Nzarel: The Horned Forest: Chapter 6

Chapter ~ 6 ~ (6360)

“You coming lad, are do ya plan on dawdling the whole day away. We've got places to go, ya know!” Borden had his fists placed firmly on his hips, stamping one foot on the dusty ground. Lokir stood coolly nearby, picking his nails clean of dirt with the tip of his knife. His long red hair was in a braid down his back, and he was smirking quietly at Borden's antics.

“He'll come out when he's done. Remember that he's green. You knew this would happen when you brought him on. Or at least, you should have.”

Jame frowned, hearing them through cracks in the cabin's walls. It was old and abandoned, so they'd decided to rest there for the night. It was cold and uncomfortable, but certainly warmer than sleeping in a huddle beside the road would have been. Jame had held his tongue about the whole business, more than Borden had managed. If he wasn't complaining, he was snoring.

Loudly.

He buckled his belt, shaking himself like a dog to get his clothing and leather armor to hang right over his body, then nodded confidently. He stepped outside, grabbing his pack from beside the door as he did. “There. I'm ready now, Borden. You can quit your griping.”

“And you look lovely, lad. Now can we get going before we have to sleep in that lousy shack a second night in a row?” Lokir snorted, sliding his knife back in the scabbard within his boot, then kicked himself off from where he'd been leaning on the cabin's crumbling wall. He winked at Jame once Borden's back was turned. They had both decided that the Bear was going to take more than a scant amount of good nature to deal with, much less tolerate for however long this campaign would last.

Jame had been pleasantly surprised when Lokir first spoke with him. He was a quiet type, normally thinking hard before opening his mouth to say something, a stark contrast to Borden's habit of blurting whatever was on his mind at the moment. He had been wary of taking on a “greenie” to his team, but after finally managing to shut Borden's trap at the tavern, he turned out to be unexpectedly friendly. He still didn't speak much to anyone, but he was a better companion than Borden; perhaps because of his habitual silence.

“So how's the new armor fittin' on ya, lad?” called Borden over his broad shoulder. “Feelin' heavy yet?”

“Now, how could it feel heavy if I just put it on?”

“Oh, don't worry. It'll get there, just give it time. A day of walking in that stuff, and you'll be begging to have it off. For the first few days, at least.” Jame rolled his eyes, pantomiming throwing a rock at Borden's back.

Actually, the armor was incredibly light. Mercenaries had no reason to own metal armor. Leave that stuff to soldiers and knights who could expect to go in to battle with armed forces. His kind didn't have those things to worry about, but it would be plain stupid to go in to a job without protection. Leather armor was light enough to wear constantly without much notice, and was wearable beneath normal clothing. He hardly felt it. Given, he might be noticing the extra weight by the end of the day, but Borden still gave no credit to his endurance at all.

Then again, as much as Borden complained about things, it was a perfectly acceptable theory that when he'd first taken on the profession, he himself hadn't been able to hack it. Actually, that was probably the case.

When they found the road again, the three men instinctively found their formation. They walked on the side of the road, with Borden taking the lead, Lokir several paces behind and Jame just behind and to the side of Lokir. Somewhere along the line, it had been silently decided that Borden would be their leader. As childish as he could be at times, none of them argued with the decision. He was a seasoned fighter, used to this way of life. Likely much more used to it than his endless grumblings would let them think.

Of course, Lokir was also experienced. When he had coaxed a conversation out of the man, Jame had learned of some of his past jobs. Once upon a time, he'd been a soldier, but after his term of service was over, he had gone on to become a mercenary, taking on whichever jobs he found the most interesting. Like Jame, the idea of going off in to the Horned Forest had piqued his interest.

Though with Lokir, he could have been excited half to death, and he would never be able to tell. The man was as readable as blank paper.

“So, what exactly is the plan. We've been walking around long enough. Are we headed anywhere in particular. After all, I was under the impression that the Horned wasn't too far from the Rat's Grin in the first place.”

“Jame, lad, you've got a lot to learn. I understand that. But try and keep the green from leaking out your ears, hmm?” Borden's chuckling tone made it clear he wasn't completely serious, but the remark still made Jame's ears burn.

