The Septa's HouseIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | MarshendGameLogs | The Septa's House (Events continued from Evening in the Marshes - Catriona and On the Way to Marshend: Riding Hard) "Hello," Niko said. Not loudly, but loud enough in the still night. "We mean no harm, just to help. And seek help." Catriona snorted derisively. "The last batch claimed they needed healing, too. Then when we opened the door, they tried to force their way in, hiding behind a poor fat peddler who served as their unwilling shield." "Why should we trust your intentions, nameless one?" she challenged. "You are a stranger here, and we've little trust for strangers this night." Niko frowned, for what she said made sense, and it frustrated his intentions. "We came to seek healing because we were set upon by bandits on the way here," he said, adding, "Much like that one." He motioned towards the hapless man on the tree. "Our Septa was pierced with an arrow, and lies sore hurt," he continued. The frustration he felt bled into his words, and his speech suffered for it. "She does not let on that her injury is bad, but to this one it is obvious." He shook his head sadly, a movement accompanied by the faint tinkling of bells. "We heard a scream, and came to help," he said. "But if you are not in need of it, we will move on, if you will just tell us where we can find the Septa in this village." Mariam moved forward to clutch at Catriona's arm. "Ask them where they're from, and their Septa's name," she said in a low voice. "And why she was on the road at all." "No - don't," said the minstrel hastily. "Let them pass - they'll ride on and leave us alone!" Mariam turned to glare at him. "If she is injured!" Catriona gave Mariam a nod, then spoke. "Our thanks to you for your willingness to help persons unknown. Not all travelers are as kind." Her memory harkened her back to the first night she met Keary that long year ago, and the interrupted vigil over the dying man. "There is a Septon in Marshend, 'tis true. Though I've not seen him have much success with healing, he's well versed in death." "From where do you hail? And this injured Septa of yours, has she a name?" She paused, then added as if in afterthought, "And come to think of it, it's right odd for a Septa to travel away from her stead in the first place. Why was she traveling?" While she spoke, she allowed her bow's angle to drop down so that bow and arrow were at waist level. An inexperienced archer might think she no longer aimed at a threat. An astute observer might note that her nocked arrow was now at an angle that just happened to aim towards the ministrel. Mariam noticed, and gave a slight start. But she said nothing as the waited for the visitor's reply. Niko thought for a moment. They had wanted to arrive in relative secrecy, though with the story spreading from Clearwater, he had never been under the illusion that the story wouldn't follow them. But did he have the right to tell? "Clearwater," he said, his voice cracking with youth and tension. "Clearwater," he repeated again, his voice clearer now that his mind had been made up. They needed that septa! "And her name is Septa Aloise." he finished. "As to why she is travelling, that story is not mine to tell, other than her charge perished, the Lady Draupaud. And because of this, she left. To move to Marshend." Catriona was watching the Septa closely. Mariam nodded vigorously as the stranger mentioned the name Aloise in association with Clearwater. "The Septa," he asked in return, his voice earnest. "Can you tell us how to find him? Our cause is urgent, as this one fears that she grows weak." "Aye, that I can, though you'll find the Septon less useful than another," Catriona replied. "A retired Septa by the name of Mariam lives here. She is quite skilled in healing. I've been guarding her this night." She continued, seemingly focused on the strangers outside the window, but was well aware of the ministrel from the corner of her eye. "Before we open the door, though, there is one more thing for you to know." The hunter's grip tightened on her bow as she spoke, although she did not shift it from waist level...or from its current target. "A minstrel arrived here earlier to warn us of the bandits. He was invaluable in helping us against them. He seems to think that you might wish to kill him," she added in a dry tone. "I don't know why. But the ministrel accepted guest-right in exchange for his cooperation, and I cannot allow harm to come to him while he is a guest of the Septa's." Niko's brow furrowed at the change of topic. But he kept silent, waiting for the woman to finish. Catriona paused, then added, "I know not your quarrel with this ministrel, but I ask that you honor the Septa's sanctuary while he is a guest. If you can accept that, we will open the door. If you can't, we will give you directions to the Septon's." "Lantern," he said as he remembered. "He was with the bandits when last I saw him," Niko said, louder. "But my charge is the Septa, not vengeance. As long as he stays out of our way, we hold him in less regard than her life." As if to underscore that, he slung his shield on his back. "Though you may wish to watch him- I am not sure if he had some part in our troubles, but if he did, he may have had a part in yours, no matter how 'helpful' he appeared." With that he waited for the door to open patiently, though inside he was anything but. Mariam looked at Catriona, and then said, "I could go with him, to see how ill she really is - or we could have him bring her here. What do you think, sister?" She laid stress on the last word. The minstrel looked surprised. "She's a Septa? I wouldn't have thought ... " "Even Septas have lives before they take their vows," said Mariam sharply. "And she is my sister ... my half-sister indeed." That amendment, Catriona might guess, allowed for the discrepancy in their appearances. "Aye, our father took a younger wife - my mother -- after Mariam's mother died," Catriona replied. As she spoke, she replaced her arrow in its quiver, and set her still strung bow to one side within arm's reach. She readjusted her sword in its scabbard. She glanced up to the stairs to the loft, from where Callon peeked. Catriona slid an upright finger to her lips, then motioned that Callon should remain out of sight upstairs. "Tomkins, or Lantern, or whatever your name of the hour is, open the door, please. And light a few candles if you will." As the door opened, Catriona looked over to the entrance, and gave the braided youth in the doorway a nod of welcome. "I am Catriona, this is my sister Mariam, and I think you already know the ministrel." She motioned to each in turn. In return, Niko motioned his companions forward. "I am Nikomedes Sakellaris," he said with the pride of youth in his voice. After a pause, he added, "or just Niko." Turning to hide a flush