46. ALL THERE WAS

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"No bird was singing in it now.

A single leaf was on a bough,

And that was all there was to see

In going twice around the tree."

—Robert Frost

It was no accident; it was no random attack. Nothing had been taken, nothing else was out of place. Cripps and Rooster had been dragged across the grass, trails of blood leading from the spots their lives had ended. When my family had died, it was messy. There was no rhyme or reason for it, I'd stumbled across chaos. This was not chaos. This was planned, it was clean, it was effective. They were put exactly where I would find them.   

I screamed. I screamed until my voice ripped apart, I screamed until the birds flew from the trees and the wolves howled in return. Arthur wrapped his arms around me, rocking me back and forth as my heart melted out of my body. He tried to cover my eyes, to move me from their bodies, but I'd dug my fingers into the ground in protest. It felt like my brain was about to burst from my skull, like my chest had caved into a gaping hole, like there was no up or down. I held Cripps' cold, firm hand in my own. I wished to pass my warmth to him, to give him the life I no longer wanted.

I tried to beg, to bargain with a god I didn't believe in. But no words came out, only strangled sobs in a voice I did not recognise. Arthur cooed words of comfort, he sat between me and the bodies to block my view. But it was too late, I'd seen it all. It was already burned into my brain. How his body had stopped so suddenly above his shoulders, a gap where his signature smile should have been.

"Come on, Nora. Let me help." Arthur pleaded, his voice ringing distant in my ears as he pulled me away.

There was no way to help. For all of Arthur's many talents, he was not a necromancer.

It had been long a month since I'd agreed to work with Cripps, and I had begun to get used to having him around camp. He spoke too much, drank too much, and worked even more than both of those combined. We had made decent money from our first sale, enough to allow me an extended break from my work as a saloon girl. He promised that everything would be shared equally, and he had not gone back on that.

"I should have done this a long time ago, I'd be rich by now!" he laughed, counting out his earnings.

"It's good money." I agreed, lighting a cigarette. "How will you spend it?"

"Well, we need a bigger wagon. So, I suggest we both pitch in for that, will earn us more on the next run." He said, raising the half empty bottle of rum to his mouth and taking a long swig. "What about you?"

"Oh, I'm gonna get myself a nice coat. I been too cold for too long." I chuckled, shuffling closer to the fire.

Cripps considers me for a moment, watching as I wrap the blanket around myself. He groans, pushing himself up from the log and heading into his tent. I heard him rummaging around in there, things being knocked off the sides.

"You fallen over in there, old man?" I jest.

"Oh, you're gonna regret bein' so mean to me."

"Why? You gonna fire me?" I asked, laughing.

"Can't fire the boss." He replied, remerging from the tent, a large roll of leather in his hands. He walked back over to the fire and placed the leather down on my lap. "There, take a look. It ain't finished yet..."

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