Ashling looked at the jars and smiled at Tristan. “They are beautiful.”
She and Tristan gave the Jarls the remedies they had prepared for Namdalen. Then they said farewell and left the tent.
“All we can do now is wait for the outcome.” She hooked arms with Tristan as they began walking. “I hope we will do better than the others. Now, I want to visit Jorg. I have a bad gut feeling about the beer and the potential Labrador tea poisonings. What do you think about it, Tristan?”
It was still spring but it would soon be summer. In this district of Fensalir, Springwater, Nature was extra lovely. The early green foliage made everything light and joyful. Many of the cottages had gardens. This time of the year, plants and trees were blossoming and the breeze spread their fragrance in the air. The people who lived there were out and about, doing their daily tasks. Children and pets ran around playing. The happy sound of giggling and delighted screams blended with the playful barking of dogs.
“Springwater is a wonderful district for children. Ayla would love to live here. Look how fun the children are having. Adults can never replace playmates of the same age. Here, she could just open the door and run out to play.”
Ashling glanced at Tristan and tried to gauge his reaction. What did he think? During the tournament, they had been too busy with the challenges to have time for other kinds of discussions. He had so far not spoken much about how he figured their future to be. Would he want to live in Fensalir? Would he see how good it would be for them to settle here, in Ashling’s hometown?
“Life is much better here than in Raelia, Tristan. Fensalir is a sprawling city. There’s room for everything people might want to do. Houses with room for families and guests, big gardens, interesting neighbours, nature nearby, the lake to bathe in during the summers...in the warmest time we could go bathing with Ayla and the dogs to keep them from getting too hot.”
A small flock of children who looked to be age three to six crossed the road, accompanied by a big shepherd dog which gave Ashling and Tristan wary eyes. They stopped and waited for the small ones and their four-legged guardian to continue into a garden on the other side of the street. A woman called out to them from somewhere in the garden and the children called back, laughing.
“I think it’s a birthday party.” Ashling smiled. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could find a house for sale here, or maybe a site where we could build a new home? Oh, there would even be room for your statues, outdoors, in a garden, where people could come and watch them... at least in the warm seasons, but maybe they need to be stored indoors in the winters...anyway, it’s a pity that you keep them in a storage room.”
Surely Tristan must understand the benefits of living in Fensalir? The best city! But, his house in Raelia was lavish and very comfortable in the winters so there was that...She could understand if Tristan wanted to keep it and use it. ”We could stay in Raelia too sometimes, in your city house, but spend the warmer parts of the year in Fensalir. “
Springwater did all a city district could do to support her as they walked along the picturesque streets. They entered a street where the houses and gardens were bigger. Ashling guided Tristan towards one of those buildings, a wooden lodge with a tavern on the ground floor. "It’s one of the best inns in Fensalir. The Jarls and their entourage live here during the tournaments. They call it Springwater Hold, in jest...”
A waitress approached them when they entered the tavern, but Ashling shook her head. “Later. We are here to visit a friend. A young boy who is ill ...Jorg Magnus.”
“And you are?”
“Ashling Grayhawk. Daughter or Sol’ange, the healer ... is my mother still here?”
The waitress shook her head. Sol’s name had done its work though. “The boy is upstairs, in the room at the end of the right corridor.”
Going upstairs was an easy case and finding the room was a bagatelle, but getting in was not. Jarl Magnus had put armed guards outside the boy’s room. They were two hefty Melrathi warriors with Embla tattoos on their brows showing that they were Ragnari. How dumb of her to not foresee this! Of course, Jarl Magnus wouldn’t leave Jorg without protection!
“Your errand?” The guard speaking put his hand on the hilt of the sword he carried. His tone was not aggressive but it was firm.
Ashling was however looking at the other man. His face was full of scars, a living testimony of surgery...her novice surgery, at the end of Vhalar last arc. But it lit up with a smile and his eyes went friendly. “You’re the healer that patched me up in the fall. They told me I’d been lucky to find somebody to clean and sew the wounds so I didn’t lose parts of my face.”
Ashling nodded. Oh, spirits! She had been an inexperienced surgeon and she had also been angry. The result of her work was what you could expect of a novice. She wasn’t proud of it. But, she had at least done her best despite the rage that had been burning in her after the abductions of the stormtouched. Professional honour had made her carry on. “Good to see that your face healed,” she managed. "I wish I had been a better surgeon though."
The man grinned. “A few beautiful scars on the face of a Ragnari is never wrong, eh? If you are free in the evening we could go out and have a drink when I’m off duty.”
“We are on duty now!” The other guard sounded a bit irritated. “You know them, Gerth?”
“She’s a healer. A lovely Fensalir girl.”
The other guard rolled his eyes and turned to Ashling and Tristan.
“Your errand?” His voice was calm but stern as steel and his hand still rested on the hilt.
