Now that I had nothing more to dread, I found myself enjoying Anne's company. She preceded to take me first on an excursion around the castle's interior and then later we toured its immediate grounds, amidst the commotion and bustle of the morning's activities.

Though we viewed most of the castle's chambers, she was unable to show me each and every one of the thirty-five private state rooms; but I found that most of the them looked much the same as mine. We did, however, inspect the service areas without, as was her daily habit, such as the larders, with their hooks of hanging meats, shelves and vegetables. From thence I was taken to the undercroft, the dairy, the buttery where the beer butts were kept in the cellars below, the pantries, and then finally the outside scullery before we headed to one of the most important areas in the castle.

Anne lead me next along a covered arcade to the kitchens where the fires had already been lit for for the day's elaborate meal preparations. Everywhere I happened to look, people were in motion — the kitchen staff were turning spits of various roasts, the cooks were shouting orders and waving their cleavers or tasting their sauces, and the cauldrons were even now suspended from hooks over the open fires, bubbling with heavenly, aromatic stews and soups. All was a blur of activity and restless energy as Anne stopped a moment to confer with her the head cook.

My tour continued for hours, but I reveled in the excitement of what was, to these people, merely commonplace and not worth the awe it all inspired in me. The grooms were sweeping out the stables, the smith was at his forge, and the knights and their squires were practicing fencing in the tilting yard abutting the smaller courtyard to the south.

My eyes drank of every detail — the pantler cuffing a kitchen boy over the head for some mild transgression, the cook scalding his fingers, the moss growing up along the side of the chicken coop, the dovecote with its brick-domed, cylindrical tower, and the hounds baying in their kennels; all this I absorbed in wonder. But where was Nørrdragor's master? And where was his son? No doubt cloistered away in the solar's suite of apartments, meeting with the steward, the officers, and making ready for their voyage on the morrow. All was as it should be.

My favorite, of all the areas that Anne took me to, was the large garden occupying a vast area near the main kitchen. There were a medley of fruit trees, mostly apples and pears, a separate little herb garden, a fishpond and a multitude of flowers and vines: roses, lilies, violets and daffodils. It was all an intense explosion of rich and colorful clusters no matter where I looked and I was loathe to leave the garden, for here was where I felt the most at home and, were it not decidedly unseemly and frowned upon, where I would gladly opt to sleep the rest of my days.

Alas we could not stay. The dinner horn rent the air with an almighty blast, at around noon, to summon the castle inhabitants to the great hall for the main meal of the day. I now knew there to be three dining halls, two of which were public, but the smallest was the family's private dining chamber and located in the private wing.

"Come, Aria. This is the quickest way to the great hall," said Anne. And, taking my hand, she led me thither.

I had entreated her to call me by the shortened version of my name and she now happily obliged me. I doubted whether Godwin would be as easily persuaded to do the same; however I was not likely to request it of him.

"Good gracious child, you are rather tall for your age! I'll need to have longer gowns made for you!" Anne was looking aghast at my slippers and bared ankles, having only just noticed how visible they were beneath my kirtle, as we entered the hall.

I was soon seated beside Anne, who sat next to her husband, at the raised dais where the family and all the illustrious personages were at liberty to sit; therefore I was rather surprised to see Carac on the bench at Godwin's elbow — where a family member might sit — and also delighted to note the absence of Lucian and Caine from the main meal.

"Is Carac a family member, Anne?" I had whispered ever so softly to Anne, but saw at once that my words had carried to both Godwin and the subject of my discourse.

In sooth, the possibility of them having heard me was an inconceivable notion, what with the mealtime din, and yet they both observed me with sharp looks; there was no question as to whether or not they had overheard my question. They had done so easily when I had not even expected Anne to hear me. I winced.

"Yes, Ariana. Carac is Lady Anne's youngest brother and a landed Knight in his own right," Godwin replied sternly. "Two thousand acres if you must know." Amaranth lay heavy on my cheeks as servants, bearing ewers of water, small basins, and linen towels, began attending us so that we might wash our hands before the meal. After grace was said, Anne turned to me.

"Our father is a baron," she explained compassionately. "Carac and I are the youngest of four, but we rarely see my two eldest brothers. My father, however, has promised to make the journey from Novrikken soon; although he loathes to travel if he can avoid it."

I inclined my head in a halfhearted manner, still smarting over Godwin's veiled reprimand. Smiling weakly, I turned to study the hall in detail, sliding my eyes avidly across the sea of colorful headdresses and hats. I had not really done so the night before, save for the impressive, twin fireplaces.

The lord and lady were the only two personages seated atop huge, cushioned chairs with red canopies overhead; to emphasize the lofty status they held. The rest of us occupied cushioned benches at the trestle tables. Each table was furnished with large white tablecloths, sets of steel knives, silver spoons, silver cups, mazers and trenchers. There were beeswax candles in iron candelabras, rushlights supported on wall brackets and, of course, the ubiquitous fires in the two gargantuan hearths that, together with the light streaming in from the windows, lit the space completely — all the better to appreciate the details within.

