Back from the MarshesIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | MarshendGameLogs | Back from the Marshes (Events continued from In the Marshes) Over the hill they went - and the the house of the retired Septa lay below them. Not a local woman, she had arrived in Marshend some half-dozen years before. Although devout, she had never spoken of her previous life - but all Marshenders agreed she had a remarkably fine way with herbs and healing. She was not young - although it was hard to give her an age between thirty and fifty. Lean she was, with a sharp dark eye, and greying hair worn under a twisted scarf. She was in the garden hoeing her plants when they came over the brow of the hill, and she straightened to watch their careful descent. "What's amiss?" she asked Keary as they approached at last. "Yon's your hunter friend, aye?" Catriona dreamed ... of thick forests with trees decked in snow. A crow soared high above the forest, its caw echoing across a frozen landscape. In the distance, the howl of a wolf answered, soon followed by another. A doe raised her tail in alarm, her foraging of the last remnants of grass stilled. A nearby stand of bushes belched a soft thwack, and the deer started to bound away. But she moved too late, an arrow plunging deep into her chest. Red and white intermingled in the snow, wisps of steam rising from the fresh blood pouring onto the bed of frozen flakes. The doe fell to her knees, still struggling to escape. Soft footsteps crunched in the snow, approaching the injured deer. Two forms, swathed in furs and leathers, approached, one tall, the other a smaller image of the larger. Both carried bows, one shorter than the other, although only the bearer of the longer bow still had an arrow in hand. The bigger figure rested a hand on the shoulder of the other. "Finish her, Tri." A set of emerald green eyes looked up into a pair of older green eyes, questioning for a moment. "She'll suffer if you don't." The head of the shorter one nodded, and unsheathed a knife. A deep breath later, the smaller stepped towards the wounded animal, which lay gasping on its side. As her death nearer, the doe lashed out with its hooves, trying ineffectually to rise and flee. The smaller hunter walked behind the deer, then reached out to slash its neck. As the doe succumbed to its fate, the larger figure stepped forward. "Our duty is to make the passing swift, however the end must come." "There's poison in her blood," said the Septa, laying the back of her hand to Catriona's brow. "You'd best bring her inside." She glanced at the direwolf. "Will the beast permit it?" Keir growled, deep in her throat. "Mist! Guard," Keary said. He held out a hand, palm down, towards Keir, and said, "it's all right, all right. It was a marsh eel," he said to the side. "One of the small ones." The Septa shook her head. "Large or small, there's venom in that bite. Well. Bring her inside." The cottage was a small one; two rooms, with a loft above, and stone flagged. The Septa must sleep above, for there was no bed in the small living room, but, clearly unwilling to navigate the feverish Catriona up the narrow wooden steps to the upper level, the Septa ordered them to set her down on a settle, then pointed at the dwarf. "You - go and fetch a bowl of water. You'll find bowls in the back, and a well in the garden. It's fed by a spring and will be good for her wound." Then she pointed at Keary. "You - go up and bring me bedding from the chest there." Then she settled, once the men were gone, to ripping the breeches away from Catriona's leg and examining the wound. She shoiok her head, then ;laid her hand to Catriona's forehead. "Can you hear me?" she asked quietly. "Can you tell me your name?" From within the fever dreams, Catriona heard a female voice break through the haze. "Momma? Is that you?" she croaked through parched lips as she struggled to rise. The hand that was stroking her brow stilled for a moment, and then the woman's voice spoke again. "No. My name is Septa Mariam. You are in my house. You have been poisoned by venom, but I shall make you well again. Do you understand?" Upstairs, Keary found the room under the eaves set out as neatly as the room below. There was a low bed, the chest the Septa had described, and a small box placed at the far end of the room, on which stood the signs of the Septa's faith. An offering of flowers had, somewhat unexpectedly, been placed before the image of the warrior; perhaps the Septa had a brother who was a soldier. The image seemed to be resting on some folded sheets of paper. Keary took a careful look around, including making sure that no one else was coming up the stairs; he opened the chest with a rattle, loud enough that it could be heard by the others, then