Page 11 of The Noldrin Witch

Morgaine seemed puzzled for a moment, but her eyes quickly lit with understanding.

The woman laughed. “I’m not a whore. I’m a witch, dear.”

Chapter 6

Morgaine might as well have told Elise she was in the habit of eating human flesh or had single-handedly destroyed an entire kingdom, for the girl entered such a state of frozen terror that Morgaine feared her soul had abandoned her slender body altogether.

She remained there watching Elise’s face contort as though her confession had sparked some irreconcilable conflict with the girl’s deepest beliefs. The wind was beginning to bite at Morgaine’s skin, but she didn’t want to be the first one moving. Even though she glanced up at the darkening sky and could tell a storm was on its way, she was more curious about Elise than worried about some passing rain.

Elise didn’t move for another couple of minutes. The benevolence she awakened in others was suspicious. One could tell just by her clothes that she was not an honorable member of the rabble like the rest of the procession.

Morgaine had seen how the fellows around her were already taking notice, eyeing Elise as if she were a steaming dish laid out for their consideration. She felt the unpleasant instinct to intervene before some fool behaved in a manner that could only be answered with a slap…or, should the situation demand it, a dagger.

Morgaine liked to think of herself as a deeply compassionate woman. In most situations, she also liked to fancy herself a free soul, one who conducted her business with just enough propriety to avoid the dungeons. She had her history with the king, but thankfully she had long been relieved of matters of the court and was content to live a life of low profile.

The peace of her recent days had only been clouded by the small imprudence of war. Ah, how she wished men did not like to play with their swords whenever someone failed to hold their tongue, though she knew women could be just as fickle in their aggressions.

The world had shown her enough for Morgaine to know this would not be the last conflict between Falaine and Bromheim. She had seen it all; she had lived it all. And with that extended experience came a fair share of perks and annoyances.

She preferred to dwell on the brighter, more pleasurable parts of her days. In recent years, that approach to life had given her an allure capable of captivating nearly any young man she crossed paths with, a type of attention she could not bring herself to discourage.

Only in a few sparse cases did mundane affairs pull her from her daily pleasures, and she was careful not to let any of them distract her for long. Elise had been one of those moments, stirring a most merciful side of her and reminding her that there was, on occasion, some small pleasure in helping others.

The poor girl had Falaine written all over her, on her face, in her dress, in her softness, and most of all in her manners, all of it too eager to belong somewhere better than the stiff lands she came from.

Morgaine had long since learned that meddling in other people’s affairs rarely ended as she wished. Even when done under the noble excuse of helping, people never took kindly to the gesture. The story the girl had been spreading during the journey was, at best, a polite distortion of the truth. Morgaine knew the families of both kingdoms well enough to figure she belonged to none.

She would keep an eye on this one. There was something in Elise that had caught her curiosity, and she was not in the habit of denying herself any impulse, though she would do it without inviting unnecessary trouble. Not even a war was reason enough to disturb the comfortable life she had arranged for herself. She would not live forever, after all. With luck and the right potions, another three hundred years of quiet contentment would do nicely.

The trip had been enough to piece together the situation between Bromheim and Falaine. She had been a mere youngster when Noldrin belonged to Bromheim, but a few centuries of no one paying much mind, and people quickly forgot that small detail. Now they behaved as if Falaine had managed Noldrin since the divine creation.

She would have liked to spread the true story to a few willing ears, but she knew better than to pretend people enjoy burdening themselves with facts rather than tales. Elise would be no exception. She was already frightened enough.

Morgaine decided to finally break the silence between them. “If you’re looking for a place to stay, I can accommodate you for a night or two.”

The girl’s gaze snapped to reality. She swallowed hard and looked at Morgaine as if the invitation to lodge in her house was less appealing than spending the night in the rain among the rubbish heaps. But Morgaine was no one to let pride cloud reason. After all, she was a giving soul.

“Come on, it’s freezing here.”

“I’m most thankful for your generosity,” the girl whispered, her head low. “But I’ll find an inn. I would not wish to trouble you more than I already have.”

Morgaine let out a heavy sigh. “Do as you wish.”

She turned toward the apothecary while Elise made her way south.

Morgaine, an expert in all the places where one might find a bed for activities that rarely involved resting, already suspected the girl would come to trouble if she wandered into the less reputable inns of that part of the city.

“Go north, dear,” Morgaine called, seeing Elise was already far enough to spare politeness. “There’s only work for harlots that way. Real whores!”

Elise blushed and hurried on, before the attention of those around her began to suggest anything further.

“Ha,” Morgaine laughed as she watched Elise disappear.

In that moment, something sparked Morgaine’s imagination. As Elise ran, her dark hair trailing in the wind, Morgaine found a strange resemblance to herself. At the right distance, and with a forgiving lack of light, one might easily mistake one for the other.

Lucky girl.

*****