Reidier

0: ???

The girl has abandoned them. 

I watch her walk down this street, deserted in the rain. I watch as she throws furtive glances over her shoulder. I watch as she tries to curl in on herself in this cold. 

I glance towards the innkeeper. I rise, and on the counter I deposit a neat stack of silver. 

The woman looks at me, bewildered. She tries to work out what to call me, but she draws a blank. 

People often do that. 

“Uh,” she stammers, “you haven’t stayed the night yet. You haven’t had anything to eat. You don’t have to pay for any-“ 

“Ten fine for your hearth,” I say. “The rest for a bed and three meals for the little girl.” 

I leave the money there and walk out, ignoring the looks I get from the other patrons. 

I walk towards the girl. She’s scared and stumbling and shaking. Pathetic. 

She needs my help. 

I stop right in front of her, and she tries to move past. But I reach out with my right hand and grab her feeble wrist. 

I can see the fear in her eyes. The terror. 

But I can also see her fire. 

I smile. That fire is what I need. 

With my other hand, I reach into the bag under my oilskin cloak. I find her envelope. 

And I hand it to her. 

I release her. 

She runs into that inn. I watch as understanding dawns in the innkeeper’s eyes, and I watch the girl accept a meal and the hospitality, confused. 

She takes a seat near the window and pulls out the envelope. She reads my riddle- the first piece of it. 

Reidier, of toil and trouble, 

Drought and storm prevail. 

She won’t know what it means. But she will go to Reidier. 

I know she will.