Reiss glanced over at the guards still not giving the time of day to the women climbing the steps of power, but she felt a smile blooming in her stomach as she walked side by side with the Hero of Ferelden.
CHAPTER THIRTY
We'll Always Have The Kennels
"Didn't expect to find your armored butt dusting up my chairs this late into the morning," Renata chuckled. She stepped confidently across the stone floors, only the occasional knock of her wooden leg striking through the shoe breaking up her gait. Even the uneven and seemingly booby trapped floor covered in crates of produce didn't slow the cook down much.
Reiss slid her breakfast away and tried to smile, while the cook eyed up what was left and asked, "Not a fan of the eggs?"
"I fear they've gone off," Reiss admitted, trying to dig into her neck muscles. In truth, despite the sun having been up for a few hours, she was awake for even longer. The day began with a goodbye the King seemed to try to stretch out for as long as possible, followed by him dismissing her for the day because "I'm going to be trapped in a tiny room having every single problem in Ferelden shouted at me and for your own sake run, run as far as you can."
She could have headed out to the alienage, to find Lunet, to walk around outside the palace walls for awhile and try to get her lost bearings back, but instead Reiss threw her all into the bottles the Hero of Ferelden left for her. All of which she had no idea what to do with. The Inquisition never thought her of the right mind to learn about poisons, saving all that talk for their rogues and spies, and anywhere else Reiss served was going to try to keep a knife-ear as far from possible from something they could easily slip into a hated overseer's mug.
By dawn's light, she flagged down one of the accursed alchemists and asked if he could name off what was in each bottle. Barely glancing at them, the man shrugged and admitted that a few colors could be guessed at but in truth he had no way of knowing as each person's equipment would create differing levels of opacity and discoloration. She suspected that he was acting indifferent to her because of the ears, but also got the sense that Lady Amell was accurate and all the alchemists in Denerim couldn't find their assess in the middle of an ass storm.
Before setting out, the Hero was kind enough to organize the bottles based upon her idea of what was in each, but there were a good seven that she had no guess to bearing a chalk question mark. While Reiss couldn't easily slop seven bottles around on her person without people wondering, she had a different idea and took small samples upon a piece of vellum. Seven shades of wet tan to slightly-yellow wet dried upon the parchment but offered her no better ideas of what she was looking for.
By the time she threw in the towel, her stomach was famished, and the official breaking of the fast was long over. Luckily, Reiss knew how to sneak into the kitchens and gather her own food.
At her displeasure of the eggs, Renata yanked up the plate and gave a good whiff. "Whew, rather pungent," she said, causing Reiss to nod along. She hadn't even managed to get a forkful to her mouth before letting the entire mess clatter back to the plate. "Wait," the cook paused and drew the eggs deeper to her nose. "Maker take that little shit, the produce ain't gone over, Philipe's gettin' fancy and done tossed that fetid Orlesian cheese into the mix."
"You can tell?" Reiss was shocked. All she got was a sulphuric smell -- like the ripe end of a demon -- that pounded out all of her other senses until she got fresh air.
"Oh, aye, it's a subtle note under the...gah, horror. A nuttiness most miss unless they know what they're looking for," Renata smiled at her. Yanking the plate up, she scraped the eggs not into a slop bucket, but the very fire itself to send them back to the void from whence they came.
"I couldn't smell anything like that," Reiss said.
That earned her a proud shrug from the woman, "Got me a good nose. 'Bout the only reason anyone would put up with a gimpy cook shuffling back and forth in their kitchens. Helps me to notice when stuff's going to turn foul before it does. Almost none ever get sick on ol' Renata's cooking!" She tapped her wooden leg with the ol' shave and a haircut routine and returned to plucking up the recently received cargo to put to use for the castle's supper.
Reiss watched a moment uncertain if she should offer to help or not, when an idea struck her. "Renata?" The cook paused in tucking a bag of potatoes into the barrel to glance over. "Do you know anything about poisons?"
