The Wretched of Muirwood by Jeff Wheeler Read Free Book Online Page B

wounded young man started for the ladder to the loft, but Lia caught his wrist. “There are windows. You will be seen. There, behind the changing screen!”
    He rushed to the wooden screen beneath the loft. She could see part of his boots in the gap beneath the screen and cursed herself. Another heavy knock sounded and she crossed the kitchen to the door.
    “What will we do?” Sowe whispered fearfully.
    Lia silenced her with a glare, then had an idea. “Take the kettle to the screen and rinse your hair. Tell him to hide in the tub.”
    “I am not going to bathe…”
    The look Lia gave her must have been more frightening than a grim-visaged Leering, for Sowe snatched the kettle and rushed to the screen without a word. Lia watched the boots disappear and heard him settle into the small wooden tub they used for bathing.
    She raised the crossbar and pulled the door open a bit, grateful that the glass was so smudged with soot. Light from the lamps spilled out on Jon Hunter’s bearded face. His clothes were filthy, his shirt loose from the leather girdle, the collar open to a forest of gnarled hair.
    “Oats, Lia,” he said and started to push past her, but she held the door and put herself in the gap.
    “Sowe is washing her hair. Go to Ailsa’s kitchen for oats if you are hungry.”
    He sighed. “Lia, I am not walking to the other kitchen when I am here.”
    “Why not? Is she trying to kiss you or something? Or just being stingy with the honey ladle?”
    Jon sighed, his eyes flashing. “You have been lingering around Reome too much. The oats are not for me.”
    “Who are they for?”
    “I am not supposed to tell anyone. Another reason I came here.”
    “Very well. And you know Pasqua’s rules about letting anyone into the kitchen but the Aldermaston after she is gone.” She rested her head against the door and raised her eyebrows.
    His voice was soft. “Does the Aldermaston know you stole one of the rings from the old cemetery?” he whispered, nodding down to the front of her dress.
    Lia nearly lost her composure. She had forgotten to tuck it back inside her dress and now he had seen it. She said as calmly as she could, “The Aldermaston knows everything that happens at Muirwood. Surely you know that. Why do you need the oats? You know I can keep secrets, Jon Hunter. You know that very well.”
    He sighed. “I will tell you, but remember it is a secret.” She nodded eagerly. “I found a horse in the woods today.”
    “Really? Can I see it?”
    He smirked. “If you do not tell anyone, Lia.”
    “Even Pasqua?”
    “Of course not her, though you know the Aldermaston trusts her.”
    “I will fetch your oats then.” She held the door a moment and then shouted, “Sowe, don’t come out yet. It is Jon.”
    She quickly ascended the ladder and carried down a sack of oats. After shoving it into Jon’s hands, she was about the close the door when he stopped it with his boot.
    “Whose shirt is drying by the fire?”
    For a moment, Lia’s mind emptied of all ideas. Jon was trained as a hunter, and his watchful eyes noticed everything, first the ring and next the shirt. She stood for a moment, guilty, her ideas gone to the winds. Her mouth went dry. What could she say? What could she tell him?
    “It is my secret,” Lia said, blushing uncontrollably, and then she had the next idea. “I cannot share it, but you could ask Reome since she knows.”
    Jon gave her a confused look and withdrew into the night.
    After she shut the door, she pressed her forehead against it. Hiding a man for three days would be more difficult than she thought.
     
     

 
     
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    “The first commonly accepted reference to the term ‘Aldermaston’ was engraved in the Third Tome of Soliven, one of the more tedious texts that learners struggle to translate their first year. The passage can be read thus: ‘And he that is the Aldermaston among the brothers and sisters of the Family, upon whose head the anointing oil was poured,