Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (part 20)

"That's fine! We should have a story circle soon, then."

Ky smiled and nodded. "I'd like that very much. I missed them!"

Anneliese grinned, pleased.

(Time skip! Guess what, I wasn't nearly as productive as I should have been )

Dawn, if it could be called that, was cracking over the trees as the little caravan of sleighs whisked over the final hill toward Bear Keep. It was a welcome sight, constructed with the broad stones and obtuse angles typical of Northern architecture with fires crackling in a few small windows. It was a sight Shea missed. They had been there many times before and the night had been a long, cold, and bumpy one even with the hot water bottle warming their swollen feet. Their headwrap had come undone in the night with all their tossing and turning, too, so their head was freezing. Shea’s back had also flared up. In short, they were only just awakening and the only welcome sight for them as they awoke was their manservant, Forrest, sitting across from the recliner seat with two cups of coffee in his hands.
“Thought you could do with a drink,” he said with a smile, offering them one of the cups. Shea waited for the sleigh to go over a nasty bump, then took it carefully and sipped daintily.
“You know me so well, my darling,” they said. “How far out are we?”
“I saw the towers as we went over the last hill,” Forrest replied. “We should be there in a matter of minutes.”
“Splendid.” They sat up, groaning as their back twinged. “Oh, damn everything. I pray the ladies Barraster don’t expect us to take breakfast with them after such a long journey. All I want to do is sleep! Are the others up yet?”
“I believe Reputation Gowan is still asleep.”
Shea opened their arm and a rush of cold air swept against their chest as the blanket fell off. Forrest readily slid his twiggy body into the quilts and comforters beside them with his coffee clasped in both hands and leaned his graying head against Shea’s wide shoulder. “Then we’ve got a little time to relax,” they said with a contented sigh. “When we get in to the chambers I’m going to need one hell of a back massage, though.”
Forrest chuckled. “Your wish is my command.”
---
On the second floor of Bear Keep nestled deep in the blankets of a massive four poster bed, the ladies Barraster were stirring. It was true that Constance was more cub than bear in size, but was she lacked in height she made up for in breadth and volume. Her snores vibrated both pillows and made it near impossible to have one’s head anywhere near her. Arianna had taken to sleeping beneath a pillow and two blankets while still entwining her arms with her spouse, but even after nine years of marital bliss she was still startled awake at random intervals in the night. The compromise, since the pillow was only marginally effective, was to import some very expensive coffee from Austraka and drink a cup or two of that every morning. That being said, Arianna was something of a night owl and could run on only a few hours of sleep for quite awhile. It was a gift she no longer took for granted after marrying Connie.
She had been awake for about twenty minutes before Constance’s eyes opened. Nothing in particular had woken her; for once she had risen out of dreaming of her own accord and lay for a time looking at her wife’s silhouette in the darkness and listening to her comically loud snoring. They’d received a rather concerning letter from Gaius a few days ago warning them to reconfigure their troop formation on the eastern border of Fangholm, which had kept Constance awake two nights in a row. He hadn’t explained his reasoning well, for one, and there was something strange about the letter’s tone. The writing was distracted and the handwriting was shaky–a red flag if ever there was one–but his signature was clear enough and the letter had borne his seal. So Arianna and Constance were left to debate what exactly this meant for them. If they went through with it immediately they could be making a massive mistake. If they waited and sent a letter to confirm the suggestion, they’d be losing precious time. It didn’t seem like Gaius was unwell, not exactly, but his letters were usually so precise and focused. Arianna had each exchange between the Barrasters and Ashes filed neatly away in one of the archives, and she could count on one hand the times she’d gotten a letter from Sara instead of Gaius or his handwriting and tone had deviated in any way. He was a consistent man just as Arianna was a consistent woman. Inconsistency bothered both of them. So what was going on?
There was a soft knock on the door, and Constance groaned. Arianna sat up, resting her hand in her wife’s hair. “Who is it?” she asked clearly, and this time Constance rolled over onto her back and sat up reluctantly.
“It’s Yngr, milady. The Essian delegation has just been sighted coming over the hill. Would you like us to welcome them in when they arrive?”
“Yes, please,” Constance called as Arianna got out of bed. “We’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“They’re early,” Arianna said, pulling out a warm gown for herself. “They’re never early.”
“It’s a serious business, this war.” Constance heaved a sigh and followed her wife, bunching her hair behind her shoulders. “And it’s so early! Couldn’t they have stopped for the night and come a bit later in the day?”
“Essians aren’t particularly considerate of the needs of others, in my recollection,” Arianna responded drily. “Not the Reputations, anyway.”

