he tried to fall to his knees before the Guards, but Darius caught him in time.
‘Please don't trouble yourself,’ he said quite loudly, though he tried to make it sound friendly. ‘I wanted to ask you something. May we come in?’
The old man merely nodded and gestured towards a shaded room.
‘Thank you,’ Bleist nodded and entered with the others.
The interior of the cottage consisted of a single room, screened off on one side by a thin curtain, from behind which a section of a bed protruded. The rest of the space contained nothing but a hearth, a table and a bench, and a small workbench on which lay small stones roughly shaped by a skilled hand.
‘Are you Jome?’ Darius asked before they had even reached the table.
‘Yes, sir.’ The old man grew even more frightened, and even his weary face smoothed out slightly.
‘Have you heard about the murder a week ago?’ Bleist gestured for the man to sit on the bench, whilst he himself leaned against the wall.
‘I don't know anything... What could I possibly...?’ the old man began in a breaking voice.
‘I don't want to accuse you of anything,’ the colonel tried to reassure him. ‘I wanted to ask for your help. The priest said you know everyone in the village, so this is where I should be asking about the locals.’
‘Oh, in that case, ask away, sir. I’ll tell you whatever I know.’ Jome regained his composure surprisingly quickly and looked at his interlocutor with a clearer mind.
‘I’m looking for the family of the murdered Caim Rocha. He had relatives in the village whom I’d like to speak to,’ the earl admitted openly.
‘The one they killed?’ The old man furrowed his brow, if that was even possible, even more. ‘Rocha, you say, sir?’
‘Yes, Caim Rocha, son of Felipe and Ines. Twenty-seven years old.’ Rex clarified.
‘There is no one here by that name,’ Jome said, surprised. He seemed genuinely taken aback, which once again caused consternation among the Guards.
‘Are you sure?’ Darius clenched his
