I trudged east, watching for signs of the estate. As soon as I saw the mist creeping around the bases of trees, I sighed with relief and turned north into the mists. The skirt of my dress still wasn’t ideal for setting traps, but it was the only thing I owned that I could wear in the Water. Father’s old shirt would give too many people lewd ideas.
Too soon, I reached the wall and turned to follow it east—ignoring the gate that swung open in invitation. Finally, I reached the patch of ground that usually held some sort of bounty. The sight of withered brown tops of potato plants greeted me. Using my hands, I clawed at the ground until my bag brimmed with the brown globes. When I stood, the weight made me cringe. Carrying ten extra pounds from here to Konrall wouldn’t have been a problem, but to the Water? It would be a trying journey. Still, I hoped for something in my traps as well.
Retracing my steps, I approached the gate and nearly screamed when I was pulled from behind into the maw of darkness. Two strong hands gripped my upper arms and held me against a very large, furry frame.
I didn’t turn to look. I knew who had me, but I still remained unsure of his mood.
“Will you assent and stay, Benella?” he said softly.
Eight
“I cannot—”
“Then why have you returned?” he roared, hurting my ears and thrusting me away with enough force that I stumbled and lost a few precious potatoes.
“Because I’m hungry!” Angry, I picked one up, spun, and threw it into the dark. The muffled thud of the potato finding a target in the dense dark fog had me quickly regretting my loss of temper.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“If you had stayed, you would not be hungry.”
Such an open, foolish statement. Perhaps I wouldn’t be hungry because I would be dead. I kept my thoughts to myself and waited.
“So you walked from the Water just for food?”
He sounded very calm, and it worried me.
“Yes,” I said.
“From my estate?”
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight.
“Then I think it fair to ask for something in return.”
I remembered his last price and started to lower the bag of potatoes to the ground. I would not do that again. I wasn’t in a desperate enough situation.
“Wait. Before you give up your prize and have to return home with nothing but dirt-caked nails, listen.”
I paused with the bag almost touching the soil.
“I will generously give you as much food as you can carry in return for an hour of your time.”
Shaking my head, I set the bag down and barely saw the potatoes spill out.
“Stubborn,” he yelled in an almost inarticulate roar. “Why not?”
“I’ve told you once; I’m not a whore.”
He growled long and loud, the sound moving around me as he circled. I wished I could see through the mist.
“Who said anything about whoring?” he said finally. “I need someone to clean the estate.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“Just clean?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
“Then, I can accept,” I said, quickly bending to pick up the potatoes. Before the last one fell into the bag, he bade me to follow.
Only the sound of his footfalls led me because as we walked, the heavy mist seemed to trail us, or at least me. It was disorienting to walk blindly ahead. Well, not blindly, but seeing less than two feet before me was hardly reassuring at the fast pace he assumed. We walked a far distance when, suddenly, the same door from my prior visit loomed ahead.
I opened the door and went inside. For a moment, I saw little; then light streamed into the room from the high windows. For a moment, I wondered about the mist that had accompanied me then apparently vanished. But, the state of the kitchen distracted me. It was just as I’d left it, the large tub upside down near the cold hearth and the table turned on its end as a privacy screen.
“What would you have me clean?” I asked. Silence answered me.
Shaking my head, I set to work righting as much of the enormous kitchen as I could. I set shelves back onto their mountings, then lined them with the various cooking pots and stirring spoons that littered the floor. I pried apart one of the table halves and set the wood near the hearth for burning. Several chairs, broken beyond repair, joined the growing pile. The remaining chairs, which had a hope of being repaired, I sat near one wall. Nothing but dust and debris carried in by the seasons remained on the floor when I finished.
Though I knew I’d spent longer than the bargained hour cleaning, I went outside in search of grass and twigs to make a rough broom. When I finished, I spent a good while longer sweeping. Satisfied with my work, I swept the last bit outside the door and went to the counter to shoulder my prize, the bag of potatoes.