of embarrassment, he added, "And these are my companions- Tyek and Eron." He cleared his throat as he looked back to the woman. "Thank you for your welcome," he said, inclining his head also. Closer, she could see that his dress was a bit strange for these parts, being unarmored on his legs, wearing sandals. Catriona's gaze shifted to look at the Septa. "As for the injured Septa, do you have a poultice to help prevent festering or a brew to ease pain that you might be able to offer, Mariam? The hour is late, and even in broad daylight you aren't the best of riders, dear sister." "I can do that," said the Septa. "I'll prepare something for her now." As Catriona spoke, she sat down upon a long cloth-covered bench, and stretched out her bandaged leg in front of her. "If Septa Aloise is too badly injured, even if we rode out now, you'd likely arrive too late to help, Mariam. And you'd also be limited in what you can do there," she continued. "Here, you have all of your herbs and other supplies. And what you don't have inside these walls, you have in your garden." She shrugged her shoulders. "There, who knows?" Mariam nodded. "Yes," she said slowly. "That does make sense to me." "If she's not yet beyond reach of your skills, these men can likely get your healing draughts to her much faster riding back alone tonight. If her pain is eased, it's likely that her transport here can be quickened," Catriona reasoned. "And you can spend the time preparing for her arrival, so that you will be ready to do what you can once she is here." Though initially apprehensive of her suggestions, Niko could see that they made sense. He found that he liked her way- she seemed to reason better than most of the women he had met. Catriona addressed the strange men, observing what she could of them as she did so. "Have you a wagon or cart for your Septa? If not, we can send for one of the farmers to ride out to pick her up." "Thank you for the offer," Niko replied, "but she rides in her own wagon. They are only a little behind us, and we should be able to make it here tomorrow, especially if you can give us something to ease her pain and stave off infection. One of her students has tended to her, but what he could do was limited." "Let me see what I can give you to ease her journey," said the Septa, and she turned and hurried into the kitchen. Lantern, who had lit the candles as instructed, followed her. He seemed eager - perhaps understandably - to keep as much distance as he could between him and the party from Clearwater. "If you want to sit while you wait," Catriona motioned to some chairs, "feel free." All three continued to stand. "Thank you for the offer, but I think that the urgency of the situation would not allow us to sit." Catriona studied the three in silence for a moment. The older two -- Tyek and Eron -- had the look of hardened Northmen. Her gaze finally settled upon the youngest of the three. "Niko, is it? Your name alone marks you from elsewhere." A friendly smile creased her face, wrinkling her freckles. "You haven't been in the North long enough to experience a winter snow, have you? Wear those," she indicated his sandals, "in winter here, and you're apt to be missing toes come spring thaw." He looked down, a bit self-consciously, then back up at the woman. "I have experienced your snows- I just prefer the sandals when I can get away with it. I am a runner, and do not like to have my stride impeded." She inclined her head towards the kitchen. "The minstrel of many names there called you something when you first approached - Duth-ruk-ee? What's that?" He smiled at the appelation she gave Lantern. "Dothraki," he corrected gently. "And no, I am not a Dothraki, though I rode with them for a while. They are a fierce people that live across the Narrow sea, and though they are harsh, this one found their life to be more honest than one in the confines of 'civilization' for a while." Though his phrasing was mostly Westerosi in nature, there was still the trace of an accent in his voice- the lilt of the Free Cities. "But in the end, this one did not belong among them," he said with some trace of regret. "Those brigands hurt any of your friends other than the Septa?" she inquired. "The one outside told some tale about a girl and a Shadowcat." "Two of our number were killed in their initial attack," Niko responded. "And my headstrong student- the girl you speak of- wrenched her shoulder attempting to fend off one of her kidnappers." He nodded in agreement about the latter part of her statement. "She does indeed somehow travel with an untamed shadowcat. It is her companion, and did not take well to her being taken, as they found." He shook his head, the bells tinkling as he did so. "And all this because of mistaken identity." "Niko," Tyek broke in. "Perhaps we should await the Septa's potion outside. After all, this cottage is not overlarge, and we don't want to intrude on their hospitality." Niko looked around. "It seems rather..." he paused as he saw the look on Tyek's face. Though not conveying anything specific, it seemed that he did want to get outside. "Ah," Niko continued. "I see your point." He turned back to Catriona. "And this one is sorry for not seeing this before. It is late, and it has been a rather eventful day. We will just step outside, and wait for whatever the Septa can provide. Thank you for all of your help- and take what I said to heart. I do not know the part of the minstrel in this- but I do know that I do not trust him." There was a sudden banging sound from upstairs, as though someone had slipped and fallen. "Callon?" Catriona called. "Come downstairs." She motioned towards the figure descending from the loft. "The ministrel's companion who was a prisoner of the bandits. From their tale I doubt you've met yet." Niko looked at her in surprise, holding his hand up to Tyek and Eron to stop as they headed for the door. "Prisoner?" he asked. "Aye," Catriona replied. "Apparently both of them were captured by the brigands. The minstrel says he was compelled to help the brigands, or else they'd kill Callon. The minstrel managed to free Callon when the bandits' ambush went awry." The hunter shrugged her shoulders. "If you want to know more, you'll have to ask Callon or the minstrel. I only got the short version of their story." At this moment, Callon came down the last few stairs, pale-faced and nervous. "S... Septa?" he stammmered. "Lady? Where's Minstrel?" He shrank back when he saw the armed men, and turned as though to flee upstairs again. "Callon?" Niko asked. "'Lantern' did not tell us he had a companion, though I suppose that I know why," he finished. "Would you mind joining us- telling us a bit about your ordeal?" he queried encouragingly. "It's OK, Callon. The Septa and the minstrel are in the kitchen, preparing some poultices and teas," Catriona added. Her soothing tone was the