Indenuel walked inside his home to see Matteo reading to Emilia and Lola. Lucia had taught them all to read, and it was good to see Matteo practicing. They had one book to read from, but it was enough. Matteo placed the book to one side when Indenuel walked in and the children stood, waiting for Indenuel to say something.

“Go get the brush. You’re going to have dinner at Andres house,” Indenuel said.

The little girls squealed while Matteo gave him a questioning look. “Indenuel, are you leaving us?”

The knot in his throat kept him from telling the truth. “You will be their guests and must be on your best behavior.”

“Are you coming with us, Indenuel?” Isla asked.

“I still need time to rest and recover.” A lie, but easier than the truth. Isla nodded before she chased her sister to get the single brush in their house. Matteo stood there, still studying Indenuel. “Go get ready, Matteo.”

“Did you get angry at the villagers?” Matteo whispered. “Is that why it snowed?”

Indenuel looked away. “It snowed because I miss Ami. But I came to realize she’s at peace now.”

“Did Ami Lucia lie to us about the warrior?” Matteo asked.

Matteo always asked the hard questions. Luckily, Indenuel found a distraction from answering as the twins came back with a brush. Indenuel helped brush the knots out of their hair until it was smooth. Matteo combed out his own hair before Indenuel helped them into clothes to keep the autumn chill away and ushered them out the door. The twins held hands as they left. Matteo wouldn’t leave until Indenuel promised he would be here when they returned. Indenuel watched them until they disappeared down the dirt road.

He entered his too quiet house and sat down. He had only been alone with his thoughts at nighttime, and he hated it then. Indenuel folded his arms as he sat down on a chair. He could meditate, but he had no desire to. He had to face the situation eventually. He would be moving on to Santollia City, and the children would stay here. He might not see them again. Even then, they themselves would change. He had grown attached to them, and the thought of anyone else raising them, especially Andres and Lola with their fakeness, made him feel a deep sadness. They would try to turn the children against him. Indenuel didn’t want to leave. He would have to try make a better argument for Martin as to why they should come. He was ready to say goodbye to this village and the people in it. He was not ready to say goodbye to Matteo, Emilia and Isla.

***

Martin situated himself at the table, smiling at the twin girls who were talking quietly amongst themselves. Andres smiled politely in their direction as Lola brought over a large pot of soup.

“May God bless you for your services to these orphans,” Martin said to Lola.

She beamed at him. “Thank you, Martin the Healer. After all, this soup is all thanks to you.”

Martin shook his head. “I am simply a tool in the hands of God. It is to Him we must give our praise.”

Lola nodded as she sat. Andres held his wife’s hand. “And we must do so now. High Elder Martin, would you give the evening meal prayer?”

Martin bowed his head. “An honor.”

Andres glanced in the direction of the children. The twins had stilled, and Matteo watched from his corner of the table. “Do you know what we do during prayers, children?” Andres asked.

Matteo’s emotions stayed hidden for a moment before he opened his mouth. “Ami Lucia taught us well.”

A tight smile appeared on Andres’ face. “Of course she did.”

“Come now, children. Hold hands,” Martin said.

The three children obeyed as Andres and Lola held hands with each other. Martin allowed his thoughts to stray to his own family for a moment, the homesickness he felt this past year welling up inside before he pushed it away to say the prayer. “We give thanks to God for this food. May it give us strength to prepare for the Savior’s coming, and may we always be in service of Thee.”

“God be with us,” everyone said at the end of the prayer.

Lola dished Martin some soup in a bowl. “Thank you, Lola,” he said as he accepted the bowl of soup.

Lola gave some soup to Andres, then herself, before dishing up three bowls and pushing them in the direction of the children. Martin waited until everyone was dished before he began eating. It wasn’t customary, but he found it easier, especially with young children. They were all quiet as they ate. Martin watched them, seeing how quickly they drank their soup. Andres and Lola tried to show manners, but the far too recent food scare made all of them devour their soup.

“What a beautiful village you have,” Martin said to fill the silence.

“You should see it in the summertime. So warm and inviting. The children play outside all day in the spring that runs just before the farmlands. It’s simply a magical time,” Andres said.

“It sounds lovely. I find Santollia City gets far too hot for my taste in the summer. Our city’s capacity almost triples, since many of the cities to the south of us get even hotter. The farmers and their families who come to do their trade simply stay for the season.”

“What a boisterous time!” Lola said. “I should very much like to visit Santollia City.”