did his best to lift up the image of the warrior and examine the papers beneath. He wasted no time on qualms. He did, however, memorize the spot so that he could replace the papers and the image exactly as he found them. He saw the edge of a letter, in a dark but flowing hand, written on yellow Southern paper. The language was strange - a cipher? And there was another ... unfinished, it appeared - or perhaps abandoned, because there were many crossings out. But Keary could still make out a few phrases: "But enough with pleasantries. You were never patient, and I would not test that limited patience now. I know you want to return. I read your note, and I cannot fault your heart or your courage. All I can do is beg you not to. You are still so young, even though you have seen so much, and I feel that the gods have not ordained this path for you. Your lot is greater, I think, than a nameless death in the snows." Catriona's eyes opened, and she stared at the Septa. Very slowly she nodded as her gaze darted uneasily around her. "Keir...where's Keir?" she rasped. Her eyes grew wide, and the contrast between the pallor of her face and the freckles across the bridge of her nose grew more striking. "Keir okay?" She tried to sit up, getting more agitated as she saw no sign of the wolf anywhere. "KEIR!" she yelled...or in what passed for a yell in her poisoned state. The effort triggered a series of retches, the first of which narrowly missed decorating the Septa's attire, and which rapidly subsided into dry heaves. The Septa seemed no whit discomposed by this. "Your direwolf is here," she said. "Just outside the door. "Would it comfort you to have him with you?" Catriona nodded as she lay back down. Davin was heard at this point, clattering back through the scullery and into the main room. "Set the water there," said the Septa, indication a place by the settle. "And then bring a cloth from the scullery - soak it in the water you'll find there in a pan painted with green roses - and use it to clean the floor here." She never lifted her eyes from Catriona's face. Davin, muttering, went back to the scullery. "Now," said Mariam, "I need to clean your wound - and then I shall make you a drink that will begin to purge your blood. Neither will be pleasant ... I need to know you won't fight me - or I shall have to have your companions hold you down - and the direwolf will stay outside a locked door." Catriona stared back at the Septa through bloodshot eyes. "Do it." She prepared herself for the worst. Keary blinked in suprise; obviously, the Septa had a story to tell. It involved someone going north... but the rest made no sense to him. Also, with Catriona's life at stake, it was not yet time to find out the mystery of the other letter. Keary replaced the papers where he had found them, exactly as he remembered, replaced the Warrior atop it, and quickly fished the blanket out of the chest. He strolled as casually as he could back down the stairs. The Septa was engaged in bathing Catriona's leg; she looked up sharply as Keary entered, but said nothing, gesturing to him to set the blankets down. Davin looked up from the floor - he was engaged in cleaning it. Keir was the far side of the settle, just within Catriona's reach. The Septa gestured to Keary to join her. "Hold her hands," she told him. "It's an ugly bite - and this is going to hurt her." She looked down at Catriona with compassion. "Are you ready?" Catriona turned her head to look towards Keir. "Aye." She shuddered and broke out into a cold sweat as another chill tore through her. Keary looked down at the bite, which was already swollen and purple; two ugly punctures were weeping red-tinged serum down the side of Catriona's leg almost as fast as the septa was cleaning them. He gave a quick, indrawn breath, then moved to immobilize her arms. The Septa began to clean the wound with calm efficiency. Perhaps she was attempting to spare Catriona pain - but certainly not at the expense of dealing as well as she could with the wound. Catriona grimaced a few times, but true to her word she did not fight the Septa. "I need a poultice," she said presently. "One with warmed salt, to draw the wound, and some herbs that with cleanse it. The poison is slow ... I can stop it moving into the rest of your body. But there will be some fever, I think. You'll need to stay here for a few days. Do you understand?" "Aye," Catriona replied with a tone of unhappy resignation. The Septa looked across at Keary. "You will care for her wolf?" Keary winced. "As much as she'll let me," he said. The wound washed, she said, "I'll prepare the poultice now. I shall need some herbs from the garden ... come with me." She was looking at Davin - and, with a sigh, he followed her out of the room, leaving