Thursday, September 30, 2004
Day Eight
Memree has settled into my life quite casually, somehow there has never, since we first left that dungeon, been any question of her not being with me. It's a shame that Saster and Wren seem to have used the money from our deer-hunt a few days back...I nearly said a few weeks back, so much has happened since then...to move on out of Redwall, I think she'd have got on well with them, as she does with Delinda and Loji. I must take her with me when I next visit Ashil. But anyway, my room here has become our room here, and it's all the better for it.
We attended Lord Restormel's funeral together, since I decided that his widow was unlikely to recognise a respectably dressed free woman as the near-naked slave who'd been caught up in the hunt for her husband. I wore my best sober trousers, as I had on that last visit to the townhouse, and we bought Memree a fine grey pleated skirt, reaching to mid-calf, and a knitted jacket, which she wore over one of my shirts.
In some ways funerals are a bit like weddings, I think - which may be some excuse for my actions later in the day. That and the drink! I just happened to be in the street when Torner, the castle guard who I'd bribed with Restormel money, ended his shift and headed into town, and I just happened to give him my most inviting smile and ask if he had his pikestaff with him. After which the two of us just happened to decide to share an upstairs room at one of the cleaner local taverns. After which, well, things happened, all right? He's a big man, is Torner, I've heard it said that his grandma was one-quarter orc, and while his teeth are perfectly human, well - he is large, excellently muscled, and terrifically male! He did have to have a little encouragement for the fourth, er, happening, but generally, he certainly knew how to treat this adventurer, and, two hours later, my body is still sending little purring messages to my brain. I left him asleep on the big, rumpled bed, made sure that he'd be woken in time for tomorrow's shift, and stolled back here.
Memree grinned when she saw me, and I grinned back, before almost falling over when I caught my foot on the edge of one of the rugs here. "Sorry - I think I may be just a little bit drunk", I said, as she sat me down on the bed.
"That's not just beer I can smell, Boss..." She pulled my boots off with more of a tug than is usually necessary. "My guess would be - Torner, the guard with the pikestaff?"
"A weapon he is very skilled with, for a frontal attack", I agreed, letting my whole body remember the events in question. "Good old Torner, the man deserved a bonus."
"Well you're not getting in our bed until you've had a good wash, so start getting undressed while I fetch some icy-cold water, Sera Meadows!"
The water she brought was actually pleasantly hot, and with some fragrant herb I didn't recognise in it. So now I'm clean and fresh, and just writing all this while my hair dries. And I think, Ser Magician-Librarian, that it is just about dry now, so another page of this book is completed.
We attended Lord Restormel's funeral together, since I decided that his widow was unlikely to recognise a respectably dressed free woman as the near-naked slave who'd been caught up in the hunt for her husband. I wore my best sober trousers, as I had on that last visit to the townhouse, and we bought Memree a fine grey pleated skirt, reaching to mid-calf, and a knitted jacket, which she wore over one of my shirts.
In some ways funerals are a bit like weddings, I think - which may be some excuse for my actions later in the day. That and the drink! I just happened to be in the street when Torner, the castle guard who I'd bribed with Restormel money, ended his shift and headed into town, and I just happened to give him my most inviting smile and ask if he had his pikestaff with him. After which the two of us just happened to decide to share an upstairs room at one of the cleaner local taverns. After which, well, things happened, all right? He's a big man, is Torner, I've heard it said that his grandma was one-quarter orc, and while his teeth are perfectly human, well - he is large, excellently muscled, and terrifically male! He did have to have a little encouragement for the fourth, er, happening, but generally, he certainly knew how to treat this adventurer, and, two hours later, my body is still sending little purring messages to my brain. I left him asleep on the big, rumpled bed, made sure that he'd be woken in time for tomorrow's shift, and stolled back here.
Memree grinned when she saw me, and I grinned back, before almost falling over when I caught my foot on the edge of one of the rugs here. "Sorry - I think I may be just a little bit drunk", I said, as she sat me down on the bed.
"That's not just beer I can smell, Boss..." She pulled my boots off with more of a tug than is usually necessary. "My guess would be - Torner, the guard with the pikestaff?"
"A weapon he is very skilled with, for a frontal attack", I agreed, letting my whole body remember the events in question. "Good old Torner, the man deserved a bonus."
"Well you're not getting in our bed until you've had a good wash, so start getting undressed while I fetch some icy-cold water, Sera Meadows!"
The water she brought was actually pleasantly hot, and with some fragrant herb I didn't recognise in it. So now I'm clean and fresh, and just writing all this while my hair dries. And I think, Ser Magician-Librarian, that it is just about dry now, so another page of this book is completed.
