The Hob's Bargain

vegetables. It may take a little while to find them. We’ve run low on supplies.”
    â€œHave you raided the houses for food?” Kith pointedly addressed Danci rather than the men.
    â€œNo one wanted to,” she replied, a little sheepishly.
    Kith nodded once. “Then the three of us”—he indicated Wandel, himself, and me—“will scavenge food for the ride back from the houses nearby while you pack.”
    Wandel looked at the disgruntled faces of the Beresforders and shook his head. “You two go scavenge—I think I’m needed here. I’ll tell them why we’re so quick to take Aren’s suggestions.”

    I TOOK THE LEFT-HAND SIDE OF THE ROAD, LEAVING Duck ground-tied next to Torch and the Lass in front of the inn.
    If it had been anyone else who suggested exploring the houses, I would have danced naked in the winter snow before I stepped foot inside any of the buildings in Auberg. But it had been Kith, and anything he could do, I could do—especially when the alternative was to watch all the Beresforders’ faces while Wandel explained what kind of freak I was. Besides, after Manta objected to a woman going through the houses of the dead, I was left with no choice at all.
    The first house wasn’t bad. I located the larder immediately, just off the kitchen. I found a tablecloth and loaded it with what food would travel—cheese and unleavened bread mostly. After tying the bundle, I set it on the street in front of the house, where I could pick it up on the way back to the inn.
    The next house was smaller than the first, made of stones set one on top of the other with no need of mortar to hold it together. As I stepped over the threshold, I came face to skull with the master of the hearth.
    Except for the woman on the farm, I’d tried not to look at the heaps of bones we’d passed in Auberg. I hadn’t let them be people, only piles of rubbish. But, even dead, this man wouldn’t let me do that.
    He must have been resting in front of the fire, for his remains were still settled in a chair before the blackened grating. His trousers were patched neatly, though without the ornamentation a woman would have given them. His shirt was made of fine cotton cloth and showed no such wear.
    He’d been a big man, a hand or so larger than Daryn. I couldn’t repress the feeling that he watched me as I walked past him to the room beyond.
    His larder was small, but stocked with the sorts of food a traveler would need: rice cakes, sweet oatcakes, and salted, dried beef. I took all I could carry in a tablecloth I’d brought from the first house. And all the time I stacked the food, I had the twitchy feeling that someone was observing me. Just before I tied the bundle together, I took an oatcake and a piece of the beef and set it aside.
    I walked into the front room and set the bits of food I’d kept out on the floor before the dead man in the chair. Remembering what the Beresforders had said about the unrestful dead and stories learned at Gram’s knee, I knelt before him as if he were a king on a throne.
    â€œGood sir,” I said, in as formal a manner as I could muster, “I take this food to ensure the safety of others, not for personal gain. Accept this offering as my good faith and hear my prayer for your rest. Be at peace.”
    If there had been someone with me, I wouldn’t have done it, but it made me feel better. Coming to my feet, I brushed against something hanging on the stone wall. It fell to the floor with a clatter and a thunk.
    A glance showed it to be a crossbow, oiled so dark it was black. I picked it up and took the quiver of arrows that hung next to the space where it had been. Then I nodded respectfully to the man who had owned them, and began to leave.
    A chill touched my shoulder, stopping me where I was. I turned back to the skeleton who brooded in his chair, staring not, I saw finally, at the door but at the wall where the crossbow had hung. I, too, looked again. A black leather bag rested on the same peg the crossbow had hung on. I’d left it there. Now, after a careful look at the resting warrior, I lifted it down, too. Inside was an odd metal contraption, the same color as the crossbow—tarnished silver, I thought.
    â€œFor the crossbow?” I asked.
    It almost surprised me that there was no answer. I took the bag with me. When I set the bag of food outside the door, I kept the