Chapter Four

Krinna opened her sore eyes. She sat up and cried out in pain. Immediately, she fell back on the bed. Her head throbbed. Slowly, she moved her hands up her sides. A nightgown covered her. Her chest felt constricted. She opened the gown at the neck and peered at the bandages wrapped tightly around her chest and ribs. She placed her left hand to her side, rolled to the right, and pushed herself to a sitting position on the bedside. Everything went black. She closed her eyes and sat still until her mind cleared. Carefully, she stood to her feet.

She opened her eyes and looked for her clothes. A clean tunic and trousers lay draped over a chair. Gently, she caught the bottom hem of the gown in her hands. Painfully, she lifted it over her head and dropped it onto the bed. She picked up the shirt, raised it high, and let it fall over her torso. After she leaned against a wall, the trousers were easy to pull up to her waist. She completed her wardrobe with a soft pair of boots.

She smelled the spicy aroma of meat cooking over a fire in the oven. Her stomach rumbled and chased after the hunger pains. She felt as if she was starving. She had never smelled anything so delicious. The fragrance permeated the dwelling. Krinna held her ribs and shuffled her way to the kitchen. A spider with a closed lid hung over the fire. She grabbed a hook from its holder and suffered from the fast movement. She pulled the swinging rod holding the pot toward her and groaned from the effort. A rag from the table protected her hand as she removed the cast lid. Using a ladle from the wall, she scooped a generous helping of meat and juice into a large bowl.

Procuring a spoon, she sat down and carried her stew to the table. Bread and wine would make this meal a feast fit for a queen. She scooped her first bite when the front door opened. She walked to the counter as quickly as possible and picked up a long-bladed knife. She hid it behind her back and turned to face the intruder.

“I see you are up. It’s a good sign that you are hungry. Please sit down.”

“Watermelon Man, what are you doing here?”

He placed a pack on the counter and said, “I brought freshly baked wheat bread and wine to go with the stew. I have cold watermelon in the river.” He moved close enough for her to touch him. “I’ll get a bowl and join you. Gorga said she wanted a rabbit. She’ll be in later for melon.”

“I meant, why are you still here?”

“You said I could spend the night.”

“I see the sun is setting. You should have left this morning.”

“You are correct. As soon as we finish the meal and watermelon, I’ll leave. Let’s enjoy our food.” He ladled food from the pot into a bowl and placed it on the table across from her.

She left the knife on the counter and sat down facing him. He retrieved it and used it to slice the bread. He laid it on the wooden table near her hand. “Do you like butter with your bread?”

“You are kidding? How did you manage to get wheat bread? Only royalty gets the wheat. Where did you get butter?”

“A farmer was selling it at the market.”

“I would love it. I haven’t had butter since--.”

He handed her a small wooden bowl of fresh churned cow’s butter. He removed two silver goblets from his pack. After filling them full of red wine from a skin, he corked it and set the vessels in front of her.

He sat down and began to eat. They ate in silence. He watched her. She glanced furtively at him. She finished her first serving and asked, “Can I trouble you for more stew? More bread, butter, and wine would be nice, too.”

Krinna assessed her target while he filled her dish. He sliced a larger piece of crusty bread and slathered it with butter. Laying it and the knife near her, he turned and poured more wine. He set it down and returned to his seat.

“Thank you. You are well-mannered for a man of your occupation.”

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“I thank you for your observation and compliment. I work hard to be a well-mannered watermelon man,” he replied with a smile.

She didn’t understand why, but a tinge of fear invaded her mind. He was too calm and confident. Indeed, he knew she tried to assassinate him. What method would he use to strike back at her? Did he poison me with the stew, butter, or wine? No, he ate them all. Oh god, he didn’t eat the bread or butter. He bested me. I pray it is a fast-acting potion. I don’t want to suffer for days.

“Is the food not to your liking?”

“No!” she said too quickly. “No, I mean, yes, it is fine. Why do you ask?”

“You had a look on your face as if you thought I had poisoned you.”