Keary and Catriona together. Keary winced again, and leaned closer to Catriona. "Still with us?" She nodded, her chills temporarily at bay. "Thanks. I had visions of those eels tearing us to shreds...not this." She shrugged, her frustration evident. "This is the last thing we need with who knows who after you, and me." Her gaze flickered to the door through which the Septa and Davin had left. "You will let me know what's in that box, won't you?" There were actually various implements in the cottage that could be used to open the box. And, although it had largely been covered with a rug, it was surely only a matter of time before the Septa noticed what an unusual stretcher Catriona had been borne in on - if the sharp eyed Septa had not noticed already. "'Course I will," Keary said. His hands moved from Catriona's arms to her shoulders, still standing near her head. "As soon as I can get away from prying eyes. And as soon as we can get you moved, I will. Though someone obviously knows at least one of the hiding places..." "Thanks," Catriona replied. Her right hand dropped down, with fingertips extended towards Keir. After Keir came up and licked her hand, Catriona scratched the direwolf behind the ears. "And speaking of hiding places, the rest of my traveling gear is stashed in one of yours. Provided the fire didn't destroy that cellar and everything in it." She chuckled grimly as she motioned towards her injured leg. "Not that I'm going to be using it anytime soon, but I'd prefer not to have to replace all of it if I can." "Done," Keary said, moving over to pick up one or two of the most likely-looking implements. "As soon as I leave here, in fact... hmm. This is chisel-like... and this is hammer-like... what say we have a look?" "Sounds good." A fleeting grin flashed across Catriona's face. She did her best to prop herself up on her elbows for a better look at Keary's efforts. Keary spared a glance towards the door, then bent to try and force open the lock on the glowstone box. It was hard - it took all his effort to make the slightest impression on the smooth surface. But finally, he felt it give, just a little. "What are you doing?" said Septa Mariam from the doorway. Keary took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then turned around. "Finding out why we took this horrible risk in the first place," he said, aware that it was only partially a lie. Mariam advanced further into the room - and her eyes widened. "Is that glowstone?" she demanded. "So mush of it - that case alone must be priceless!" But, aware of her task, she moved towards Catriona. "Here, let me bathe you leg," she said. Then I can wrap it. Your friend has a drink for you too ... " Catriona dutifully relaxed back a little into a position from which the Septa had access to her leg, but from which the view of Keary's efforts with the glowstone box was still possible. Davin was indeed coming into the room, carefully carrying a steaming bowl. He carefully made a wide circuit around where Keary was working on the box and handed it to Catriona. Although the contents were very hot, the outside of the bowl was merely warm. The taste was fruity, masking a stronger undertone, it seemed. After swallowing some down, Catriona nodded her thanks. "I have strong needles that I use in my healing," Mariam. "You might be able to use them as small levers. Then I have knives too ... " Keary nodded his thanks, but kept stealing thoughtful glances at the Septa when he was sure she wasn't looking. Taking the other tools she offered, he applied them to the problem of the lock. "We can discuss the box," he said. "It should be quite a sum of money for each of us, don't you think? Enough to do whatever we want. But I am also concerned," he said, drawing out the leather pouch again for some additional tools, "with what is inside." "Each of us?" said the Septa, a little drily. "it's you who have clearly had the danger of the finding it. If you choose to reward me for my services, then I'll not gainsay you - you know I've helped you and your friends often enough when you've naught but a kiss to pay me with, Keary. But with something like this - I'll have ill luck if I took more than my due." There was a tight, constrained note in her voice that Davin must have missed, for he said with enthusiasm, "Most generous of you, Septa. Now ... we just need to get the thing open ... " He looked hopefully at Keary. Keary didn't miss the tone. He glanced back at the Septa, and said, "It will be all right, Mariam. We were never here. And when we leave, we'll fade like the morning mist. We'll be staying away from town for a while. I find myself forced to do something I haven't had to do in a long, long time... rebuild. I've become complacent. But I know where to