law. "Lead on," he says, gesturing grandly ahead. Rastellion trails behind as they set out, biting the edge of his right thumbnail.

As Rossiath’s house comes into sight, the four see Merry dash down the steps and across the yard, closely followed by Emrabeth. Merry, excitable to begin with, seems especially agitated and energized that morning, barely slowing to nod to Zandrianna and the men in passing.

Emrabeth, however, pauses and looks over at the group. "Morning," she says to them, grabbing Merry's arm to stop her.

"Good morning girls," Zandrianna replies, looking at the two with wry amusement. "And where are you off to in such a hurry this early? Not up to your usual mich ..." Zandrianna pauses, taking a good look at Merry's face, reaching to push her hair back from her cheek and revealing the large bruise along her jawline. "Merry!" she exclaims, "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Ceolfred and Rastellion both step forward a half-pace at the alarm in Zandrianna's tone, moving past Cuthberd, who is leaning against a stone wall, rubbing his nethers and muttering something about horses.

Merry attempts to cover the bruises on her face, but Zandrianna has a good hold of her hair. "It was some men. Mrs Rossiath and I were following them cause there was one in the group ... I remembered seeing him the day Immalaine left with that man." Merry looks over at Rastellion and her eyes widen to see him returned.

Emrabeth's mouth is set in a grim line as she listens to Merry, her free hand balled in a fist. "You'll have to excuse us, but it's urgent we return to Bree. I need Merry to identify a man that may have been one of her attackers. If he is ..." A slow sneer appears on her face, her eyes turning cold as a winter storm.

Ceolfred steps forward. "Yer pardon, ladies." He gives Zandrianna an apologetic glance as he interrupts. "I'm Ceolfred, Rastellion's uncle from up north. 'M a trapper, an' I know a thing or two 'bout trackin'." He turns his attention to the two young women. "Now, tell me straight. Where's this man? What makes you think 'e might be one of those as attacked you? Or abducted Immalaine?"

For a moment, Emrabeth looks Ceolfred over, her eyes guarded. After a brief internal debate, she finally nods at him and replies. "I'm Emrabeth, a friend of Merry's here. After she told me what happened to her, I had her take me to the house in town where she’d spotted the men, the ones that attacked her and that widow. I've been watching the place for a couple of days now, waiting. Today, I saw a couple of fellows show up, early, and go inside the place. Then, a messenger comes along on horseback. I hadn't seen anyone new go in there before today. So, I've come to get sweet here," she turns and nods at Merry, "so she can tell me if she recognizes any of the new faces."

Ceolfred nods, listening intently. "Is one of these that man that abducted Immalaine? You thinkin' mebbe she's in this house with'im?"

"No," Merry replies, her eyes glancing past the group and up the road. "We’ve not seen him since, though I recognized the servant that was with him that day. And I don't know, but I don't think they're keeping her in that house. It didn't seem that way at least."

Zandrianna reaches out for Merry, stepping between the two girls and the road. "And the two of you are just going to return to Bree to do what? Confront these men? On your own?" Beneath her breath, Zandrianna mutters a rohirric oath.

Ceolfred thinks for another moment, then says decisively, cutting the girls’ answer off, "No. I’ll go with these two and they’ll show me where this house is. We'll keep out o' sight, don’t worry.” He pauses, considering. “An’  I'll want t' stop off back at Rastellion's lodgings on our way, to grab my pack." He looks around at the others. "Don' mean t' run off, but I'm more likely t' spot somethin' than these girls, keen as their eyes and wits no doubt are." 

Rastellion nods at him. "Go," he says, urgently. "It's the first lead we've had. Should I come with you?"

Ceolfred shakes his head. "Nay, stay with yer pa. I'll come get you, or send word, if sommat happens. For now, I just want t' see this place, an' have Merry here point out anyone she recognizes. 'Specially if there's extra goin's on there today.”

He places a gentle hand on Zandrianna’s shoulder. “But don' worry. If Immalaine's in there, we'll not go bargin' in. We'll set the Watch on th' house, then catch 'em slippin out th' back while th' Watchers are bangin' on th' front door with all th’ subtlty of a bull in heat." He gives Zandrianna a quick smile. "Guess I'll have t' meet your little one a bit later."

Zandrianna smiles back at Ceolfred. Then he turns and heads back down the road, the girls following. Zandrianna continues to watch until they’re out of sight. Finally, she lets out a wistful sigh and turns to face Rastellion and Cuthberd. "Well, while we're here at least we can visit with Rossiath. You can see how Althessia has grown."