Rana had had enough of this stupid region with their stupid weather and their stupid snow and stupid wind. Her face was chapped all to hell and ached all moments of the day. Including now. As she sat wrapped in furs and blankets, glaring out the window and wondering if Keeps were warm or if she’d just be cold until she died.

By the time the sleighs reached the gates of Bear Keep, Shea had gotten themselves dressed in a presentable but casual enough manner that they could get right back into bed at a moment’s notice. They were now sitting up on the seat, a fur chapka from a previous visit pulled firmly onto their head with the earflaps down to keep them warm.
Arianna and Constance took their time dressing. Both of them knew Essians had a low tolerance for heavy travel and even lower tolerance for the harsh winters. No need to look too formal–the Reputations would want to sleep before they talked strategy. Arianna had sent down orders for a quick but filling breakfast to be prepared–herring and onions, lichen bread and rosemary butter, some lingon jam and hot coffee. She and Constance arrived down at the main entrance a few minutes before breakfast was ready, dressed in warm bear coats since the sun’s few hours of weak rays had not yet heated the air. Arianna, sharp-faced and with her nose reddened by the cold, watched as the gates opened to admit the entourage.
The first to clamber out of the roofed sleighs was a small, spindly man Arianna knew to be Reputation Ennen’s servant and bedmate. His name didn’t come to her now, but she remembered he spoke no Upper Tongue. Next was Reputation Ennen themself, helped out of the carriage by the former. Their look was underdone compared to how they usually looked; only a chapka adorned their head rather than the usual massive wig and their dress had obviously been chosen for convenience and comfort rather than style. Their face was, however, lightly powdered and they’d taken the time to kohl their eyes and eyebrows before getting out.
“Lady Constance,” they greeted in Upper Tongue, red-faced and limping as they approached the steps. Arianna noted their shoes were properly reinforced for the snow. “Lady Arianna. Warmest greetings to you.”
“And to you, Reputation Ennen.” Constance descended the stairs to grasp Ennen’s jewel-encrusted hand. “I hope your journey was easy.”
“Easy?” Arianna’s eyes flicked toward the source of the new voice to see Reputation Gowan wriggling out of the sleigh, still wrapped in blankets. “Certainly not, your ladyship, certainly not.” He dipped into a swift bow and straightened. Constance shook his hand, and Arianna joined her on the ground to greet the Reputations. “It snowed harder yesterdy alone than I think it ever has on any of our trips up here. Two of our guards are a toe short now!” He didn’t wait for a response, whipping his wigless head around. “Rana! Lia! Come meet the Ladies Barraster.”

Rana had taken the time to put herself as together as she ever looked, willingly. Somewhat willingly, anyhow. She’d lightly powdered her face in an attempt to hide the wind burned flesh but she wasn’t sure it actually helped anything. She also had brushed her hair so that it fell around her shoulders in loose ringlets. She’d considered a hat, then thought better of it. Best to put her best foot forward when she met the Ladies of the territory. She could always add layers if her assumption that they’d be whisked inside to warmth turned out to be incorrect.

She was wearing an elegant but simple gown reinforced with much fleece and fur and thick enough to cover the long underwear she had layered on multiple times over hidden beneath.

She looked beautiful. It was disgusting. She hated it. And hated this place already. And was hungry and cold and cranky. And hearing her father’s prattling voice did nothing to soothe her distemper. Still. She knew what was at stake. Best to fawn and get it over with rather than incur any more of his wrath.

She looked across the aisle at Lia, who was bundled up in so many furs she was barely visible. Her eyes, wide and anxious, peered back at Rana but the rest of her face was hidden.

“Ready?” Rana asked quietly.

Lia nodded. Well, Rana was pretty that’s what that particular quiver of the blanket mound meant.

Rana nodded and stepped out of the carriage, turning to help Lia down as well. She took the opportunity to glance around, taking in the scene and watching the Ladies out of the corner of her eye, though she very carefully did not make eye contact with them. Yet.

Once Lia was on the ground and seemed steady enough Rana was reasonably convinced she wouldn’t topple over, she took a deep breath and turned towards the others with a smile as she strode towards them, back ruler straight. Lia tottered after her like a top-heavy penguin.

