Kratz

24

                Of all the buildings in the village, Howard's home was perhaps the finest. Although it was the oldest. Marcus, Howard's late father, had built it near what many considered the end of the war. There his father had raised Howard and his younger sister Sara while commanding the rebel militia. Marcus' wife had passed not long after Sara's birth.

The home was cozy, to say the least. All sides were covered with vines climbing the exterior. It sat slightly on a tilt and the roof appeared ready to retire. Besides the outside being of poor quality, it was spacious and had a total of three rooms. Two bedrooms and a main room for dining, the fireplace, and anything else. Which was all considerably grander than the other huts that lined the street.

When Bas arrived, he would immediately notice the wide array of scrolls, pamphlets, and books on a small table. Any form of text was rare. He recalled that Cleo only had two books at the estate. Lying next to the assorted texts were a couple large maps. As he waited for Howard and his wife to finish dinner he walked over to the table. Curiously investigating its contents. Howard had spoken little since his arrival that evening and instead busied himself setting the table. His wife moved the food to the dinner table and cleaned simultaneously. She was unlike Howard in many ways. Only wearing a black gown and a linen caul, that drooped slightly over her forehead. A frail woman who was quite pale. Bas knew she was probably quite familiar with the interior of the home.

The books were texts primarily about battle strategy, morals, and battleground rules. Several were signed by Marcus, who Bas assumed wrote most of them. But quite a few were not. The paper on some was incredibly old, perhaps several hundred years. It was shocking to Bas that Howard had such things in his possession.

"Quite a collection is it not?" asked someone behind him. Bas turned from the table to see who. The voice had been unrecognizable, but he knew it to be a woman. At first, he assumed it was Howard's wife, who hadn't spoken since he'd arrived. Instead it was a different woman. Younger, healthier, brighter. She wore a simple tunic like Bas and had long black hair that flowed down over her chest. Her face was naturally kind, but her eyes were intelligent.

"Indeed," Bas nodded. The woman offered a hand, which Bas took.

"What do they call you?" she asked while Bas kissed her hand.

"Bas," he said, "and yourself?"

"Sara, sister of Howard, daughter of Marcus the Brave." Every detail of her appeared soft to Bas. She reminded him of Cleo but was far younger. A voice of confidence, and young eyes full of wisdom.

"We may feast now," Howard clapped his hands. Sara and Bas both turned immediately and walked to the dinner table to join them. Howard and his wife were already seated and eating away. Bas would sit next to Howard while Sara sat across from him and next to his wife.

They ate carrots and lamb. The lamb was cooked by Howard's wife. Slaughtered from Howard's own small collection of sheep he kept tied to the house. Bas found the meal quite appetizing but couldn't help from being distracted. There was much he was curious about. The writings, the people, the community. He had a long list of questions, but he remained silent. Cleo had taught him proper etiquette was to wait for the homeowner to begin conversation. He also felt it was important to be polite. Howard was happy to begin talking once he cleared his plate, which didn't take long.

"Might I ask what they had you do out west?" Howard asked, looking at Bas. His sharp eyes studied his guest intensely.

"Very little," Bas said quietly. He kept his own eyes on his plate. Privately, he feared what they would think if he told them the truth.

"Very little? A field man then?"

"Nay. A guard," Bas said even quieter.

"Do tell more," Howard pressed. Bas looked up from his plate to see all three of them were now looking at him with great curiosity. Their eyes were like beams cutting through Bas' composure.