same she used to calm frightened animals. "No one is going to harm you. These men are here to get aid for their friend, a Septa hurt by the same men who hurt you." The boy nodded nervously, but came down fully into the room, looking at the armed men. "Is she going with them?" he asked Catriona. "No, she's going to stay here," Catriona replied. "Niko, Eron, and Tyek," she motioned to each in turn, "are going to take some draughts to make the injured woman more comfortable, and then transport her here so that Mariam can tend her better." In the soothing tone she had used earlier, Catriona added, "Did you hurt yourself when you slipped upstairs, Callon?" Niko watched the interchange in silence, a benign but intent expression on his face as he took note of the lad and the way that the woman handled him. Callon nodded, still hanging back warily. "You're not going to hurt Minstrel?" he asked Niko suddenly. "They made him go into your camp - they said they would kill me!" Niko shook his head. "I might question the way he handled it, but I think I can understand a bit better, now." He nodded to the lad, then to Catriona. "Thank you - for everything. We will leave you alone now, as we have no wish to intrude on your hospitality." He made ready to go, adding,"We shall be outside when the Septa finishes." The boy glanced at Catriona - as though to ask her if she thought it was really safe ... The boy's skittish nature reminded Catriona of the last untamed pup she had trained, and she had a fleeting impulse to offer Callon a strip of venison jerky. Unlike with Keir, however, she doubted that food would be as effective in building trust between them. Catriona gave Callon a reassuring nod, then motioned towards the kitchen. "Callon? Why don't you check to see how the preparations are going?" He gave a swift nod and hurried away into the kitchen. Her gaze then shifted to Niko. "You're welcome, although it's really Mariam who deserves your thanks." Her countenance grew slightly grimmer as her gaze fell upon the foot of one of the dead bandits lying just outside the house. "By the time you return with Septa Aloise we will have cleaned up the mess outside." Her mouth tightened as she added. "Unless more brigands come knocking before then." She then forced a laugh. "Although if that happens, I will strongly suggest to my sister that she find another house for her retirement." Catriona shifted her weight and rose up to stand, favoring her injured leg. She extended her hand to Niko. "Safe and swift travels to you." He grasped her forearm wordlessly in the manner of the legions across the seas. Then nodding a swift farewell, he left with his companions. Once they were outside in the night, Niko followed Tyek and Eron away from the house. "What was so urgent?" he asked. "Just didn't feel comfortable in there," Tyek replied, looking to make sure noone was in range. "What? What do you mean by that? We found help for the Septa- that was our goal! And the potions will help her travel more quickly... I do not see what there is to feel uncomfortable about!" "Niko," Tyek said placatingly, still keeping his voice low. "Listen for a moment." Niko was silent, listening, looking at Eron also to gauge his reactions. "We come to an outlying village, there is a scream *just* as we pass by the cottage. A 'bandit' that we would surely recognize from the clothes is tied up arrows in him. The minstrel that scouted for them before is present. We happen to find a Septa that can help our injured." Niko merely nodded as he went along. "How likely is that? One, or two of them, maybe. But that's four coincidences. And add to the fact that that woman gave little information- but that to make us put our guard down around the minstrel. Other than that, she merely fished," Tyek said in explanation. "Fished?" Niko asked, confused. "She asked you questions, and you answered. About our injured. About where we were going- what we were doing," Tyek said. "But what were *they* doing? Do you recognize that bandit? The man, not the clothes." Niko grudgingly shook his head. "So what if he was the owner of the cottage?" "But the boy," Niko replied. "He was truly scared." "What if he was scared of the minstrel and the woman?" "No," Niko replied. "He seemed soothed by the woman. And I got nothing from her but sincerity. Though this one is not the greatest judge of intent, he does know a little on the subject." Tyek nodded. "Ok. I hope you're right. It was just our place to point these things out." Niko nodded in return, his youthful face still a little doubtful. "And thank you," he replied, turning once again to face the door as they waited on the Septa's potions... Catriona did not have long to wait, for Mariam emerged from the kitchen with a small pack. "Here it is," she said, and then looked around worriedly. "Where are they?" "Waiting outside." Catriona motioned towards the front door. "I invited them to sit, but they declined." Mariam nodded. "Ill take this to them then, she said, opened the door and stepped outside. The minstrel came out of the kitchen, Callon following behind him. "Have they gone?" he asked. "Mariam is outside giving them the supplies," Catriona replied. "Then they'll be off, I imagine." She gestured towards the window. "If you're really worried, you can always check up on them." "Go, Callon," said the minstrel. The boy needed no second telling but shot away up the stairs. The hunter reached over to where her bow rested against the wall. She unstrung it, wound the bowstring around her wrist for safekeeping, then set the bow back against the wall again. She then stretched both of her legs out in front of the cloth-covered bench, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back against the wall. "Are you planning on staying, or are you traveling onwards tonight?" she asked bluntly. The door opened and the Septa came out - not a comfortable middle aged woman, such as the woman at Clearwater, but a woman in the prime of her life, perhaps in her mid to later thirties. She was carrying a small pack which she held out towards Niko. "There's a poultice there which should be warmed by the fire before you apply it," she said. "And I've made some packets of herbs that should be infused in boiling water - they'll help her sleep and bring down any fever." Niko bowed, taking the pack from the Septa. "Warm the poultice and infuse herbs in boiling water," he repeated, looking to her for confirmation that he had the instructions correct. Once he did, he smiled, thankful that their journey was not for naught. "Thank you for all of your help," Niko responded, his expression a little less severe than normal. "Hopefully, with this, we will be back within the day," he added. Hearing the horses, he knew that Tyek and Eron were bringing them forth for them to leave. Turning towards his companions, he took his horse's reins from Eron, securing