Greyhollow

The interior of Greyhollow was warmer than he expected. The main hall was not large but it was well kept and the hearth fire burned steady and hot. Tapestries hung on the walls but they were old and faded and he could not make out their scenes. A long table sat in the center of the hall with benches on either side. At the far end a chair that was not quite a throne but was clearly the seat of authority stood on a low platform.

Elara did not sit in it. She sat on one of the benches near the fire and gestured for him to sit across from her. A servant brought water and then bread and cheese and a small bowl of something that smelled like pheasant. Aldric ate because he had not eaten since dawn and she watched him eat without touching anything herself.

"Tell me what you were told about this posting," she said.

"That you requested a household knight. That your previous one departed. That I was to come and serve."

"Did they tell you why I requested one?"

"No."

"Did they tell you why the previous one left?"

"No. I asked. I was not given an answer."

She nodded slowly. "His name was Ser Colven. He served me for two years. He was competent. He left because I asked him to do something he was not willing to do."

Aldric waited. She did not elaborate. He did not press. She seemed to notice that and something in her expression shifted. A small movement around her mouth that might have been approval or might have been something else entirely.

"Your duties will be what I say they are when I say they are. You will guard my person and this keep. You will manage the men at arms. There are twelve and they are adequate but not better than that. You will carry messages when I need them carried and you will represent me when I need representation. You will not drink to excess. You will not gamble. You will not take a woman in this hold or in the village without my knowledge. Is that understood?"

"It is."

"You will address me as my lady in the presence of others. When we are alone you may do the same. You will not use my given name. You will not touch me unless I instruct you to. You will not enter my chambers unless I have summoned you or unless you believe my life is in danger. If you enter for that reason and I am not in danger you will be dismissed. Is that understood?"

"It is."

She leaned back and looked at him with those dark eyes and he felt something he could not name. Not fear. Not discomfort. Something closer to the feeling of standing on a ledge and knowing that the ground below was further than you could see.

"Ser Colven was a good knight," she said. "But he could not separate what he was ordered to do from what he felt about being ordered to do it. He took things personally. He had feelings about things that were not his to have feelings about. I need someone who does not have that problem."

"You have been told I do not."

"I have been told you do not question."

"That is not the same thing."

"No," she said. "It is not. But it is close enough for now."

She stood and he stood with her. "Your room is on the second floor at the east end of the hall. It is small but it has a window and a lock on the inside. I will send for you in the morning. Until then you are free to inspect the grounds and the walls and speak with the men. Do not go into the village today."

She left him standing by the table. He listened to her footsteps on the stairs and then on the floor above and then a door closed and there was silence.

He spent the afternoon doing as she had suggested. He walked the walls and found them sound. He spoke with the men at arms and found them wary but not unfriendly. They answered his questions with short sentences and watched him the way men watch a new dog that has been brought into the yard. They would accept him or they would not and it would take time either way.

The one called Briwer was the oldest. He had a scar across his jaw and the flat eyes of a man who had seen things he did not want to talk about. He walked the wall with Aldric in the late afternoon and pointed out the features of the land without being asked.

"Bandits come through the Ashwood twice a year maybe. Spring and autumn. They hit the farms first and then they test the walls. They have not gotten through in three years."

"And before that?"

"Before that they got through twice. The lady was not here yet. The old lord was still alive. He died and she came and things changed."

"How did they change?"

Briwer looked at him and then looked out at the trees. "She spent coin on the walls. On the men. On the gatehouse. She made us drill. She made us patrol. She does not sleep much and she does not let us sleep much either. We are better for it."

"Is she liked?"

The question sat in the air for a moment. Briwer scratched his jaw where the scar was.

"She is respected," he said. "That is enough."

That night Aldric lay in his small room on a bed that was better than anything he had in the barracks and he stared at the ceiling and thought about the woman he was now sworn to. She was controlled. She was precise. She spoke the way a person speaks when they have thought about every word before it leaves their mouth. She had set rules that were clear and rigid and there was no give in them. He had served commanders like that before and he had no problem with it. But there was something else there. Something in the way she had looked at him when he did not press her about Ser Colven. Something in the way she had listed the rules about touching and entering and names. Those were not the rules of a lady protecting her honor. Those were the rules of a person constructing a structure and putting him inside it.

He did not sleep well again.