The hall itself was approximately sixty-five feet long, forty feet wide and sixty feet high with a vaulted ceiling of massive wood beams and white-washed, plaster walls that were painted with red stripes to imitate masonry blocks. Each block was decorated with a golden wolf and the support columns, as well as some of the other walls, were embellished with carvings of wolves' heads, their mouths gaping wide with dreadful fangs.

The floor was made of colored tiles which had been recently swept and over which fresh rushes and lavender were now spread. There were beautiful murals along some of the walls, of hunting scenes mostly, and ornate tapestries — depicting ordinary castle life — that hung from most of the stone walls.

One tapestry in particularly aroused my interest, notwithstanding its unsettling effect on me. Right beside the wainscoting, next to the dais, was that strange portrayal of the big, grey wolf that was guarding, or yet to eat, the two baby boys who were spread before it like sacrificial, little lambs. I could look no longer and was fortunately diverted by the meal service.

The pantler arrived with the bread and butter, shortly followed by the wine and beer that was carried in by the butler and his assistants. There were three courses, all consisting of several dishes: I tried the beef and mutton pottage first, then the boiled pork and stewed swan which was accompanied with a fritter of boar's entrails. I did not care much for the leche lombard which was composed of mainly pork and eggs mixed with spices, pepper, sugar, currents and dates before being boiled in a pig's bladder.

By the time the mortrews arrived — chicken and pork combined with salted breadcrumbs and saffron — I was too satiated to continue, which was a shame for I looked longingly at the boiled venison and almond milk. The rabbit farcing had also caught my interest for the meat had been ground into a fine paste and then placed back into its skin, arranged in such a way as to seem like the beast were merely sitting nonchalantly atop its platter surrounded by boiled vegetables.

So it was that I practically waddled from the table after dinner, once the last of the cheese and fruit had been served and consumed by all except myself. I passed by a boy, who was roughly my own age, as I followed Anne from the warmth of the hall. He was staring so openly and curiously at me that my interest was instantly piqued.

"Anne, who is that boy?" I pointed surreptitiously to the well dressed teenager who still sat at a table close to the dais I had only just vacated.

"He is called Thomas. He is the steward's son. I believe he will be joining you for your lessons each day, I shall introduce you to him tonight at supper."

As if the boy had heard his name, though Anne spoke only in a low tone, he offered a friendly and lopsided little grin which I could not help but answer for it was so disarming and innocent.



❅



That evening, after supper, Anne took me to her private parlor so that we might sit and embroider, but when I became restless she offered to show me the view of the setting sun from one of the towers and I readily agreed. It had been an eventful first day at Nørrdragor and I was growing tired. Oddly, Lucian and Caine had again not appeared for the meal, and I wondered at their being absent a second time. Stranger still was the fact that, in addition to their nonattendance, neither Godwin nor Carac had joined us in the great hall.

We were now standing at a large glazed window of one of the highest rooms in the western tower that overlooked the odd, red forest and part of the vast, dark ocean.

"Why is the forest red, Anne?" I looked up to where she stood beside me.

"The Bloodbirch is an aptly named tree native only to the North." She smiled serenely as she took in the prospect. "And its leaves are of such a dark burgundy that it gives the illusion of a red forest; especially at sunset. Moreover, there are so many of them populating the woods that one hardly notices the rest of the verdant species."

She tilted her head down and considered me a moment afore she spoke again. "One day I will take you there to hunt, as I do so enjoy hawking, and you will see for yourself how vibrant the colors truly are within. How does that sound?" she winked.

I nodded happily as Anne moved from the window in favor of a comfortable chair where she took her leisure, resuming her needlework as I seated myself at the bay window and stared out at the alluring beauty of my boundless, new homeland.

However, movement at the edge of the forest caught my discerning, young eye. Even from the colossal height and distance of my viewpoint I could see the disturbing spectacle in great detail for my eyes were as acute as an eagle's — but that was my dark secret now; no one at Nørrdragor need know how odd I truly was.

I watched as a precession of men, all trussed up with chains, were being ushered by armored guardsmen into the woods by way of a little, dirt track. I stared bemusedly as the men staggered and fought their restraints: some being dragged by their feet screaming, the sound muted but clear enough that I heard it with my anomalous ears.

Eventually the group disappeared into the cover of the Redweld forest.

"Anne, hurry! You will not believe what I have seen!" But it was too late, they were no longer in view.

I dared not take my eyes away from where I'd seen them disappear, so when I felt the lady arrive at my back I pointed in the general direction that I'd seen the men conducted, and disclosed to her exactly what I'd seen.

"Whither are they headed?" When she did not answer, I twisted around to face her animatedly. She seemed displeased, which confused me. I felt my brows meet over the bridge of my nose.

"Come away from the window, Aria."

She seemed eager for my removal from the casement, thus I did as she wished and climbed from the window. I was confused and a little wary of her brusque manner and it must have been clearly visible for she gentled her voice and relaxed her stern mouth to explain a little.

"Those men are more than likely just criminals. Concern yourself no further. Come, let us get you to bed."

I slipped my hand into hers and she steered me from the tower, lest I see the forest swallowing any other dirty secrets.



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