Raven's Heart (𝓒𝓞𝓜𝓟𝓛𝓔𝓣𝓔)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The acrid tang of smoke hung in a haze over the hayfields. The charred remains of the barn and partially burned rolls of hay were strewn about. Even what wasn't burned was mostly ruined by the water used to put the blaze out.

Aside from a few minor burns and a twisted ankle, there were no injuries. Men had come from all around at the sight of the smoke. The barns were Ranfurly owned, but the hay inside was community property.

Sandor looked around at the damage done, angry and puzzled. What sort of person would do such a thing and why? Who would have such a vendetta against the farmers here? Thankfully they had plenty of hay elsewhere, and could buy more if necessary, but what if they struck again? Finding out who had done this thing was a necessity he couldn't ignore. Picking out a few capable men, he combed the area for any clues.

As he rode home in the half-dark after sunset, Sandor's mind was churning. They had found some footprints, an empty oil jug and the stump of a torch. It was certain the fire was no accident. The footprints were a worker's boot in an average size, which pointed to the arsonist as an average male, which was little help. There was even a slim possibility that it was a woman with large feet.

Sandor was stuck on the why as much as on the who.

He had asked the farmers who had stored their hay in the barn, but none could give him a likely suspect. None of them could give the name of an enemy, or had been in any disagreements recently. If it wasn't a vendetta against the farmers, that left two likely possibilities—that it was a random act or that it was directed not at the farmers, but at Ranfurly itself.

He arrived at the keep late, to find all in bed, save his faithful steward. Maddex brought him some food, which he made short work of before he went to the bath to wash. He could still smell the lingering taint of smoke as he made his way upstairs. He stopped for a moment, his fingers resting on the door handle of his wife's bedroom. Carefully opening the door a crack, he listened and could hear her soft regular breathing. Resisting the urge to wake her, he left her to sleep and went to the master suite to sleep alone.

Anaya woke in the morning to find Sandor already gone. Maddex told her that the Duke had left at dawn to see to the replacement of the barn. Setting aside her disappointment, she applied herself to learning all Sophia and Merna could teach her about the household.

At mid-day, word came that another barn had been burned east of the first, and again all the hay was a loss. The Duke was on the site, and one of the men had been badly injured. Their meal was solemn that evening, and again she went to her solitary room.

Anaya felt lost. Since he had ridden away from their carriage, she had not seen Raven. She had expected him to wake her and talk to her when he returned from the first fire. In that expectation, she had fallen asleep planning how to help ease his worry, and talk over the incident before they slept. Knowing that he would be weary, she would have foregone mashiwe, but she longed for the warmth of sleeping in his arms, at least.

Instead he had slept alone. And once again she was alone, and he was out there somewhere in the night, facing danger and another disaster. Chiding herself for being selfish when he was needed elsewhere, she tossed and turned before finally falling asleep.

Quiet rage burned in Sandor's chest. That it was the same arsonist was certain, and this time one of the farmers had been injured. The healer said the man would pull through although he would carry scars from the burns and for that the Duke was grateful. He walked once more around the smoldering rubble, pleading with providence for some sign to show him what he could do to stop this insane chaos.

He had sent a message to Halbern, and guards now kept watch on all the barns near the keep. By tomorrow every barn in Ranfurly would have watchmen. His fear was that, being foiled from striking the barns, the arsonist would pick another target—perhaps one that would do more damage or hurt more of his people.

Beneath the anger over the damage and the injured man there was a sense of betrayal as well. This was not how things were supposed to be. He should be settling down to married life, not chasing a madman. Yet here he was, looking for clues to stop a vendetta he didn't understand.

Once again, he returned home after all were abed. He ate only because Maddex insisted, washed his torso, but not his hair and fell into bed with the smell of smoke in his nostrils. Just before dawn he was pulled from sleep by another urgent message.