"Indeed – the festival of the winter solstice. That Elder of yours is meant to be conducting a ceremony on the outskirts of the village to welcome winter in. The Vice-Captain and I have been asked to attend. It will be a good opportunity for you, no? I imagine you have not spoken much with your fellow villagers in the last couple of days," Lombard said.
"That merchant in particular has been asking after you. Though, he is currently bearing the weight of a likely involvement in murder. Three men seem to have been slain by his underlings. As soon as the prostitutes were barred from the campgrounds, the slaying stopped. Odd, is it not?"
Lombard said that testingly, as though to evoke a reaction from Beam. Tolsey noted that the Captain was looking towards him carefully as he played with one of the wooden board pieces in his hand.
But Beam just shrugged as though it had nothing to do with him. "Greeves isn't stupid enough to involve himself in such open murder with nothing to gain. But it is unfortunate for him, that all the circumstances point in his direction. It's just one of the many problems afflicting this village as of late.
Speaking of which, before I meet with Nila, do you have any information for me, in regard to Stephanie?"
The Captain paused a moment at that and glanced at Tolsey. It seemed he'd put the Vice-Captain in charge of that little endeavour. The man cleared his throat and ran a hand through his beard, ridding himself of the nervousness that had built up.
"We didn't find anything in particular that pointed to her – the villagers are reluctant to talk to the soldiers unless forced, after all. But a few days prior, our men found a pair of footprints, leading from the forest, pointing in the direction of the house that you named. Only, these footprints were visible in a single patch of mud, for about three steps.
It might be entirely unrelated," Tolsey said.
"Ah," Beam's eyes lit up at that, and he clenched his fist. "So they came from the woods after all. That is good to know."
Beam arrived with the soldiers, just as the crowd was beginning to thicken. People glanced at him, a friendliness in their eyes that they didn't have before, but there was also a sympathy as well, as though people assumed he was nigh-on a prisoner for the Captain. He returned the greetings of the passersby as best he could, though he was never much of a socialite.
The fire was built and burning high already, a true bonfire at that, taller than three men, with a wide and stable base to match it. There was the scent of oil in the air, evidence of the firestarter's cheating ways, as they tried to get the thicker logs to catch fire faster.
There were quite a few complaints from the crowd as more people arrived and noticed that stench.
"Oh, come on, can't you light fires without oil anymore? That's lazy, that is. The back of my throat is going to be feeling like I'm dying now," one old man complained, as others joined in to voice their agreement.
Hearing their complaints, a firestarter – who'd been working on behalf of the village Elder – rose up a shrill voice in defiance. "It gets the fire hotter faster! The smell will disappear in due time! Stop complaining!"
"Aye, by the time we've all left it will," came the reply without missing a beat.
Beam smiled quietly as he listened to the interaction. He'd separated himself from the soldiers by now, as Lombard had told him to. He'd told him to meet up with his village friends, and ensure them of his well-being. But as Beam stood an awkward distance from the fire, his hand resting on the sword at his hip, and his clothes clean and finer than he was used to – he couldn't see anyone that he knew.
There were nearly fifty people there already, with a steady stream of them coming down the village road, lit by torches that every fifth man seemed to carry. It seemed more like a funeral procession than a festival, Beam thought, and the attitudes of everyone in attendance seemed to support that.
There was a tightness about their face, like people being forced to endure something, as nearly everyone complained about the cold.