“A veil-shredder?” he said with concern.
“Hush, I’ll tell you more tomorrow,” she whispered as they turned into the high street, and she pushed him away as their paths separated.
Chapter 8
Black Hen, Greenswatch
Jennery was sitting on a stool at the bar nursing a mug of ale when Jerrol entered the taproom. The barkeep inspected him. “Well, you’re looking better,” he said as he placed a mug on the bar in front of him.
“Lady’s blessings on your wife,” Jerrol said, hand splayed over his heart. “She is a miracle worker.”
The ’keep grinned. “Oh, aye? Don’t tell her that, she’ll be crowing for the rest of the year.”
“And so she should.” Jerrol prepared to move off to a table.
“You’re a follower of the Lady?” the ’keep asked.
“You are not?”
“Oh, aye, I am. There’s not many round here who admit to it, though; many are questioning, and newcomers scoff at the legends.”
Jerrol raised his brows. “Here? Where Her presence is felt the most strongly?”
The ’keep bobbed his head. “Be careful what you say. The doubters are creeping in and causing strife. If the Lady is struggling in Her stronghold, what is it like elsewhere?”
“Thanks for the warning,” Jerrol said as he joined Jennery in an alcove near the roaring fire. He relaxed back in the seat out of the glare opposite Jennery and considered the barkeep’s warning.
“Where’s Birlerion?” Jennery asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. The shadows flickered over his rugged face as the flames danced.
“He went for a bath. I expect he’ll be along soon.”
“Have you had a chance to speak to him? Properly, I mean. He doesn’t say much, does he? Even when he does speak, he tells you nothing.”
“Would you, in his situation? He is disoriented; the only thing he is clinging to is the fact that the Lady told him to protect me for some reason.”
“You think he really is a Sentinal?”
Jerrol choked on his ale. “You don’t?”
Before Jennery had a chance to answer the food arrived, a steaming roast and freshly baked bread, closely followed by Birlerion looking even younger, newly shaved and with his damp hair slicked back and dressed in clean shirt and trousers.
“Well, the Dirty Duck is exceeding all expectations,” Jennery said as they tucked in.
Jerrol eyed Birlerion as he ate. He was neat and economical, focused on his food, and for such a distinctive-looking man, he seemed to blend into the shadows. He turned his attention to the room as it began to fill with locals, returning from the service at the Landing.
Birlerion glanced across at Jerrol, as if aware of his inspection. “What are you expecting to achieve here? What exactly are you searching for?”
“The circuit is a periodic check on the Guardians and the Watches. They are tied to the Lady, the Land and our Liege. The health of the country and the King is enshrined in the Guardians who protect us.” Jerrol paused, struck by a thought, before continuing. “Makes you wonder if this is tied to the King’s illness. It’s said that the first responsibility of the Crown is to protect the Guardians for the Lady. Rumour has it that some Guardians have disappeared and not been replaced. Our job is to check and solve where possible. To help the King keep his oath to the Lady.”
“Solve what?” Birlerion asked, glancing at the fire as a log shifted on the hearth, causing sparks to fly up the chimney.
“That is what I hope you can help us find out, discreetly.” Jerrol clapped Birlerion on the shoulder. “I would expect you to know who the Guardians are.”
“The Watches had only just been created, the Lord Guardians confirmed. I’m not sure I will recognise them any better than you would,” Birlerion replied as he gazed at the Captain. His expression grew withdrawn. “Once I knew this land well, not so much now.”
“You’ll learn it again. I have maps. You can study them later.”
“It’s not just the land. It’s the people. It’s the way of life. Everything is so much faster. People are always in a hurry. Moving things from one place to another. I saw a wood mill on the river near Deepwater. They were using the water to power the mill. I’ve never seen anything like it. They wouldn’t let me inside to look.”
Jerrol scowled. “There is progress, and then there is progress. I’m not sure Deepwater is a good example. The water mills have helped to speed up production, especially as the population grows because growth drives more demand for timber. But Deepwater seems to be taking it to extremes.” He fell silent, considering the sudden ramp in timber production in the Watches.
A little later as Jennery stood at the bar waiting to get refills, the door gusted open, and a crowd of men blew in on the damp air. “Ugh, trust Mac to end the day with a bit o’ rain. I bet he’s laughing his socks off, watching us get wet sending him off.”
“Ah, it’s not his fault,” a small elderly man replied. “I expect the Lady’s grieving too; he was an ardent supporter, you know. The fires burned extra bright for him.”
“Yeah, yeah, Father, was a nice service,” a stocky, red-faced man replied, leaning on the bar. “Hey ’keep, three flagons of ale and...” he paused, counting, “seven mugs,” he finished. The men gathered round, holding out mugs ready to be filled; once served, they moved off to the tables around the fire. They checked to see strangers ensconced in the alcove, but the lure of the bright yellow flames drew them in, and they all settled down comfortably.
Jerrol dipped his head in greeting. “Turned into a damp night,” he said.
“Yeah,” sighed the stocky man who had ordered the beers. “And you are?” he asked, casting a suspicious glance at them.
“Just passing through, had a wondrous experience this afternoon in that bathtub,” Jerrol replied, smiling with remembered pleasure.
The stocky man snorted. “Yeah, can you believe that fella listened to his wife and is building a
