Nettle was true to her word, letting a couple of the servants know they were going to see Runa should anyone ask. And she kept a quick pace as she kept hold of Snow’s arm and hurried her through the village, Thaw keeping close to Snow.

When the pace slowed, Snow understood they neared the hut.

“A body is being carried out,” Nettle whispered.

“I think that would be Finn. He’s probably being prepared for the journey home.”

“Bless his soul,” Nettle said with a bob of her head. “It’s the perfect time to sneak in. No one guards the hut.”

“Then let’s hurry,” Snow said and looked down where a blur of gray sat against her leg. “You wait outside, Thaw, and let us know if anyone comes this way.” She had to tell him again when he went to enter the hut with them. “Guard, I won’t be long.”

Nettle began detailing the dead man as soon as they entered. “He has height to him and is thick in size, long brown hair, fair features, nothing that distinguishes except for his nose. It’s crooked, probably broken a time or two. His garments are like those Lord Tarass wears when he dons his mother’s peoples’ dress.”

“Is there a headdress of an animal laying nearby?”

“No,” Nettle said after looking around.

“The painted image,” Snow reminded.

“Oh my goodness,” Nettle said. “The markings are all over his arm and up the side of his neck. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought the markings would be crude, but they’re quite beautiful. A skillful hand certainly had to have done such an intricate design, though I have no idea what it all represents.”

“We better go,” Snow said and Nettle agreed, taking her arm and leading her out of the hut.

“Good Lord,” Nettle whispered as she directed Snow around something.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lord Tarass is in the distance and he stopped when he saw you. He now heads this way.”

“Are we close to Runa’s cottage?”

“Not at all,” Nettle said.

Fear trembled the young woman’s voice and Snow felt bad that she was the cause of it.

“He’s looking straight at us,” Nettle warned.

“Then we stay where we are and I will do the talking.”

“What are you doing here in this area when I was told you were in pain and needed to see Runa?” Tarass demanded.

“My fault.”

Snow recognized the voice. It was Twilla.

“I told them Runa was busy tending someone and offered them a hot brew in my cottage while they waited. Besides, Snow appeared too pale to continue walking. I figured after she rested a bit, I’d see that she got safely to Runa.”

Tarass looked to Snow. She did look pale. “Your wound pains you?”