go... you remember that Septa on the edge of the marshes, south of here." That Septa was, of course, himself, in his early days of smuggling. The box was yielding now ... the lock loosening ... and with an almost shocking suddenness it was open. Inside, it was lined with white silk which provided the clearest possible contrast to what lay within. A black sword ... or what had once been a black sword. For now the hilt was missing, and the blade was broken in three. Keary winced, picked up one section of the blade, and examined the pattern in the metal. "I never heard anything about this." Catriona pushed herself up on one elbow, and reached out a hand to touch another section of the blade. And very faintly, she heard again the song from the marshes. Curious, Catriona pushed that section of blade so that it would touch another. She then let her fingers cross between the pieces, to see if the song changed at all. It seemed to intensify - and she had the strangest sensation - it sounded pleased, like a stroked cat. "I wonder if there are any smiths still living skilled enough to reforge this." Septa Mariam was looking at it with wide, awed eyes. "Is that Valyrian steel? I have heard of such things .... but ... " Davin was looking uneasy. "Something like that," he said, "isn't just lost. Not without people wanting to find it. And as for such skilled Smiths ... maybe in King's Landing. But here? In the North?" "Keary," Catriona spoke up. "Do you think that strange writing we saw might shed any light on this?" As the Septa's gaze shifted elsewhere, the hunter inclined her head slightly towards Septa Mariam, and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She received a slight shrug in response. "Mariam," Keary asked, "how are you on reading old languages?" She hesitated, frowning. "I know a little," she admitted finally. "What do you wish me to read?" Catriona reluctantly lifted her hand from where it lay straddling two of the pieces of the broken blade. She fished into her pouch until she found the mailed man's tube of wood, then pulled it free. After uncorking it, she offered the strange letter to the Septa. "This, if you can." She then reached out her hand to touch the two sword pieces she had pushed together. Still feeling it thrum until her fingertips, she worried her lip for a moment, then said in a strained voice. "Keary?" As he looking towards her she continued, "Mind if I borrow that third bit of blade for a moment?" Her face flushed scarlet as she mumbled in explanation, "Maybe it's just that the fever's back but this sword feels alive. And I think it wants to be whole." "The song," Keary said. His expression was wonderous, and a little nervous. He handed the broken piece carefully over to Catriona. Catriona accepted the third fragment from Keary, and connected it to the others in its proper place. She allowed her hand to touch all three pieces of the blade once the sword was as whole as it could be without its hilt. Now she was aware of the yearning, of its need to be reunited again. And of the power it promised if it could be reforged. "A blade that sings," said the Septa. She sounded uneasy. "I would wish to be very sure before I re-made it." "I've looked for this thing a very long time," Keary responded. "And of all times that such a thing would be needed, it would be now." Catriona's gaze shifted upwards from the blade to Keary's face. "Imagine the song it would sing if it were whole again," she said, trace of wonder in her voice. She reluctantly pulled back her fingers from the three pieces of sword, and glanced at the Septa once more. "Does the scroll we found shed any light on this?" The Septa took it and looked at it - a slight frown - and then a deeper one. "Where did you find this?" she asked at last. "This is High Valyrian - I have knowledge of only a few words." "On a corpse not far from where we found the glowstone box," Catriona replied. "Do you know anyone trustworthy who might be able to translate High Valyrian?" The Septa looked troubled. "Perhaps." she said. "Someone ... is coming. He knows a little of the tongue. But I am not sure when he will arrive." If Keary guessed at a connection between the note and her words, he did not show it. "Who's coming?" She hesitated. "A ... a friend. From long ago." Her colour was raised - although she hid it a little by rising swiftly "I must put these clothes away now." She managed a smile at Catriona. "We have the worst of the poison - you should stay here for a few days, but then all should be well." A small sigh of frustration escaped Catriona, which was quickly followed by a slightly chagrined look as she caught sight of the Septa's raised eyebrow. "My apologies, Septa. I thank you much for the assistance, but the thought of idling here