Glyph

Chapter 1

 Dirk woke to find grey light streaming through the crystal windows set in the roof. The irregular shape of the crystal distorted the light, throwing strange shapes against the wall. Glass would remedy this, of course, but the inn would never be able to afford such a rare and expensive commodity.

Dirk stared upwards for a while before stumbling out of the warm cocoon of blankets. It was summer, but despite that, the wooden floors were cold under his bare feet. Yawning, he walked over to a trunk in the corner and began to rummage blearily through it in a search for clothing. He settled on a green linen shirt and brown cotton pants that both looked clean.

Yawning again, he ran a wooden comb quickly through his hair with water from the basin, then headed down to breakfast.

At the inn, breakfast was served in a large common room. The man who owned the inn, Crowley had made an arrangement with Dirk's brother, Brienus, who paid for his room and board.

As usual, breakfast was composed of steamed wheat sweetened with only the slightest hint of honey. Crowley's wife, Martha, also plunked down a large wooden mug of milk in front of Dirk. Dirk smiled and nodded once to the woman before digging in.

The few other patrons in the room looked to be regulars, older men with no wives to cook for them. 

Down the long table from him sat a group of three of them speaking in low, intense voices. Dirk only recognized one of them, Eachann. He scooted closer to them to join the conversation.

At his arrival, the two not speaking nodded to him. He nodded back. Eachann apparently did not notice his presence and went on speaking.

"What I heard was, they saw her practicing the magic but came later to arrest her, at her house. And the Chairman, when he heard the accusations, just let them take her." He nodded, clearly proud of his information.

"Someone took DeGrey's daughter?," Dirk asked. He slurped a mouthful of the hot mash.

Eachann glanced at him. "The Inquisition, lad. Took her for being a witch." Dirk blinked in surprise. The Inquisitors reported directly to the king, but it was rare that they took anyone as a witch. There simply were too few witches. And the fact that they took the daughter of the Chairman of Highridge! Perhaps they were trying to make a point.

One of the other men broke in. "I don't believe that rumor about the Chairman standing aside for a second, Eachann. DeGrey's always been fair and he's certainly got no love for the Inquisitors. From what I've heard, he loves his daughter more than anything, too."

Eachann nodded. "I've heard the same. But if his daughter was a witch, I reckon he'd be none too pleased. 'Sides, there ain't no way to stop the Inquisitors."

The two other men nodded sagely. Eachann sighed. "Well, I best be heading out to the fields." 

The other men grunted their assent.

They left quickly. Dirk stared down at the bowl, spooning the last few bits of the grain into his mouth. He grabbed the milk and drained it. Swinging his legs over the bench, he headed over to the kitchen to deliver the crockery.

"Thank you," he said to Martha as he passed the bowl and mug over to her. The woman's plump cheeks dimpled as she smiled. 

"My pleasure, Dirk. You know you're the only one of this lot to bring over the dish when you're done."

Dirk smiled; she told him everyday. "Well I try to help you out, Martha."

"Aren't you sweet?," Martha said, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Dirk headed to the exit, pushing open the heavy wooden door. He blinked as sunlight nearly blinded him. His leather boots made soft clacks as they connected with the cobblestone road.