"Oh, yeah, 'course. Before this job I was working in a chateau, how I met Philipe. Long story. There was this fancy Orlesian wine drinker, what do they call 'em? Somnambulists? He's strutting around cock of the walk saying 'well this blend has top notes of lemon berry and nug curd while this red's clearly squeezed from grapes frozen during the winter of our Lady's Descent.' Blah blah blah, everyone's all real impressed the way only Orlesians can be.
"He passes around the glass so all of us can get a nose full, which means we're supposed to plug our ears and breathe it in like morons. Orlesians. And what do I smell mixed into that fancy, two hundred sovereign bottle? Rat poison, clear as day."
"Maker's breath, did you tell them?"
"Course. Not that they'd listen. The whole hoity-toity crowd split the bottle of rat poison and wound up coating the walls in vomit 'ours later. Served 'em right." She chuckled at the memory of suffering snobs, then turned to the bodyguard, "Why ya asking?"
"I was wondering," Reiss shifted to tug out her parchment, "if you could maybe smell any poison in these?"
"It's paper," Renata explained as if Reiss wasn't fully aware. "Fine," she willingly drug each scrap under her nose taking deep whiffs. "Mostly getting that mage potion they use, not sure what it is but there's that earthy like mushroom smell."
"Unexpected," Reiss said without saying the full of it. She couldn't make any true accusations seeing as how she had no proof and also no jurisdiction to go dragging alchemists in. If this went nowhere, at least she could turn the bottles over to Harding and let her deal with the mess while Reiss tried to not grow bored standing beside a door.
"Sorry dear," Renata pulled the parchment away from her nose and shrugged, "I ain't getting nothing out of it."
"Thank you for trying," Reiss said. She reached over to take the parchment away when the cook's eyes lit up.
"Wait a moment!" Renata sniffed madly at one spot on the left, then another on the far right. Her eyes screwed up tight as she took in a deeper breath and smacked her tongue. An idea struck and the cook folded the parchment in half so both of the stains could reach. "Now that one I know! It's blood bane, nasty stuff, strong odor unless you mask it."
"Say under a mage's earthy base potion," Reiss yanked out a piece of chalk and quickly circled both of the stains. So, it was an accident of combining the two after all. Or, two alchemists were in on it? Two plants? "You're certain that's what it is?"
"As much as a woman can be in this world. Used to use it to keep bears off the land. The ones who knew the smell stayed away."
"And the ones that didn't?" Reiss asked.
Renata brought both of her fists together and in a quick movement snapped something invisible in half. Maker's sake! Even if it was an accident someone should be brought in on negligent charges and kept far from their distillation equipment before there's an epidemic. Tucking the paper safely into her pocket, Reiss nodded again at the chef, "Thank you again, for helping."
"Always glad to, dearie," Renata smiled at her before her head whipped up and she shouted through the door, "Oi! You burrowing pillock! Get yer useless pantaloons in here!"
Philipe's shaggy brown head slid in with half of his body while he clung to the doorframe, "Me? What'd I do? Nothing, you can't pin nothing on me."
"I know you got into the private cheese reserves and wasted it on perfectly good eggs. If we have any nobles get sick..." Renata threatened, her finger drifting near his nose.
"Ain't no one gonna get sick, it's fancy stuff. Good for 'em, right?"
"Maker's blighted chair," she rolled her eyes at the mischief in the slight
ly ornery undercook. "Get back out there and muck up the tables."
"Already did," Philipe saluted as he perched upon a barrel. His wild eyes darted from his boss down to Reiss. "Nice to see you, ma'am. Did you both hear about that special healer they brought in? The one what saved the King's life?" He didn't wait for them to answer to dive right in to his news, "She's already left without so much as a medal pinning ceremony. I'd thought for sure rescuing royalty deserved a knighting or somefing like that."
Reiss glanced away at the thought of how she dubiously earned her title, while Renata banged a fist on the table, "Are you thick in the chowder? Don't you know who that was?"
That drew Reiss' out of her regret in an instant. In all the time the Hero was here, she kept glancing over at people wondering if and when someone would spot her, would slot it into place and give the woman that save the world the due she deserved. But none ever did, most of the servants even making a bare minimum for the person who was the reason they had a job much less a life.
Philipe shrugged, "A little brown mageling."
"Andraste's udders, she's the Commander's wife," Renata sighed.
