Once outside, we chatted quietly as we walked, mulling over the conversation and the mystery Stonebridge posed. For the three men working, the possibility of wild animals couldn’t be immediately discounted, even if the evidence at the scene apparently disputed this. The biggest mystery was Breeda, so we decided to go and have a look at her house first. Paolo had given us directions to her house, along with tokens of authority used by anyone in the village working on village business. He didn’t think we would need them, but they should smooth things if we were challenged as we carried out our investigations for him.
Her house was a small cottage, similar to others we saw around Stonebridge. Built of a mix of wood and plastered stone with a thatched roof on top. We opened the door and let ourselves in. The air had the musty smell of an empty and unused space, with furniture starting to gather the first traces of dust. Breeda’s former home was comfortably furnished, with the feel of a place that was once well-loved. A spinning wheel and small loom were the main features of the room, with a piece of half-completed cloth lying forlornly unfinished on the frame. The kitchen was similarly undisturbed, neatly kept and cared for, although food in the pantry was definitely past its point of no return. A small mouse scurried out through a barely visible hole in the outer wall as we looked in.
Not finding anything amiss downstairs, we headed up to what were two small bedrooms and a washroom. One room was clearly an unused guest room, the other, the scene of Breeda’s disappearance. The bed itself was old but functional, the straw mattress fat and comfortable-looking. Her bed was in disarray, with covers thrown half off, though it was hard to say if that was due to a struggle or just from getting up and not remaking the bed. There was a peculiar smell in the air that I couldn’t place, and Elara noticed one of the window panes was broken, small pieces of glass scattered on the floor below it. At her call, I got up from where I had been trying to inspect under the bed to see if I could find anything.
"Okay," I said, "whatever or whoever spirited Breeda away seems to have come in through the window."
"Have you noticed that smell?" she asked me.
I nodded. "But I can’t place it."
"It’s Listwort," Elara informed me. "In mild doses, it can help you relax, but in high doses, it will put you into a deep sleep for many hours."
"So we know how it was done, just no idea on the who," I say with a frown. I took a close look at the window. It had been pulled back closed, but it was obviously the point of entry, the broken pane right next to the window latch. Snagged on a small shard of glass were a few dark fibres, so it was probable that the kidnapper wore dark clothing—a reasonable assumption to avoid detection at night.
‘I am no detective,’ I berate myself. ‘And where are forensics when you need them?’ It’s frustrating, but I can only do my best, and maybe something will come up as we continue looking into things.
We left the house, but what little we had been able to discover only served to deepen the mystery. At least we had one clue: we knew that a drug had likely been used to subdue her, although it was also possible that she used the herb herself to aid her restful sleep. Unfortunately, there was no chance of detecting the same aroma at the work sites where the other three had gone missing. All traces would have long since blown away and dispersed.
We still scoured the areas they had been working in. As Paolo had told us, there was no obvious sign of a struggle and none of the disturbance that would have been left from an animal attack. At one site, we did find more of the black fibres caught on a thorn bush. So the chance that it was the same person increased with this direct connection to Breeda’s house. Misty appeared as we were examining the second location and nudged my mind to ask what we were doing. I did my best to explain, and she seemed disinterested as she meandered back into the undergrowth. Elara and I looked at each other in frustration after finishing our check of the final place.
"This is going to be harder than I first thought," I admit to her. Misty reappeared and dropped a small cloth-wrapped bundle at my feet, giving me a small mew before starting to fastidiously clean her face with an air of total disinterest. I picked it up and opened it carefully; the smell became apparent immediately.
Listwort.
"Let's go see Vita next," I suggest. "Find out where this plant may be obtained around here." Elara gives a nod, and we head back to the path leading to her house outside the village. Once there, we find the place empty and the door firmly secured, so we decide to try again later if we can’t find the information in Stonebridge itself. Heading back, we decide to call it a day as it’s getting towards dusk. We can continue tomorrow, and in the meantime, a hearty supper awaits us.
Back in the Cock and Ball, we settle into an evening of good food and companionable conversation. Jake has heard of Listwort, though he doesn’t use it himself; he knows a few villagers have it for when they have trouble sleeping.
"Vita keeps a stock, though it's not cheap, and as far as I know, it doesn’t grow locally," he tells me.
‘She is definitely our next point of call,’ I muse.
"Have there been any other odd things going on around here apart from the missing people?" I ask him.
He thinks for a bit. "Old Liam lost a cow the other week, and the dogs seem a bit jittery." He rubs his chin.
"Apart from that, and the dogs could just be picking up on the general air in the village, with the missing folks on everybody’s minds." He shakes his head. "Nothing I can think of."
After a hearty meal—‘venison?’ I think with a smile, remembering seeing Jake earlier in the market—and a few mugs of his excellent ale, we head back upstairs for a night’s rest.
The next morning, we are soon heading back out. Elara decides to talk to people in the town while I go back to Vita’s. As we pass through the market square, where we will make our separate ways, a harried Paolo waves us over.
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"Another one," he declares as we approach. "Last night, another went missing."
We stop, taking in his dishevelled state. He looks as though he has been dragged from bed and into the thick of things without even a chance to comb his hair. He is flustered, and justly so, with yet more bad news hitting the people he is responsible for.