“An explanation would still be nice, Hashellu. I can't figure everything out on my own.”

“Alright, laddie. We're headed towards one of the towns built along the forest edge. A place called Cormaco. We'll rest there for a little bit, get the latest news, and make sure we're properly geared up for the bit. Then we'll depart and head in to the Horned Forest.”

“Cormaco… I ain't ever heard of it.”

“Well, it's a fairly small place.” Lokir's voice suddenly added to the conversation was a small shock. “And it's right alongside the edge, so it's not as though many head that way.”

“Any reason we're headed for this particular place, instead of the town closest to us?” He was talking specifically with Lokir now. Whenever he saw it fit to reply to a question, it was generally assumed that he was taking over the answering. Even Borden recognized this, though he grumbled about it along with everything else.

“Borden and I have some… friends there. We'll know better than most anyone on the job about what's been going on recently, and we'll be better equipped.”

Jame couldn't help but wonder about that, though he didn't dare question Lokir. He had been under the impression that they were prepared well enough. They had their armor, and some decent swords. Perhaps his hadn't been sharpened for some years, but a good run with a whetstone would fix that, easily enough. There certainly was no need to replace it. What else were they going to need, then?

He could think of nothing, so he stored it away to think of later when they reached Cormaco. While they trudged on, he thought about their detour. If their faith in the place was well placed, and heading so far out of their way before going in to the Horned would truly be beneficial to them, then it might be worth the added hassle and delay, but all he could think about was the fact that the rest of the men in that room had already started their hunt, several days ahead of his schedule. How much bounty had they already earned? He hoped this wouldn't be the reason he regretted signing up with these two.

Of course, he could just see it from their point. Assuming they knew exactly what they were doing, and this was the best idea in the barrel, it would be beyond annoying to have a greenie like him tagging along and doubting their every move. Verbally. He would withhold his judgment, then, until they made it to Cormaco, and then he would assess their position.

“Ah, this just ain't fair,” mumbled Borden, quite audibly. Jame considered not acknowledging him; Lokir certainly wouldn't. But the Bear would just continue on until he got someone's attention.

“What's that, Borden,” he said, a note of obligation in his tone of voice, as though he were supplying a line in a knock knock joke.

“We just started out, and I'm already hurtin'.” Oh, this was just too ironic.

“What, your armor? And after that hassle you gave me a bit ago about how heavy it would get for me? It can't be hurting already! That would be just sad.” He bit down on his fist, trying hard not to laugh at Borden's turned back. Ah, it oh so very tempting.

“No, lad. It ain't the bleedin' armor.”

“Well what, then? Did you sleep on a bur during the night?”

“No, ya dummy. My feet are achin'!” Even Lokir chuckled at that; Jame was in a positive fit, bending over at the waist, clutching his belly, and trying not to stumble to his knees while he walked. He didn't fall, but he staggered in a crooked line. Lokir had to grab at this shoulder to steady him until he got himself under control. At least they all seemed to be in good spirits, even Borden, who hadn't expected Jame to react so violently.

The road they were on passed through several villages. At each one, they bought some fresh food, putting off the time until they would have to survive on hard, dry travel rations and hard-earned meat. They would also find someone to give them directions. Jame thought this to be another worthless endeavor, but Borden and Lokir insisted, and still weren't too willing to accept the advice of a greenie.

More sacrifices, he supposed. To get respect and prestige, I'll have to deal with being the underpaid underling. I can deal with that.

He had been thinking about what sharing the price and glory with two others would mean to his goal here. Working in a team as opposed to solo meant a greater chance of success, but it also meant splitting the benefits three ways. How much respect would a kid of twenty years get when he clearly had the help of two older, seasoned men? Not much. If anything, they would be commended for doing well while having to deal with the hindrance that was Jame.

I could always ditch them after learning what I need to. He truly would be a dummy if he thought there weren't at least some things he didn't know. These two could teach him, or he could pick up the information by watching. Then he could go off on his own, and he wouldn't have to split anything with anyone. It would be poor thanks to them, but he hadn't gotten in to his business just so he could be respectful of his elders even more than he had to. He'd gotten enough of that experience growing up, hadn't he?