"Cade's? I thought his wife was tall, and a ginger, and mute," Philipe stuttered, glancing around as if lost.
"Not that one, the Commander of the Inquisition."
Reiss blinked in surprise at that. While the King made occasional jokes and what seemed to be snide comments about a templar in Lady Amell's life she assumed it referred to her abbey and not the Commander, the one who passed down orders from on high. She never saw him much beyond the occasional furrowed brow and stomping boots when he'd dart in and out of barracks for inspections.
Sighing like a school girl who spotted her crush in the distance, Renata sat upon the bench beside the table and clasped her hands, "If I had that waiting back at home, I wouldn't waste my time on some stupid medal ceremony. Shit, I'd have skipped the time it took to saddle the horse."
"Maker's sake," Philipe rolled his eyes and jabbed a thumb at Reiss to add, "Women."
"You're just saying that 'cause you've never seen the man in person," Renata fanned her face with her hands. Reiss suspected she did it as much to annoy Philipe as to emphasize her point. "Tall enough to sweep you off your feet, with that brooding, growling face that gets all the right parts throbbing."
"Ugh," Philipe stuck his tongue out at the description which he bore no resemblance too. "Are all of you this bad?" he asked Reiss. "Don't tell me you've got the tingles for some old, ancient, crusty, geriatric army leader."
"I..." Reiss felt a blush rising up her cheeks that had nothing to do with the Commander. She'd never gone in much for the stoic type, often finding their tendency to stay quiet unnerving. What drew the embarrassment from her was the thought of how unlike the King that sounded, and how she far preferred his light hearted take on the world.
"You ain't gonna win this one, Philipe," Renata argued to him. "Every lady in thedas has their own copy of that sketch of the Commander stashed away somewhere."
"Sketch?" Reiss asked. She'd seen various portraits of the Inquisitor, a few of the advisors, and many artists adored painting Skyhold but never this fabled sketch of Commander Cullen.
"Oh yes, eyes blazing with that amber glare, shirtless save that furry coat he wore, sweat dripping down the good bits while gripping onto a sword and just a sliver of that scarred lip lifted up. Is it a sneer of anger, or is there lust under there? Who knows."
"All right, fine," Philipe leaped up off the barrel, "I'm done. I'm gone. You win!" he shouted, bowing deep at her in indignation. "Sexy sneering, sweaty, bah!" he took it not well while storming out.
"I should go as well," Reiss said, "oh but, do you mind if I snatch up a few bites of that pork?"
"Take whatever you want," Renata smiled while Reiss loaded up for Sylaise. She'd been unable to attend to the cat for weeks and was going to need a proper sized bribe. "And I'll be sure to get you a copy of the sketch later."
"Ah," Reiss tried to not panic at the thought of her in possession of something so perverse that happened to be of the Hero of Ferelden's husband. Pretty much no one she wanted to impress would be happy for it. "Thank you?" she stuttered out while sliding out of the kitchen.
Outside of the stables she stumbled into the half elf who all but ran the thing. The real horsemaster was often drifting about, making deals and doing other things that required her to be as far from the animals and their shit as possible. Apparently she was some kind of genius when it came to breeding schemes and pricing horses but despised everything else that came with them. Whoever thought to promote her to the position either had a great sense of humor or despised the woman. Reiss wasn't certain which as she never technically met her.
It was Jaylen who was her only connection. A few other servants on occasion were called in to deal with an overabundance of noble horse shit during the summit and if anyone really high up stopped by, but with the palace clearing of it all only he greeted her.
"Good morning," Reiss called, stopping outside the barn proper to wave at him.
He patted the whither of a tan horse, which flicked her tail in annoyance and butted her nose into him for such impudence, but the man didn't mind. That smile that never seemed to dim lifted higher as he waved to her. "Is it morning still? Thought for certain we slipped to afternoon," Jaylen glanced up at the sun and stared at it as if it would grace him with the time.
"Can I head in to visit with Sylaise?" Reiss asked, trying to draw him away.
"Oh sure, sure. Got it mostly mucked, your cat's probably nosing around with the dogs again. She seems to love swiping their food when they're not looking."
