The Jack of Souls (Multi-award winner!)

Chapter 11a - Good Riddance

Red Moon, White Moon, full in the sky

Red like a witch's evil eye.

Black eats White,

And leaves the Red.

Kratos' Moon, we'll all be dead!

 

— Children's rhyme describing "Kratos' Moon," a mythical event in which the Unseen Moon eclipses the Bright Mother, heralding tides of war and plague as the Mad Moon reigns unopposed in the sky. 

Chapter Eleven

Caris laid Harric on a bench in the kitchens. Mother Ganner stood at the bread table with her round fat back to Caris, working flour into one of many mounds of dough on the boards. Caris removed her helmet, and looked about warily. Even in her present state of excitement, she noticed the uncharacteristic silence in the kitchen. The serving girls stood together in the pantry, as if afraid to be noticed. More ominously, the Great Room adjacent to the kitchens, which usually roared with revels till midnight, was as hushed as the pale hours before dawn.

"Mother Ganner?" Caris said.

The widow turned her plump face toward Caris, without interrupting her kneading. In a sling across her bosom was a baby — one of her cooks' daughters — sleeping peacefully to the rhythmic swaying of her work. When Mother Ganner saw Caris she stopped kneading and curtsied with a muttered, "Lordship...."

Her face seemed odd to Caris in the uneven firelight, but what first seemed a trick of the shadows snapped into clarity as Caris stepped closer: the left side of Mother Ganner's face was as swollen and purple as a wine melon.

Caris sucked her breath. "Mother Ganner! What happened?"

For several heartbeats the widow stared at Caris, trying to reconcile the familiar voice and face with the hard and polished armor.

"Caris, girl? What...?" Her eyes found Harric and widened. She wiped her hands on her apron and bobbed to his side. "Harric, la! You should be far away by now. What you gone and done?" She brushed his hair from his eyes and examined his battered face. "Don't we make a pretty pair," she muttered.

Caris's breathing eased, but her heart still reeled with fierce emotion. The berserk reaction she experienced when she found Harric in danger upset her deeply.

"He's got to run," said the widow. "You both best run."

"We are. I mean, he was. I am, too." Caris grimaced, uncertain now why she'd planned to go alone.

Two serving girls crept from the pantry to peer at Harric, but Mother Ganner jabbed a fat finger at them, the flesh on her arm shaking imperiously. "Get back in there. Go on! I don't want you tattling he's here, tempted by their dirty silver. Soon as Missy and Wallop come back from the Great Room, they'll stay with you, too, till I say. But one of you fetch me that kettle with the herbs I meant for Lyla. And bring a bowl of rags."

"I need to go," Caris said, abruptly. She dropped the sock of coins Harric had given her onto the bench, then forced herself to take a step toward the door.

Mother Ganner looked at her, brow furrowed, but only nodded. "Gods leave you, girl."

Caris stalked to the stables.

Free.

She'd done the right thing. She could mount and ride from Harric and Gallows Ferry with clear conscience and clean heart.

                    * * *

Harric opened his eyes and stared at the widow for a moment before he recognized her. "Ma?" he said.