Regynn Winters

Speculation

“Then why did they send you?” Regynn looked up from her mending, her gaze settling on the boy who had spoken, “I don’t know Garrett. I wish I did.”

“I bet they wanted you to be a spy but you weren’t very good at it.” the boy replied.

She paused again, the needle poised over a pair of faded, much patched trousers, “Why would you say that?” she asked.

Garrett shrugged, “Well you just wouldn’t be, that’s all. You’re always helping people; doing the mending, feeding the poor, taking blankets to the homeless. You’re just too good to be bad.”

Several of the other children seated around her nodded their heads in agreement but one boy shook his and said, “Don’t you see, that’s what makes the best kind of spy. Everybody sees a goody goody, they wouldn’t expect her to be telling on them or giving up their secrets.”

Regynn’s eyes widened slightly at this, and even more so when every child in the room turned to give her looks of speculation. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a young girl, “Specially when she sees the prisoners. They got all kinds of secrets and ain’t seen a nice person in ever. They’d be happy to tell Miss Reggy everything.”

Garrett turned a solemn face on the priestess, “You gotta be careful Miss Reggy. If they find out you’re a spy they could hurt you. You can’t trust bad guys cause… well… they’re bad.” he looked around the group, lowering his voice slightly, “They could catch you when you’re coming home from the stockades. Or when you’re collecting food from the restaurants. Or… or even leaving here. And when they get you they could break your legs.” the boy nodded sagely.

The girl who had spoken, Maggy, added, “Or break your fingers so you can’t write no more letters.” Suddenly the room was full of the grisly details of what the bad guys would do if they were to catch up to Regynn, the children’s voices quickly becoming tinged with panic.

Looking around at the varying degrees of alarm on the faces of her charges, Reggy put her sewing aside, her gaze moving around the group, making eye contact with each child in turn. “You guys are letting your imaginations run away with you. None of that is going to happen to me. They didn’t send me to spy on anyone. I’m not a spy. I’m just a priest, there’s nothing special about me.”

As she spoke the children began to relax a little. She smiled gently and retrieved her mending. She lifted the needle from the fabric, the gleaming tip piercing the cotton with precision but she stopped when Garrett spoke again.

“Then why did they send you?”

She signed heavily, her shoulders slumping slightly,  “I don’t know Garrett. I wish I did.”