BROKEN

III. TRUTH BITTER AND CLEAR

By the looks of the village within the walls, Luthorix was not as wealthy as had been rumored in the southlands. The structures were sturdy timber and stone, but with none of the legendary golden embellishments. The streets were muddy but rinsed clear of waste.

A few of the villagers raised a hand to the guards in welcome and spared the new arrivals a curious glance but nothing more. Only a few men worked in the village, and they were all past fighting age. A few boys helped the women working on various tasks, but their voices were those of children and not young men.

Though Kara observed this oddity, she said nothing of it to her guide.

Everyone had a smile or kind word for the woman leading Kara to the keep, though no one approached them. Ahead, the shadow of the keep awaited. Fewer guards lingered this far into the village.

The hall of the keep was dark, barely brightened by a few sconces. Aged tapestries, their hunting scenes faded and thread-bare, hung from the ceiling beams. Here, too, there was little sign of wealth. The keep instead was a spacious room of high industry. A row of rough-hewn tables and benches lined the long walls, with several more on the main receiving area.

Women worked everywhere, sewing, weaving, carving, cooking, stoking the fires, sorting dry goods and woven textiles. Children ran in the spaces between tables, laughing and avoiding their chores. Though a few guards were present, they were off-duty.

No men stood in the hall. The few Kara had seen in the village appeared to be the only men in all of Lynellhold.

A stone and timber throne sat on a raised platform at the end of the hall. A pile of blankets had been thrown over one arm, and a double handful of spears lay propped against its back. A pile of serving dishes was stored on its seat.

By Kara's estimation, no one had sat in that throne for weeks.

"Where is your queen?" Kara asked.

"She appears when she's needed," her guide said. She gestured toward a door that led to the floor below. "Come, let me show you where you may rest before supper."

She led Kara through the cellar to the rooms beyond.

"The bath house is behind the keep, fed by the hot springs in the mountains. It's busiest in the evening before supper, but if you visit tomorrow, early in the day, you won't have to wait as long."

The thought of a warm bath, of getting the salt of seawater from her skin, appealed to Kara and would be worth the wait, but she focused on her guide.

Halfway down a short hall with several simple wooden doors, they stopped before an open one. The room was small, with a bed and a chair. It had no hearth, but the warmth of the keep filled its walls.

"I'm afraid it's not much, but it's clean and dry." Her guide seemed almost apologetic.

It had been weeks since Kara had slept indoors, and years since Kara had slept on anything but a pallet on the floor.

A gentle touch pressed against her arm.

"Remember what I said, traveler. You're safe here." Her guide turned to leave.

"My name is Kara."

The woman stopped, eyes bright and pleased. "Welcome, Kara. Should you require anything, ask for Lena."

After a bath in water so hot, it reddened Kara's skin, she returned to find the hall in the midst of the evening meal. The great room was full with everyone Kara had seen this day, from the guards to the villagers to the children and the woman who had guided Kara to her room.