The pillars of creation

While they worked, Sebastian returned from the barn. Before he closed the door, she saw stars outside. A wave of cold air rolled past her legs, sending a shiver through her shoulders. When the wind died like this as the sky cleared, it often meant a bone-chilling cold night.

Sebastian made for the fire, eager to warm himself. Jennsen put another log on, using the poker to position it askew so it would catch well. The healer, his hand lying gently on the woman's shoulder, nodded his assurance to her as she slowly gave the drink to her sick child. He left her to do the work, and, after hanging his cloak on a hook just inside the door closest to the hearth, joined Jennsen and Sebastian at the fire.

:,Are this woman and child kin?" he said.

'No," Jermsen said. With the warmth of the fire, she removed her cloak, too, and laid it over the bench at the table. "We saw her on the road, and she needed help. We just gave her a ride here."

"Ah," he said. "She will be welcome to sleep here with her boy. I need to keep my eye on him through the night." She had forgotten about the singular nature of the knife she wore at her belt until he noticed it. "Please," he said, "help yourself to the stew I have cooking; we always have plenty at hand for those who may come here. It's late to be traveling. You both are welcome to use the cabins for the night. They're all empty at present, so you may each have your own for the night."

"That would be a kindness," Sebastian said. "Thank you."

Jermsen was about to say that they could share one cabin, when she realized that he had said that because she had told him that Sebastian wasn't her husband. She realized how it would look if she said anything to change the plan, so she didn't.

Besides, the idea of sleeping with Sebastian outdoors was only natural and innocent enough. Together in a cabin seemed somehow different. She recalled that several times on their long journey north to the People's Palace they had taken shelter at inns. But that was before he had kissed her.

Jermsen gestured to include the general area. "Is this the place of the Raug'Moss?"

He smiled at her question, as if he found it amusing but didn't want to mock her ignorance. "By no means. This is just one of several small outposts we use when we travel-shelter-and a place where people who need our services can come to us."

"The boy is lucky you were here, then," Sebastian said.

The Raug'Moss studied Sebastian's eyes for a moment. "If he lives, I will be pleased that I was here to help him. We frequently have a brother at this station."

"Why is that?" Jermsen asked.

"Outposts such as this help provide the Raug'Moss with income from serving the needs of people with no other access to healers."

"Income?" Jennsen asked. "I thought that the Raug'Moss helped people out of charity, not for profit."

"The stew, the hearth, the roof we offer, they do not appear magically because there is a need. People who come to us for the knowledge we've spent a lifetime acquiring are expected to contribute something in exchange for that help. After all, if we starve to death, how can we then help anyone else? Charity, if you have the means, is a personal choice, but charity which is expected or compelled is simply a polite word for slavery."

The healer hadn't been speaking about her, of course, but Jermsen still felt stung by his words. Had she always expected others to help her, feeling entitled to their help simply because she wanted it? As if her wish for their assistance took precedence over the best interest of their own lives?

Sebastian fished around in a pocket, coming up with a silver mark. He held it out to the man. "We would like to share what we have in return for your sharing what you have."

After the briefest of glances at Jennsen's knife, he said, "In your case, that isn't necessary."

"We insist," Jennsen said, feeling uncomfortable knowing that this money wasn't even really hers, something she had earned in exchange for the food, shelter, and care of their horses, but was taken from dead men.

With a bow of his head, he accepted the payment. "There are bowls in the cupboard on the right. Please help yourselves. I must tend to the boy."

Jennsen and Sebastian sat on a bench at the trestle table and ate two bowls each of the hearty lamb stew from the big kettle. It was the best meal they had had since-since the meat pies Tom had left for them.

"This turned out to our advantage," Sebastian said in a low voice.

Jennsen glanced to the side of the room to see the healer and the mother bent over the boy. She leaned closer as he stirred a spoon through his stew.

"How so?"

His blue eyes turned up to her. "Gives the horses good feed and a good rest. Us too. That gives us an advantage over anyone chasing us."

"Do you really think they could have any idea where we are? Or even be close?"

Sebastian shrugged as he ate more of his stew. He checked across the room before he spoke. "I can't see how they could, but they've surprised us before, haven't they?"