"Connor, and young Donnie," he said.
"Oh, Charles!" My heart squeezed, and tears filled my eyes. "I am sorry, so sorry."
"Jessamine," he said, taking my hand, "I have come to tell you that Robbie is missing."
I stared at him, the tears freezing in my eyes.
"There was a skirmish between the citizens and the outlaws, and several were killed," he said. "In the end, both carried away dead; of the district seven men were lost.
Robbie was not found. We know not if he lives. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you, lass."
My mind rejected the idea of Robbie dead; such a thought was insupportable. He was simply off somewhere with Eco, or with some other acquaintances. He would come home to Brianag any day, and his laughter would fill the house again for a while, until he rode away on another of his escapades. Adventure was what Robbie lived for; he would never be dead.
Before I could speak, he said, "We have spoken to the Creeks. They have not seen him."
"Even Eco has not seen him?" I choked on the words.
"She says not since the Moon of Falling Leaves."
I stared at him, my mouth open.
"That's October, Jessie; she hasn't seen him since then."
October. Eco said she had not seen Robbie since October. In October, we had left Barraigh for Brianag. I felt suddenly weak. Robbie had left Brianag the first of November.
Charles took my hand again.
"Jessie. You must not hope too much. We fear that Robbie shall not be restored to us."
I said, "But he was with you at the fight," I said.
"Yes," said Charles.
Again, my mind slammed the door on the picture of Robbie dead. No. He is not dead.
He is alive somewhere; of course he is! He will be home at any moment.
Charles was looking at me; I realized I had spoken out loud. I pulled my hands away from his. Mrs. Randall entered the room. Charles stood; all the men bowed.
"Madam Randall," Charles said. "I fear I bring bad news."
Mrs. Randall fainted, slumping against Polo, who could barely hold her up. Charles carried her to a settee; I knelt beside her, chafing her hands, until her maid arrived with the smelling salts. When she roused, she looked at me and said, "My boy is dead."
"No, no!" I said. "He is not dead, Mrs. Randall! Only missing."