Lemus nodded. "Take the back stairs. I kept the third room on the left for you. Keep your head down. We've got a couple of Margolan guardsmen in the common room tonight, and one of them took a room upstairs for the night."
"Lovely," Soterius murmured.
Alle went ahead to scout the hallway; the others moved as quietly as they could up the back stairs. She checked to make sure their room was empty, and then waved them on. Inside the room, Tadrie set the girl down on the bed. With a whimper, the girl curled into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees. Tadrie took a blanket from a peg on the wall and gently tucked it around her. The two wounded soldiers found seats on a chair and a bench. Alle lit two lanterns and then she smoothed down her skirts and straightened her hair.
"I'll send the healers right up. And I'll bring up some stew and ale. I'd best go have a look at who's in the common room, so that we don't have problems later. Wait here. Don't go wandering around."
"I'm too cold to wander anywhere." Soterius leaned back against the wall and ran his hands up and down his arms to warm himself. Despite his heavy cloak he was chilled through. It would take time, even in the warm inn, for him to feel comfortable again.
"Aye, everyone but Mikhail was feeling the wind tonight, I wager!" Tadrie replied.
Alle returned before long with a thin, hawk-faced woman, a pot of stew, and a pitcher of ale. Tucked into her belt was a large napkin filled with hard rolls. Alle laid the food on the small table as the hawk-faced woman looked at the girl and the two injured men.
"This is our healer, Kae. She'll take good care of your folks. Help yourself to the food—it's warm. Lemus has sent more of the same out to the barn, so your men should be warming up!"
Kae quickly triaged the wounded, and started on the two soldiers first. Alle motioned for Soterius to step to the side.
"The Margolan guardsmen downstairs," she whispered. "I don't like the look of them. Lemus says they've been throwing their weight around, bullying the servers and threatening some of the customers. They've taken a room for the night, just a few doors down. Keep your head down—the older one talks like he's spent time at Shekerishet. You don't need to be recognized."
Soterius looked at her, startled. "Oh, I know who you are, Ban Soterius. Captain of Bricen's guard. And I'll wager I wouldn't be the only one. No one's where they're supposed to be these days. And even fewer are who they pretend to be. That beard's not much of a disguise."
Alle moved to help Kae with the healing, dutifully fetching hot water and whatever ingredients the healer needed for her poultices. Soterius tore strips of cloth for bandages from a clean sheet Alle thrust into his hands. Tadrie stayed close to the village girl, talking to her in low, reassuring tones, like a father with a sick child. Soterius guessed that Tadrie's wife would find herself with a new charge once the girl was well enough to travel.
After a couple of candlemarks, Kae finished her healing. The wounded fighters rested on pallets on the floor. After much coaxing and reassuring, the wounded girl permitted the healer to tend her wounds, and drank a mixture of herbs and warm wine that guaranteed her a peaceful sleep. When Kae finished, she washed her hands in the basin Alle provided and looked from Alle to Soterius.
"I've been to the village that girl came from," Kae said sadly. "They were honest tradesfolk. They did nothing to deserve what happened to them. What she's been through... I've healed her body, made sure she wasn't with child, but there are scars I can't fix. She needs a mind healer." Kae's hand tightened to a white-knuckled fist and shook against her skirt. "I'm glad you killed the ones that did that to her—saves me from breaking my healers' vows."
"I killed their captain myself," Soterius assured her. "He had it coming."
"I'll be back to check on them before dawn. They should all sleep well tonight, and feel no pain," Kae looked back at her three charges. "On the other hand, they're in no shape to flee if we get raided tonight."
"I'll stand guard," Tadrie volunteered, patting the pommel of his sword.
"Come downstairs with me," Alle said to Soterius. "Lemus has information for you from what he's heard in the common room the last few nights."
They were halfway down the narrow hallway when a loud voice sounded on the front stairs. The speaker was well into his ale.
"Margolan officer!" Alle hissed. The door behind her was locked, and they were too far from the back stairs to run without being caught. As the footsteps approached the top of the stairs, Alle fell backward against the wall, grabbing a handful of Soterius's shirt and pulling hard against him. He lost his balance, bracing himself against the wall with one hand on either side of her shoulders. Alle reached up and pulled his head down, crushing his lips against hers. Her leg slid up and wrapped around his hip. She gave a shrug, letting her blouse fall provocatively from one shoulder.
"Someone's lucky tonight!" the drunken man chortled as he and his companion started down the hallway. "How about coming to see us when you're finished?"
Alle thrust out her hand, rubbing her fingers together as if to ask for coin.
"Poxy whore!" the man's companion spat as they shoved past. The two made ribald remarks, laughing at their own jokes, until they reached their room at the end of the hall and the door closed behind them.
Alle pushed Soterius away, straightened her blouse, and smoothed her skirt. "Don't let it go to your head," she warned, and then flashed him a wicked grin. "I figured it was better than killing them and having to clean up the blood. And we've all got to make sacrifices for the war—right?"
Soterius gave her a sour look that made her laugh. "C'mon. Lemus is waiting."
After another candlemark in the kitchen, Soterius was finally warm once more. His mind buzzed with the bits of information Lemus shared: overheard troop movements, rumors about Jared's interest in an alliance with Nargi, and unsettling tales about soldiers in the cities sent to round up and eliminate dissenters. It was almost dawn when Soterius finally made his way back to the barn, and while he thought he might be too full of thoughts and worries to rest, exhaustion won out, and sleep found him quickly.
CHAPTER NINE
STADEN gave his whole-hearted permission for Tris to set up a Court of Spirits in the weeks before Winterstide. Word spread quickly, and Tris was aghast to see how many petitioners, living, dead, and undead, lined up to receive the blessing of the first Summoner to pass through the kingdom in years. Tris began the Court of Spirits just a few days after he returned from the citadel. Within a week, the court was so crowded that Tris could not see all of the petitioners in a single day. Many camped outside the palace wherever the guards would permit, awaiting their place in line. As Winterstide grew closer, both petitioners and spirits seemed to be filled with a new urgency to make things right before the solstice. Staden often watched from the back of the great room, shaking his head in awe at Tris's ability to intercede between the living and the dead.
Inside the great hall, many of the revenants could not be seen by anyone except Tris. These spirits lacked the power to show themselves except on the night of the Feast of the Departed—"Haunts" as it was called. Other, stronger spirits made themselves
Winter Kingdoms expected their loved ones to remain with them after death. In Margolan, most households set out a plate with a token amount of food at the evening meal, inviting their departed loved ones to join them. Some of the more devout households even had a "spirit room," a small box with miniature furnishings and tiny replicas of personal items to entice family spirits to dwell alongside them in comfort and respect.