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Gripp straightened, dusting his hands. ‘I’ll have the servant bring wood and get this started. Oh, and the bath. I’ll send Pelk – she could scrub the stripes off a hyldra, and make you beg for more.’
Kellaras’s brows lifted. ‘Gripp, I have no—’
‘Abyss take us, captain, the woman’s bored half out of her mind. Be a mindful guest, will you? I’d be most obliged.’ Gripp strode to the door.
‘This Pelk – is she—’
‘Indulge me, Kellaras, I beg you. You’d thought this house quiet, here in winter’s hoary hold. But I tell you, as a man surrounded by women, I’ll appreciate even a night’s inattention, barring that from my wife.’
‘Ah. Very well, Gripp. We will see what comes of that.’
From the door, Gripp eyed him uncertainly. ‘The bath or my wife’s attention?’
Kellaras smiled. ‘The bath. In the other matter, I shall bear your shield.’
Gripp Galas nodded, in the manner of a man whose deepest fear has just been confirmed. A moment later the door closed behind him.
Freeing himself of his heavy woollen cloak, Kellaras walked to the lead-paned windows. The chamber overlooked the courtyard behind the house, where the snow was smeared with dirt on the cobbles, and woodchips made a path from a storehouse up to the servants’ entrance of the main building. He watched small dun-coloured birds hopping about on a heap of kitchen leavings.
A moment later he saw Gripp Galas appear, still in his thin, sodden shirt. Wood-splitting axe over one shoulder, he crossed the courtyard, heading for the timber shed.
A short while later there was a scratching at the door, and Kellaras turned away from the window in time to see a woman enter the chamber. She was in her middle years, short-haired, solid of build, and stood upright, straight-backed, as she studied the room.
Kellaras cleared his throat. ‘You must be Pelk.’
Flat eyes shifted to him and she nodded. ‘Apologies, sir. There’s some dust. The fire will do for the damp, but the bed needs airing, and drying heat. Gripp’s bringing some wood.’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘If you listen carefully, you can hear the axe.’
Pelk snorted. ‘He’d fell a hundred trees and rebuild this house from scratch, just to keep himself occupied. I’d wager he wears a smile right now, as the sp
linters fly.’
Kellaras cocked his head. ‘You are a veteran of the wars, Pelk.’
She had set about wiping down surfaces with a grey rag. ‘Those times are done,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Were you a Houseblade in Lady Hish Tulla’s company?’
‘For a time. Mostly, though, I trained her. Sword, spear, knife, and horse.’
‘I am sure I am not alone,’ ventured Kellaras, ‘in admiring your lady’s … comportment. The pride in her stance, I mean to say.’
She was now studying him in turn, revealing nothing.
He cleared his throat. ‘Forgive me, Pelk. My point is, I can now see from whom she took her guidance.’
After a moment, Pelk grunted and resumed cleaning.
‘There was mention of a bath.’
‘Water’s on the coals, sir.’
‘I take it that you will lead me to the chamber.’
‘We have to go outside and then back in, I’m afraid. A wing’s been closed off, you see. Locked up and sealed.’
Kellaras collected up his cloak again. ‘Tell me, Pelk, are there any other guests here at the moment?’
