The Glass Casket Read Online Free Page B

certain.” The old man’s mind seemed somewhere far off, and when he spoke again,he did so slowly, choosing his words with care. “I am an old man who no doubt clings to the old ways, but I do not like the direction this meeting has taken. Five men died up on that mountain today. In my opinion, you men did the right thing by setting them alight. I stand behind you on this. Not a one of you will face punishment. We will take to arms before we let a distant king tell us how to lay out our dead. And yes,” he said, raising his hand as if to stop any questions that might come, “I do consider them our dead. Those men came to our land, and they died on our mountain, and we are responsible for their bodies. Obviously, we weren’t able to perform rites, and so we weren’t able to lay them at the Mouth, but you did the best you could by them, and moreover, you did the best you could by us, by Nag’s End. I’ll not have some … scholar”—he spat the word as if it were poison—“telling good people they’ve done wrong.”
    He looked at the men who sat around him, and they smiled back at their elder, relieved to have someone defend their actions so vociferously. Seeing the admiration in the men’s eyes, the other elders, Paer Jorgen and Draeden Faez, nodded their agreement.
    “I think we three can stand together on this sentiment,” Paer Jorgen concluded, raising a gnarled finger.
    Tom, still unconvinced they were dealing with a wolf, spoke up again. “You say it was an animal born of the Goddess that killed those men, but then why were there no tracks around the bodies?”
    Paer Jorgen narrowed his eyes at Tom. “There had been fresh snow. The tracks would have been covered.”
    “Of course,” Tom said, the words seeming almost to slip from him. “The scavengers.”
    “What’s that?” Paer Jorgen asked, growing increasingly cross.
    “Scavengers,” said Tom, unable to contain himself, for suddenly he understood what had bothered him up on that mountain. “Why was there no evidence of scavengers? If they’d already been up there several days, then why were four of the bodies untouched? And what of the winter rats? What of the snow beetles?”
    The room grew silent, all eyes on Tom.
    Tak spoke up. “Tom’s right. There wasn’t anything. There should have been something, but there wasn’t. It doesn’t make sense.”
    “Perhaps the snow provided a barrier,” said Ollen Bittern. “Whatever the reason, we will keep it in mind.”
    Paer Jorgen cleared his throat. “Research will need to be done, of course, and oracles consulted, before we can speak more freely. We will need time.”
    The men agreed, and with that, they clinked their tall mugs and moved on to lighter topics, the meeting officially adjourned. When Henry Rose returned from the cellar, he was met with questioning eyes.
    “Did you find anything, then?” Paer Jorgen asked.
    Henry Rose sucked on his bottom lip.
    “Nothing of interest, no. It’s difficult to say, but as far as I could tell, there is nothing of use to us down there.”
    Paer Jorgen nodded. “It was nice to think that our mountain might conceal a secret treasure trove, but it is, alas,unlikely. A disappointment, yes, but then we are Nag’s Enders. We are born of disappointment.”
    Henry Rose bid Tom farewell and thanked the Parstles for their hospitality before heading out into the night. What Tom did not see, what no man saw, was that inside his winter undercoat, buttoned fast against the wind and snow, sat the soldier’s logbook, pressed like a lover’s secret over the scholar’s trembling heart.

    It wasn’t until the next day that Tom saw Rowan’s enchanting stranger, and when he did, something stirred within him. He was passing through the village square when she caught his eye. Extraordinarily beautiful, she moved with the grace of a spritely fawn, and as she came to perch on the low stone wall that surrounded the village well, Tom felt certain he’d seen her