She and Tristan gave the Jarls the remedies they had prepared for Namdalen. Then they said farewell and left the tent.
“All we can do now is wait for the outcome.” She hooked arms with Tristan as they began walking. “I hope we will do better than the others. Now, I want to visit Jorg. I have a bad gut feeling about the beer and the potential Labrador tea poisonings. What do you think about it, Tristan?”
It was still spring but it would soon be summer. In this district of Fensalir, Springwater, Nature was extra lovely. The early green foliage made everything light and joyful. Many of the cottages had gardens. This time of the year, plants and trees were blossoming and the breeze spread their fragrance in the air. The people who lived there were out and about, doing their daily tasks. Children and pets ran around playing. The happy sound of giggling and delighted screams blended with the playful barking of dogs.
“Springwater is a wonderful district for children. Ayla would love to live here. Look how fun the children are having. Adults can never replace playmates of the same age. Here, she could just open the door and run out to play.”
Ashling glanced at Tristan and tried to gauge his reaction. What did he think? During the tournament, they had been too busy with the challenges to have time for other kinds of discussions. He had so far not spoken much about how he figured their future to be. Would he want to live in Fensalir? Would he see how good it would be for them to settle here, in Ashling’s hometown?
“Life is much better here than in Raelia, Tristan. Fensalir is a sprawling city. There’s room for everything people might want to do. Houses with room for families and guests, big gardens, interesting neighbours, nature nearby, the lake to bathe in during the summers...in the warmest time we could go bathing with Ayla and the dogs to keep them from getting too hot.”
A small flock of children who looked to be age three to six crossed the road, accompanied by a big shepherd dog which gave Ashling and Tristan wary eyes. They stopped and waited for the small ones and their four-legged guardian to continue into a garden on the other side of the street. A woman called out to them from somewhere in the garden and the children called back, laughing.
“I think it’s a birthday party.” Ashling smiled. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could find a house for sale here, or maybe a site where we could build a new home? Oh, there would even be room for your statues, outdoors, in a garden, where people could come and watch them... at least in the warm seasons, but maybe they need to be stored indoors in the winters...anyway, it’s a pity that you keep them in a storage room.”
Surely Tristan must understand the benefits of living in Fensalir? The best city! But, his house in Raelia was lavish and very comfortable in the winters so there was that...She could understand if Tristan wanted to keep it and use it. ”We could stay in Raelia too sometimes, in your city house, but spend the warmer parts of the year in Fensalir. “
Springwater did all a city district could do to support her as they walked along the picturesque streets. They entered a street where the houses and gardens were bigger. Ashling guided Tristan towards one of those buildings, a wooden lodge with a tavern on the ground floor. "It’s one of the best inns in Fensalir. The Jarls and their entourage live here during the tournaments. They call it Springwater Hold, in jest...”
A waitress approached them when they entered the tavern, but Ashling shook her head. “Later. We are here to visit a friend. A young boy who is ill ...Jorg Magnus.”
“And you are?”
“Ashling Grayhawk. Daughter or Sol’ange, the healer ... is my mother still here?”
The waitress shook her head. Sol’s name had done its work though. “The boy is upstairs, in the room at the end of the right corridor.”
Going upstairs was an easy case and finding the room was a bagatelle, but getting in was not. Jarl Magnus had put armed guards outside the boy’s room. They were two hefty Melrathi warriors with Embla tattoos on their brows showing that they were Ragnari. How dumb of her to not foresee this! Of course, Jarl Magnus wouldn’t leave Jorg without protection!
“Your errand?” The guard speaking put his hand on the hilt of the sword he carried. His tone was not aggressive but it was firm.
Ashling was however looking at the other man. His face was full of scars, a living testimony of surgery...her novice surgery, at the end of Vhalar last arc. But it lit up with a smile and his eyes went friendly. “You’re the healer that patched me up in the fall. They told me I’d been lucky to find somebody to clean and sew the wounds so I didn’t lose parts of my face.”
Ashling nodded. Oh, spirits! She had been an inexperienced surgeon and she had also been angry. The result of her work was what you could expect of a novice. She wasn’t proud of it. But, she had at least done her best despite the rage that had been burning in her after the abductions of the stormtouched. Professional honour had made her carry on. “Good to see that your face healed,” she managed. "I wish I had been a better surgeon though."
The man grinned. “A few beautiful scars on the face of a Ragnari is never wrong, eh? If you are free in the evening we could go out and have a drink when I’m off duty.”
“We are on duty now!” The other guard sounded a bit irritated. “You know them, Gerth?”
“She’s a healer. A lovely Fensalir girl.”
The other guard rolled his eyes and turned to Ashling and Tristan.
“Your errand?” His voice was calm but stern as steel and his hand still rested on the hilt.
At least it wasn’t to the Jarl Namdalen’s taste.