"This morning," he tells us, "I went downstairs, and there was nothing prepared as it normally is. I went to Emily’s room—she’s my maid," he clarifies. "She was gone, not a trace of her."
He beckons us urgently to follow him back to his home in the elder's residence. Passing quickly through the front office, we are soon in the private quarters. A dining room leads onto a kitchen where the stove is cold and untouched, the counters empty of any breakfast preparations. Behind that is Emily’s room. She keeps house for Paolo, generally cooking and keeping his residence tidy. The room is dishevelled, with bedclothes in an untidy pile on the floor. The window into the backyard is pushed closed but not latched, and there is no broken glass, so it’s easy to assume she slept with the window slightly open. The smell of Listwort is very obvious. We have a good look around, but there really is nothing else to be found apart from the fact that she has obviously joined the ranks of the missing.
"Can we go and see the area outside this window?" I ask.
Nodding, Paolo quickly takes us into the backyard. The area is surrounded by a well-built wall, around six feet tall, with a gate in the far corner. On checking it, the gate is fastened shut with a heavy padlock. An almost-dry puddle under the window holds the drying remains of a footprint. It’s large, possibly a boot, but very generic in its look—there isn’t even a visible tread to give a clue. Some crates piled against a wall, presumably from a supplies delivery, could have been used to climb the wall, but with an unconscious body to carry, it would either be very difficult or require a high degree of strength.
‘Maybe more than one person is carrying out the kidnappings?’ I wonder.
"And you heard nothing during the night?" I ask Paolo.
"No," he replies. "But I slept heavily as I used a draft to aid my rest. I have been having difficulty sleeping since all this started."
"Listwort?" I ask, and get a nod in answer.
"How many people in Stonebridge use Listwort?" asks Elara. "Considering it’s not common in the area, there seems to be an awful lot of it about."
‘Good spot, girl,’ I think, realising that a good knowledge of what is and isn’t normal in Gondowa is something I’m severely lacking.
"I… I couldn’t really say," stammers Paolo, still obviously reeling from the disappearance of Emily. "A travelling healer came by a couple of months back, one of the suppliers who brings more obscure items to Vita, and he also sold some bits to some of the market traders for home remedies."
"Did you know the man? Was he one of her regular traders?" I ask.
The elder thinks for a while, then shakes his head. "I can’t say that I did, but then not all of them come by the village; some just stay with her while they are here."
"Can you describe the medicine guy?" Elara asks him.
"Not really. I barely spoke to him. Maybe six foot or so, dark hair, beard, dressed in leathers with a black cloak—that’s all I can recall." He shakes his head in frustration, his eyes still roving around the empty backyard. "Maybe Vita or one of the stall holders would be able to do better."
‘Right, so mystery man is number one on the suspect list,’ I consider thoughtfully. ‘Not exactly a work of genius there, Del. What are you missing?’
"Right," I brush my hands together. "We can’t do anything else here. I suggest you make sure everyone knows to be extra careful at night, stay together, and don’t be alone even during the evening. We will be back later, but for now, we need to go talk to more people."
We head back out to the square and cross to the small market area, which is bustling with morning trading. It’s easy to find the stall selling Listwort as its distinctive aroma is obvious once you know to look for it. The stall sells a variety of home remedies along with other basic household essentials like soap and—‘TOOTHPASTE,’ my brain almost screams at me as I spot the pot of white minty paste. I grab two pots along with an odd stick with a carefully frayed end used to clean teeth, my mouth almost salivating at the thought of being clean and fresh again. Unfortunately, despite being the supplier of both toothpaste and Listwort, the lady stallholder can tell us little of the man she bought the supplies from; her description is, if anything, even vaguer than Paolo’s.
As we leave the market, I look at Elara. "Do you still want to split up?" I ask.
She nods. "We can maybe find out more if I ask around here while you go talk with Vita."
After agreeing to meet at the inn for lunch, we head off on our separate ways.
It doesn’t take me long to leave the village and head up the narrow track to Vita's home. On the way, I am joined by Misty, who struts happily along beside my legs.
‘Strange,’ I think as we round the last bend to see the cottage ahead. ‘No smoke from the chimney and it looks…’ I ponder, ‘empty.’
"What do you think, girl?" I ask the cat. She gives me a look, then bounds away. I check the door. Locked. "Vita?" I call, giving it a loud knock. "Are you there?" No answer. I feel Misty’s nudge. ‘Come.’ So I head around the cottage to the back to see Misty standing on the kitchen window ledge. The window is wide open. I peer inside but can see nothing in the dim interior. I call out to her again with the same negative result. With a sigh, I heave myself up, squeeze through the small window, and land in an undignified heap on her kitchen floor. Misty joins me in a much more elegant fashion, and we begin to look through the house.
It is quickly apparent that she isn’t home and possibly hasn’t been since we last saw her. The place itself is orderly and as it was back then. Upstairs were the areas we didn’t see on our earlier visit—the small alchemy room in the attic was well kept, everything in its place, workspace was clean and tidy. The bedroom was another matter. It was a mess, bedclothes thrown on the floor, a single slipper kicked half under the bed and a pungent smell of Listwort heavy in the air. She was gone, and almost certainly another victim of the disappearances.
Misty gave a little sorrowful mewl.
“I agree girl,” I said. “We need to get back to Stonebridge.”