Copper and Coal Dust

By midday, the Keep's scullery was alive with the clatter of iron pots and the hiss of roasting meat.

Selene had spent most of the morning scrubbing grease from the roasting spits. Her shoulders ached, and the smell of mutton had settled into her clothes. When Mrs. Hallowell finally inspected her work, she ran a finger along the edge of one spit before giving a brief nod.

"That will do."

She handed Selene a wooden token.

"Your meal. Eat it in the lower courtyard, not the dining hall. The southern patrol has just returned, and the warriors will be coming down for food shortly. Stay out of their way."

"Yes, ma'am."

Selene collected her portion from the kitchen. Half a loaf of dark rye bread and a tin cup of cabbage soup. It wasn't much, but it was enough to quiet her stomach until evening.

She slipped through the postern door into the stable yard, grateful for the cold air after hours in the smoky kitchen.

"Selene!"

She turned.

Gwen emerged from beside the woodstore, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the laundry room. A few chestnut curls had escaped beneath her loosely tied scarf.

"Where have you been?" Gwen asked, hurrying towards her. "I've been looking for you."

Selene broke her bread in half and handed Gwen the larger piece.

"Eat first. You look hungry."

Gwen accepted it with a grin.

"You're too kind. Now, tell me. Did you see him this morning?"

"Who?"

Gwen gave her a knowing look.

"The Alpha, of course."

Selene lowered herself onto a wooden crate.

"I saw him in the gallery. He complained about the way I was scrubbing the floor."

Gwen stopped chewing.

"He spoke to you?"

"He spoke about the floor, Gwen."

"That still counts."

Selene shook her head and took a mouthful of soup.

"He's not as frightening as you make him sound. He looked exhausted."

"That's because he barely slept after returning from the northern ridge. The warriors have been talking about it all morning. Elder Vane called an emergency council meeting before breakfast."

Selene glanced towards the inner courtyard.

"Is something wrong at the border?"

"Nobody knows. But that's not what everyone is talking about."

Gwen leaned closer.

"Lady Rebecca arrived with the supply convoy this morning."

Selene dipped her bread into the soup.

"And?"

"And she came in a carriage with silver fittings and velvet cushions. I saw her myself. Two servants carried her luggage into the eastern wing."

"She's a guest, isn't she?"

"For now." Gwen lowered her voice. "Her father is negotiating the winter grain agreement with the Alpha. My cousin heard that he wants a marriage arrangement included in the deal."

Selene looked at her.

"You mean the Alpha and Lady Rebecca?"

"Who else? If they marry, she'll become Luna."

Gwen brushed crumbs from her apron.

"My mother says Rebecca's family doesn't allow ordinary human servants to work inside their territory. They prefer bonded workers. Imagine what happens if she brings those rules here."

Selene's appetite diminished.

She thought of Martha's medicine, the flour they still needed and the unpaid portion of their household tax.

"If she becomes Luna, she might change the way things are done here," Gwen continued. "People like us could lose our jobs."

"The Alpha makes the decisions in this pack," Selene replied. "Not his guests."

"Let's hope he remembers that."

A bell rang from the inner courtyard.

Gwen hurried to finish her bread.

"I have to get back before the laundry mistress comes looking for me. I'll see you later."

She disappeared through the servants' entrance, leaving Selene to finish her meal.

The afternoon passed in a succession of errands. She carried split birch logs to the upper braziers, collected used linen from the guest rooms and helped another maid move supplies into the council antechamber.

The corridors became busier as the warriors returned from their patrols. Their voices carried through the stone passages, occasionally breaking into laughter or sharp arguments.

Selene kept to her work.

By the time the afternoon bell rang, her arms were aching again.

She returned her wooden token, collected her wages and left through the main gate.

Two copper pieces.

She slipped them into the small purse beneath her shawl and began the descent to Lowfell.

The road was worse than it had been that morning. A thin layer of ice covered the wagon tracks, and the fading light made it difficult to see where the frozen ground gave way to loose stones.

She walked carefully, thinking about the herbs Martha needed and whether she could stretch the remaining flour until the end of the week.

The first thing she noticed when she reached Mill Street was the smell of coal smoke.

Bram's forge was still burning.

Orange light spilled from the open shed, illuminating the frozen ground. Inside, Bram stood over an anvil, his sleeves rolled up and his forearms dark with soot.

His hammer struck the glowing metal.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

He looked up when her shadow crossed the entrance.

"You're late."

Selene stopped at the doorway.

"Good evening to you too."

Bram set down his hammer and quenched the iron in a barrel of water. Steam rose around him.

"The road's already freezing. You shouldn't be walking down alone this late."

"I had extra work."

"There's always extra work."

He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then reached for a small brown packet resting on the workbench.

"Here."

Selene took it.

"What's this?"

"Coltsfoot. Cora said Martha had another coughing fit this afternoon. I went to the herbalist and got some."

Her fingers tightened around the packet.

"How bad was it?"

"Bad enough that she couldn't catch her breath for several minutes."

Selene looked down.

"I don't have enough to pay you back until Friday."

Bram's expression hardened.

"Did I ask you for money?"

"No, but—"

"Then don't start."

He turned away, picked up a cloth and wiped his hands.

"I'll collect when I need something repaired. Until then, keep your money."

"Thank you, Bram."

He nodded, but his eyes remained on her.

"You look tired."

"I'm fine."

"You've been saying that since we were children."

Selene gave him a faint smile.

"Perhaps because you keep asking."

For a moment, the familiar warmth between them softened his expression. Then his gaze shifted towards the mountain.

Several fires burned along the High Keep's watchtowers. More than she remembered seeing the previous night.

Bram's jaw tightened.

"They've doubled the fires up there."

"Perhaps the weather is worse."

"It's not the weather."

He lowered his voice.

"Word from the tavern is that three bodies were brought back from the northern border. They called them rogues, but someone who saw the bodies said two of them were hardly old enough to carry a proper weapon."

Selene glanced towards the street.

"Bram, be careful what you say. The pack has people listening everywhere."

"Let them listen."

"Bram."

He looked at her, then exhaled.

"I know."

He stepped back towards the forge.

"Go home. Martha shouldn't be alone this long, and the night patrol will be coming through soon."

Selene tucked the packet safely into her bag.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Take the lower path. There's less ice near the old mill."

She nodded and walked away.

Behind her, the hammer began striking the anvil again.

By the time she reached Martha's cottage, the light in the forge was the last warm glow left on Mill Street.