“We think that when word of this gets out, people will contact you and describe a ring, or necklace, or whatever to identify their friend or relative. You can identify some of the dead people with that on your table.”
The constable pulled his eyes away from more wealth than he’d probably ever imagined. He said, “Tell me about them. The ones you killed.”
Shell relayed the story quickly, explaining where they had placed the two murderers in the forest, and the ravine that stank so much they hadn’t gone near. He didn’t mention the wolf, but let the constable think he and Henry had slain the men. Shell didn’t mention the coins he and Camilla carried, either, but for the most part, the rest of the story was short, clear, and true.
The constable said, “You will go with me to this cabin? Take me there?”
“No,” Shell said. “We have important business, but Camilla has drawn pictures of the two men, and she can draw you a map that will take you there.” He pulled the oilskin from his backpack, careful not to let the coins inside jingle, and handed him the two folded images of the dead men. He wouldn’t want to have to explain the coins when he didn’t fully understand if taking them was right.
The constable reacted to the second drawing by saying, “I’ve seen this man. He’s been here many times.”
“We figured they had to buy supplies somewhere,” Shell said.
“I want you to stay for a few days, at least,” the constable said, firmly. “I must get this straightened out, and there will be more questions.”
Index finger poised to jab into his left eye, Camilla snarled, “I’ll draw you a map, but think for a minute to what almost happened to me and how I feel about this evil place. If you want me to stay here, even one more night, you had better get hold of the Earl, and tell him to bring the King’s Army.”
“I am the constable.”
Camilla sprang closer. “And I am one of three who made a choice to come here and report this terrible crime, draw you a picture of the two men, offer a map. We took justice into our hands to solve your problem, and then we handed over all that to your table. We have done our part and more. Maybe we should have just walked down the road, and you would never know what happened back there, so don’t you dare threaten me.”
Shell stepped between them. “Camilla, calm down. I know it was emotional, but I’ll keep my promise and get you safely to Fleming.” He turned to the constable. “I hope you understand, sir. If you need more information from us, but I doubt you will after you investigate, ask at Fleming for the home of Henry.”
Camilla said, “I’ll need a quill and ink. And a sheet of paper or I’ll draw your map on the back of that paper with the faces that I never want to see again.”
The constable hesitated.
Camilla said, “I will be well away from here by dark. You don’t have much time unless you want to try to find the cabin on your own, but you haven’t been too successful with that so far, have you?”
The constable rushed into another room and returned with the paper, quill, and ink. Camilla sat in the other chair and drew a detailed map, describing each landmark. But once the constable found the remains of the old, overgrown road, he couldn’t help but arrive at the cabin.
The sketch completed, Camilla stood, looked at Shell and said, “Henry and I will be waiting outside. We’ll be at the edge of town. Make this quick with the constable, or catch up with us later.”
She spun, shoved a bewildered Henry out the door and left the other two looking at each other. The constable said, “Your wife?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shell said, “My wife? No, I came west to find Camilla because I wanted a wife, but no, she is not.”
The constable looked as if he wanted to give Shell some friendly advice, but held his tongue on the matter. He said, “We got off on the wrong foot. This used to be a good village, a good place to live and raise a family. Because of the three of you, it will be again. I’ll spread good words about you, and if it takes you twenty years to return, I’m sure people around here will welcome you back.”
Shell shook his hand. “I hope you get all this straightened out.”
“What do I do with the jewelry when we cannot locate the owners?”
“That’s a problem we talked about, too. But it is now your problem to do the right thing. Maybe use the money you sell them for to create a fund to help people in this village that fell on hard times because of this? Or public works like a new water well or a town hall? Some whitewash for the buildings wouldn’t hurt, either.”
The constable said, “You go on; take care of your business, before that woman gets angry at you. If you ever need help, I’ll be here. And a word of advice, if you’ll have it. Don’t make that little woman angry again.”
Shell stepped into the late afternoon, half afraid Camilla and Henry would already be out of sight, but they were standing on the road, waiting. He rushed to catch up, wearing a smile that grew with each step.
Henry said, “I thought we were going to have to stay here.”
Camilla flashed an impish smile and said, “We have hills to climb and roads to travel.”
A laugh escaped Shell. “I never thought to ask for directions to Fleming.”
She shrugged, “If we reach the Endless Sea we went too far. Someone up ahead will point the way, but I want to sleep as far from this terrible place as I can tonight.”
They walked, none of the three looking back. Henry said, “Can we talk again about me coming with you two?”
“No,” they said in unison.
Shell walked on, enjoying the sounds and smells of the forest, much of which was unfamiliar. After a while, he said, “Henry, I will say this to you. None of us knows your family, and if they do not seem to be the sort you wish to live with, we’ll find you another place, like we’ve said. But neither of us is willing to put you in danger or a bad situation. There are good people who would love to take you in.”
“You’re my only friends,” he said, head hanging low.
They met a boy on foot carrying a sling and two dead rabbits. He told them a small town called Jalen, lay ahead. When Camilla asked how small, the boy said it was large enough to have an inn that served good food because he’d eaten there once with his family. The idea of sleeping inside appealed to all of them, good food even more so.
Henry said, “The inn will want money, won’t it.”
Again, Camilla and Shell traded smiles before she said, “We can afford to pay for one night.”
The town of Jalen came into view well before dark, and the inn was easy to find on the single road that passed through town. Shell had expected a larger community, but didn’t complain as they rented two rooms while smelling the stew in the kitchen simmer.
A girl about Henry’s age served them bowls of thick stew and fresh bread. The watered wine was weak with a sour aftertaste, but nobody complained. After eating their fill, they sat and enjoyed the warmth of the fireplace and the soft songs of a minstrel sitting in the corner singing familiar songs while people ate and talked.
Camilla and Shell listened to the conversations of the locals. They talked about the abundance of crops, a prize bull, and the advantages of a house with two stories. Others spoke about hauling firewood and selling it for a fee. Another table laughed at a story of a man who drank too much ale and entered the wrong house, where he slept until found in the morning, then went home to face his angry wife who wanted to know where he’d been.