The Lightkeep by Catherine Miller

Author:Catherine Miller [Miller, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798640115369
Published: 2020-04-23T22:00:00+00:00

“Does it look like hers?” Penryn enquired, peering into the dark cauldron sceptically. It was not that she doubted him, surely not, but she did not share the same faith with herself and she had perhaps helped too much and managed to spoil things.

Grimult took a long-handled spoon and stirred, bringing up some of the contents for inspection. “It is close,” he declared. “Although someday you shall experience Mother’s stew for yourself and you can judge accordingly.”

She tried to avoid such talk, of an outcome that included a simple life with simple joys such as meals spent with a family she had yet to meet, but Grimult did not seem to share her opinion. He spoke with hope and optimism, and while she loved him for it, it felt too close to a deception to indulge for any great length.

The day was growing dim, and their physical exertions insisted upon something hearty for their meal. It had been Grim’s suggestion when an inspection of the cupboards provided sufficient ingredients for something that would hopefully resemble what he had longed for from home.

She had two bowls waiting, with two of the four spoons she had found within a drawer for the Lightkeep’s use. She was grateful they had not provided a single set for her use, simply highlighting how alone she was meant to be that there would never be use for any additions, but they were generous and perhaps thought she would not always like to have to wash the same utensil before desiring another. Or thought she would be prone to clumsiness and lose them over a course of time.

Regardless of their reason, she was thankful.

She bit her lip, wondering what would happen when they found her gone. Search for a time, she supposed, to ensure some madness had not befallen her and she had wandered away and become lost. None would speak to her, if that was the case, merely herding her back to her dwelling and seeing the door properly fastened behind her.

There would be no letter sent to the sages of her original Keep announcing her death—not until they knew with certainty such was the case.

Or so the histories made it sound when she had read them.

Her belly made an empty, furtive clench as she glanced into their shared stew. Grimult had made most use of the knife-work when tending to the vegetables, but he had claimed that her frequent stirrings were helpful as the pot was a new one and unfamiliar, and likely prone to charring rather than giving a proper cook.

There was even a generous joint of meat, preserved and readily prepared to add to their stew, and even now the smell of the juices mingling with the herbs and liberal helping of salt had her mouth watering.

She would have liked to have a soft roll to accompany it, something to soak up any lingering sauce and devour accordingly, but she had no skill in such matters, and evidently neither did Grim.

If she was to indulge his fantasising, she might say that she would like to learn.

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