“This is the Great Hall.” He led her around the room, describing the huge stone fireplace that took up the entire west wall, letting her touch the long trestle tables where no one had eaten as long as he could remember. He led her to the raised dais situated near the east wall. Two chairs were located on the dais; a thick carpet was spread before the heavy oak chairs. She ran her hands over the heavy draperies that covered the windows.
There were tapestries on the walls, three of which were embroidered with scenes he was glad Channa Leigh could not see. They had troubled him all his life. The first depicted a large black wolf being pursued by hunters. A spear protruded from the wolf’s back, blood strained his fur, trailed behind him in the snow.
The second tapestry showed a tall man clad in a flowing black cloak. Behind him, the dark sky was growing light as the sun rose over a craggy cliff. Surrounding the man were a dozen hunters armed with spears. Apart from the hunters stood a priest, a large silver cross held over his head. Teeth bared, the man in the cloak faced his pursuers. It was the eyes that troubled Darkfest. Red eyes alight with defiance. The wolf’s eyes.
The third tapestry portrayed either a victory or a defeat, depending on one’s point of view. A black wolf lay dead in the snow, surrounded by the hunters and the priest. A hooded man stood at the wolf’s side, an axe poised to sever the wolf’s head from its body.
Darkfest guided her into the library, felt his face grow hot as he realized she would have no need of this room.
He took her to the solar, watched her smile as she took a deep breath, her nostrils filling with the scents of the hardy mountain flowers that bloomed and thrived even in the midst of winter.
He bypassed his bedchamber and led her into the room that connected to his. It was a large square room. Once, it had belonged to his mother.
Step by step, he guided Channa Leigh to the huge canopy bed, the table that held ewer and basin. There were two large chests in the room; one for her clothing, he explained, and one for extra bedding.
A smaller room opened off this room. It had been his mother’s sewing room.
He escorted Channa Leigh down the narrow corridor to the garderobe, saw the color bloom in her cheeks as he told her what it was.
When the tour was complete, he took her back to her own room. “I will get yer belongings,” he said, and left her there.
Channa Leigh made her way to the bed and sat down. T’was a huge place. She would not have been surprised to learn that the whole of her village could fit inside the main hall. She ran her hands over the mattress. The bed itself was bigger than her room at home.
Home. A single tear slipped down her cheek. A year away from her mother and father, from Ronin, seemed a terribly long time, and yet it was a small price to pay for her mother’s life.
She shook off her melancholy and thought about the wizard, instead. What did he want of her?
Frightened and restless, she stood up and began to pace the room, her feet moving slowly over the floor as she memorized the dimensions of her chamber, her hands exploring every object within the room, running over the window ledge, touching the glass.
She whirled around at the sound of the door opening.
“Tis I,” Darkfest said. “I have brought yer things.”
She heard his footsteps as he crossed the floor.
“I have put yer bag on the foot of the bed.”
“Thank ye, my lord.” She clasped her hands to still their trembling, took a deep breath. “I would like to know, my lord, what it is ye expect of me.”
“I should like ye to prepare my meals and wash my clothes, and clean the castle, as best ye can.”
“Aye, my lord. Is that all?”
“It is.”
“I do not mean to be impudent, my lord, but surely ye could have hired a girl from the village to serve ye. One who could see.”
“Aye, Channa Leigh.”
“Then why...”
“Why did I want ye?”
She nodded, certain she had angered him.
“I want ye to sing for me in the evening, Channa Leigh. For me, and for no one else. Is there anything else ye wish to know?”
“Nay, my lord. I shall do whatever ye wish.”