So there was one plan for the future.

Every now and then, Jame would glance up at the sun, marveling at how very slowly time could crawl while he was walking along. His feet were aching as well, a dull throb that flared each time his weight went on that foot. His heels were especially afflicted, and he'd find himself walking about on his toes without noticing he'd been doing it. Then he'd glance at Lokir, who of course would have noticed it, and then he'd blush and walk like a man again, ignoring the ache in his feet altogether. At least, until he found himself on his toes again.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he was also feeling the weight from the armor. It wasn't as bad as Borden (who had been groaning nearly nonstop about his “poor feet” since they'd left the last village) had made it out to be, but he didn't feel nearly as springy as he had that morning. Every move was slower, more laborious, and his shoulders burned faintly from the extra weight forced on them.

Jame was rolling his shoulders, trying to readjust the armor's placement, contemplating simply removing his tunic to get at the leather plates, when Borden held up a hand for them to stop. He nearly bumped in to Lokir, not noticing right away. He sighed, dropping his arms and giving his comfort up for lost. “Why are we stopping?”

“Shhh!” hissed Borden. Jame clamped his mouth shut, scanning the area around them. The road was quiet, and he noticed that the sun's snail's pace had finally managed to carry it in to late afternoon. The shadows were lengthening, cast by increasingly wooded terrain alongside the road. A road which he suddenly realized was becoming narrow and rocky. The land was becoming wilder, and he suspected civilization was becoming thinner. Perhaps Cormaco wouldn't be so far out of their way at all.

Jame relaxed, just in time for a faint boom to sound in the distance. He tensed up, forgetting his aches and pains instantly and getting ready for either fight or flight. There was silence, a breathless pause full of tension, then another boom sounded.

“What is that?” he whispered, working very hard to maintain control over his voice.

Borden turned around, a broad grin spreading on his grizzled face from ear to hairy ear. “That, lad, is our stop tonight. It seems they've seen us. I was hoping they would.”

* * * * * * * * *

Their stop turned out to be a small town with a suspicious amount of protection. There were disguised towers made to blend in completely with the trees, manned by guards with massive longbows and small bombs that could be used to barrage anyone unfriendly who came too close to the town.

The whole operation was surrounded by a heavy wall, built from upright logs, several layers deep. It was at least sixty feet tall, and two walkways were built in to the interior, one on top of the other with slats for more archers to be able to defend.

The booming noise, he was to find out, was made by the guards. They threw their handheld bombs up and out from their posts in the towers, then shot an arrow with practiced accuracy towards them, making them explode in mid-air. They had spotted Borden and Lokir out on the road from their hidden towers, and alerted them.

There was an almost invisible cart trail heading away from the main road towards the town, shrouded by weeds growing up to their knees or more. When the three of them arrived, the gate had been slung open and the guards had their bows unstrung, a sign of friendship. Some even waved down at them, shouting greetings at the two older men.

Jame, felt like a spare limb, hanging behind the seasoned pair, useless. Well, he wouldn't remain useless for long. As soon as the action started, he would prove his worth. Or he'd leave and earn it for himself. Either way, he didn't plan on remaining the odd one out for long.

As they entered, they were met by a woman in a long robe made from a rich, deep green fabric with almost no additional design. Her pale, graying hair was pinned up behind her head, leaving some locks to hang down her shoulders and back. She wore no kinds of ornamentation but a wooden comb in her hair, carved with a flowery design. Underneath the robe was a pale yellow dress, also without decoration.

Somehow, though, the woman's plain attire made her seem more dignified. Perhaps it was the cut of it all, but she seemed completely elegant. Jame had a suspicion that if she had dressed herself up as he'd seen others, she would have only managed to look silly. As she was, he was deeply tempted to drop to his knees straightaway, kneeling at her feet in reverence.

