She nodded. “That’s good to know, about the tea,” Warna said. “Is there anything else I need be careful of?”
“Some of the elven healing herbs don’t set well with human folk,” Aeric said. “But the healers hereabout know what’s what. Nothing that will flat out kill ya, lady. Just make ya want to die.”
“Best to be aware, then. My thanks.” Warna smiled.
A bell rang in the courtyard, and the warriors all stood, taking a last bite, or a last drink. “Time to serve,” Aeric said as he rose, giving Warna a grin.
With that, they all filed out, leaving Warna in an empty room, nursing her mug of kav.
Well. It appeared that she was on her own. She rose from her bench, and went into the back. The serving lads and cooks were scrubbing dishes and pots. The looks of horror at her suggestion that she help them convinced her it would be better to move on.
Which left her free to explore. And maybe find a way to escape.
Not that she had a place to escape to, mind. But one thing at a time. She needed to know her way around.
She stepped outside slowly, waiting to see if there was any exclamation, or protest. But no one seemed to take more than a notice of her presence.
She stood in a large cobblestone courtyard, the barracks behind her. She hesitated, then settled on a bench beside the door to take a moment and stare.
The courtyard was huge, and it circled the keep, which rose in the center of the castle walls. The sight of it took her breath away, all smooth white marble, rising straight up. The lower part was solid stone, built to withstand a siege. Above soared tall, arched windows with colored glass panes. It seemed to her more like a cathedral than a castle.
The beauty did not stop there. The castle walls were white as well, fitted smooth stone, with hanging lanterns spaced along the walls. Various buildings were built into the walls as well, to serve the needs of the keep. The smaller buildings were also white marble with slate roofs. Even the stables, to her surprise.
There were warriors scattered about, some practicing their weapons, or drilling in the yard. Aeric seemed to be talking to a group carrying pole arms. Others stood guard on the walls. The barracks area felt very formal somehow. There was a farrier shoeing a horse, and sounds coming from the smithy, both buildings built up against the walls. But there was an odd feeling of order. A place for everything and everything in its place.
Which made her feel even more uncomfortable.
“Pardon me, miss.” Constable Ricard strolled up, looking quite aggrieved.
“Constable,” Warna said.
“Miss.” The constable looked like he thought she was out-of-place as well. “Miss, I’m not—”
“Constable, I’m a merchant’s daughter. I’m not expecting silks and lace,” Warna reassured him. “Tunic and trous are fine, for now.”
A relieved look passed over the man’s face. “If you’d come with me, then.”
He led her to a small door and ushered her inside.
The office they entered was crammed with shelves filled with scrolls, going as high as the ceiling with barely enough room to pass between. The constable had to shuffle around her to shut the door, so tight was the squeeze.
Two heads appeared, one younger, the other old and tired. After a quick glance the heads went back down over their work, even as the older one spoke. “Constable, what’s the need?”
“A new recruit, Quartermaster.” Ricard gave Warna a wink. “Need some gear.”
“Name?” The question was barked out impatiently.
Ricard gestured to Warna.
“Warna of Farentell,” Warna said, letting the constable have his fun. Sure enough, he grinned as the two heads popped back up, startled.
“Recruit?” sputtered the older man.
“Recruit?” Ricard laughed. “I said guest, sure enough. A guest of Lord Verice.”
There was a rustle of papers, and a wizened old man came around a corner, slipping between the shelves easily. Behind him, a lanky elf craned for a sight of her.
“A lovely one at that,” the older one said, and bowed. “Welcome, lady. I am Farnor, Quartermaster for the Army of Tassinic. How may I be of assistance?”
