PDCOO Chapter 33

The chief's lined eyes held irritation. His mouth bent into the gentle curve of a man who has just arranged for someone else to pay his pest-control bill.

"Well. Living out in the country has its compensations. We do hope you'll be generous with that courage of yours—all the way from the capital."

The soldiers went to collect their gear.

Franz, to Karlah's mild surprise, went with them.

"You're going too, sir? I thought you'd sit this sort of thing out."

"Swords are being drawn. That's my area. Whatever the opponent, I can't have soldiers moving without orders." A glance at her. "Don't tell me you want me to stay."

"The onions."

"...Pardon?"

"...Never mind."

'I was going to put him to work on Bertram's onion pile if he said no.'

That splendid face streaming tears over an onion pile. What a picture that would have made.

Unaware of how narrowly he'd escaped, Franz clicked his tongue at the failed provocation, swung onto his horse, and rode out.

The restaurant, which had been turbulent all morning, was finally empty.

Now waiting for Karlah: the washing-up from a table of five large men.

"Honestly. On a normal day I'd only have had to wash three people's worth..."

She stopped.

She'd been about to say two.

But at some point, a person had been added to the corner of this restaurant.

The one who ate whatever Anna had burned for breakfast, fragments and all, and still said thank you, that was good. Who, while Karlah washed the dishes, took a cloth the size of his own palm and quietly wiped down every table. Who repaired roof tiles without being asked and said nothing about it afterward.

"...There was a sack of onions for you to sort, and a bag of flour to knead," Karlah said, to the empty air outside the door. "You great fool."

She was still standing there, staring at nothing, when someone walked in.

Dieter.

The hollow feeling evaporated.

"About time! You—do the dishes!"

"What, just like that, without even a greeting?!"

"Am I your mother?"

"If you're not my mother then why are you ordering me ar— that's not the point!"

Dieter lowered his voice and leaned close.

"The knight from the capital—where is he?"

"Went out to deal with wolves."

"...Wolves. Right. Understood."

"What does you understanding it have to do with anything? Tell me why you're here. And do the dishes."

"I—I just came to visit! Let me go!"

Dieter struggled against the hand Karlah had put on his collar. She held on. And shortly, she understood exactly why he'd come, and why he'd asked about the knights the moment he walked in.

Because Bertram came into the restaurant right behind him.

Dieter flapped his hands in clear agitation—go, leave, get out—but Bertram was already looking at Karlah.

"Karlah, did you call for me?"

"...Did Dieter tell you I did?"

"Yes."

"Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha."

The hand on Dieter's collar released—and then Karlah's arm was around Dieter's neck.

"Ukh—"

"You," Karlah said into his ear, very quietly. "You heard the soldiers were looking for Bertram, and brought him right to the door. Told him I was calling for him. Yes?"

"Mffhm—I—misunder— kh—!"

"The only misunderstanding here is you calling me Mother! Don't live like that!"

"But—you're uncomfortable with him too—aren't you, Mother—!"

"Being uncomfortable with a son-in-law who's only half-formed would make me more uncomfortable!"

Dieter, face gone entirely colorless, pounded the floor to submit. Karlah released him with a kick toward the kitchen.

"Peel potatoes! The whole sack, before you leave! And Mr. Bertram."

"Yes."

"...Have you eaten?"

When she finally had him in front of her, that was the only question she could find.

It was, however, the most important question in the world.

Bertram gave a sad answer.

He shook his head.

"Dieter found me before I'd eaten. I haven't had anything yet."

"Oh. Anna went up to you loaded with food and you must have missed each other."

Bertram turned toward the door to go to the lodging.

Karlah got to his shin first.

"Don't bother. If you missed each other once, you'll keep missing each other every time you move. Sit down."

"Understood."

"...And I have something to say."

"I'm listening."

Bertram seemed already to know what was coming.

He sat down neatly in front of her. Karlah steeled herself, and said the heavy words she'd been about to hand off to her daughter.

"Leave the village. Even if you're not a criminal—having armed men wandering around puts a strain on us."

"...Understood."

"The pursuers are at the ranch dealing with wolves through the morning. If you don't want to run into them, go now."

"Yes. Thank you for everything, until now. Be well."

He was on his feet before the sentence was done.

Something hollowed out in Karlah's chest, watching him.

Is this it, then. No request to stay a little longer. No asking to see Anna first. Not even a complaint.