She opened her arms to them as they came near with a demure smile. “Ah, Borden Hashellu and John Lokir.” She pulled them in to a light embrace, kissing both men on their left cheek like a mother whose sons had returned to her. “It has been a long time, and I am most pleased to see you both again, as whole as you always were.” Mischief played across her face, making Jame think perhaps she had never considered them very `whole'. “And I see you bring a new recruit.” His ears burned ferociously as she turned her notice in his direction. “What would be your name, good sir?”

“Ja- Jame, madam. Jame Arender.” He bowed deeply at the waist, lowering his eyes.

“Jame Arender, welcome to Trima.” She pulled him close, kissing his left cheek as she had Borden and Lokir, then released him, much to his gratitude. His ears may well have caught on fire at the moment, along with the rest of his face. His skin tingled where she had touched him.

He was deeply under the impression that he had no right to be in good view of such company. The lady, however, seemed completely oblivious to his discomfort. “I am most pleased you have come to us here. I hope these two miscreants haven't given you much trouble, particularly our mutual friend Hashellu?”

“Oh, no, madam. Well, except perhaps Borden. Erm, Hashellu. He's made sure we haven't encountered any long periods of silence so far, that's for sure.”

She laughed softly, a sound like bells. It was a heavenly sound. He loved it. The people gathering around them also laughed, and he began to feel more confident. Whoever they were, whatever this place was, they were certainly familiar with his companions, and friendly with them. At least he wasn't at the business end of those arrows guarding the place. The archers wielding them looked as though they couldn't miss him if was a league away and running.

“Now, it is getting late.” He glanced quickly at the sky. It was certainly late in the afternoon, but it wasn't exactly late in the day, really. “I want to show you three to your quarters for the night, and then I do hope you all will join me for dinner tonight after you become settled.”

“Get settled for what, my dear?” chuckled Borden. “We're only staying the night, I'm afraid.” His tone was incredibly casual. Jame couldn't imagine speaking to her in such a manner. She just didn't seem the type. But she gave Borden an equally informal exchange.

“Well, you will want to get out of your armor, of course, and perhaps get yourselves in to a hot bath, something which, judging by the food stores y'all are carrying, you won't be seeing much of in the days to come. Where are you going, anyways?”

Lokir spoke up now, startling Jame as he always did when he broke his usual silence. “That is something which will have to wait for dinner, I'm afraid,” he said, winking one blue eye. The lady seemed to gather a hidden message in that, and nodded knowingly.

“Very well, I await dinner eagerly, then. In the meantime, come with me. I will show you to the rooms you will be using for tonight.” She turned neatly on her toes, her robe whirling about her ankles, and walked away, leaving them to make up their minds as to whether or not they would follow her. They followed her.

As they walked through the town's narrow street, Jame noticed that the people there were watching him with intense interest. Men and woman looked on with curiosity that nearly made their eyes bulge from their heads. He noticed something else, as well. The people here all had a similar kind of facial structure, fine-boned with angled features. They were all built fairly slight, Borden towering over them in comparison. Even he was taller than many of them.

They also all wore their hair long, sometimes nearly obscuring part of their faces. That, or they wore hoods that served the same purpose. He looked to Lokir for answers, and then Borden, but neither seemed perturbed at all, so he suffered his confusion in silence.

They headed in to the middle of town. The whole place was small enough to take a morning's walk straight across, and the perimeter could only have been a few miles, but the people here seemed intent on fitting as many as they could. The buildings were situated closely together, leaving just enough room for a broad, central lane, off of which branched many side streets just big enough for a cart. Many of the buildings were more than one story high, and some were as high as the wall around them.

Jame had only seen buildings so tall in large cities like Lyon, especially where the wealthy lived and enjoyed displaying their riches. The idea of these kinds of dwellings in a small town hidden away in woodlands felt out of place for him. He began to wonder which of the houses would be theirs for the night to come. If this lady was providing them, and if she was the leader of the town, then they could be assumed to be fairly grand. Especially when compared to the roadside shack he'd woken up in that morning.

That was another thing, now that he came to think of it. How was it that a female was in charge of this place? He supposed her husband could be the one in charge, and it was simply her job to meet important travelers, or he was too busy for them, but she radiated so much dignity, he couldn't fully imagine her being subordinate to anyone, even, or perhaps especially, a husband.

