Kaylan stood at the top of the staircase listening to the commotion that emanated from the common room.  She could not discern any specific topics but was quite positive she was one of them.  The voices sounded distressed and the rise and fall of the voices was both frenzied and hypnotic.  Several sounded just this side of panicked.  Kaylan descended the stairs slowly to see if she could pick up any tidbits before she entered the common room.  As soon as she appeared, though, the room grew ominously silent.  All previous conversations came to an immediate halt.  You could not even hear the person next to you breathing they were so quiet. 

She sat down at the table using the chair L’Aryk indicated was hers with a wave of his hand.  He was the one that served her meal.  While he was rather efficient, he did not waste time or effort on pleasantries.  He set a plate of meat smothered in gravy, a few slices of cheese, two thick slabs of bread coated with goat butter and boiled cabbage in front of her.  Nothing on her plate looked terribly appetizing but the rumble in her belly let her know she was eating it anyway.  Just then, L’Aryk cleared his throat, “The elders are all here.  We don’t have very many council members left, madam.  Was there anything further with which I could be of assistance?”

“Not at the moment.  No.  You’ve done well. Thank you.”  There was no emotion in her voice but she was calm which in turn gave him a semblance of momentary peace.

Kaylan took a bite of the greasy meat that was swimming in the thick gravy on her plate.  She was not aware to what breed of animal the meat belonged but she was convinced she didn’t really want to know.  The meat was tough and gamey but the spices of the gravy provided a succulent flavor that made the meal more enjoyable.  She made the people in the room shuffle uncomfortably as she ate her supper.  She did not want them to be comfortable.  She wanted them on edge – at least until she could separate the troublemakers from those more willing to provide assistance.

She took that opportunity to observe and evaluate each person that was in the room.  The first was a frail older gentleman with long fingers and a long pointy nose.  He was a leathery man that seemed to have sunbaked far longer than he should have.  He obviously spent long hours outdoors for he had, by far, the darkest skin tone of those present.  He might have been a gardener or perhaps the tanner.  With such dark skin it was difficult to see the typical discoloration of the fingertips that most tanners had or earth trapped under the nail beds indicative of a farmer or gardener.  Standing next to him was a younger man with the same leather-look but his skin tone was more olive than bronze.  This young man was not one of the elders but he stood in front of the old man as if to protect him from whatever evil might befall him. 

Next in line was a brute of a fellow, broad of shoulders and chest with hands large enough to crush a man’s skull.  His forearms were as thick as his upper arms and seemed to add a foot or two to his width.  His bald head appeared to rest directly on top of his shoulders for his thick neck blended with his shoulders.  His bloody apron labeled him as the local butcher.  Kaylan decided this was not a man she wanted to tangle with and would avoid a confrontation with him at all possible cost.

The old woman next to the butcher was slender with a petite frame.  She appeared extremely fragile in the shadow of the beast of a man to her right.  However, her aged face revealed years of practical wisdom that belied any level of delicacy she may have had.  She had a confidence in her bearing that suggested she had previous experience with Marshalls. Her demeanor also indicated she was not in favor of this meeting. Kaylan was sure that, of the six people in front of her, this woman had the most to say.  She was just as sure that none of it was pleasant.

The portly woman seated next to the ancient one had a round face that dimpled when she spoke.  Her neck had several layers that rested one upon the next with her round head on the topmost layer.  She wheezed when she breathed which seemed to require major effort on her part.  She sat in a chair the innkeeper had provided.  Kaylan surmised it was provided due to the woman’s large size causing difficulty to stand for any length of time.  The wax drips on her bodice suggested she was the village’s wicker.  Kaylan had heard in other villages that the oil reserves in the mountain areas were low and the need for wickers was great.  However, she could not figure how this woman managed to complete the process of wicking when it appeared problematic for her to move.  Kaylan just shook her head in silent pity for the woman.

The last elder was a stocky gentleman that looked proportioned in spite of his short stature.  Nothing about him was remarkable – which, in and of itself, was remarkable.  He was a rather plain fellow with little to no expression.  It was almost as if he was in a daze but he did not appear to be drunk or stupefied.