Rastellion turns his eyes back from the departing figures as well. "I hope they find something," he says quietly. He points to a gate ahead, at the end of the lane. "This is it," he tells his father. "The mill I spoke of."

Zandrianna places her hand on Rastellion’s shoulder before she turns and leads them into the mill-yard. “We'll go inside then, and...” Her voice trails off as she spots Rossiath step off her porch and start towards the well. The older woman’s right arm is bundled in a sling. "Theoden King," she says beneath her breath, heading towards the older woman.

Rastellion's eye widen as he takes in Rossiath's injury, and he follows hard on Zandrianna's heels. Behind them, Cuthberd advances to the gate, where he holds onto the fence and watches.

As she approaches, Zandrianna can see that Rossiath's face is bruised, a large cut on her chin. The biggest injury, however, seems to be the woman's arm, the sling pulled tight from her attempt to carry a bucket to the well. "Rossiath! Are you alright? Has someone seen to that?" Zandrianna reaches forward, intent on taking a closer look at her friend's arm.

Rossiath sidesteps, shaking her head as she smiles wryly at Zandrianna's attention. "Land's sake child, of course I've had it seen to and it's not so bad really. Just a small break. Healer said I'd be good as new in a few weeks’ time."

Rastellion steps forward and holds a hand out for the bucket. "Here, may I help with that?"

Rossiath turns to look at Rastellion, her mouth set in a line as she prepares to argue, but Zandrianna's fussing leaves her flustered and she hands over the bucket. "Suit yourself, young man, seeing as I won't be getting this child off of me anytime soon."

Rastellion nods at her and rolls his eyes meaningfully behind Zandrianna's back as he answers, "Aye, well I know; she can be stubborn as a tick on a sheep." He turns with the bucket and heads toward the well, a slight grin briefly lightening his somber expression.

Zandrianna lets out a huff. "I'm hardly a child Rossiath," she replies. "And as a healer, it's my duty to check your injuries." Gently, she steers the older woman to the steps, so they can sit down.

Rossiath watches Rastellion draw the water from the well as Zandrianna fusses over the sling. "Welcome back home, young man."

Rastellion turns from the well, to smile uncertainly at her, and notices his father still standing by the gate. Rastellion gestures him over, but Cuthberd seems unusually hesitant. "I'll just stay here," the older man says. "Don't need to be a bother." Rastellion stares at him a moment, then shrugs and starts back toward the stoop with the full bucket.

Zandrianna finishes her brief examination of Rossiath, then looks past her to the door. "Althessia?" she asks.

Rossiath stands up, brushing off her apron the best she can. "That babe of yours is inside, sleeping in her crib still. She's been a pleasure to have around, I'll say true." Lifting her hand to her eyes, Rossiath looks towards the gate at the older man hanging back. "Set that water in the house, near the hearth if you would," she says to Rastellion, before starting across the yard to greet the stranger.

Rastellion turns for a moment as the widow heads toward his father. He opens his mouth to say something, then shrugs, a faint grin touching his lips again, and heads up the steps. He holds the door open for Zandrianna to hurry inside, but pauses on the threshold, turning to observe the exchange by the gate.

"No sense standing here like a peddler, sir,” Rossiath says, “when the tea and breakfast is inside."

Cuthberd straightens and frowns at her. "I'm no peddler, ma'am, but Rastellion's father. And I'm fine settin' here, if it's all th' same t' you. Sun's warm an' we're jus' here t' pick up th' babe." He moves his crutch behind his back slightly and leans against the fence again, casual.

Rossiath shakes her head. "Nonsense, it ain't any warmer than it was yesterday and if you're Rastellion's father then I may as well feed you both at once. Besides," she adds, as she turns and heads back up to the house, "Biscuits are best eaten while they're still warm."

Cuthberd opens his mouth to protest, and finds himself staring at her retreating back. He scowls after her, then pulls his crutch under his arm and limps after. "May as well get sommat more t' eat after bein' dragged out o' bed t' go larkin' about the place," he mutters.

Inside, Zandrianna comes out of the small room that had been hastily turned into a nursery, Althessia in her arms and a blissful smile on her face. "See?" she says, pointing to Rastellion, over by the hearth. "There's the reason I was gone." She heads up to Rastellion, grinning, and continues. "Say hello to uncle Rast."

Rastellion straightens from setting the bucket down and shoots the baby an apologetic look. "Not my fault," he mouths.

Zandrianna bounces Althessia in her arms and settles into a nearby chair, where the child gurgles delightedly in her lap.

