Isbeth's Redemption: Episode 6

Isbeth sank into the only empty chair in the kitchen. A man sat at her table again. At least this time Master Ashfield wasn't bleeding on it. But the situation wasn't much better. He looked as pale as fresh milk and as weak as watered ale. Even more unsettling was the mess surrounding him. Flour and broken eggs littered the floor. Mutilated meat and carrots bits covered the table. Isbeth counted four new gouges in the already scarred wooden surface. “I tried to dissuade her.” Ashfield regarded Isbeth from across the mess Madam Fores had made of the kitchen. He looked pale, too ashen to be out of bed.“I told you to stay.” Isbeth glared at him. “I traipse across the whole city to deliver your message, and you still get out of bed.”  “I had to.” He looked like a little boy being scolded for spilling the milk jug. “I had to be down here to see Tarian's guest first hand.” Isbeth forced herself to rise. The mess wouldn't clean itself and dinner needed salvaging. Exhaustion pulled at her joints. The ache in the middle of her back that never left grew more demanding, but she ignored it. Removing the kettle from the enthusiastic fire, she reached for the metal bar she kept close to the fire and spread the wood out so the fire would burn lower and even. “What is so special about this guest?” She asked as she shoved off the floor to regain her feet. “I don't know.”

Read this installment of the riveting story in the February 2015 issue of InD'Tale magazine.

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