And there would be time enough. There was a girl in a nearby town, a girl they say will one day be ennustaja. She was only eleven years old, but already people were bringing to her their tales of unfaithful husbands, dying mothers, and lottery dreams.
One night, when the rue flowers were in bloom, and the Narva River ran silent, he would visit her.
Villem sat before the fire, his stomach full, the house and grounds secure. In a few days, a new year would begin.
Outside, in the soundless white of the countryside, a pair of silver eyes watched. And waited.