The healer hadn't been speaking about her, of course, but Jermsen still felt stung by his words. Had she always expected others to help her, feeling entitled to their help simply because she wanted it? As if her wish for their assistance took precedence over the best interest of their own lives?

Sebastian fished around in a pocket, coming up with a silver mark. He held it out to the man. "We would like to share what we have in return for your sharing what you have."

After the briefest of glances at Jennsen's knife, he said, "In your case, that isn't necessary."

"We insist," Jennsen said, feeling uncomfortable knowing that this money wasn't even really hers, something she had earned in exchange for the food, shelter, and care of their horses, but was taken from dead men.

With a bow of his head, he accepted the payment. "There are bowls in the cupboard on the right. Please help yourselves. I must tend to the boy."

Jennsen and Sebastian sat on a bench at the trestle table and ate two bowls each of the hearty lamb stew from the big kettle. It was the best meal they had had since-since the meat pies Tom had left for them.

"This turned out to our advantage," Sebastian said in a low voice.

Jennsen glanced to the side of the room to see the healer and the mother bent over the boy. She leaned closer as he stirred a spoon through his stew.

"How so?"

His blue eyes turned up to her. "Gives the horses good feed and a good rest. Us too. That gives us an advantage over anyone chasing us."

"Do you really think they could have any idea where we are? Or even be close?"

Sebastian shrugged as he ate more of his stew. He checked across the room before he spoke. "I can't see how they could, but they've surprised us before, haven't they?"

Jennsen admitted the truth of it with a nod and went back to eating her own meal in silence.

"Anyway," he said, "this gives us and the horses needed food and rest. It can only help us put more distance on them. I'm glad that you reminded me of how the Creator helps those in need."

Jennsen was warmed by his smile. "I hope it helps that poor boy."

"Me too," he said.

"I'm going to clean up and see if they need any help."

He nodded as he scooped up the last piece of lamb into his spoon. "You take the next to last cabin. I'll take the one after, on the end. I'll go start you a fire first while you finish up, here."

After he put his spoon in his empty bowl, Jennsen put a hand over his. "Sleep well."

She basked in his private smile for her and then watched as he whispered to the healer. By the man's nod, she guessed that Sebastian had thanked him and wished him a good night. The mother, sitting beside her boy, stroking his brow, also thanked Sebastian for the help, and hardly noticed the icy air that rushed in as he went out the door.

Jennsen carried a steaming bowl of stew over to the woman. She accepted it politely, but absently, her attention on her small worry asleep at her hip. At Jennsen's urging, the healer sighed in agreement and sat at the table while she served him a bowl of his stew.

"Quite good, even if I made it," he said with good humor as she brought him a mug of water.

Jennsen chuckled, assuring him that she shared his conviction. She let him eat, occupying herself with cleaning the dirty bowls in a wooden wash bucket and then adding several logs to the fire. The burning logs shot showers of sparks. Oak made a good fire, but it was messy without a screen. As she arranged the logs, sparks anew swirled up the chimney amid billowing smoke. With a broom from the corner, she swept the dead ashes back into the hearth.

When she saw that the healer was nearly finished with his meal, she sat on the bench, close to him, so that she could speak privately. "We must be leaving early, so in case I miss you in the morning, I wanted to thank you for all your help this evening, not only for the boy, but for us as well."

Although he didn't look down, she knew by the expression on his face that he interpreted her need to be away early as having to do with the knife at her belt. She said nothing to dissuade that notion.

"We appreciate the generous contribution to our sect. It will help in our efforts to help our people."

Jennsen knew he was just marking time until she said what was really on her mind, so she finally did. "I would like to inquire about a man that I've learned is living with the Raug'Moss. He may even be a healer, I'm not sure. I'd like to know if you know anything about him."

He shrugged. "Ask. I will tell you what I know."

"His name is Drefan."

For the first time that night, the man's eyes revealed the fire of emotion. "Drefan was the evil spawn of Darken Rahl."

Jennsen had to force herself not to show any reaction at the power of his words. She reminded herself that he had seen her knife with the symbol of the House of Rahl, and that might be coloring his words. Still, he sounded emphatic.

"I know that much. I still need very much to find him."

"You're too late." A satisfied smile ghosted across his face. " 'Master Rahl protect us, " he quoted from the devotion.

"I don't understand."

"Lord Rahl, the new Lord Rahl, killed him-spared us all from that bastard son of Darken Rahl.-

Jennsen.

Jennsen sat stunned, feeling almost as unseen talons were coming out of a dark sky toward her throat.

"You're sure" was all she could think to say. "I mean, you're sure that Lord Rahl was the one who did it."

"While there were polite words spoken about Drefan's death, about how he had died in service of the people of D'Hara, I believe, as do the rest of the Raug'Moss, that Lord Rahl killed Drefan."

Jennsen.

Polite words. Polite words for murder. Jermsen imagined that one did not just come right out and call it murder to Lord Rahl's face. Ordinary people were murdered. Lord Rahl's victims died in service to the people of D'Hara.

Jennsen felt her chest tightening at the fright of Lord Rahl being one murder closer to her. Darken Rahl had not found Drefan. Richard Rahl had. Richard Rahl would find her, too.

She gripped her trembling hands together in her lap, under the table. She hoped her face didn't show anything. This man was obviously loyal to the Lord Rahl. She dared not reveal her true revulsion, her true terror.

Surrender.

Her true anger.

Surrender.

That single word echoed around in her head behind the tumbling thoughts, her frustration, her hopeless gloom, her burgeoning anger.