The young girls who stepped out of the sleigh certainly looked out of their depth. This was, Arianna understood, their first trip to the North and it showed. Most rich Easterners who came up here for the first time bore the same wind-shocked expressions when they visited, disgruntled and battered by the rough terrain in a way they were unused to. Cream and silk was all their hands knew. The girl in front had plastered on a performative smile–a real sign of her upbringing. Arianna didn’t return the smile; she never made behavioral accommodations when greeted on her own terrain. This was the North, after all. To smile so readily was to admit vulnerability. Constance, on the other hand, met both girls with a wide grin that masked her exhaustion. She’d explained the cultural differences many times to Arianna–the idea of acting disarming so as not to intimidate foreign visitors–but it was lost on her.

“My daughters,” Gowan said with an apathetic gesture toward them, also speaking Upper Tongue. “Rana Gowan and Lia Gowan. Girls, this is Lady Constance Barraster and her wife, Lady Arianna.” Arianna dipped her head to them, sizing the girls up. The one Reputation Gowan had pointed out as Rana looked tired but sharp and observant, maybe headstrong. Lia looked out of her depth bundled up in all those warm clothes, definitely anxious about something.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Constance spoke in Upper Tongue and held out her hand for the girls to shake. “Welcome to the North! I hope you’ll find the people here more hospitable than the weather.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Rana took her hand and shook it firmly, nodding to her. “I’m sure we will. We appreciate your warm reception.” Rana offered her hand to Arianna next.

“How do you do?” Lia bobbed into an attempted curtsy, dropping her gaze as she took Constance’s hand to shake it timidly.

Arianna shook Rana’s hand. “Welcome.”

“I do very well.” Constance grasped Lia’s hand and gave it a solid shake. “You speak some Upper Tongue, I see?”

Barely, Arianna guessed. She’d heard the girl stumble over the greeting and expected her vocabulary was limited. This other one, though, seemed to have a grasp on it.

“I hope you’re not expecting us to be too chatty this early in the morning, my dears,” Shea interrupted. “I’ve had next to no sleep and I’d love a good breakfast, but after that I’m off to have a good long nap.”

“Naturally.” Arianna turned her attention to the Reputation. “We’ve prepared a small spread for you all, a traditional Northern meal.” She looked back at Rana. “I hope you like fish?”

Lia was grateful for Shea’s assist. She wasn’t sure what they’d said but it seemed to get the attention off her, which was good.

“Yes ma’am.” Rana nodded to her with a little smile. “Lia and I are…” shit what was the word? Surely she knew the word for excited… eager? Bloody hell, there had to be a word she knew. Wait, she remembered— “Anxious? To try different dishes up here. I’m sure it will be delicious.”

"I'm glad to hear that," Constance said, glancing over at them. Arianna made eye contact with her without expression; she knew her wife well enough to know she got the message. "Shall we get inside, then? The servants can help with the bags, but I'm sure you're all cold."
"I thought you'd never ask." Shea bustled past them, patting Constance and Arianna on the shoulders. "Let's go, then, we can't dilly dally."
"They're right," Gowan said with a tired nod. "Come on, girls, let's get inside."

“Yes, Father,” Lia murmured, snuggling up close to him.

Rana nodded obediently as well, following behind as she took the opportunity to really glance around and take in the setting.

Compared to the extravagant marble and gold palaces of the Eastern Realm elite, the Barrasters’ Keep was no elegant affair at all. Made of roughly-carved sedimentary rock and furnished with sturdy but unadorned outer walls, it suggested this culture was more concerned with practicality than aesthetic.
That being said, the Keep was imposing up close and at a distance. Guards could be seen on every wall, and within the wide-open courtyard there were soldiers training and quite a few warmly-dressed servants running to and from their various tasks.

The steps up to the Keep were low and numerous, much to Shea’s pleasure. Their gouty leg didn’t handle steep stairs well at all. Constance and Arianna were right behind her and Forrest was at her side as a pair of servants heaved the wooden doors open.

What an austere setting. Rana was careful to keep her expression completely neutral as she glanced around. She supposed it made sense, after all. She doubted they got many traveling merchants all the way up in this frigid wasteland. It would make sense that all they had was functional.

Or, perhaps the inside would be more inviting. Maybe outside anything beautiful would simply freeze and shatter away into nothingness. She felt like she was on the verge of that herself. Freezing and shattering. She was one sneeze away from turning to dust and floating away.

She did her best to focus on getting a glimpse of inside, wishing the party would move faster. She could have been inside where it was warm twice over in the amount of time this was taking.