Behind them Cuthberd follows Rossiath into the mill-house. He pauses at the entryway and looks about, gaping a bit at the dark wood and rich furnishings. He blinks once or twice, then his face falls back into its usual disgruntled lines. "Well, here’s a fancy bit o' this an' that," he mutters. "Guess it's easy t' pretty th' place up when y' ain't got no damn orcs as neighbors."

Rossiath moves to the cupboard to gather mugs and plates for everyone. Turning, she sees Rastellion's father hovering by the door and motions to a nearby bench. "Have a seat, I'll bring you over a plate as soon as I have them all set,” she says.

Cuthberd looks at the polished bench she's indicated and moves gingerly toward it, cautious about where he places his crutch on the smooth floor. He lowering himself onto the edge of the bench, then, with a grimace of distaste, pushes a few embroidered pillows out of the way before leaning back, stifling a slight sigh of relief.

Rastellion steps toward Rossiath. "Here, I can get some of that." He gestures. "Your arm... that happened in the attack? Merry said... you saw the men who took Immalaine?" he blurts, his expression suddenly pleading.

"I'm not sure who we saw, though I believe Merry. Especially after they tried to knock me down and drag the child off." Her expression softens and she offers him a plate of biscuits and fried sausage. "Go have a seat, I'll see to your father. Don't worry none, I can still tend my guests proper, even with my arm all wrapped up."

Rastellion doesn't move to take the plate. "But what'd you see?” he insists. “What'd they say? Merry said she recognized one of them?"

Rossiath shakes her head. "All I recall is following a man through the streets of Bree to the outskirts, Merry insisting she'd seen him the day Immalaine disappeared. Next thing I know we had two on us, one trying to drag off the child and the other coming at me. I hit him pretty hard, right where it hurts most, and ran for the Watch." Rossiath pauses for breath, before continuing.  "Of course, Watchers never seem to move quite fast enough, and the two of them fled, but not before one of them got a good swing at me and I ended up with a face full of rocks. And this," she indicates the sling. "Should have hit him harder," she mutters to herself, pushing the plate at Rastellion.

Rastellion takes it reflexively, his jaw clenching. "So, no help on finding Immalaine then." His shoulders slump.

"If Merry is right, and those men came from the one that took her, you’d have to find them again. Otherwise ..." Rossiath frowns, leaving the sentence unfinished, and carries a new plate over to Cuthberd, who accepts it with a grunt of thanks. He pokes at the food a bit dubiously, picks up the biscuit, sniffs it, then takes a small bite. "'S'not bad," he mutters, grudgingly, then wolfs it down in short order, crumbs tumbling from his lips to land on his lap and the bench as well as the plate.

Rastellion looks after Rossiath. "That's all? Hoping to follow some men that Merry thinks she might recognize?" He looks over to Zandrianna. "Isn't there anything else we can do? Anyone to talk to?"

Rossiath heads back across the to retrieve her tea, sighing deeply at Rastellion's distress. "Believe me, young man, I've thought about it. If there were another way, I'd have figured it out. No," she says, her own eyes filled with worry. "This is our best chance. That and .... oh!" Her eyes light up, and she taps her finger on the side of the mug.

Rastellion abandons his untouched food on the table. "Oh? Oh what? What is it?"

Behind them, Cuthberd realizes that he's rather liberally covered the polished floor and fine furniture with biscuit crumbs. He shoots a quick glance around the room to ensure that no one has noticed, then surreptitiously starts trying to gather them up and drop them back onto his plate.

Rossiath nods. "Why didn't I think of it sooner? Of course!" She approaches Zandrianna’s bench so the other woman can also hear; Rastellion follows. "Before the attack, I was having lunch down in Bree with Bonnie from the mayor's office. She told me something that has me puzzled and worried. Zandrianna? Recall when you house got broken into?"

Zandrianna nods, her eyes a mix of anger and frustration. "Yes, it was right after I found out about Immalaine. The only thing missing was the deed to Immalaine's farm …"

Cuthberd glances up to the far side of the room, hearing tension in the voices, but he’s unable to make out the words. He looks back at his bench, now mostly clean, then down at the crumbs on the floor. Awkwardly, he, leans down to try to brush them up while the others are preoccupied.

Rossiath nods. "Well, Bonnie told me that the deed showed up at town hall, along with a marriage license with Immalaine's name on it. Maybe that’s a lead?”

Rastellion reaches out and grips the back of Zandrianna's bench. "Marriage... marriage license? She..." His mouth works a moment or two longer, then anger clouds his face. "Marriage license," he repeats, voice cold. He lets go of the chair, straightens, and turns toward Zandrianna. "Seems your guess was wrong, after all. I should have known that ... should’ve known she'd ..."