But Bertram did not look back. His back moved into the light, and then the light had him.

"...Ha. Just like that. Gone the same way he arrived—without any warning at all."

Dieter stuck his head out from the kitchen.

"Is he gone?"

"He's— goodness, my head. What is wrong with me!"

"What? Did he steal something?!"

"I sent him away without breakfast! What do I do with that?"

"Don't have a crisis over that!"

"He told me himself he hadn't eaten anything all morning, and I sent him out empty-handed! How is that not a crisis?"

Dieter looked heavenward, and then—too late, as was his custom—had an idea.

"Mother. Pack something and I'll catch up to him and hand it over."

"Hilarious. I can see right through you. You'd go straight to the soldiers and turn him in."

"I—th—that's not true!"

"Don't bother, and save your life. Go peel potatoes where I can see you."

"What?!"

"Bertram was a soldier. He'll have seen your little plan from the beginning. If I were him, I'd wait just around the corner and wring your neck the moment you came into view."

"Ugh..."

"If you understand, peel potatoes in front of me."

Dieter submitted, quietly, to the potato sack.

Meanwhile, Bertram's feet were moving toward a single destination.

He had said yes to Karlah.

He had not said he was leaving.

He hadn't yet heard Anna's answer.

Franz and the soldiers had come all this way from that distant capital—he was sorry for their trouble, truly—but Bertram intended to hide until they tired and went.

He ran for the refuge on the mountainside.

The cursed castle.

Anna arrived at the workers' quarters trailing smoked meat smell all the way up the path.

Empty.

The shirt and cloak still turning on the laundry line confirmed Bertram had been here. She grabbed the first worker she could find.

"Where did Mr. Bertram go?"

"Looked like he headed down with Dieter a little while ago."

"……Oh, that—yes. Thank you!"

"Don't mention it. Here to feed Bertram breakfast? Brought a lot of good things by the smell of it."

The worker's nostrils widened. The meat had done its work on him.

At this point, feeding Bertram directly was going to be difficult regardless. Anna spread the food she'd brought across the table in the quarters.

"Please share this between everyone."

"Didn't you bring all this for Bertram? We're allowed?"

"Of course. I'll make something new and feed Mr. Bertram myself."

If the chance arrived.

She stuffed the rest of Bertram's belongings into her now-lighter bag and started running.

'That son of a bitch Dieter—where did he drag Mr. Bertram off to? Please don't tell me he took him to do chores at his house.'

She stopped at Dieter's house. Collie answered.

"Haven't seen him. What'd that idiot pull this time?"

Anna ran on with nothing to show for it. She had run entirely out of breath by now.

She circled the village. And circled it again.

Eventually she found herself back at the restaurant, which needed to be opened for the lunch service.

Someone was peeling potatoes in the corner.

Anna smiled and ran forward—

Arms flung wide, smile already in place, potato still in hand—

"Anna!"

Dieter.

Anna drove one solid punch into his solar plexus, which handled the problem of him speaking further, then turned to Karlah.

"Mama!"

"I sent him away. He won't have run into the pursuers."

No subject stated.

One sentence. End of discussion. Karlah threw an apron to her daughter and turned back to the counter as if nothing had happened and nothing was going to.

It felt like being grabbed by the collar and dropped back into ordinary life from a height.

"Get the lunch service ready. Nothing happened. Understood?"

"……Yeah."

The answer had no one home. Karlah frowned, but there was nothing more to say.

Anna moved through the rest of the morning exactly as she had moved through every other morning, on a head that was entirely empty. Welcomed the guests. Delivered meals to the farm workers……

Franz's party didn't return until evening. Whatever ground they'd covered, the hands the soldiers raised their spoons with were shaking. Only Franz looked more or less whole.

Karlah spoke with a pleasantness she usually reserved for enemies.

"You were so late back, I thought a wolf had carried you all off."

"I apologize for the disappointment. The wolf's teeth weren't quite ripe yet, it seems."

Franz shook his right arm.

The bandage began at his elbow. Drawn tight enough to show the muscle beneath, dark staining on the inside where the bite marks had soaked through. He'd fought a wolf, and the wolf had gotten a proper hold.

Karlah went quiet. However grating the man was, injured people weren't suitable targets.

But Franz had no intention of letting the moment close there.

He extended his left hand toward Anna—making sure Karlah was watching—and said:

"As you can see, my arm being what it is……. Anna, would you be so kind as to assist me with my meal?"