Page 13 of The Noldrin Witch

Even at night, the city showed itself plainly. The streets were narrow, the houses leaned, and everything carried a faint air of better mind your own business.

Here, war had not yet extended its courtesies. It would be only a matter of time. Morgaine guessed that by now places like Noldrin were already in disarray, taken by the Bromheim army and with little hope of regaining their freedom.

After walking what felt like half the city, Morgaine was considering ending her search for Elise and finally returning to her own dwelling. That was, until the sight of a bright blue dress beneath the rain caught her eye.

“There you are,” Morgaine said.

Elise lifted her head with a grimace.

She drew closer. “What happened?”

“The fares in the inns are too high.”

Morgaine shook her head, not surprised that the merchants of the city preferred their coin local and their foreigners far away.

“How much?” Morgaine asked out of curiosity.

“Two silvers a night?”

Morgaine gasped. They were charging thrice their usual fares to people from the enemy kingdom. It was as she had suspected; Elise’s pretty face had earned her no exception.

She was impressed to see Elise so poised even with her wet clothes and the mud clinging to her skirt. It reminded her of her own stubborn self. She admired people who in the midst of adversity and humiliation could still hold their heads high. It showed her the girl had enough venom to survive the city.

Elise was eyeing the basket in Morgaine’s arm with a look of longing one might reserve for a lover’s letter.

“I have meat for four people and bread that could go hard if not eaten in time,” Morgaine whispered.

Elise hesitated, quickly breaking the devoted gaze she had set on the edibles.

“Why do you want to help me? Are you planning on…” Elise waited as if it was up to Morgaine to finish her question.

“What kind of witch do you take me for?” Morgaine laughed, though she stopped herself as she remembered having heard of a few of her kind who kept their cupboards bare and their meat cuts...questionable.

“You are in more danger among thieves and scoundrels here than in a poor woman’s house,” Morgaine added. Unaccustomed to the habit of begging, she was beginning to tire of having her thoughtfulness met with suspicion.

She was ready to turn and leave Elise to the fate of her choice when the girl stood up as if she had suddenly made up her mind about the comforts of the streets of Metz.

“It would be just one night,” Elise said. “I would look for employment tomorrow.”

Morgaine didn’t disagree. She herself was starting to eye the contents of her basket with far more interest. It had been a long trip, and with all the activity involving Henrik and the others, she found herself needing to calm another sort of appetite.

“Come along, then.”

Chapter 7

Elise walked alongside Morgaine through the city. The witch strolled through the streets as if she owned the entire place. Elise found herself more at ease in her company. There was something about Morgaine that was both captivating and even winsome, if she allowed herself the thought. The weather was worsening, and they hastened their pace, leaving little opportunity for talk during their trek around Metz.

The new city appeared charming enough to Elise, though its people had proven far less appealing than its architecture. Thankfully, she was not someone to be discouraged by a few frowns and grimaces. Besides, she had already seen proof that kindness had not been entirely chased out of the walls of Metz. Already two people had been charitable enough to her: the duke and Morgaine. Perhaps she had been unreasonable in expecting a different sort of welcome.

She recognized she was still frightened at Morgaine’s side, though her instincts stubbornly refused to flee the situation.

A witch.

Elise’s mind was filled to the brim with questions and suspicions, but she was not one to spoil a free lodging, especially when the townspeople had already turned cold toward her during her wandering through the northern side.

She occupied herself imagining the worst possible outcomes of having followed a witch. But, generous of spirit and possessed of a most optimistic sort of judgment, she soon calmed herself with the hope that she could find her way out of almost any inconvenient situation. Besides, regrettably curious as she was, the idea of setting foot in a witch’s house suddenly caught her interest greatly.

When they reached one of the thick city walls, Elise began to look over the humble houses, wondering in which of them she might finally change her wet clothes. But instead of burdening herself with the search for a key, Morgaine walked straight to the wall and, after wrestling with a large dry bush, revealed a gap in the old fortification.