He listened to the snow sift across the dock and plop into the water. The crisp air burned his lungs and froze the tips of his ears as it blew under his hood. He replaced the mask and stood, brushing his knees off.
He needed to get up and away from the house. Fearchar and Seonaid would have returned to their cottage from giving Iain the notice of Plague. With luck, there would be no issue and the decree would go out to the town to leave the Daleroch estate alone.
Eoin drew in a steadying breath. He flipped open his lantern and checked the length of his candle. If he walked quickly, he’d make it back to the cottage before the flame sputtered out. He climbed the slick hill, finding long forgotten footholds in the rock that allowed him out behind the property and through a shortcut to the road that would not be noticed from the front of the house.
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