“I wondered why you didn’t eat bread and butter with your stew. Don’t you eat them?”

“Yes, I do, but I usually wait until my second helping. I can eat more if I eat the bread last.” He reached for the knife, stood, and cut the bread. He set it down and spread a generous helping of butter on it. He put the blade near her hand. He ate heartily and used his bread to wipe his bowl clean. He turned his back to her, set the bowl on the counter, cut another piece of baked bread, and ate it without butter.

“The farmer’s wife assured me she cooked the bread fresh this morning. She did an excellent job,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He pinched off small portions and ate them while sipping his wine.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“My stomach is full, but I want more lamb stew. Where did you learn to cook?”

“I have traveled extensively through different countries. I lived with local people and learned their methods.”

“I must look hideous to you. They battered my face. I’m surprised I can see so well after last night.”

“Some people heal fast.”

“Did you wrap my ribs?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see me naked?”

“I cut your clothes off to remove the cactus needles and broken thorns from your body. Someone dragged you through a cactus patch and a thorn tree. They were in deep. It is a good thing you were unconscious.”

I wonder if he took advantage of me. She wanted to ask him, but he might get angry, so she decided against it. “Thank you for your help. I don’t want people to help me, but I will make an exception today.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

Standing, he said, “I’ll see if Gorga has returned and check the melon. I’ll bring it in, and we can eat it here.”

“Wait, I have a better idea. There is an old log near the river’s edge. We can eat it, and you can leave from there.” She struggled to her feet. “My ribs hurt,” she volunteered. “I don’t know if it is my sore muscles or all the food I ate.”

He ignored her as she palmed the knife from the table and slipped it up her sleeve. He slung his pack over his shoulder, stepped before her, and walked to the river. She followed slowly. He assisted her to sit on a bark-free log.

“You said it pleased you to touch me. Please don’t touch me again. I hate for men to touch my body. Last night reinforces my feelings.”

“It pleased me because I was able to assist you. I understand,” he said, kneeling and retrieving a melon from a woven basket under the cold water. He set it on the log before her and asked, “Do you cut it, or do I?”

Krinna gave the blade to him and said, “You cut it. I’m curious. You don’t like women, but I smell an oil potion under my clothes. You rubbed it on me. Did you enjoy it?”

“I didn’t do it for pleasure. You needed care. I’m not interested in romancing or seducing you.”

“You can’t sit there and convince me you didn’t feel anything while you looked at my naked body and rubbed on the potion. Oh, thank you,” she said, taking the slice of melon he offered. “No man can touch a woman and not feel a thing. Don’t you think I have a great body?”

He swallowed several bites of melon and then spit out the seeds before answering. “What I saw was messed up. I don’t prey on or molest women. I helped you.”

“If you didn’t want to romance me, why did you help me?”

He placed his empty melon rind on the log, stood to his feet, and picked up his pack. Looking down at her, he said, “You ate melon with me.” He shouldered the pack, adjusted it, and walked away. He crossed the field onto the road and didn’t look back.

What did he mean? It doesn’t make sense. She didn’t understand why, but emptiness filled her spirit. He was different than any man she had met, and now he was gone. Without reason, eating together didn’t constitute a reason; he helped her without thought for personal gain. Only her childhood mentor had shown her such intimate care.

While eating the cold melon, she looked wistfully toward the road. Perhaps she was hasty in making him leave early. Would he return? She hoped he would have stayed longer so he could do the cooking. Of course, she wouldn’t have to chase him far to collect her bounty money. Under different circumstances, she might have been able to care for him.

He was only a mark. Krinna’s welfare depended on how soon she killed him and notified the guild. She would follow and use his amiable nature against him. At the right moment, she would strike and fill her coffer with wealth. She looked to the north road and let fiduciary thoughts ease her pain-racked body.

A rustling in the grass drew her attention to it. Gorga’s head protruded into the opening. She cut the heart out of the second half of the melon into two-inch pieces and fed them to her. When she finished, the viper crawled off the log and headed toward the house.