woman I love. I should bow down on my knees before you!”
“Not necessary,” said Matthew, fearing the doctor might actually do such a thing. “I was glad to do my part in that particular play, and I am surely glad that now her time of woe and worry has come to an end.” And certainly it appeared so, for wife retreated toward husband and husband put arm around wife and wife who was once accused of witchcraft in a nasty little cell smiled very happily indeed, and the scarred champion nodded his approval for time had moved on and so must all men and women. She had made him what he was today, and because of her he had come very far from his first experience at “problem-solving”—though he hadn’t known it at the time—in Fount Royal. Still, it was a bittersweet moment for Matthew, who had never felt so alone in a place in his life.
“We live on an estate just outside town,” Rachel said. “You must come to dinner with us tonight!”
“We insist!” said Dr. Stevenson. “It’s the least we can do!”
Matthew thought about it, but not too long. He had other business on his mind, and after this was done he planned on going home. There was no need to revisit his—or Rachel’s—past any further, and besides he reasoned really that Rachel herself would begin to feel uncomfortable about this invitation as soon as he accepted it. Therefore he said, “Thank you, but I have to decline. My time here is very limited, but—again—thank you.”
“Solving another problem?” Rachel asked. Was it Matthew’s imagination, or did she look a mite relieved? After all, he recalled an event in an Indian village, when he was nearly insensible and recovering from the wounds inflicted upon him by Jack One Eye, in which he’d dreamed that this beautiful woman had crawled atop him to further the healing process by the heat of her body and passion of her kiss. But had it really been a dream? Only Rachel knew for sure, and though this was not a problem it was surely a mystery that Matthew knew he would never solve. Perhaps it was better that way, to keep some events in the realm of the mysterious.
“Well,” Matthew answered, “as you mention it, yes . Or rather, a personal issue I’d like to address. May I ask if either of you know a man named Magnus—”
“Muldoon?” the doctor interrupted. “Of course! He’s done work on the estate, clearing trees and such. A tireless worker, to be sure. And I tended to his father in the poor man’s last days of swamp fever, just after I arrived last summer, Muldoon’s mother having passed away several years ago. You have business with him?”
“I do. Might I ask how to find him?”
“I’ve never been to his house,” was the reply. “He brought his father to me in their wagon to tend to. But I believe it’s up the North Road past the town of Jubilee and the Green Sea Plantation, which is maybe eight miles from here.” He gave an impish smile. “You might ask for further directions there, as the trails up along the River of Souls are…shall we say…for the adventurous.”
“The River of Souls?” Matthew asked.
“Yes, the Solstice River, which branches off from the Cooper. The Green Sea Plantation grows rice along there.”
“Ah.” Matthew nodded. He’d heard of the Solstice River during his time spent here as a magistrate’s clerk, but neither he nor Magistrate Woodward had ever had need to travel in that northward direction. For the most part they had remained within the town’s walls, dedicated to the local legal matters. “Swamp country, then.”
“What isn’t , around here?” The doctor shrugged. “One gets used to damp earth under the boots.”
“Just so the boots aren’t under the damp earth,” Matthew said, thinking of his last escapade through muddy water on Pendulum Island. “I lived here for several years, but I’ve never heard the Solstice River called the River of Souls.”
“Witchcraft,” Rachel
“Not necessary,” said Matthew, fearing the doctor might actually do such a thing. “I was glad to do my part in that particular play, and I am surely glad that now her time of woe and worry has come to an end.” And certainly it appeared so, for wife retreated toward husband and husband put arm around wife and wife who was once accused of witchcraft in a nasty little cell smiled very happily indeed, and the scarred champion nodded his approval for time had moved on and so must all men and women. She had made him what he was today, and because of her he had come very far from his first experience at “problem-solving”—though he hadn’t known it at the time—in Fount Royal. Still, it was a bittersweet moment for Matthew, who had never felt so alone in a place in his life.
“We live on an estate just outside town,” Rachel said. “You must come to dinner with us tonight!”
“We insist!” said Dr. Stevenson. “It’s the least we can do!”
Matthew thought about it, but not too long. He had other business on his mind, and after this was done he planned on going home. There was no need to revisit his—or Rachel’s—past any further, and besides he reasoned really that Rachel herself would begin to feel uncomfortable about this invitation as soon as he accepted it. Therefore he said, “Thank you, but I have to decline. My time here is very limited, but—again—thank you.”
“Solving another problem?” Rachel asked. Was it Matthew’s imagination, or did she look a mite relieved? After all, he recalled an event in an Indian village, when he was nearly insensible and recovering from the wounds inflicted upon him by Jack One Eye, in which he’d dreamed that this beautiful woman had crawled atop him to further the healing process by the heat of her body and passion of her kiss. But had it really been a dream? Only Rachel knew for sure, and though this was not a problem it was surely a mystery that Matthew knew he would never solve. Perhaps it was better that way, to keep some events in the realm of the mysterious.
“Well,” Matthew answered, “as you mention it, yes . Or rather, a personal issue I’d like to address. May I ask if either of you know a man named Magnus—”
“Muldoon?” the doctor interrupted. “Of course! He’s done work on the estate, clearing trees and such. A tireless worker, to be sure. And I tended to his father in the poor man’s last days of swamp fever, just after I arrived last summer, Muldoon’s mother having passed away several years ago. You have business with him?”
“I do. Might I ask how to find him?”
“I’ve never been to his house,” was the reply. “He brought his father to me in their wagon to tend to. But I believe it’s up the North Road past the town of Jubilee and the Green Sea Plantation, which is maybe eight miles from here.” He gave an impish smile. “You might ask for further directions there, as the trails up along the River of Souls are…shall we say…for the adventurous.”
“The River of Souls?” Matthew asked.
“Yes, the Solstice River, which branches off from the Cooper. The Green Sea Plantation grows rice along there.”
“Ah.” Matthew nodded. He’d heard of the Solstice River during his time spent here as a magistrate’s clerk, but neither he nor Magistrate Woodward had ever had need to travel in that northward direction. For the most part they had remained within the town’s walls, dedicated to the local legal matters. “Swamp country, then.”
“What isn’t , around here?” The doctor shrugged. “One gets used to damp earth under the boots.”
“Just so the boots aren’t under the damp earth,” Matthew said, thinking of his last escapade through muddy water on Pendulum Island. “I lived here for several years, but I’ve never heard the Solstice River called the River of Souls.”
“Witchcraft,” Rachel
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