Lars helped settle Aghen on his good leg while Malvin slid under his shoulder to support him. “Ran into some cobbles, Eny. Nothin we could do. But these fine lads from Faldorrah helped us.”
She blinked back tears and nodded, glancing at Lars again. “Then they must stay and break bread with us. ’Tis the least we could do.”
“Oh that’s not necessary,” Lars said, helping Aghen hobble forward. “We really should be on our way.”
“I insist,” Malvin said. “A full belly will aid your travels.”
They neared the porch and the younger of the two girls scurried into the house before Lars could get a good look at her. The other, a slender girl with long, lighter hair and freckles on her tea-with-cream skin, pulled an old chair out of the way and held open the door. “Want me to run over to Aghen’s place?” she asked. “Tell his family he’s laid up?”
“You better, Gaille,” Aghen said. “Tell Bria to ready the cart’n come fer me.”
Lars helped Malvin lift Aghen onto the porch and felt Gaille’s gaze on him. He glanced up, offering her a friendly smile, and she blushed and lowered her eyes. They were dark, the color of a polished walnut.
“Excuse my daughter,” Malvin laughed as they guided Aghen through the door. “We don’t get many young men wandering onto our place.”
“Pa!” Gaille said, exasperated. She glanced at Lars one more time then hopped off of the porch and ran toward the road.
Lars didn’t know what to say so he just shook his head and shrugged. Malvin’s home was humble and spare but clean. Smelled like spices, savory cooking, and vinegar. Homey.
As they lowered Aghen onto a chair, Eny bustled through the door with an armload of firewood, Otlee following her with a bundle of his own. “I sent the others to put Uncle Tully in the barn then wash up, Pa,” she said, dropping her load into the box by the fireplace.
“We really can’t stay,” Lars said as Otlee dropped his load of wood in the bin then trotted to the door.
Eny glanced at Lars and started stirring whatever cooked in the pot. “Pfft. I ain’t never seen a fella what would turn down rabbit and dumplings.”
“I done fetched some preserves,” the youngest girl said, coming from an open door behind Lars. “We’ve got a keg of sweet cider too, in the cellar, but I’ll need help to bring it up.”
Eny turned around, wiping her hands on a rag tucked over her belt. “Didja get the strawberry or the apricot?”
“Apricot. Goes better with rabbit,” the girl said. She smiled at Lars, her eyes twinkling brown over freckled cheeks, as she put the jar on the table. She said, “At least I think apricot goes better with rabbit. Don’t you?”
Lars’ stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. “We can’t stay. Really. I appreciate the offer—”
“Dang, that smells good,” Trumble said, coming into the house. “What did you say it was again?”
“Rabbit stew,” Eny replied, returning to the fire. “Celie, run and get some cheese. Should be several rounds in the back shed. Pick a good one. And see if you can get one of the young fellas to help you carry that cider.”
“Need help carrying something?” Serian asked before Lars could protest again.
Lars turned away from Aghen and saw his men standing just inside the door with freshly-washed faces and hands. Serian’s collar was damp and Trumble had water splatters on his shirt. Moergan grinned like he’d died and gone to the heavens. Otlee merely smiled at Lars.
“I’ll help you!” Moergan said.
Trumble nudged him with an elbow, “I got here first.”
“We can’t stay,” Lars said but no one seemed to hear.
Beside him, Malvin chuckled. “You’re fighting a losing battle, lad, and you’re hopelessly out numbered. Better to accept your defeat and eat. The road ain’t going nowhere.”
Eny beamed. “One of you go on and help Celie with that cider. The rest of you, go on and sit at the table. Should be ready right quick. And you,” she said, pointing her stirring spoon at Lars, “you and my Pa had better go wash up. I don’t allow no dirty hands at my table, you hear?”
“What about me?” Aghen grinned. “I can’t go off’n wash my hands!”
Grinning, she pulled the towel from her belt and tossed it at him. “I’ll let you get by with a wiping, just this once.”
Malvin patted Lars on the back. “C’mon, lad, I’ll show you where the well is.”
“But we can’t stay,” Lars said even as Malvin ushered him out the door.
“You’re staying! I already done decided!” Eny called after them.
“You’re staying, Lad,” Malvin said, as he guided Lars through the door. “And then you’ll be on your way.”
Lars stopped on the porch. “Look. I know you’re trying to be nice, but I’m on a schedule. I have to get on the road.”
Malvin looked at him. “Come talk with me a bit, Lad. Will you?”
Sighing, Lars nodded. He’s probably going to try and convince me to court one of his daughters.
They walked to the well and as Malvin drew a bucket he asked, “Did you say you were from Faldorrah?”
“Yes.”
“All of you?” Malvin grabbed the hunk of soap and scrubbed his fingernails.
Lars hesitated and said, “Yes.” He started washing his hands.
Malvin nodded. “But you, you know Lord Dubric Byerly, don’t you? The Cudgel?”
Cudgel? “Yes, I know Dubric. Why?”
“My father always said to keep an eye out for a nobleman with a gold trinket on his collar. A gold birch leaf. Said it was the mark of The Cudgel.”
Lars felt fingers dance up his spine. “And?”
Malvin rinsed off his hands. “You don’t talk much, do you lad? But then again, I never expected you to.” He turned and looked at Lars. “My father fought in the War, under your Lord Dubric. Would have followed him to the very depths of hell, he often said. He told me Lord Dubric had settled in Faldorrah and if I was ever to meet a Faldorrahn, especially one with The Cudgel’s mark, I was to open my home to him, no questions asked. You came, and I offered. Even if you hadn’t saved my life, you’d be welcome here. You can stay as long as you like, but I doubt you’ll stay long. I’ll be damn lucky to get you to share a cup of mead with me after the meal, I know that.”
Lars nodded once, slowly, still scrubbing his hands. “We have to get on the road. I... I have a mission to tend to.”
Malvin’s voice cracked. “Is he still alive? Is he truly a man to follow into hell?”
Lars smiled. “Yes, Dubric’s alive, and yes, I’d follow him there too, if need be.”
“Then it would be a great honor to break bread with you.” Malvin bowed. “The gods have smiled upon me this day.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
Malvin grinned. “Yes I do. Either that or force one of my daughters to marry you.”
Lars rolled his eyes and laughed. “I guess I’ll take the bow then.”
“Something wrong with my daughters?” Malvin asked, teasing, as he patted Lars on the back again. “I’d gladly let you take your pick.”