the pack, then mounting easily. "Words can not truly say how thankful we are, but they are all that I have," Niko said, bowing again in the saddle. "Thank you," he said again, sincerely, and waved as they galloped off into the night back towards their party from Clearwater. (Niko's thread is continued in On the Way To Marshend: At the Camp) "Will your sister give us room?" asked the minstrel. "Far be it from me to suggest you are in any way inadequate to defend youselves - but you really should rest that leg of yours." "You sound like my sister." Catriona replied, a wry grin creasing her tired face. "For that remark alone, she'll probably offer you space." As she was answering, the front door swung open. The Septa stepped back inside to the tune hoofbeats fading into the distance. "Mariam?" Catriona inquired. "In exchange for some help cleaning up the mess left by the bandits, do you think we can spare some room for Minstrel and Callon?" She indicated her injury. "Ordinarily I'd pitch in myself, but as everyone," she said with a roll of her eyes towards the minstrel, "tells me, I should rest my leg." Mariam smiled wearily at the minstrel. "Indeed, I'd be grateful," she said warmly. "And Catriona - you're not to move from the settle again tonight. In fact, I shall make up a posset to help you sleep." "As you command," Catriona replied solemnly as she shuffled from the low bench to the settle. "Once I'm settled, that is." "I'll dig a grave for those we killed," said the minstrel. "Callon can help. Callon!" The boy appeared at the top of the stairs. "What?" "We'll be staying here tonight, but we must earn our keep first," said Callon. "Come with me to bury the brigands we killed. You can bear the torch." "If any of the arrows are salvageable, please save them," Catriona interjected. Callon was looking a little pale, but nodded. Mariam went with them briefly to light the torch and show them where she kept the spade they would need, but she soon came back. The thoughtful look she shot at Catriona suggested she had seen the corpse bound to the tree. "What happened?" she asked quietly. Catriona ran her fingers through her rosemary-darkened hair and sighed. "The one against the tree was dying from his gut shot," she answered in a low voice. "He wasn't keen to talk without pressure against his wounds." A sour taste filled her mouth as she recalled the questioning. Mariam winced and looked away. With clenched jaw, the hunter continued. "These brigands were part of a group of bandits led by someone named Black Roger. They tried to capture a girl with a shadowcat, one of Niko's companions." "Apparently there are others seeking the same quarry. The bandit mentioned a meeting that his leader had attended before the hunt began." A sigh of frustration escaped her. "If he knew more, I know not. We heard hoofbeats pounding towards us, and I told the minstrel to bring the bandit with us. He didn't." The hunter focused her gaze on the front door, ensuring that the minstrel and Callon were still outside. She cocked her head slightly, and grew still until she heard the sound of shoveling. She then looked directly at Mariam. "I think they were looking for another." Her right index finger tapped her own chest. Her fingers tightened into fists. "And the murky waters now churned with blood, yet the fogs still hid the players." Her cryptic comment came out in a soft singsong, as if she chanted something remembered. She forced herself to inhale deeply, then relax her tightened muscles. Catriona gave the Septa a wan smile. "My apologies, dear sister. For all of your unexpected guests." "You're forgiven," said Mariam. "Aren't sisters always forgiven?" Her own smile was warm. "Thank you," Catriona replied with a smile of relief. The sound of the shovel striking the ground could still be heard outside. Catriona's eyes checked the door once more, then she added softly, "And Callon is not what she seems." "Ah," said Mariam. "You noticed that too, did you? Have you thought about any reasons for the disguise? Or perhaps she told you in the kitchen when we were seeing to Fat Jack." "There wasn't enough time for me to coax it out of her," Catriona answered quietly. "I'm not sure if the minstrel is party to the deception, or the cause of it." Now that the tension from the last fight was starting to fade from her muscles, the hunter realized just how exhausted she was. She rubbed her sore leg for a moment, then let herself collapse back upon the settle. "That posset's probably a good idea, just in case...tho' I'm not sure I'll still be awake when it's ready." Mariam laughed, and then came to feel Catriona's forehead. "No fever. But the posset will do you good if you can stay awake long enough." She made sure that Catriona was settled comfortably and then went off to the kitchen ... With a yawn, Catriona let her head fall back against the pillow. She wondered where Keir hunted this night, and if she was safe. The rhythmic sound of shoveling, punctuated by an occassional murmur of a voice, started to lull her to sleep. As her eyes drifted shut, an image seared itself into her mind. Of a broken sword in three pieces. A sword that lay in a barely concealed glowstone box in a house that had seen considerably more visitors than earlier expected. A house that was likely to see even more on the morrow. She shifted, trying to ignore thoughts of the sword. But then overlying the sound of the shoveling from outside came the voice of the blasted minstrel. His song sounded remarkably like that of the sword's song. She pulled the pillow over her head to block out the music. All that accomplished was to intensify the sword's song in her mind, and triggered an image of Keary. With an exasperated sigh, Catriona sat up again. She swung her legs over the side of the settle, then inched down to the edge that lay closest to the cloth-covered bench. She grabbed a discarded towel, its crusting of blood a testimony to its earlier use in cleaning out her poisoned eel bite, and spread it open on the settle beside her. She paused to listen for a moment. The shoveling and singing persisted from outside, and the front door was still solidly shut. She pulled the cloth away, revealing the bench's true nature as the glowstone box. She flipped the lid open to pull out the sword fragments, which she then laid upon the towel. She soon had the glowstone box closed, locked, and concealed by its covering cloth once more. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled her own sword from its scabbard, then slid the sword fragments into her scabbard. She stashed the scabbard between the settle and the wall, then wrapped her sword in the dirty towel. She set it beside the scabbard, and also moved her bow and quiver to that side of the settle as well. As she lay back down upon the settle, she could still hear the sound of shoveling from outside, although the pace of it had slowed considerably. The singing had been replaced by the faint murmur of the ministrel and Callon in conversation. The kitchen door swung open, and Mariam marched in with Catriona's posset in hand. Her sharp eye quickly discerned that Catriona had done more than just toss and turn in efforts to fall asleep. At the Septa's inquisitive stare, Catriona murmured, "I made quite a mess of my sheets, sister." She shifted her gaze to the concealed box, then back at Mariam. "Would you help me get settled again?" She accepted the posset gratefully, and sipped it while Mariam adjusted the cloth on the box and the sheets around her. As Mariam was finishing, the door opened and the minstrel and Callon walked in. The minstrel nodded to Catriona, and then said, "Could my boy bed down in here? I'll take the hayloft, and gladly, but he ... he has something of a cough. I'd prefer him to be indoors." "Fine by me," Catriona replied. "As long as Callon doesn't mind some floor space, Mariam has blankets and pillows aplenty. I should know." She gestured at the pile that now swaddled her. She smiled. "And this is the right place to come if he has a cough. I'm sure Mariam has a posset that can help take the edge from it." She raised her mug in salute to the Septa, then took a healthy swallow. As she lowered her mug, her eyes met those of the ministrel. "Thanks again for your help with the brigands. Both earlier, and in the cleanup." "Think nothing of it," said the minstrel. "I owed them ... for using me, and Callon. And putting him in danger." His voice was suddenly grim - almost ruthless. Then he smiled again - and his face was that of the easily charming minstrel. "And now, I'll leave you all to get what rest you can." He nodded and turned to go - just as Mariam returned with another armful of blankets. The change in the ministrel's demeanor when speaking of the danger to Callon set Catriona's course. "Ministrel, I'm sure that one of the blankets Mariam carries is for you." As the minstrel and Callon were busy accepting the linens from Mariam, Catriona added very casually, "Was the disguise your idea or the minstrel's, Callon? It's very good, lass, but you've been lucky so far." Her eyes scanned Callon's clothes, noting that while they were well-worn, they fit reasonably well and lacked evidence of frenzied rips. What she could see of Callon's skin also lacked signs of recent bruising. "If those bandits had seen through your cover, promises to your minstrel be damned, they would have ridden you until you broke." She held Callon's gaze for a moment, then shot a piercing glare at the ministrel. Callon's lower lip trembled, and she shot a frightened glance at the minstrel. She nodded towards the sword on the ministrel's hip. "And while you can wield that blade enough to kill someone offguard, by your stance and grip I can tell you're no warrior. If your brigands hadn't been distracted, I doubt you would have been able to break Callon free before they discovered her secret." The edge to her voice hardened. "Those bandits were the least of the scum crawling through the North. The sellswords are swarming. I've even heard rumors that the Bloody Mummers are about." She kept silent her knowledge that the brigands who revealed that to her eavesdropping were now feeding the denizens of the Ghost Fens. An eerie howl sounded in the distance, soon answered by a second. "There are also beasts other than men that stalk their prey...." "You have already tasted the dangers that lurk for two unprepared travelers in the North." With a harsh laugh, she added, "Alone, without protection, I doubt you two will fare as well the next time." Callon was shaking, her eyes wide with fear. But the minstrel stood calm and still, a little smile on his lips. She paused, struggling to regain control of the anger that had surged within her at the bloody fool of a ministrel, putting a young woman at risk for who knows what. She forced herself to take a few slow deep breaths before continuing. "Tell us what you can, of who you are and what you seek, and we can help you get there more safely." She deliberately studied her nails for a moment. "Or tell us nothing, and on the morrow we'll wish you well. We'll keep Callon's secret, and with a fool's fortune, perhaps you'll evade disaster. Without luck..." Her teeth bared in a feral smile. "I'll avenge your deaths after the next batch of sellswords tear you to pieces." "Well," said the minstrel, "now, I'd take that as a kindness. But really, all you see is here before you. A poor and humble minstrel and a girl he rescued from a life in the stews of King's Landing. It's my intention to settle in some town here in the North, and then I'll travel and sing and teach, with Callie stays home and keeps the hearth warm. And by and by we'll be married if she's agreeable - or if I'm too worn and old by then, she can find another mate. "And that's our tale. Now ... you might know of a likely town that would hold a place for us. I'd heard of Clearwater on the Long Lake - that was where we were making for, indeed." Catriona studied the minstrel and Callon in silence for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Her tone was measured when she finally spoke. "Treat her well, minstrel. Life is harsh, and trust is too easily shattered." Finally she smiled, easing the tension in her face. "Aye, Clearwater's a decent enough town, and is a better choice for a minstrel than a small village like Marshend." She eased back a little further into the blankets on the settle. "I wouldn't advise settling any further north than Clearwater, though, at least not if Callon's going to be home while you travel." She noted the ministrel's raised eyebrow. "Too likely to be raided. By Wildlings," she added tersely. "If you want someplace bigger than Clearwater, Deepwood Motte's a thought. You'd definitely want an escort through the Wolfswood, though," she continued. "And of course there's always Winterfell, but you probably already saw that on your way north." Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. "I doubt the Dreadfort has interest in another minstrel, unless you have offkey tunes aplenty about flaying. Karhold might suit you better, if you wanted to head east." She nodded at the ministrel. "But if a town close to the Kingsroad, near water, is what you want, Clearwater's a good choice. Those lads who were here seeking help for their Septa could probably tell you more about it." Catriona looked over towards Mariam. "I'm sure we can help arrange an escort to get you safely there, if Clearwater's your choice. Plenty of trade goes back and forth from Marshend." Mariam nodded, a little doubtfully. A thought of Davin popped into mind. "And for what it's worth, there is a troupe of entertainers who arrived in town not too long ago. I don't recall where they were heading, but I'd bet they'd be willing to take in some extra hands for the road." She chuckled softly. "They call themselves the Giants of Pentos, but their ringmaster is anything but large in form." "The Giants of Pentos?" said the minstrel slowly. "I believe ... I may have heard of them. They, then, might be our solution ... " He smiled at Catriona and then Mariam, before taking his blanket. "Well, goodnifght sweet ladies all. UIntil tomorrow." And he prepared to depart for the hayloft. "Good night, minstrel," Catriona replied. As the door shut, she allowed herself to collapse back into her pile of blankets on the settle. After stifling a yawn, she spoke up. "Mariam and Callon, unless there's something more that you wish to discuss, I think sleep beckons me as well." Images of the day's events flashed into mind -- the fire, Yuanna's body, the men in the marsh, the killing cold, the eels, and then the bandit attack. "It's been a very long day." It was easy to drift off to sleep, for the posset had been potent, and Callon and Mariam moved quietly so as not to disturb her. And Catriona slept deeply ... So deeply that feeling something sliding under her pillow might almost have been part of her dreams ... Catriona had been dreaming of running in the forest with Keir. The sensation of something moving under her upright head made no sense. She suddenly realized that the motion wasn't in her dream, but in reality. She came awake suddenly, her eyes snapping open. She twisted upwards, one hand lashing out to pin whatever it was sliding beneath her pillow, and the other grabbing for her knife. "Ow ... ow!" It was a wail of pain - a female voice. Too high-pitched to be Mariam - it was Callon, and Catriona was grasping hard at her lower arm. "Explain yourself!" Catriona growled, her grip still tight on Callon's arm. "You're a hairsbreadth away from becoming my new knife sheath." "I wanted ... I wanted to put it somewhere safe!" Callon gasped, and Catriona saw that her hand was clenched, as though she was holding something tightly. Catriona slipped her knife back into its sheath and released her hold on Callon's arm. "Lass, you could have just woken me up and asked for my help." She smiled apologetically, her teeth glinting in the dim moonlight from outside. "It's been a day to keep me on edge even in the depths of sleep." With a gentler tone, she motioned to Callon's arm. "I hope I didn't give you a bruise." The hunter shifted her position on the settle so that the girl could sit beside her if she chose. Callon sat down, a little tentatively, so that she could flee at need. "I'll guard your keepsake for you as long as you wish," Catriona nodded towards the object clutched in Callon's hand. "It's up to you if you tell me what it is. If you don't want me to see it, wrap it in some cloth, and I'll protect it sight unseen until the time you tell me you want it back." Her tone was matter-of-fact, with no hint of deception. Callon hesitated - and then thrust her folded hand under the pillow. A second later she withdrew it, empty, and gave a tremulous smile at Catriona. She studied the girl's silhouette in silence for a moment, then added softly. "Is the minstrel's tale true? Is traveling with him your choice?" Callon hesitated, and then said, "Not ... exactly. I ... I wanted to stay in Kings Landing. But ... they said it wasn't safe. The people who looked after me." Catriona nodded, a somber expression on her face. "Do you know why it wasn't safe, Callon? If you need my protection, I need to know as much as you're willing to tell me." She glanced out the window towards the direction of the barn. "And is the ministrel treating you well? Do you need to be shielded from him?" As she said the last, she looked back at the girl, her tone and expression slightly softer. "No," said Callon, and then she shook her head vigorously. "Oh no - he's protected me more times than you can imagine! He is quick and resourceful when he needs to be. And he can fight too ... but he says the wise man lets others do his fighting for him." She looked shyly at Catriona. "I grew up in King's Landing ... I was born just after the Sack. I never knew my parents ... they died then. Blind Cessie brought me up, in her brothel. But she didn't want me to become a wh0re." "Blind Cessie must have cared for you quite a bit," Catriona replied. "To want you to have a better life than what fate dealt her." She motioned towards the object hidden under the pillow. "Do you want me to guard that for you just for the night, or beyond? If it's longer than just the night, I may have to move it someplace else eventually." She grinned as she whispered, "Every once in a while, my wicked half-sister forces me to clean the sheets." Callon grinned back at her. "Just for tonight," she said. "I've got to take it with me to Clearwater, Minstrel said. It's important ... I have to give it to someone there." "As you wish," Catriona replied. "So, anything else you need or want to discuss tonight? Else I think we both could use what sleep we can get...." That sounds good," agreed Callon with a grin, and she slipped away to her own improvised bed, her treasure hidden under Catriona's pillow ... It was the sun that woke Catriona the next morning, shining in bright through a chink in the shutters. The posset must, in the end, have proved exceptionally strong. She could hear the sound of movement in the kitchen, and then heard a humming - Mariam, it seemed. There was no sign of Callon in the room - and her blankets had been taken away. Catriona stretched and looked around for a moment, checking to see that her scabbard, sword, quiver, and bow were still in the same place as she had left them. She then sat up, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. "Morning, Mariam," she called out. "Callon and the minstrel around somewhere?" Remembering her charge from last night, she scooted a hand under the pillow to feel if Callon's whatever-it-was was still safe and sound. The hard object, wrapped in cloth, was still there. Catriona withdrew her hand, keeping Callon's keepsake safely hidden beneath the pillow. "They walked to the farm," said Mariam. "They've gone to get some milk and cheese - we'll be needing more with the Septa and her party coming today. How are you feeling?" "Thanks to your posset, much better rested than yesterday," Catriona replied. She stood up, testing how her injured leg felt as she walked over to the kitchen doorway. "Anything special you want me to do to treat the eel bite today?" she inquired. "Or anything I can do to help prepare for the onslaught of newcomers?" Her leg felt sore, but there was no heat in the wound. She might not run a race for a few days, nor trek many mles, but she would be able to move around today with tolerable ease - if limping. "You can sit at the table by the window and break your fast with some oatmeal," said Mariam, holding out a steaming bowl