Warprize

it to burn trash now.”
    I turned. There in the fireplace were the ashes of books and papers. The pile looked familiar. It was.
    I could still make out the cord I had used before I had left. The fire must have been huge. A wonder that it had not caught the chimney on fire. I knelt and reached out, but the ash collapsed at the touch of my fingers. A lump rose in my throat.
    “Something important?” Keir asked.
    I stood. “No. Nothing important.” I wiped my hands together as I moved woodenly toward the door. “
    We should move on. There is much more to see.”
    Othur was standing in the hall when I emerged. The lump in my throat grew tighter when he saw my pain. “He burned my books,” I whispered.
    Othur reached out a hand, his eyes crinkled in sympathy, but let it drop when Keir appeared in the doorway. “Seneschal, your presence is not required. The warprize is guide enough.”
    Othur bowed his head. “Warlord, forgive me. I was told that you had no need of me, but I have served two kings in this castle, as my father did before me. Excuse an old man his pride.”
    Keir paused. “Did you ‘inherit’ your place?”
    “No, Warlord. Xyron selected me for my skills, and Xy-mund chose to retain me as Seneschal.”
    “And your son?”
    “My son has no interest in serving in this capacity, Warlord. He prefers the way of a warrior.” Othur smiled. “I would be honored it you would permit me to show you the castle defenses.”
    “Lead on.”
    Othur did, and was soon explaining about battlements and murder holes. I fell back, not really paying attention to what was being said. Why had he done that? For certain, Xymund burned my notes and books. I couldn’t imagine it. I’d done as he commanded. Why was he so angry? So furious that he couldn’t even greet me, or note my presence in a room.
    Othur led us to the rooms above the castle’s main entrance, and everyone was enthralled with murder holes and the winches for the portcullis. I drifted to the back, and Othur managed to slip to my side. “
    Durst?” I whispered.
    “He lives, but barely. Eln is with him.” Relief surged over me as Othur continued, keeping his voice low. “
    Warren’s clearing the castle and the courtyard of hot-tempered fools. He’s got things under control for now. I had Degnan locked in his rooms, under guard. Can’t decide if he’s angrier over the attack or the loss of his inheritance.”
    “Xymund?” I breathed, fearing the answer.
    “In his chambers, refusing to see anyone.” Othur passed a hand over his damp forehead and dried it on his trous. “I fear a bloodletting if Durst dies.”
    Keir and the others were still focused on the defenses. “Othur, there is a ceremony, a ritual. You ask for the person’s token.” I spoke quickly. “It protects you when you tell a Fire-lander something insulting or that would upset them. I’m not allowed—” I cut my words off as Keir approached.
    “A wondrous tent of stone, Othur.” Keir looked about the room. “I wonder at your ability to keep it repaired and supplied.”
    Othur smiled. “No more that I wonder at the skills required to keep an army on the march, Warlord.” He cleared his throat. “I have a question, Warlord, but I would not offer offense.”
    Keir looked rueful, and glanced at me. “Ask, Seneschal.”
    “Would you be willing to explain the use of tokens by your people?” Othur’s voice was reasonable, but he tensed, waiting for Keir’s reaction.
    “I would.” The tone of Keir’s voice surprised me, for I heard a sense of shame behind his words.
    “Perhaps over food and drink? My Lady Wife is the Castle
    Cook and would welcome you in her kingdom.“ Othur placed a hand on my shoulder. ”She’s very fond of the warprize.“
    “That would be Anna?” Keir asked. At Othur’s nod, he nodded. “It’s not wise to offend a cook,” Keir smiled. “Lead the way.”
    The kitchen was empty, save for Anna and one of the serving lads. Anna looked drawn and tired, dressed in a clean gown and fresh apron, her spice keys on her belt. Her face lit up like the sun when she saw me. Either she hadn’t noticed the dress, or someone had seen fit to warn her of its color. We paused in awkward uncertainty for a moment as she debated how to greet me, but I took matters into my own hands. “Warlord, allow me to present Anna, who rules this kitchen and all our hearts.”
    Anna gave out a nervous laugh, and after a quick glance at the Warlord, stepped forward