Snow Fields - Book Two of The Fields of Mendhavai Trilogy

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

I’d been given the room on the top floor furthest from the stairs, to prevent the sounds of the inn keeping me up. The window looked to the east, so it was the bright early morning sunlight that woke me from a comfortable and much-needed slumber. I rolled over, turning my back to the window, loath to rise from the cozy down-stuffed mattress. Sighing sleepily, I pulled the soft wool blanket tighter around my shoulders.

Thoughts of the previous evening floated around in my head as I dozed for another candlemark. I’d explained to the people what Karol had told Torsten, Eve and I about The League modeling their monsters after the legends surrounding the Ancients, also known as the Quilbai. Several of the men, who had seen the tracks around the ravaged farms in the year leading up to that last battle, had nodded at my description. I had reassured everyone that the creatures that had attacked us had been under the magical coercion of the mages; they were not naturally so aggressive. As I’d told the tale, more and more Raldians had taken the babes from their anxious parents, cooing over the small feline faces. When I was done, all had seemed well and I’d retired.

I’d been exhausted and hadn’t been looking forward to another journey, especially to anywhere cold. Just thinking of the frigid winds of the pass we’d come through sent me, shivering, deeper into the blankets. Was it only yesterday? I sighed. At least I would have one day without cold between trips.

Starting to feel guilty about missing any time in the warmth the day would bring, I threw the blankets aside. Only a week or so ago, I’d been thinking how nice it would be, if only I could find the time, to get out of the heat and make my promised visit to Bashiir.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and the floor I stepped onto was already warmed by the sun streaming in the window. It seemed it would be a hot day, at least once we were on the other side of the sheltering trees of Aller Forest; Garli itself was not known as a warm port, even in the dog-days of summer.

Once I had dressed and packed my bags, I opened the door to the long hallway and heat wafted in, carrying the tempting aromas of flatcakes and sausage. I patted my stomach as it rumbled at the smells.

“Just leave your bags in your room, Lady, and I’ll take them down to the stable while you eat,” directed Trista, as she stepped out of another room carrying what I thought looked like Torsten’s bags.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling, and took the stairs two at a time down to the great room.

Torsten met me at the bottom step with a wide grin on his face. We’re heading back, right? he asked, holding out a hand to gallantly help me from the last stair.

I frowned sternly at him. I am. You’re going back to Navora to gather more of the Quilbai who seek healing.

But – I…, he trailed off when he saw my mischievous smirk.

I’m teasing, Tor. Yes, we’re going home, and yes you can see your lady and spend all the time you like with her. I hope you’ll stay while I’m gone.

Gone? Where are you going now? he asked, perplexed.

You remember Bashiir, I stated, his nod was unnecessary; who could forget the giant white beast? I promised him, after he saved our hides, that I would visit him in the Sani Isles.

Brrr, he shivered dramatically. Even this time of year I don’t think it will be pleasant there.

I shook my head in agreement as we seated ourselves at the same table we’d used last night, joining Corban who was already shoveling forkfuls of steaming sausage into his mouth. I saw Trista lugging more than an armful of gear across the room and out the door to the stableyard. ”Mornin’ m’Lady, m’Lord,” he said with a nod, around a mouthful. He seemed a bit more cheery this morning. He swallowed. “We’re headed back, aren’t we?”