The Luna Cycle: Book One

Part One: Chapter Five

                                                                         ~*~

The sun was once again shining in the kitchen of Wanderer's House, and the company was much the same as the day before. Lighs was once again out in the city proper, making final arrangements for a few much-needed imports, and his presence was replaced by his old friend Nels.

Nels helped to chop vegetables for the evening meal, while Bensa and Diaen cleaned a large bird of its feathers. It was a busy day at the inn. The Meeting of the House in the evening would most likely culminate in most of the members attending the inn for supper. Thus, a large meal was in order.

Diaen was lost in thought, idly brushing feathers from her face, thinking of the note Desdon left for her. She hadn't been able to speak to him, or to his other companions, since the night before. Chresta was as absent from the kitchen as she had been the previous night, but Malich and Desdon were peeling potatoes from a large sack near the fireplace. She glanced at Desdon, who appeared as lost in his thoughts as she was. She watched him for a few more moments, until his eyes flicked up and met hers. His knife slipped, and with a sharp intake of breathe, his finger welled with blood.

"Clumsy..." he muttered, wrapping his finger in his shirt fabric.

Diaen jumped on the chance. "Here, let me clean that for you, come with me." She exited the room without looking to see if Desdon followed. She made her way to the bathroom near the back of the storage area and began to look for some clean scraps of cloth set aside for medicinal purposes. She grabbed a few nice size strips, and looked up to see Desdon joining her. She handed him the bandages and began to look through the jars of ointments and salves that Starla had gifted Bensa with.

"Our herbalist and physician is very talented, I'm sure there's something here that will keep that from festering--Ah! Here." She pulled a small, blue jar out of the cabinet and placed a small amount of the ointment on a piece of fabric. She turned to Desdon to apply it to his finger, and found him standing there with an envelope held out to her. She took the envelope, set it on the edge of the sink, and began winding the anointed fabric strip around Desdon's injured finger.

"Those papers are extremely sensitive. I wouldn't be giving them to you if I had the choice of giving them to your father." He waited long enough for Diaen nod. "I don't know how much, if anything, he has communicated to you about Dosmerind, but these pages I am giving you relay the final details to... ‘plans’ I gave Solan decades ago." He searched her face for signs of recognition. "Has he ever told you anything, or given you anything, of importance about Dosmerind?"

Diaen shook her head, secured a final bandage, and then spoke, "I have only recently received a collection of letters from him. Horam delivered them to me only days ago. It was apparently my father's plan, to hold them for me until I was... I'm not sure, I suppose until I was ready. In it, my father tells me of something he hid for me. I have not yet had the courage to retrieve it."

Desdon's nod was terse, "Before you read these documents, find what your father left for you. And then we may discuss it, privately, if you wish."

Diaen acquiesed, and gestured out the door that led back to the kitchen.

“One last thing, Diaen. There are those in many parts of this world who would harm you for simply knowing those details, or to know them for themselves. You must be careful with the knowledge." A solemn nod from Diaen was all Desdon needed to know that she understood.

They returned together and finished preparing the night's meal. Diaen excused herself about a half hour before the meeting, and deposited the envelope in the hidden room in her father's office.