He turns, draws a deep breath and addresses Rossiath, voice unnaturally steady. "Thank you for breakfast, Rossiath. I ... If you'll excuse me, I should be heading back to my lodgings." Not waiting for a reply, he pushes past and heads towards the door, his pace quickening as he crosses the room.

Cuthberd, bent over and brushing the floor, catches the motion at the edge of his vision and looks up as his son races past him. "Here, Rastellion! Where d'ya think yer..." He reaches up to try to catch the young man's sleeve, but is too slow; Rastellion is already half-way out the door. "Hey I ... oh."

Overbalanced, Cuthberd thrusts his right leg out to catch himself, only to have the stump flail ineffectually a few inches from the floor. "Oh crap!" Then he topples off the bench onto the floor with an audible wuff of expelled breath.

Rossiath turns as she hears the thump, just in time to see Cuthberd sprawling on the floor, face reddening. She makes her way over to the bench and reaches down with her good arm. "Here, I've taken a tumble or two off that bench myself. Damn leg needs to be fixed, but with things being as they have been, I've not had the time or anyone to do it for me."

Cuthberd ignores the offered arm; he turns and pushes himself back up to his one good foot. "I can manage fine on m' own, woman," he growls, scrabbling for his crutch and nearly toppling over again before he snags it and pulls it securely under his arm. "There ain’t no fixin’ this leg. But I’ve been doin' for m'self since th' damn orc arrow struck me an' I don't need no charity t' help me back on m' own feet." He turns again, the crutch thumping, and scowls angrily at her. "An' jus' what'd y' say t' my son t' send him stormin' out like that?"

A look passes over Rossiath's face, a mixture of consternation and concern. "I was telling him about a conversation I had with an old friend in Bree, that Immalaine's deed showed up there along with a .... ohhh," Rossiath pauses and then turns pink. Zandrianna approaches, and Rossiath takes the baby from her. “Go on,” she tells the younger woman, and Zandrianna hurries outside, after Rastellion.

Cuthberd grunts and hobbles after. "Don' know why they brought me 'long at all, what with all this rushin' 'bout wit' no sense," he mutters. He hesitates at the door. "An' those biscuits weren't half bad," he says over his shoulder, before grabbing the crutch more firmly to hobble down the stairs. "Rastellion!" he calls. "What're you thinkin', boy? Don' be runnin' off an' leavin' me in these strange parts."

Zandrianna makes her way across the yard, trying to catch up with Rastellion's longer stride "Rastellion, stop. Would you please .." She breaks off, swearing, as she trips over a divot in the lawn.

Rastellion turns at her cry, hesitates, sees Cuthberd making his painful way down the mill-house steps. He sighs and starts back. "I'm sorry, Zandrianna. I know you meant well but ...well, marriage contract." He spreads his hands, anger still darkening his face. "It's like I said back up north - she went back to that other man, the one she had before. Marriage contract. No arguing with that, is there?" He kicks at a loose stone on the path, sending it flying into the verge. "I'm going home." He starts to stride away again, then remembers his father and turns back, fists balling and unballing at his sides.

Zandrianna reaches for his hand. "Rastellion, listen to me. Marriage licenses can be faked - or forced. And I, for one, don't believe it. Not after what she told me, not after the deed was stolen from my very home. No, Rastellion ..." She lowers her voice. "I'll not believe anything, unless I see it for myself and hear it from Immalaine. I'll go to town hall and speak with Bonnie myself. Come with me."

Rastellion shakes his head. "No, this was stupid. I should never have come back. Never let myself think..." He turns away again from Zandrianna and the mill.

"What's this?" Cuthberd asks, finally reaching them. "Givin’ up? I didn't raise you t' be a quitter, boy."

Rastellion goes rigid, but doesn't turn back. "You were the one who said..."

"Never mind what I said back north," Cuthberd interrupts. "You an' this Zandrianna of yours done dragged me an' your uncle all th’ way down here t' Bree. Near two days on those damn horses. I'd sooner be tossed int' tha' pond there than git back up on one o' them nags an' head back north today. You came this far; see it through an' put an' end t' it, once and fer all."

He begins limping down the road. "Now take me back t' tha' lodgin' house of yours so I can rest my bones. Then you get on int' th' city and talk to this Bony woman or whatever. An' no more backchat."

Rastellion watches Cuthberd's figure struggling along the path. He looks to Zandrianna and opens his mouth to protest, but catches the steely glint in her eye. He throws up his hands. "Fine. Fine. We'll go to Bree and talk to Bonnie an' put an end t' it." He starts after his father. "Once and for all."