towards her. "And warn me when our visitors are coming." Catriona accepted the bowl from Mariam with a smile. "Gladly." She manuevered herself over to the table, trying to limp as little as possible so that Mariam would not feel compelled to chase her with another posset so soon after she woke up. She set the bowl down, then seated herself in the chair to keep watch out the window. She poured some honey over the oatmeal, then started to mix it with her spoon. "I'd wait until the milk arrived, but I'm starving." She ate a spoonful of oatmeal, then nodded her satisfaction to Mariam. "Hits the spot." "Do you want me to move my things from the front room to make room for the Clearwater Septa?" Catriona inquired. A hopeful look creased her face. "Or do you think I'm ready to be released from your tender minstrations?" She kept watch out of the corner of her eye for any sign of the minstrel and Callon's return, or of the approach of other visitors. "All things being equal, I'd prefer for you to stay a few days here," said the Septa. She moved from the kitchen to stand beside Catriona, looking out over the garden to the meadow beyond. "They're a long time getting the milk." Catriona had a few more bites of oatmeal as she studied the scene outside, looking for any sign of the ministrel or Callon's return. "Either they'll be back soon, or something is amiss." She shrugged her shoulders. "If it's more trouble with bandits, we can defend ourselves better here. And if they decided to up and leave, well..." she motioned to her leg, "I could hunt them down but that would go against Septa's orders." The Septa managed a smile. "I'd prefer you didn't," she agreed. "And I don't want to go, for our visitors might arrive at any time." She sighed. "It's not as though they had anything of value to leave behind or take with them so we might know if they meant to go ... " Catriona looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled reassuringly. "If Callon has anything to say about the matter, they'll be back." Mariam shot her a thoughtful look. "You know something?" she asked. Catriona finished swallowing her current spoonful of oatmeal while contemplating her response. "Yes." She stared out the window, wondering why she felt this bizarre obligation to a girl she barely knew. Finally her gaze shifted to meet the Septa's eyes. "She left something. In my protection. I don't know what it is, but it's something she values." "All right," said the Septa. "I've kept secrets before now - I shan't ask. But it may be a while before they return, I'm thinking. They should have been back from a simple trip to the farm a while now. I'm wondering if they mean to avoid our visitors." "Perhaps," Catriona replied. "The minstrel had little interest in being near them last night." She chuckled. "Although if they've no intention of returning with that milk and cheese until later, I hope there's something else to eat...." She stood up, and walked over to the wash basin to clean out her dirty bowl. As she rinsed it out, she inquired softly, "So what is *our* father's name? And where did we grow up?" As she glanced back at the Septa, her face was grave. "Just in case any of our guests push too hard with questions." The Septa hesitated and then said, "No-one in the village knows this. I don't think anyone would guess it either but ... I was born in a village called Helston to Aliss and Granby the blacksmith - a porosperous man. It was on Bolton lands and I ... I was raised at the Dreadfort." "If anyone asks, all I will mention is Granby," Catriona nodded, her expression grave. "I've passed through Bolton lands in my ranging. I didn't linger long," she added quietly. Mariam sighed. "I had little choice," she said sadly. "I was trained there and as soon as I was deemed of suitable age, I was appointed Septa to one of the children of a Bolton knight." Catriona's gaze flickered to the window, where there was still no sign of the minstrel, Callon, or any new visitors, then rested again on the Septa. "Forgive me for my boldness, Mariam," she smiled apologetically, "but my experience with the Seven is less than with the Godswood. But from what little I've seen," she coughed, "your retirement from active Septahood seems to have come earlier than some." Mariam smiled. "My retirement from Septahood at the Dreadfort ended early," she agreed. "But I still keep to my vows. My life here is permitted by the order - and I have the permission of the Marshend Septon to live as I do. But my earlier life ... is not something I would wish to speak of overmuch." "As you wish," Catriona nodded. "Sometimes the past is best left undisturbed." She rose then, and headed into the front room. "Given that we are soon to have visitors, I should probably tend to a few things." Just inside the door of the front room lay a stack of gear retrieved from the dead brigands. She sorted through the pile until she found a belt with a scabbarded long sword. She withdrew the sword, and tossed it back on the pile, but kept the belt and scabbard, strapping it upon her. Catriona then moved over to the settle, and sat upon it. She shot a glance towards the window, and listened for a moment, then called softly to Mariam. "Let me know if company nears." She removed the blood-crusted towel from around her sword, then sheathed it in her newly obtained scabbard. The towel she discarded, almost haphazardly, except that it fell back between the settle and the wall, conveniently shielding her original scabbard from view, yet leaving her quiver and bow unobstructed should she wish to pull them quickly free. The hunter then reached under the pillow to withdraw Callon's treasure. Her fingers felt the weight and breadth of it through its shielding cloth, and her eyes scanned its covering for any markings. It was plain white cloth, yet there was a rich silky sheen to it, unlike the fabrics Catriona was used to. It suggested wealth and luxury ... The object it concealed was largely round and flat, altthough there seemed to be indentations and slight raises on a hard base - too large for any coin that Catriona had seen, but a similar thickness. "Whatever Callon's secret treasure is," Catriona murmured loud enough for Mariam to hear, "from the look of this cloth I hope she comes back for it soon. It's too good for the likes of me." Yet, true to her promise to the girl, she did not unwrap the cloth to view the object with her eyes. Instead, she opened her beltpouch, and secured it within. It was an appreciable heaviness in her pouch. She then stood up to fold her blankets and sheets. She stacked them on the settle, then rested the pillow atop the pile. "What other preparations do you want to make for Septa Aloise's arrival?" Catriona inquired of Mariam. "And would you prefer that I move my bed to the floor so that she can have the settle when she arrives?" Mariam hesitated. "If you can