“I’m certain that could be arranged. I sense Indenuel will miss these children dearly.” At this Matteo glanced over at Martin. The boy had very large eyes, and Martin could see the sadness inside. “You must come visit Indenuel as many times as you are able, yes?”

Matteo nodded.

“High Elder Martin is speaking to you, boy. You must show the proper respect. Stop all this head bobbing and use your voice,” Lola said.

Matteo cleared his throat as he looked down at his nearly empty bowl. “That would please me very much, High Elder Martin.”

Lola shook her head. “I see I’m going to have to reteach some manners into these children.”

“I’m sure they are simply overcome with emotions,” Martin said. “After all, these last few days have been quite newsworthy. I’m sure the entire country will hear about what went on in this village.” Martin nodded in Matteo’s direction. Matteo tried to give a smile before it faltered, and he turned back to his soup. “Looks like Matteo is still hungry,” Martin said, noticing Matteo scraping the last of the soup from his bowl.

Lola hesitated before standing up and offering more soup to Matteo.

“High Elder Martin,” Andres began. “Are you quite sure Indenuel is the Warrior?”

Martin soaked a piece of bread in the last of his soup. “I am certain. The only thing left to do is bring him to the three other High Elders and get their confirmation.” Andres nodded, a troubled look coming over his face. “You have something to say on the matter?”

Andres sighed. “It is unlike me to speak ill of the dead, sir.” Lola gave an emphatic nod. “But Lucia had nasty rumors swarming about her the moment she came to this village.”

“We should not speak ill of the dead, yes,” Martin said as he placed his empty bowl to the left of him. “After all, Lucia was also these children’s caretaker.”

“Of course,” Andres said, glancing in the direction of the children. “But this needs to be addressed before you take Indenuel to the city. You must know the kind of person Lucia was.”

“Seems to me she was a caring, wonderful person who took in orphan children and did an excellent job raising the future Warrior,” Martin said, placing his hands within his robe sleeves to keep them warm.

The children were finishing up, waiting to be excused. Lola stood. “Let me show you children where you will be sleeping in the coming days.”

The twins leapt to their feet, giggling with excitement as Lola took their hands and lead them away from the table. Matteo’s eyes darted between Martin and Andres, looking conflicted.

“My wife does not like to repeat herself, boy. I suggest you move along,” Andres said.

Matteo looked away again before following Lola into a room. Martin watched Matteo leave before turning back to Andres.

“I must insist we stop talking about this,” Martin said.

“She was suspected of murder,” Andres said before Martin could finish.

Martin closed his mouth before it tugged into a frown. “Just a rumor, certainly?”

“Rumored because she never got caught.” There was an anger underlining Andres’ tone. “My sister’s husband, Efano, was helping that poor woman a year ago. They lent her some food for the children with the promise she would pay them back. It isn’t my place to pry on what she spent her money on, but what I do know is it kept her from feeding the children.”

“The charity money from the village? What had happened to it?” Martin asked.

Andres shrugged. “Spent it on something else. She kept talking about how she was waiting for money to come in, but we had no idea what she was talking about, and she refused to specify. She was clearly lying about having the money, and Efano did not budge. She had been leeching off Efano for months. All the food that should have been going to the war efforts, instead feeding the children. He was right to ask money for it. They had a huge argument at dinner. The next morning, he was dead. Poisoned from something only a corrupted tree talker could produce. He had only eaten from her house.”

Martin stayed quiet the entire time, watching Andres for any sign of falsehood, but he found none. Martin had to conclude that Andres truly believed this story.

“I understand your concern. There are many layers to this story, certainly.”

“Lucia was a murderer,” Andres said.

“I shall study it out,” Martin said.

“Indenuel will just lie to you,” Andres said.

“I must insist we drop this subject. You have told your story.” Martin stood. “Will the children be staying here for the night?”

“We do not have sufficient mattresses for them right now,” Andres said. “They would be sleeping on the floor, if they stayed here.” Martin nodded. “Of course, I’m assuming they have mattresses at Indenuel’s place now.”

“They do.” Martin checked to see the children were still with Lola in a different part of the house. “Whatever opinions you have of Lucia, you must understand she did try her best, and I believe her best was in line with the truths of the church. I should hope a God-fearing man such as yourself would also raise these children with those same truths in mind.”

“Absolutely, High Elder Martin. I would hate to face God in the afterlife if I hadn’t done my best.”

Martin gathered his dishes, giving Andres a smile. “Tomorrow we shall arrange to have their beds moved to your lovely home.”

Andres nodded as Lola came back into the room. “It will of course be an honor.”