Kaylan pushed her plate away as she finished sopping up the gravy with the last slab of bread.  She leaned back casually in her chair, propping her booted foot on the table leg.  “I’m interested in information about a particular individual that spent some time in this area, off and on, in the past.  He happens to be a rather important part of the Marshall family history but there is very little recorded information about him,” she purposely left out the specifics of time and names as she was still evaluating her prospects.  She wanted the information but would prefer to get it without … persuasion.  She steadied her gaze on each, individually.  Then she stood slowly.  She noticed, as she stood, the younger of the two leathery men moved more protectively in front of the elder.  She locked her gaze with his and walked over to him.

Her smirk did not change as she positioned herself directly in front of the defensive young man.  Upon closer observation he appeared to possibly be younger than his weathered skin displayed.  She thought, at first, he was in his mid to late thirties but looking at him closer he seemed to be in his late twenties, thirty at the latest.  Age made no difference, though, when it came to defying a Marshall.  “Do you have a problem?” she asked him threateningly.

He immediately straightened his posture which Kaylan thought was due to a realization that he had stepped out of line.  To her dismay, however, it was simply because he was too ignorant to know any better.  His arrogance came flowing out of his mouth as soon as he opened it.  “As a matter of fact – I do.  You don’t have any right to come in here scaring defenseless old men and women into thinking they have to tell you anything,” he said vehemently.  The elders all gasped at his audacity but Kaylan’s glare dared them to move.  He’s got spirit and a desire to protect his own, I’ll give him that.  But he should have been taught to know his place.  Standing up to me is not it.  Kaylan sighed internally for she had not wanted this to happen.  She had hoped to avoid a confrontation with the butcher but she had not anticipated to have any opposition from this cocky pup.  Kaylan grinned wickedly and drew her sword allowing the entire length of the blade to scrape against the honing stone she had situated at the top of her scabbard.  The grating sound of metal sharpening against stone seemed to unnerve everyone – everyone except this brash young man.

She allowed a sinister snigger to escape her throat as she placed her sword tip under the man’s chin tracing his jawline with it.  “Is that so?” she asked almost purring at him.  “I am so glad you think I have no ‘right’ to inquire of your elders for information of which I am sure they have plenty to share,” she followed his jawline with her sword tip to his throat then down to the hollow where his collar bones met.  There she rested her sword tip and raised the hilt until the sword was parallel with the ground.  “What you must understand, my good man, is that I do have the ‘right’ to inquire whatever, whenever, however, and from whomever I choose.  Regrettably for you, someone has been negligent in your education of the courtesies warranted the King’s Marshall.”  Her voice was soft and calm which just added to the chill that had suddenly settled in the room.  Just as Kaylan readied herself to drive the sword to the back of his spine, the old petite woman stepped forward.

“Madam Marshall,” she said in a gravelly voice, “please Madam, his father is mute and we have not fulfilled our responsibilities as a community to teach him these courtesies.  You have our deepest apologies for our failure.”  Kaylan took a sidelong glance at her without removing her sword point from the man’s throat.  The woman’s pleading did not seem as much a plea for the young man’s life as it was a confession and plea for the elders’ lives.  “I know of what you seek,” she whispered almost inaudibly.  Had she not been standing so close, Kaylan might not have even heard it.  For a moment Kaylan wasn’t quite sure that the woman had in fact said it at all.

The sweat beads that had formed on the young man’s forehead were now traveling down his temples to his neck and then pooling in the same hollow shared by her sword.  He swallowed hard as he kept an eye on Kaylan who was glaring at the old woman.

Kaylan sneered at the scared man then spun her sword to the old woman that had spoken so boldly.  “That’s perfect,” Kaylan whispered in the cold silence.  “Let’s go take a walk to rectify that failure, shall we?” she said in an even colder tone.

The young man gasped and started toward her but Kaylan stopped him short with her sword tip at his throat again.  “Don’t even think about it, Boy,” she threatened emphasizing “Boy” through clenched teeth, “or you will be next.”  Kaylan grabbed the woman’s arm and forced her out the front door into the chill night air.  The door closed behind them with an ominous thud and with it the volume of multiple voices increased dramatically from within the room to ring out into the vast silence.