Robin Hobb - The Inheritance and Other Stories

“Well, turns out Pell and Meddalee had never seen fit to tell Meddalee’s father that bit of news. When her father started shouting at them both, saying he wouldn’t be grandfather to fortuneless bastards, she started weeping and squawking that it wouldn’t be like that, that Pell had come back to Cogsbay to fix things for them. And Rosemary?”

He cleared his throat and then said into her waiting silence, “That bastard as much as said, before everyone here, that he didn’t believe that one was really his.” The innkeeper tipped his head toward Gillam as if to be certain she understood his roundabout reference to her son. “When anyone who saw Pell grow up knows that the boy is an image of him when he was a lad.” Then he looked down at his big hands on the edge of the table for a few moments. Perhaps he expected Rosemary to be shocked at the news. Or shamed. She was neither. His words confused her. She had been so sure that Gillam was why Pell had returned, that her boy was what he wanted.

She took a spoonful of the cooling chowder. Not even the taste of the warm rich chowder could chase the bitterness from her mouth. She met Tamman’s gaze. “Pell’s lies are none of my doing,” she said quietly.

“More like what has been done to you,” the innkeeper conceded. He looked at the fire, allowing her a few moments of quiet in which to eat.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” she said at last. She had not asked him why, but he heard her question.

Tamman shifted on the bench. “Could be trouble is coming for you. That Meddalee is one determined woman. I’ve known her since she was a girl. Her parents used to send her here, clear across the bay, for her to stay with her cousins for the harvest. Rumor was that even then, they couldn’t handle her. She’s always been willful. She doesn’t seem to care what Pell is, only that she thinks he ought to be hers, even if he slaps her, even if he’s already got a son. Eda alone knows what Meddalee might do if she came out to your home. Be wary.”

“If she wants Pell, she’s welcome to him.”

The innkeeper shook his blunt head. “Rosemary, you aren’t hearing me. Her father was furious with her. Said that he wouldn’t let Pell come back, that Pell was a penniless cad who would use her and leave her with a bastard just as he did to you. Morrany is a wealthy man, across the bay. Owns two ships and three warehouses. He wants his daughter to marry well, someone with property for his grandchildren to inherit, alongside his own wealth. Pell can’t offer that. His father’s debts are such that when he goes, there won’t be two pence for his widow to rub together. His grandfather didn’t have much; Soader gave the cottage to your lad, and his little house here in town went to clear his debts after he was gone. Eda bless the man, he was a good soul and shared what he had while he was alive. Everyone in the village knew that he slipped Pell’s mother money whenever she asked; without him helping her, Pell’s father would have beggared them long ago. And when Soader was gone, well, there wasn’t anything left.

“So, think, girl. Your boy owns the only bit of land that might be an inheritance for Pell. Meddalee’s a determined woman. What would she have to do to make that cottage and land Pell’s?”

She furrowed her brow at him. The words came slowly. “Kill me? Kill . . .” She roved her glance over Gillam, unable to speak the words aloud.

Tamman nodded. “Now you understand.” He looked away from her. “They sat together, away from the fire but close to the back door. I made more than one trip out to the garbage heap last night, dumping dregs and garbage. I overheard things, Rosemary.” He looked at her directly. “Pell was talking, saying that he could fix it, that before summer was over, he’d have a place of his own and be free to marry her.”

Gillam had finished his food and was looking with unabashed interest at hers. She slid the half-full bowl across the table to him. Suddenly her hunger was gone; fear filled her belly. What had Pell been shouting as he came down the hill? That she had stolen his inheritance? She tried to think as Pell would. He’d come back home to them and tried to make them believe it was good. Tried to get her to trust him. If it had worked, what would he have done next? Get rid of her first. A tumble down the cliff, or perhaps he would say the cow had trampled her. And then, well, a month or so later, tragedy would strike him again. His boy would die “of a cough” in his sleep. Or fall from the cliffs. Or wander off into the fens, never to be seen again. And the cottage would pass to him.

She looked at her boy spooning up mouthfuls of thick, rich chowder. A slow, cold anger rose in her. She’d been a fool. So blind. Gillam was the most precious thing in her life and she thought Pell had come back to take him from her.

He’d come back to destroy him. She thought suddenly of his knife. A gift. A very sharp knife. She suddenly knew who had given it to him.

“Will you be safe, Rosemary?”

The innkeeper’s words called her gaze back to him. “I will,” she said. Pell would not. Time to finish what she had left undone. She set her two coins on the edge of the table, but Tamman shook his head.

“Not this time, my dear. It’s been too long since you patronized my place. And your coming here today saved me a hike around the cliffs to your cottage. Now. Where is Pell? Did he come home last night?”

She shook her head slowly and chose her words. “He never came into the cottage. I don’t know where he is now.” It was almost a truth. He had never reached the cottage door. And right now, he might have recovered and be on his way here. Or still lying behind the cow byre.

But the innkeeper only nodded as if that confirmed his guess. “Last night, Meddalee Morrany’s father dragged her out of here. She was kicking and spitting and shrieking and trying her claws on his face. Pell stood and shouted that she was a woman grown, that her father had no right to force her to go home, but Morrany had the captain and the mate of one of his ships with him, and Pell daren’t start a fight with any one of them, let alone three. He said, woman or no, she was acting like a spoiled child and so he would treat her. So, after a noisy shouting match outside, her father took her down to his ship. Said he was taking her back across the bay in the morning and that Pell would stay away if he knew what was good for him. But Pell’s never known what was good for him. So I suspected that he’d follow and try to steal her back.” Tamman nodded to himself and stood slowly. “Pell was pretty drunk when he left here. I didn’t think he’d make it as far as your cottage even if he headed that way.”

“He didn’t,” she said quietly. “Maybe he’s sleeping it off somewhere. Maybe he went to his father’s house.”

“Or maybe he’s looking for a way to get across the bay. Meddalee’s father’s boat is still tied up to the docks, waiting for the tide to be right. He might even be down there trying to weasel his way back into her father’s favor.”

“Maybe.” But she knew Pell better than Tamman did. Perhaps at first, run off by Meddalee’s father, he’d simply come home to her cottage as a place where he could go. But that wasn’t what he’d intended this morning. He’d come back to the cottage, thinking to get rid of his inconvenient son. He’d come to kill Gillam. The cat had been right. And knowing that changed everything.

Everything.

The cat was right. She’d been a fool. Resolution as cold as iron stiffened her spine. She smiled at Tamman, a small cat’s smile. “Well. We’ve errands to do, Gillam and I. Thank you for the chowder, Tamman, and for the warning. And you are right. It has been far too long since we’ve dropped in. Sometimes I forget that I do have friends.”