galls me." After a glance at her injured leg, she added ruefully, "Not that there's much I can do for now to indulge my wanderlust. I'll try to be good." After the Septa headed upstairs with her clothes in tow, Catriona glanced over towards Davin. Rather gruffly she added, "And my thanks to you for helping to cart me here. I'd say that I only trust you as far as I can toss you, but right now I can't toss you as far as I could before." She flashed the dwarf a fast grin. "So maybe, just maybe, now I trust you a little further than I can throw you." Keir chose that moment to snort. The Giant of Pentos swept a bow, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. "My thanks to my lady," he said - and then he glanced from Catriona to Keary. "What do you propose to do now?" It seemed a question addressed to them both. Catriona laughed softly. "Heal, I hope. And then see what help I can be at sorting all of this out." It was only then that something else occurred to her. "Davin," she said. "You and your troupe of entertainers traveled from the South. You didn't happen to hear any rumors about a search for a woman with a wolf, did you?" At the dwarf's curious look at her, then at Keir she added, "The description being bandied about the Lake by Southrons is too close for comfort. I prefer to be the hunter, not the hunted." "That's why, when I go, I want you to come with me," Keary said. "I have a place, a place to fall back to. A new identity." He smiled, a little, watching her. "A place to rest, to recover, to rebuild, to rectify certain iniquities. And make some quiet inquiries about this sword, of course... are you sure you don't want to be one of the new Seven? At the moment, you seem to fit Sloth very well..." Catriona attempted to affect a stern countenance, but was betrayed by the twitching of the corners of her mouth into a smile. "I hope to fill Sloth's shoes only for a short while before I am elevated to another vice...." "We were asked to look out for something," said Davin slowly, "and told there'd be gold if we found it. But ... we go our own way, we Giants of Pentos." The Septa looked up sharply, but said nothing. Catriona caught the Septa's motion out of the corner of her eye, but kept focused on Davin. In a deceptively distracted tone, she asked, "So, who was doing the asking? And how were you to get word back if you found it?" Davin shrugged his broad shoulders. "I could give you the names of tavern keepers, but they would mean nothing. Word had been passed to them ... and those who passed that word had been employed themselves. That means nothing. And I cannot given you the name of the one who lay behind it all. To tell you truth, lady, at that point I was not much interested. "But there's others that might be." "Wait," Keary said. "That's a very vague thing to say. What were you asked to look out for? This," and he nudged the broken blade, "or her?" Davin shot an apologetic look at Catriona. "The interest was in a lady with a wolf." He looked at Keir rurefully. "Never said nothing about a direwolf, mind you." Catriona scrutinized Davin's face as she awaited his answers to Keary's questions. It was only after he answered those that she added, "And did you happen to notice any of those 'others' who were more interested than you were in the hunt...or the gold?" In a soft yet steel-edged voice she added, "Or if any of those more enterprising folks either are or were here in Marshend?" Davin looked uncomfortable. "We weren't looking for trouble, lady. We ... we'd found enough of our own." "And what trouble had you found?" Catriona inquired softly. Keary just listened, eyebrow raised. He reached out a hand and snapped his fingers sharply to make Mist stop padding around the room and settle down. Davin sighed. "You remember Anniketta, who you were to accommodate at your inn? She had the misfortune to attract the attention of a Southron lord, who admired more than her tumbling." "Ah," Catriona replied. "And then what happened? Is your troupe actively being pursued, or are you just taking a strategic tour of the North?" Davin shrugged. "We hoped we'd out-run them. Anniketta is pretty and witty enough, but there are other women in Westeros. When the inn burned, we wondered ... " He shot a look at Keary. "Well. We're not the only ones with enemies, after all. And some of yours are doubtless closer." "I think," Keary said, "that you can rest easy on that, Giant of Westeros. Despite the coincidence." He frowned. "I don't know if it wouldn't be a good idea to lead the wolves away from here for the next few days. At least, until you can be moved. They're a dead giveaway." Catriona looked distinctly uneasy at the concept, but nodded reluctantly at the wisdom of Keary's suggestion. "Keir, to me." She