“Hey Lokir,” he whispered, not wanting to gain attention from their lovely guide.

“Aye, Jame?” The man wasn't even whispering, and his voice was softer.

“Where are we going, anyways?”

He pointed to the lady. “Her House.” Something about the way he said “house” made it clear that it was no lower case word. Somehow, you could always make that distinction from a person's voice. So it was to be somewhere grand. Strangely, that didn't make him calmer.

“Who is she, anyways?”

“Her name is Kailenna Dorsett of Trima. Lovely sort, isn't she?”

Jame nodded in awe. “I've never seen anyone like her.”

“Well, I'm betting you wouldn't. You seem the type to run in conservative circles, or at least to have grown up in them. You wouldn't have met many like her at all.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is—Well, I guess you'll have to wait until we reach our rooms for me to explain it all to you. I'd rather not have your jaw dragging out on the dirty road, and right where everyone can see it.” He chuckled, an almost inaudible sound he could mostly see by watching his broad shoulders shaking mirthfully. Jame frowned inwardly, but his face didn't reflect it. It was caught in a permanent expression of awe and confusion.

Unlike Borden, Lokir rarely underestimated him, at least not so grossly. If he expected that kind of reaction out of him, that meant something big. What could be so interesting about this town that he'd have his mouth hanging slack?

He realized that he wanted to reach their rooms very quickly.

When Kailenna's home came in to view, there was no mistaking it. It was neither the tallest nor fanciest building they'd passed, but it had the same simple grandeur she possessed. It had two floors, and for the most part looked to be fairly squat. The exterior walls were made from stone, fit together as closely as brick but without the uniformity of size or shape.

If anything was to be considered ornamented, it would be the front doors. Delicate designs had been carved in to the double door, depicting everything from hunt to harvest to banquet. Somewhere in there, Jame was sure, was something showing every part of the lives of the people in Trima. From a distance, the whole thing just seemed hopelessly gnarled, but when he was close enough to see all the detail, he was astounded.

Kailenna swung them inwards, her robes swirling again as she turned around to welcome them in to her home. Jame couldn't help but frown when he noticed that even Lokir hadn't bothered to get the door for her. But it would have seemed ridiculous for him to rush from the back of their procession (it truly did feel as though they were one) to kiss up to the lady. So he let his senses grate as she opened her door for them.

He forgot all thoughts of etiquette when he saw the entrance to her House. The whole room was built from warm, stained wood and lit by two cheerful fireplaces. The furniture was as simple as the rest of what he'd seen of Kailenna's belongings, and just as rich. For some reason, the rug in particular caught his interest. The design on it, interweaving vines in green, red, blue, and brown, was impossibly intricate, and he couldn't help but describe it simply as exotic, a word he didn't use for many things. It fit though. The rug was simple and quiet, but it was exotic.

She led them towards the back of the room, down a short hallway, and through another room (a dining hall?) towards a staircase. The whole time, she moved through her domain with grace. She nearly floated above the floor, her robe and dress fluttering around her feet. She led them through a hallway or two, though the whole place was so mazelike, Jame felt lost in moments. Then she stopped suddenly, holding up a hand. For the second time that day, Jame nearly crashed in to Lokir as he came to an abrupt halt just in front of him.

“These shall be your rooms, gentlemen,” Kailenna said graciously, motioning to three doors, one across the hall from the other two. “You may choose for yourselves who will sleep in which one, though there isn't much difference between them. Make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be served in two hours' time. You can spend that washing up, if you'd like. Simply call up a bath from one of the servants. You'll be summoned for dinner. Any questions?”

She seemed to direct the inquiry at Jame, since Borden and Lokir seemed to know perfectly well what was going on. He shook his head silently.

“Alright, then. I'll leave you three to your business, then. Until dinner,” she bowed her head, and left them where they stood. Jame turned to the door closest to him, and when no one yelled at him for going choosing the wrong one, he pushed it opened and entered the room.

Compared with the rest of the House, he was almost disappointed with the room. It was simple, but didn't have the absolute elegance the public rooms of the House had. But it was promised to be warm, and there was a bed. He certainly wasn't going to start complaining about a soft, warm bed, no matter how plain its appearance.

