Chapter 228: The Ingolsol Festival - Part 7
"He was sticking to the houses as well, taking care not to be seen, that's why no one else caught sight of him," Nila said.
"That's roughly in the direction of the village Elder's house, is it not?" Beam said thoughtfully. His words were quiet, but they were enough to send a spark through the Felder family as they glanced at each other hesitantly.
"You think so too then?" Mrs Felder asked. "That the Elder seems suspicious?"
Beam was hesitant to say anything too firmly. "Suspicious, definitely. But we need more than that, and there seem to be far bigger things going on than just one old man. It's all connected somehow. The murders of the soldiers in the night, the figures in the forest, the monsters, Stephanie's disappearance… perhaps even the Yarmdon."
There was a weight to his words that was enough to make them bite their lip. A warning that he did not have to say directly. They all knew, for they could feel it, there were dark omens afoot.
"On that note, Lombard gave me some information. A scout found a pair of footprints leading from the forest towards your house on the day of Stephanie's disappearance. So if we assume that the Elder is involved in the initial kidnapping – then he's also likely to be involved in what's happening in the forest, which makes this all the more dangerous," Beam said.
Now, increasingly, he was glad to have Lombard on his side. The knight seemed willing to make moves to assist Beam's cause, as long as it favoured Lombard himself. Towards that end, Beam was sure, if he could provide enough evidence, then the Captain would move with him, and provide the assistance that he needed.
Nila shivered. Beam couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or not – though it was especially cold. "We're slowly getting the information we need… It's working," she said quietly. "We'll find her, won't we Beam?"
It was a question spoken by one person, but asked by three. Even David was looking towards Beam for reassurance. Beam trusted in his master's words, and his reassurance that Stephanie was still alive. Thus, he was able to respond resolutely, perhaps foolishly so. "We will."
Mrs Felder nodded gratefully at his reassurance. "Thank you, Beam," she said again.
As their conversation came to a natural pause, their attention drifted back towards the village road, as they watched the last dregs of people march down it, carrying their torches, sharing quiet conversation with each other.
The sky was cloudy up above. Occasionally, the clouds would shift such that a glimpse of moon or even star might be caught, but for the most part, it was a sullen and unbroken darkness, fended off only by the fire that raged beside them.
Men continued to tend to the flames, building it up, all the while complaining that the oil had done their job for them, and that there was no need for such things. The fire lighter continued to defend himself, his voice cracking as he did.
"I'm fed up with this! You lot light it again next year, then, if all you're going to do is complain!"
People would laugh at his words as he said them. But it was a quiet laughter, a nervous laughter, as though they knew on this night, as their breath misted up in front of them, and their hands were too cold to remain for long out of their sleeves, that tonight was different. It was not a night that they could truly be happy on.
Beam thought he understood that. After all, the winter solstice marked the shortest day of the year, and it marked a hard season of cold up ahead. A time of much struggle for the villagers, of much suffering, a time that would often seem to stretch on for far too long before spring finally began.
As they waited for the arrival of the village Elder, soft flakes of white began to slowly fall from the sky. Beam saw the first of which land on David's dark brown hair. The boy clumsily reached up a hand to pat at it.
"Cold," he murmured. His murmurings were enough to bring his sister's attention to the sky.
She gave a gentle smile as she held out her hand to catch a flake. "It's cold, but it's so pretty. Looks like the snow has begun for the year," she said.
More of the villagers began to notice the snow as it slowly drifted down from the sky, and soon began the murmurings of discontent, as they fought to get closer to the fire, and cursed the village Elder for not being faster.
"He's making nobility wait! Even for a festival, isn't that a bit much?"
There were continued nervous glances towards Lombard and Tolsley – by now even the Vice-Captain was becoming a familiar face amongst them, and they were aware that he too was nobility.
But neither Tolsey nor Lombard showed any discontent on their faces. Greeves and Loriel stood beside them. Greeves would make the occasional remark to try and break the awkward silence, but Lombard would respond with a single word without even looking at him. Beam imagined the air likely felt even colder where they were.
Beam was dressed in a single long-sleeved shirt, with a vest underneath, the type of thing that he'd usually fight in. He realized that he'd made a mistake by not bringing his coat, as he felt himself shiver.
But before Nila could point out that he should have worn a coat – for she'd noticed him shivering and sighed – a small collection of torches began to make their way down the village road, illuminating the procession of the village Elder, his two serving girls, and three new child slaves that they had acquired.
The serving girls – One and Two – were dressed as they always were, in gloomy black clothing, with black dresses, and thin robes over the top. Beam noted the similarity in the way they dressed and the way the shadows dressed.