Chapter Twenty-Three: Connections Old, Connections New.

35 6 3
                                    

In O'siaris, Katerin went door to door, greeting people and their children. Most of them she knew well enough, and they all knew her. The looks they gave her when she repeated herself were strange ones. Some looked as if they thought she was joking, some wanted to ask why. Most blinked, nodded, and shut their doors.

She wondered if the others were getting the same responses that she was.

O'siaris was not accustomed to having rules implemented at the drop of a hat. Usually there was a process and Graiden gave a speech. But Graiden insisted the curfew was a good move, and he was busy in Rastridge. No one out past midnight, and no one out in the morning till after sunrise.

Graiden had a dozen patrols watching the area surrounding the town, and even a few groups moving back and forth between O'siaris and Aughk'tor. The Dwarven stronghold was developing quickly, and Beymor had no desire for another war. So the dwarves and teal cloaked members of Sahn-Raidar patrolled their corner of the continent together.

It took Katerin all the morning and a good part of the afternoon to spread the word to her section of O'siaris and to the visitors from Ky'lei'mei. In that time, she collected a fresh loaf of bread, a new bar of herbal scented soap, and a half a dozen small charms and gifts from children. The people here were incredibly kind, and even though she could see by their faces that they did not like the idea of following an order that could hinder their working schedule, they obliged, once she explained.

An old, angry dragon was apparently incredibly persuasive. Even as she smiled and spoke to all the people, she felt anxious. Would it matter if they came home earlier and stayed in later, if Kryrial actually came here?

The answer was no.

O'siaris had Sahn-Raidar, sure, but right now it was a divided company, working to preserve their original home. They would fight, but if Kryrial decided his troops should burn O'siaris to ash, not much would stop them. Avris would, of course, be a hindrance, but Katerin would hate to see that. She had made a point of secrecy, and breaking it to fight against another dragon was about as good an idea as skunk-flower soap.

Making her way back toward the manor, Katerin veered, instead, and walked the main road. By the time she stopped, she was standing on the steps to the Hobbling Leper, and so in she went. She couldn't explain the feeling, but she needed to see the place. Needed to feel the warmth and comfort it had always offered. She needed the sense of familiarity, when the world felt as if it was spinning.

She took a seat at the bar, and watched as Harness was in his usual spot, cleaning mugs and lining them upon a shelf under the bar. Turning, she saw a much larger number of people then she had the first day she had come here. Mary bustled about, but so to did three other people. Two girls that looked in the later years of their adolescence, and a boy a bit younger, sweeping the floors, wiping tables and serving food.

Harness looked up from his work and blinked. "Lady Katerin!" He bowed, and Katerin blushed as the volume of his voice drew a dozen gazes to her back. "It's been too long! Can I get you a drink, or would you like some food?"

Katerin kept her shoulders straight, despite the urge to hunch. "You know, I think I'd just like some coffee." His reaction reminded her that since the manor had been finished, she only came to the tavern to meet Graiden or others, momentarily.

They had painted the back wall, the bar was newly oiled, and there were rugs where none had been before. Instead of the assortment of furniture, it seemed that the tables and chairs all matched, now. She made a note to come here more often. It would not do, to ignore a place she remembered so fondly.

She was surprised when it was Harness that poured her coffee, and pushed it to her across the polished bar top. "What brings you in?" he asked, still polishing yet another already clean mug. Things really had changed, if only slightly.

Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)Where stories live. Discover now