The whole room was made of solid wood, unstained, but sanded down to be smooth. In the center of the room was a round table with two chairs beside it. He dropped his pack on one of the two chairs, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the ache in them. The bed was large enough for him to sprawl out on, with simple, woven blankets in shades of red and gold. Beside it was a fireplace, which held some glowing embers. They kept the room warm, but emitted very little light. Instead, the room was lit by sconces along the walls holding magelight.

He hadn't seen such things in a long time, as magelight was something of a commodity unless you could create it on your own. The light was soft, but the sconces were hung all around the room, giving off a soft, ambient white light. That was one thing he did remember of these things; they were normally white. Only a skilled mage could control the color of the light given off, so the default was as pure white as sunlight, though much less harsh.

Kailenna had mentioned ordering a bath, and suddenly, that seemed like a wonderful idea. First thing was first, however. First went his boots, and his feet thanked him heartily. He then slid his tunic off, actually feeling the dirt that had accumulated in the fibers, and laid it across the table. Then, thank the heavens, he could remove his armor. He unhooked and untied the individual pieces, sighing with relief as each bit of extraneous weight was literally lifted from his shoulders.

He arranged his armor neatly on top of his tunic, just to keep them straight, and put his boots together beside one of the table legs. Then he slumped thoroughly in his chair, wearing only his shirt, breeches, and stocking feet. It wasn't exactly the image of himself he would have liked to have while in such an important place, but frankly, he didn't care.

He did decide he would postpone his talk with Lokir. He had a perfect opportunity for some peace, quiet, and solitude. He planned on taking it.

* * * * * * * * *

A knock sounded on the door, pulling Jame from his drowsiness. He hadn't even realized he'd been drifting off to sleep. He pulled himself upright in the chair, running a hand through his hair, still slightly damp.

“Yes? Who's there?”

“Milady wishes me to tell you that your dinner will be ready shortly, and you should go down to the dining hall. Is there anything you'll be needing?” The man's voice was muffled through the door, but he could hear him well enough to tell that he must be fairly old.

“No, no. I'm fine, thank you. I'll be ready soon.” He sighed, deciding it must be time to get dressed.

After calling up his bath, he'd first washed his clothes as best he could, trying to at least get the primary layers of dirt out of them, and wishing the whole time he'd brought spares. Then again, this had hardly been a circumstance he'd considered worth planning for.

After his clothes got a good wash and were hung up to dry beside the stoked fire, he'd taken his turn in the tub. And Lord, hot water had never felt so good. He'd soaked for a good long time, just reveling in the feel of his skin turning pink from heat. Then he washed, scrubbing himself well to be rid of all traces of dirt, dust, sweat, and whatever else had taken up residence on his skin since he last bathed.

The servant who had brought up the bathwater had placed a folded towel beside the tub, and he dried himself quickly. After checking his clothes, he found his breeches to be the driest, so he put those on and spent the remnant of his time resting half-naked with his feet kicked up on the other chair. .

After the second servant summoned him to dinner, he got up from his chair with a regretful sigh, glad that his muscles were used the kind of torture he' been putting them through. At least, they were tolerant enough to not hinder his movement. He still considered them to be pretty sore.

His slid in to his shirt and tunic once more, grimacing as the damp cloth settled on his skin. It felt heavy and clammy, but if nothing else, it wasn't filthy. He considered leaving his sword and scabbard on his belt, but thought better of it, securing it around his hips. He was accustomed to it feeling lop-sided, a great weight hanging from his left side, but now it just settled evenly in to place. The lack of that sturdy, familiar weight made him feel uncomfortable, but he ignored the sensation. He was going to be getting his fill of discomfort tonight, he was sure. This small thing wouldn't make a difference in the long run.

When he went out in to the hallway, he nearly ran in to Borden. He didn't fail to notice that he hadn't bothered washing up much at all, just wiping the grime off of his face and hands, and maybe dipping his head in to a basin of water. He wondered if he was the only one among the three of them who cared what kind of company they were among here.