stroked Keir's head for a moment, then gave her a scratch behind the ears. She put a hand under the direwolf's jaw, locking her eyes with the wolf's. "Guard Mist." She nodded her head towards the other wolf to reinforce her words. Keir let out a whine, but padded softly to stand behind her sister. "Not that Mist needs guarding," the hunter muttered, "but it's the only way Keir'll go in answer to my fool words." The Septa was watching with a certain relief. "How far will you take them?" she asked Keary. "My chickens will be relieved if they are out of sight - and probably the pig, too." She gave Catriona a rueful smile. "Although you, perhaps, will feel exposed ... " "Wish there was an easier way," Keary said. "There's a place farther north along the lake, an old barn. Don't know how I'm going to stop them hunting the marsh, though." He crossed his arms. "My part's easy after that- you won't have to help rebuild after all, Davin. Gabriel leaves tonight, makes his fortune elsewhere. People will find another place to drink besides the Song and Sheep. Keary ranges outward, and Mist decides to go along with him." He smiled. "I go south, and find the quiet and rewarding life of a Septon on the southern part of the marshes. I'll even hide Anniketta there, if she doesn't want to take her chances staying in town. I just wish things could be easier for you, Catriona. Just saying you went on your merry way isn't going to be believed, or kill that story. People won't stop searching until they-" He broke off, and stared at the huntress a long moment. The same weighing stare he had used, the first time they had met. "Mariam?" he asked, still looking at Catriona. "How many women have died in Marshend, the last few years?" The Septa stared at him. "No more than usual," she said at last. "Old Annis died of the ague last winter - Saranth was taken off in childbirth this spring - she fell to rthe childbed fever despite all I could do. And Tweedie ... that was two autumns back now - her heart. Keary, what is this?" Catriona kept silent for the moment, letting Keary finish his thoughts. She gently stroked Keir's head as she listened. "I was about to say," Keary said, "that the kind of man that would actually go hunting for a woman with a wolf, the kind of man that would do so for gold..." He gestured toward Davin, "not the people who merely keep their ears open, you understand, but the actual -hunters-... they won't stop with just a story. They'll want proof. Maybe, we can give them that." He moved closer to Catriona. "You were bit by a marsh eel, sure. You didn't make it. Oh, there was a valiant effort, but there was something else wrong with you. Something catching. I don't know. Plague, maybe... no, they'd burn this place down. Cholera, consumption... doesn't matter. Something they won't want to dig up your body for proof that you're dead. Takes some years for a body to properly rot down to the bones, right? So we find a recent one." He turned and smiled at the Septa. "There's our cover story. Then we come up with a right proper burial, in front of witnesses. First we dig up a body on the sly..." Keary seemed immune to the expressions of the people around him, "then sew it up in a bag with some, I don't know, pig guts or something, so it draws the bugs and the smell. Bury it, let Keir loose out in the marshes a few days, or maybe Mist, what does it matter? People will just say there's a wild direwolf north of here. Then, we quietly head south and start over. Find out who's going to pay for what's happened." The Septa was listening with increasing anger. "That's an evil plan." she said at last. "As bad as anything I ever heard in the Dreadfort!" "Which are you appealing to, Mariam?" Keary asked, blandly. "My sense of civic duty, or my respect for the gods?" "I like it," said Davin. "The Giants will help, if you want." Keary nodded, then looked back to Catriona to see what she thought of the idea. "You have to look at the larger picture," he said to the Septa. "Those other women are dead now- they can't be hurt any more. Wheras on the other hand, we have a live girl, under my protection, who's being hunted by someone who knows how to spread gold and rumors around. Why? I don't know, and right now, it doesn't matter. If they don't play fair, why should we?" He shrugged. "This isn't going to be settled on some tilting field, or by the King's Hand. I'm not some Lord with enough time on my hands to play at morality, or a Kingsguard brushing dust off my pretty armor. I'm a rogue. A charming, unusually handsome one, I'll grant you, but a rogue nonetheless. I see what needs to be done, and this is how to fix it. I can't afford to get squeamish- it'll get us all killed." The Septa too looked at Catriona, to see what her response