"Is she going hungry?" Reiss startled, feeling a nerve pinch in her stomach at the fear. It'd be all her fault in that case.
"Nah, nah, she's a good mouser. Way better than the fat tom what's lazing about in the sun," he pointed at a striped orange cat stretched as far as his body could to soak in all the heat. Reiss absently tugged at the metal she in retrospect didn't need to dress in. Summer was quick on the horizon and it was looking to be a bad one.
Jaylen snickered at the lazy cat and tipped his hat back to give his full attention to the woman standing in the shade, "I think she likes the challenge of stepping up to the big dogs and taking something they want. Just to see if she can."
"A true elf then," Reiss said. She meant it to be to herself, but Jaylen paused in his raking of the trampled grounds. Cursing at herself, the shame died as the man's shoulders began to pivot with a laugh building to bursting inside.
A few giggles escaped before he shook his smiling face and shrugged, "My mam would say the same." Reiss had no idea which in his lineage was which, though she'd often heard that human father to elf mother was more accepted. Any human woman that took up with an elf was considered desecrated and unholy, with a few other assumptions that she chased weak men because she was in denial about her true passions.
Not that the thought would do her any good, she chastised herself. The 'more accepted' was minuscule at best. They'd run you out of town compared to hang you from the branches of the vhendal tree. And yet, Jaylen never wavered from his smile, was kind to any who crossed his path and seemed most at home with the horses. Maybe because he didn't fit in anywhere else.
"If you head in, could you close up the door behind you?" he interrupted Reiss' musings. "Ol' Corwoofeus has been undoing the lock on his kennel and sneaking out."
"Corwoofeus?" Reiss sneered.
"Three guesses who named that one," Jaylen chuckled, holding up his entire hand just in case she needed more.
"I don't need any, and I shall," she smiled and dipped into the empty barn. With all the horses outside, Jaylen kept the windows closed causing an impenetrable heat to buildup inside the wooden structure. Absently, Reiss shrugged inside her armor quickly heating up fast and transferring it to her body below.
No horses waited inside, all of them roaming through the fenced in meadow the palace maintained. It was ten
times the green that the Alienage had, a fact Reiss tried to not think about. "Sylaise?" she called out, even knowing that her cat was most likely rooming in the kennels. Was it possible for cats to have death wishes because that seemed to be Sylaise, always sticking her nose and paw in places it didn't belong without a care for any warnings.
Clopping over the wooden boards, Reiss stood in the doorway to the kennels where a few of the dogs slumbered for the afternoon in a pile. Jaylen must have moved the slots so they could mix between and have more room while the rest were probably out on a hunt or trailing their favorite human. It was a constant flux of which dog was where, on occasion leading her to find three or four crouching under a table in the kitchens waiting for scraps to fall.
"Sylaise?" Reiss called, trying to peer through the lumbering shadows to find her damn cat hiding amongst the lingering grey. A soft mewling broke above her and she spotted the kitty traipsing through the straw and hayloft above all their heads. "Maker's sake, cat, what are you doing up there?"
For her part, Sylaise lazily dipped her tail back and forth off the hang while reclining upon her side. Those yellow eyes watched Reiss as she shook her head and tried to find a way up to her cat. There was a ladder on the other end, but...
"All right, I'm done!" Reiss cried to herself as she felt a line of sweat drip off her shoulders and straight down the middle of her back. With one eye on the cat in no mood to move, she undid all the internal buckles upon her breast plate -- tossing it to the ground -- followed by the gauntlets, the greaves and finally the armored boots. Dressed in the simple crimson under tunic and half calf breeches, she savored the wind ruffling her billowy clothes as a breeze broke from the slots above.
Her naked toes dug deep into the kennel floor, Reiss trying to eye up any surprise dog turds, but Jaylen was great about scrubbing it down from top to bottom. After kicking her pile of metal to the side, she stomped towards the ladder on the far side of the room while keeping an eye on her cat. "If you won't come down to greet me, then I'm going to come to you," she tried to make it sound like a threat but it sounded more as if Reiss was subjugating herself to the kitty. So powerful Reiss, truly it's a wonder people don't bow down from your glory.
Love's Blush Page 47