Or perhaps, he thought dejectedly, I'm the only one green enough to care.

“Well, it looks like you groomed yourself out well for this, lad.”

Jame smiled sheepishly. “I figured it went without saying.” Borden chuckled, clapping him on the back.

“You're rather taken by Miss Dorsett, aren't you, boy?” Again, Jame could only manage to look sheepish. It was actually a little disgusting, the way he was acting. He gave himself a good shake, trying to knock it out of his system. It didn't escape Borden's notice. “Ha! What are you, boy, a dog? Come on, lad. Time to go fill ourselves up until we have to be rolled up those stairs.”

He slung a friendly arm around Jame's shoulders and steered him through the twisting hallways of the upper story towards the stairs. Jame couldn't help but notice that Borden really was much bigger than him. His arm was heavy on him, much more so than his armor was. Even his hand did a fair bit to dwarf him. It occurred to him again that despite whatever sharing he would have to do with him and Lokir, it could very well be worth it, particularly if they were used to this kind of job.

As he came down the stairs, he realized two things. One, was that the room he had passed earlier certainly had been the dining hall. The second was that it had been transformed completely.

The wide banquet table was covered with a deep, violet-brown cloth with golden designs that shined in the light like woven metal. The dishes laid out were made from polished bronze inlaid with copper, aged to a mint green hue. Then there was the food itself.

The smells wafted up to him, and he nearly began drooling right then and there. There was spiced meat, fresh vegetables, and, strongest of all, hot bread. He had no doubt that the meal would be, as was everything else, simple and wholesome. But that didn't mean it wouldn't be some of the best food he'd had in months, if not in years.

Candles had been placed abundantly along the length of the table, and sconces with torches and magelight lined the walls. Even a chandelier of small bits of candles hung from the ceiling. The whole room glowed, and each piece of cutlery, each plate and goblet, caught the light on its engraved designs and glittered from it. The whole sight and smell of it was astounding.

Borden continued leading him when he stopped thinking about going forward. Twice he nearly stumbled going down the stairs, before he snapped back to his senses. It wasn't as though he hadn't been to nice meals as a guest. His family had had several important friends while he was growing up, important friends who expected his father to bring his family to dine with them. But those encounters had been about showing off their wealth and prestige. Kailenna's House had none of that air, but twice the grandeur of any formal meal he'd seen.

Lokir was standing at the foot of the stairs, hands clasped in front of him. “I was wondering when the two of you would be coming down,” he mused. “And I suppose it's a good thing you came together. Someone needed to show Borden the way back in here.” At first, Jame wasn't sure if he'd heard him correctly, but a quick wink assured him that it was another joke. Borden clapped Lokir on the back of his head, then went to stand beside him. Jame looked from them, to the table, then back to them.

“We don't sit down?” Normally, the guests would sit, and when the host entered, they would simply stand up and wait for him to be seated. They didn't wait about to find their seats.

“No, lad, you dolt.” Borden was speaking to him as though he were a small boy. A small, clueless boy. Which, he admitted, he was in this setting. It still grated at his patience. “We wait until Kailenna comes in. Then we sit down. For now, we are standing.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out for myself.” He may be a greenie, but he wasn't ten. He surveyed the table again, trying to figure out where he ought to sit. Obviously, the seat at the head of the table would be Kailenna's. Then he supposed the two beside her would be for Borden and Lokir. Then he would sit further down, there.

There was a fifth place set out, though. He frowned thoughtfully, considering it. Who else would be joining them? Did the lady have a husband after all, who would be taking the seat at the head? But then, she should have been placed at the other end of the table, shouldn't she? But there was no seat there at all. Maybe just to his side. He shook his head, confused. He would find out soon enough, anyways, who their other dining companion would be.

They stood there awkwardly for a bit, and Jame spent most of the time wondering if there was going to be anymore conversation, or just more silence, but that question answered itself too easily. He rocked nervously on his heels, earning a warning glance and a sharp shake of the head from Borden. He felt like a little kid again, waiting for the grownups to do something interesting so he wouldn't be so incredibly bored. Luckily, the grownups didn't take much longer.