Free To Kill a Kettle Witch (Novel of the Mist-Torn Witches) by Barb Hendee Page A

little sense to Jaromir. Princes normally had no reservations about using harsh methods against women when their livelihoods were at stake. It seemed odd that Malcolm had tortured the girl’s husband and then simply questioned her twice.
    “That isn’t the worst, though,” Alondra went on. “The people are starting to suspect each other now. This would be a powerful curse for an outsider to cast. What if it was one of us?”
    Amelie reached out and touched the woman’s arm. “If it was, my sister and I will find out, and we’ll get the rest of you free.”

Chapter Six
    Céline hurried inside the white wagon and lifted her wooden box of medicinal supplies onto the table. Opening it, she looked inside and began taking out the most commonly needed ointments, syrups, and elixirs.
    Oliver was up on the top bunk. As of yet, he’d not ventured out of the wagon, and she wondered if he might be better off remaining inside for now.
    Marcus stood in the open doorway watching her.
    “I just saw Amelie heading off with Jaromir and Helga,” she said. “If I need assistance, can you help?”
    “Yes. If you tell me what to do.”
    Keeping busy helped to stave off the emotions running through her, and she kept seeing Sinead’s stricken face. Other snippets of the exchange that had taken place out front began coming back to her, and she had a few questions before any other people began to arrive.
    “Marcus, you asked if you were welcome here, but Helga did not. I assumed she was somehow driven from her people, but no one questioned her presence. Do you know why she left?”
    He dropped his eyes in embarrassment. She knew he didn’t care for such questions.
    “I’ve been trying to remember for days now,” he answered. “But if she left five years ago, that was the same year my own family began falling into difficulties. The only thing I cared about was hunting and bringing home food.”
    “So you have no idea?”
    “I know there was some trouble between the Taragoš and the Ayres early that spring. Jago was accused of killing one of the Ayres, and there was a gathering of the leaders to make a judgment, and they found him innocent. If they deemed him innocent, he most likely was.” His embarrassment seemed to deepen. “But I don’t even remember Helga from back then. As I said, we were in difficulty ourselves, and I spent all my time either hunting or sleeping. I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be.” She almost regretted asking him now. “You can’t be blamed for seeing first to the needs of your family and spending most of your time hunting as a wolf.”
    What a very odd conversation.
    Footsteps sounded from the steps outside the door, and Céline looked over to see a mother with two children. Both children were coughing.
    Céline smiled. “Come in.” She turned to Marcus. “I may need hot water. Can you build a campfire and get some started?”
    After that, the time passed quickly. She’d brought plenty of cough syrup made from a mixture of honey and water that had been extensively steeped in rose petals. She treated several festered insect bites.
    Marcus brought hot water when she needed some for cleaning.
    For the most part, Céline thought these people were suffering most from fear and stress. She spoke with some of them and learned that the Yegor guards carried in water from a nearby stream for the horses and for cooking, but it was never enough. The shifters weren’t allowed to leave the meadow to hunt, and food supplies were running low. Grain for the horses was being rationed.
    Marcus listened to this with a darkening expression, but Céline continued to work as quickly as she could.
    A little girl came in with a particularly concerning injury on her hand. Her father carried her and sat her at the table.
    “One of the guards has a dog,” he said. “She tried to pet it, and it snapped at her. The man did apologize and had the animal sent back up to the castle, but the wound has grown worse.”
    Frowning,