"If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn your carriage around and have no part of it too."
The cooper’s warning hung in the cold winter air for several moments alongside the frozen mist of his breath before Maela was able to respond.
"I appreciate your warning, goodman," Maela said, looking once again from the man to his shaggy mare and the cart that held everything of importance or value in the man’s life. "Where will you go now?"
"Where there’s work, your ladyship," the cooper said with a shrug. "Keating eventually, like as not. Leufroy for now. Cider season is over, but the swine should have fattened up on apple scrap by now. Plenty of pork to salt and pack and never enough barrels to go ’round."
"I won’t stay past the year if I can make the coin for it," he added. "What with Baron Leufroy goin’ missin’, they say the young lord might not get his father’s throne. Up to Lord Erling now who rules in Leufroy and he’s been a demon lover for years now. Kept it quiet he did, no one knew till the demons showed up an’ gave him a fancy new title and what not."
"I see," Maela said, nodding at the man while keeping her expression carefully composed. "Do you have family in Keating or Leufroy? Anyone to take you in?"
"Not as such," the cooper said with a helpless shrug and a brief, pained glance over his shoulder. "Pawl were supposed to come with me. He’s not kin but, he’s close. Only... Only he said he can’t up and leave just yet, and that he’ll follow after. He’s got kin in Lothian though so... he may never come."
"Why not go straight on to Keating then," Micheline asked, frowning at the cooper. "Why bother wintering in Leufroy at all?"
"Because the mountains are hard to travel in winter," Maela said, answering for the cooper as she fished in the pouch at her waist for a few silver coins. "And a shop in Keating will be more costly to open than one in the frontier."
"Please, take this," Maela said, pressing the handful of silver coins into the cooper’s hands. "Your struggle won’t be an easy one," she added, pulling out the radiant sun pendant she wore around her neck as the words of a familiar prayer spilled from her lips. "Even in winter, His holy Light can guide your way if you allow your heart to feel His guiding warmth. May He guide you to good fortune and brighter days, wherever your feet may carry you," Maela said.
For a brief moment, the day seemed to be a little brighter, as if Maela speaking the words really had added a measure of warmth to the cold winter sun. The moment was too fragile to last, and the moment the cooper turned from Maela to the coins in his hand, the day seemed dimmer than it had a moment ago... As if the coins were too worldly for whatever had just happened.
"I’ve never been one to take a handout," the man said, staring at the silver in his hand.
"Confessors don’t give handouts," Maela replied. "They shine a light so others can find their way. If you’re going to go all the way to Leufroy to start over, that should be enough for warm inns, a good stable for your horse and a safe place to keep your cart while you sleep with enough left over to rent yourself somewhere small in Leufroy."
"I can’t pay your way through the winter," Maela said. "The struggle ahead of you is the one you must overcome if you’re going to walk a new path in this life. The Holy Lord of Light wouldn’t ask his Confessors to remove every challenge you’ll face in building a new life. But if I can ensure you survive your travels, then I’ll have done my part," Maela said, wrapping the man’s fingers around the coins before turning back to the carriage.
"And maybe... just maybe, I can help you buy enough time to wait for your friend, Pawl. Go in the Light, goodman," Maela called over her shoulder as she waited for Micheline to climb into the carriage. "And may the path you find bring you contentment and joy."
"Th-thank you, Confessor," the cooper said with tears in his eyes. He bowed deeply to the carriage as it started to roll again. "Thank you!"
Inside the carriage, Micheline was looking at her aunt as if she’d met a stranger, or rather, as if she’d seen a facet of her aunt that she’d always known existed but had never seen so directly.
"I thought you left the Confessors," Micheline said. "Why did you tell him you were a Confessor?"
"I don’t recall ever telling him that I’m a Confessor," Maela said with a smile that was just a touch sad. "I told him what Confessors do, and then I did the same," she explained. "The things he told us are worth every silver penny I handed him, but what would he do if I paid him for the information?"
"The same as he did?" Micheline said. "He clearly doesn’t have the savings to open a shop in Keating or to fund his travels. He’s afraid and he’s running with barely anything resembling a plan. What you gave him is exactly what he needs most right now, so..."
"He’d have refused it," Maela said, shaking her head. "You need to spend more time among the common folk, Micheline," she said. "The academy can teach you a great deal about how groups of commoners behave, whether it’s a village that might revolt or a guild that’s become corrupt, the academy can help you see the signs and understand how to prevent disasters."
"But to know a single man and predict his actions, you need something more than what you find in books," Maela said. "Men like him don’t want to become entangled in a noble family’s schemes. If I pay him for information the way a lord pays their spies, what will he think?" Maela asked.
"He won’t see generosity," Micheline said as she thought back to the amount of money her aunt had bestowed on the man for a conversation that lasted less than a quarter of an hour. By the standards of a countess, it wasn’t much at all, but for a cooper in the frontier, it likely represented two or three months worth of wages.
"He’ll see it as a debt he’s acquired," Micheline said. "He might be worried that you’ll ask him to repay the favor one day, if not the money. That’s why he’d refuse."
"You see? You know," Maela said, staring out the window as the carriage rolled along. "He could never accept payment for his information, no matter how valuable it was to me, but the kindness of a Confessor is something else entirely."
"I may have left the convent," Maela said. "But that doesn’t mean I stopped carrying His Light with me," Maela said, as if she were willing it to be true. Still, as her mind replayed the cooper’s words and his story about Ashlynn, Maela couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the same thing the cooper was and struggling to find the path that had been prepared for her, or if she’d stepped off the path and into a greater darkness...
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