The Letter, Part 10
The two strangers, dressed in long dark cloaks, made their way slowly toward the inviting fire.
One of them, a woman, pointed to Elder Fortrand with a long, graceful finger. “Is that him?” she asked. “We were told the Fortrand would be here.”
Cecily nodded inquisitively. She narrowed her eyes. “Aye, it’s him. Is there a reason you’re looking for him?”
“We have a few questions,” the other stranger asked, this one a man.
“Take it slow then,” Cecily suggested. “He hasn’t been the same since the Mysts came through. Fourteen years and even I’ll never forget the day.”
The woman stranger hesitated a moment before answering. “Neither will I,” she said slowly.
“You were here?!” the innkeeper asked, unable to hide the surprise from her face. “Surely I’d know you, then! Who are you?”
The woman reached her hand up and pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing her face. Telematrice looked consolingly at Cecily, who seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack.
“It’s you!” she gasped. “In my pub, it’s Lady Telematrice herself!”
Telematrice placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Don’t be afraid. At the end of the day, we’re just as ordinary as the next man.”
“We, you say?” Cecily’s eyes turned to the second stranger. “Surely, you’re not…” But she couldn’t finished the sentence. Before she found the words, Gilbetron removed his hood as well.
Cecily fell to her knees, her lips quivering uncertainly. “I don’t know what to say, lord, except… welcome!”
Gilbetron smiled. “Thank you, but please stand. I’m no one to bow to. I wish we were here under better circumstances, but we have a few questions for Elder Fortrand, if he’s able to answer them.”
“He’s over by the fire,” she said, turning her eyes to the dark form of Elder Fortrand. In all the excitement, his head remained bent toward the hearth, unaware of what was going on just ten feet from him.