The Pillars of Creation Read Online Free PDF Page B

he came with you, then perhaps he thinks he can have the money back at any time of his choosing. That would give him the opportunity to look generous and win your trust—and still be near enough to end up with the money when he chooses.”
    “I considered that, too.”
    Her mother’s tone softened sympathetically. “Jenn, it’s not your fault—I’ve kept you so sheltered—but you just don’t know how men can be.”
    Jennsen let her gaze drop from her mother’s knowing eyes. “I suppose it could be true, but I don’t think so.”
    “And why not?”
    Jennsen looked back up, more intently, this time. “He has a fever, Mother. He’s not well. He was leaving, without asking to come with me at all. He bid me a good-bye. As tired and feverish as he is, I feared he’d die out in the rain tonight. I stopped him, told him that if it was all right with you he could sleep in the cave with the animals where he could at least be dry and warm.”
    After a moment of silence, Jennsen added, “He said that if you don’t want a stranger near, he will understand and be on his way.”
    “Did he? Well, Jenn, this man is either very honest, or very clever.” She fixed Jennsen with an intent look. “Which do you think it is, hmm?”
    Jennsen twined her fingers together. “I don’t know, Mother. I honestly don’t. I wondered the same things as you—I really did.”
    She remembered, then. “He said that he wanted you to have this, so you wouldn’t have to fear a stranger sleeping nearby.”
    Jennsen drew the knife in its sheath from behind her belt and held it out to her mother. The silver handle gleamed in the dim yellow light coming from the small window behind her mother.
    Staring in astonishment, her mother slowly lifted the weapon in both hands as she whispered, “Dear spirits…”
    “I know,” Jennsen said. “I nearly yelped in fright when I saw it. Sebastian said that this was a fine weapon, too fine to bury, and he wanted me to keep it. He kept the soldier’s short sword and axe for himself. I told him I would give this to you. He said that he hoped it would help you feel safe.”
    Her mother slowly shook her head. “This does not make me feel safe at all—knowing that a man carrying this was near us. Jenn, I don’t like that one bit. Not one bit.”
    Her mother’s eyes showed that she was on to worries bigger than the man Jennsen had brought home with her.
    “Mother, Sebastian is sick. Can he stay in the cave? I led him to believe that he has more to fear from us than we from him.”
    Her mother glanced up with a sly smile. “Good girl.” They both knew that in order to survive they had to work as a team, with well-practiced roles they fell into without the need for formal discussion.
    She let out a sigh, then, as if with the burden of knowing all the things her daughter was missing in life. She ran a hand tenderly down Jennsen’s hair, letting it come to rest on her shoulder.
    “All right, baby,” she said at last, “we’ll let him stay the night.”
    “And feed him. I told him he would have a hot meal for helping me.”
    Her mother’s warm smile widened. “And a meal, then.”
    She drew the blade from its sheath, finally. She gave it a critical appraisal, turning it this way and that, inspecting its design. She tested the edge, and then the weight. She spun it between her slender fingers to get the feel of it, the balance.
    At last she held it in her open palm, contemplating the ornate letter “R.” Jennsen could not imagine what terrible thoughts—and memories—must be going through her mother’s mind as she silently considered the emblem representing the House of Rahl.
    “Dear spirits,” her mother whispered again to herself.
    Jennsen didn’t say anything. She entirely understood. It was an ugly evil thing.
    “Mother,” Jennsen whispered when her mother had looked at the handle for an eternity, “it’s almost dark. May I go get Sebastian and take him back to the cave?”
    Her