Events

It’s late when Varanis opens her eyes. She blinks blearily into the light that fills her room. Yelm has been up for some time.

“Marta? I need a cup of lum… Oh.” She mutters a curse and rubs at her eyes. She sighs and sits up, winces, and lies back down.

Marta comes over and lays a cool, damp cloth across Varanis’ forehead. “You told Mellia no more,” she murmurs.

“I remember.” She takes a slow breath. “I promised.”

“There’s water here for you, when you are ready. It will help.” The servant sets a cup down on a small table next to Varanis.

It takes some time, but eventually she sits up again and takes a sip of the water to rinse the foul taste from her mouth. “Xenofos said the poppy would help me sleep. He didn’t warn me about the dreams. I didn’t want to dream.”

The servant says nothing, though as always, her silence carries a wealth of possible meanings. She moves through the room, laying out breakfast and pouring warm water for washing. After the Vingan washes her face, she sits at the table and looks at the food. She wrinkles her nose and turns away.

“More water, lady.” The cup is set on the table. Dutifully, Varanis drains it. “You are a mess. You are covered in half-healed bruises, your nails are broken, and your armour…” Once Marta breaks her silence, she breaks it thoroughly. “You’ve lost weight and you have none to spare. You have to eat something.”

Dutifully, Varanis plucks a dried fig from a plate of fruits and bites into it.

“I’ll put your hair up, shall I?” Marta asks, going for the carved bone comb beside the jewellery box.

“No. Please, not up. Just a single plait for now?”

With gentle hands, Marta combs out the long red hair. It takes time, as Varanis had not done a proper job of it the night before, but the servant works with patience. Varanis nearly drifts off to sleep again as she works. When it is done, Marta puts her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “More water. More food. Come on now. And you have letters to read.”

This gets the Vingan’s attention quickly. “Letters?”

A small cloth-wrapped bundle with a parchment letter gets set on the table. A second letter, written on papyrus follows it. Of course, she goes for the bundle first, needing to know what it contains. As she unwraps it, she lets out a gasp. Gossamer light golden silk catches the light. She leaps up, carrying the bundle to the window, so that Yelm’s rays catch the fabric. “I’ve never seen anything so fine,” she says breathlessly. “It’s gorgeous!” She shakes out the length and studies it carefully. “Marta, look at the weave. It’s exquisite. Where did this come from?” The package was deceptively small – there are several yards of fabric here.

“Perhaps it says something useful in the note?” Marta suggests.

Reverently, Varanis folds the cloth once more, placing it on her bed before going for the note. She unfolds it and peers at the text, frowning.¹Read roll is fumbled. Player’s son rewrote the letter to reflect the fumble. Oh dear.

Varanis reads out loud, puzzling her way through the letter.

Marta shakes her head. “You need to read the other letter first, my lady. Lord Xenofos brought it for you last night.”

“What has he written? His letter barely makes more sense that Serala’s…”²This uses the same fumbled read score. This version of the letter was sent by Xenofos’ player.

She reads it aloud as well.

She growls. “What has he done? Marta, I need to speak to my cousin now.”