bear that," she said. "But if we are to claim you as my sister, it would be more expected that you would share my bed." "Does this mean that you'll finally allow me to put enough weight on my leg to go upstairs?" Catriona replied with a mirthful grin. She laughed at Mariam's expression, then grabbed the pile of blankets. She pulled out the hidden scabbard, placing it on the blankets, then set the pillow on top. "I may as well move my meager belongings upstairs to continue our family tradition," she said as she headed for the loft. "I can stay on the floor there if you prefer to keep your bed your own. I've rested many a night on the ground, and can make a warm nest anywhere." "I'll carry things," said Mariam hastily. "You shouldn't be climbing more than you need. If you're determined to help, go out to the garden and let me know when you see our visitors coming - or any sign of Callon and the Minstrel." "I figured my reprieve was too good to be true," Catriona muttered, but her smile belied her grumbling. She handed over the pile of linens to Mariam, then tapped on the hidden scabbard. Very softly she added, "If fate divides us prematurely, dear sister, this belongs to Keary." Mariam nodded, her face grave. Clearly she was well aware of just how uncertain life could be. Catriona turned to pull free her quiver and bow as the Septa headed upstairs. She strapped it to her back, then limped over to the door. She paused to inspect the pile of looted bandit gear, retrieving what remained of her arrows, then stepped outside. Her gaze surveyed the horizon for any sign of Callon, the minstrel, or any others. Seeing no one yet, her eyes turned towards inspecting what tracks she could find. She did a circuit of the house and gardens, scanning for the signs that a skilled hunter might note. And, truth be told, to also see if any tracks remained that warranted concealment before prying eyes arrived. Such as wolfprints too close to the house.... There were wolfprints - a day old. Some - but not all - had been hidden by the horses who had visited the house the previous night. But there was no sign of the Minstrel or Callon or - as yet - of the approaching visitors. Catriona glanced over to the field, where the horses of the dead bandits stood cropping the grasses. She winced as she noticed that they were still saddled and bridled. In the chaos of the previous night, all of them had completely forgotten about the horses. She limped slowly through the garden to the field, and called softly to the horses. When they did not shy away, she cautiously approached them. She stretched out her hand to rub the neck of the black mare, capturing her reins when she could. When the grey gelding nudged her with his head, she gave him a scratch with her other hand before retrieving his reins as well. She then led the two horses back towards the house, doing what she could to guide them into obscuring more wolfprints as she did. Once near Mariam's home, she looped the reins of both horses around fenceposts, in a location where each could still feast upon some nearby grass. Glancing up occassionally to see if anyone neared, Catriona contented herself by unsaddling each horse, setting the saddles, blankets, and saddlebags across the fence. She then proceeded to rub down each horse as best she could with only her hands. "Mariam?" Catriona called. "Is your bucket out here somewhere? These horses that you've inherited could use some water." "There's a water barrel by the oak tree," Mariam called, "and a bucket near that." It was as she was filling the bucket with water that Catriona heard the distant rumble of an approaching wagon. Catriona glanced up in the direction of the noise, but could not spot anything yet. She brought the bucket over to a trough that Mariam had set out for her goats, and poured the water into it. She replaced the bucket alongside the oak tree, then went to fetch the horses. "Mariam," Catriona called out. "Sounds like a wagon nears. Can't see them yet, but it might be the guests." "Very well!" Mariam called back. She then led the two horses towards the water trough, finally removing their bridles. She took another long look to see if she could spot the approaching travelers, as well as another check across the fields for any sight of Callon or the minstrel. There was no sign at all. Slinging the bridles over one shoulder, Catriona then picked up one of the saddles and hauled it into the barn, taking care not to exert too much stress on her injured leg. She set the saddle over the wall of an empty stall, and hung the bridles on nearby pegs. She did the same for the second saddle and the associated gear before she stepped outside to look for the visitors again. There was no sign of the visitors ... but one of the horses in the barn gave a sudden, nervous whinny. Catriona whirled, her sword in hand, and reentered the barn to see what had disturbed the horse. The barn was silent - although the horses were still restless. There was a ladder, though, leading to the hayloft. "Callon? Ministrel?" Catriona called out. Staying beside the door, she scanned the barn with her eyes, looking at what she could of the hayloft, too. "Are you hiding in here? Mariam frets because you did not return." There was a second's tense silence - and then a quiet voice - Callon's - called out. "Please - don't betray us." "I won't," Catriona replied, matching Callon's quiet tone. She moved closer to the ladder to the hayloft. "Do you have the cheese and milk? I can take it to Mariam, and say you decided to head into Marshend after dropping it off." She shrugged her shoulders. "Either way, as far as I'm concerned, you aren't here." Callon's face appeared upside down through the entrance to the hayloft. "Thank you!" she called. Then she added apologetically, "I'm afraid we don't have anything ... we just slipped out here and hid." "Ah, well," Catriona murmured with a half-smile. "Darn mice.... Spooking the horses." She resheathed her sword as she headed to the barn door. After she stepped outside, she closed the door firmly behind her once more. She surveyed the area to see if there was any sign of that wagon she had heard or of the approach of anyone else. She could see three riders now, on the brow of the hill in the direction of the road the wagon must be travelling. They were close enough for her to recognise the fair young man with the strangely braided hair that she had met the previous night. When the young man with braids appeared to be looking in her direction, Catriona raised her hand in greeting. "Mariam?" Catriona called out. "The young man called Niko approaches with two others. I don't see the wagon yet, but from the sounds, I expect it won't be too far." She heard a clatter in the house that suggested Mariam was hurrying the last few details of preparation ... (Events continued in The Septa's House: New Arrivals) |
