They left the tiny bedroom and sat on the couch in Lana’s front room. Rollam had his arm around his wife, who was weeping openly now. “I’m almost forty years old, Rollie. If we don’t have one soon, we never will.”
“I know, Mertie, I know. But what if there’s another Krossak? I don’t think I could stand to go through it again. Every day I wonder what happened to our little Kert—is he still alive? He’d be a grown man now. Do you think he still remembers us? I hope so.”
Mertie began crying even harder.
The door to the street opened, and a tall, handsome, middle-aged Fruen gentleman stepped through, accompanied by a short, lithe, muscular woman.
“Mertie, Rollam.” The gentleman nodded greetings to the Beckmosses. “Where’s Mrs. Neméa?”
Lana stepped into the front room, closing the bedroom door softly behind her. “She’s sleeping. She seems more comfortable now. The baby’s asleep, too.”
“Good afternoon, Lana,” Rahvak said. “I got here as quickly as I could. What’s going on?”
“Rahvak! I’m so glad you came. I’m sure you’ll want to know about this. Thank you for fetching Rahvak, Yolana.”
Before Lana could explain further, Rahvak held up a cautionary forefinger. “Yes, thank you, Yolana. Mrs. Neméa and I will take it from here. It’s time for you to be about your business.” He opened the front door and shooed Yolana out. “You can tell the townsfolk that I’ll have a full report for the town by next Story night. Rollam, Mertie, please stay a bit longer.” He pointedly closed the door behind Yolana. “Please continue, Mrs. Neméa.”
“Rollam and Mertie found this poor soul and what is probably her baby unconscious at their door a little while ago. She’s been hurt badly.”
Rahvak turned to face the Beckmosses. “Did she say anything to either of you about who she is or where she came from?”
“No, Mr. Rahvak,” Rollam replied. “She’s been unconscious the whole time. We don’t know nothin’ about her. I’m guessing that she might have come up from the south. But that’s just a guess because our house is south of town. Do you think the Fessal soldiers did this to her for being outside the No-Travel zone?”
Lana said, “No, I’ve seen the wounds from the soldiers’ weapons. This looks more like a large animal bite to me.”
“Could be,” Rahvak said. “Yolana told me she saw large cat tracks down south the last time she hunted there.”
Rollam handed Vetta’s backpack to Rahvak. “She had this with her.” Rollam and Mertie had been edging toward the door. “Well, if you don’t mind, Mr. Rahvak, Mertie and me will leave you and Lana to it. We got things to do ourselves. Good day, Lana, Mr. Rahvak.”
When they had gone, Rahvak smiled. “They’re afraid of what people might think, and I dare say they’re glad to be free of our mysterious visitors. Let’s take a look at her backpack.”
Rahvak emptied the backpack onto the table. “Clothes and a fire-starter don’t tell us anything.” He examined the tightly wrapped cloth bundle, and read, “For my precious daughter, with love. Your mother, Vetta.” He gently squeezed and shook the bundle to see if he could learn anything without opening it, then tucked it inside his coat.
“Will she recover, Lana? What’s your best guess?”
She spoke softly. “I don’t hold out any hope for her. The infection has spread all through her body. She’s burning with fever. It looks grim. I’d say she’ll leave us soon, probably in less than an hour. The baby looks to be fine. The mother took good care of her despite her own injuries.”