would be. Catriona worried her lip, lost in thought as she mulled over Keary's words. "A corpse charred by fire found in the wrecked basement of the Song and Sheep would work as well." She shrugged her shoulders, then smiled apologetically at the Septa. "I suspect that I'll be dead if whoever these men are find me. I'd prefer to know who seeks me, and why, before I die." She coughed softly. "The godswood is more to my taste than your Seven, but from what I hear, your Stranger would likely endorse Keary's plan." The Septa gave a sudden laugh - which relaxed her face. "Yes," she said. "The Stranger likely would. And he would also tell me that as he has gathered all souls into his keeping for the longest of journeys, what need I concern myself with what becomes of the fleshly coat they've left behind." Then she grew more serious. "But I am a healer as well as a woman of faith - and it hurts me to see what was once a woman used in this way. But better that than you should be harmed and not know the cause of it." She looked at Keary. "How will you proceed?" "I like Catriona's suggestion," Keary said. "Tonight, we'll... procure... a body that's close to her dimensions. We'll set fire to it, then sneak it into the Song and Sheep. Let's just say I can manage that without too much trouble. I'll let the wolves run loose near that barn, and bring them back as soon as you think Catriona can manage a horse..." He looked at the ranger. "Or sooner, if all this is for naught and someone gets word of what's going on. On a litter, if we have to." "If it comes down to our needing a fast escape, just truss me up and strap me to the bloody horse," Catriona added grimly. "And you can either lead the horse, or have Keir and Mist chase it wherever you wish." "As long as there's room aboard for me," said Davin. "So ... when and how do we do our grave robbing?" Mariam winced. Keary shrugged. "Who looked the most like her? We can try the closest first, and the second closest as a backup... if they're in a graveyard, I'm thinking me and a couple of the Giants will be in and out quickly. If they're family plots, a little more difficult." It appeared that the two most likely candidates were both buried in single graves - a young woman who had died in childbirth, and one who had died as little more than a girl of the marshfever. Mariam said there would be a moon that night - it might be the best opportunity for their task. Keary agreed quickly with Davin, and mentioned a place they could meet once the moon had risen. "One or two of your people should be enough, I think," he said. "Ourselves, we've done enough lifting for today." Catriona, she added firmly, was far from well and should stay with her. As the grave robbers plotted, Catriona pushed a hand through her hair. The candlelight reflecting from one of her red strands caught her attention. She twirled the truss between her fingertips back and forth, muttering under her breath. With a heavy sigh, she cast her eyes skywards and murmured something more. "Septa? Davin?" As all heads turned towards her, she added, "Either of you have access to some black or brown dye?" While she awaited their answer, she pulled free the knife from her belt and started to shorten her hair. "Lucky these fire-touched locks may be, I'll be harder to find without them." "Ah no!" said Mariam, a catch in her voice. She recognised the sacrifice Catriona was making. But she rose to her feet. "I can distill a tincture of rosemary that will darken your hair," she said. "That should help - do not cut it too short! It's such beautiful hair." Hearing the sound of a knife, Keary looked over... and winced. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have said. Yes, Mariam, get your dye. I'll help to change your appearance, Catriona. I've... had a little practice. Keep your hair. If it helps any, those locks aren't the first thing that draw the eye, anyway..." He paused and smiled slightly. "No, come to think of it, saying that doesn't help the slightest bit." Catriona diverted her knife to cut her hair a bit less drastically than her original intention as she awaited the tincture. "Probably for the best that I don't try to get it too short all by myself anyway," she replied, her relief evident. "I'd probably succeed in chopping off part of my ear in the process. And that would be a little too permanent of a disguise, even for me." "We have tricks for disguising ourselves too," said Davin. "Though I've never made a convincing beautiful maiden, myself. I'd be interested to see the methods you use, Master Keary." Mariam had already gone to her small kitchen to start work on the tincture. (Events continued in Would You Make It Shallow, So I Can Feel the Rain - Keary, Davin and Evening in the Marshes - Catriona) |
