I was able to support myself relatively well after getting up from the bed, those around me almost offered a hand when I first hobbled, but retracted them as they saw my condition as fine.
"You recover quickly." Abern noted.
"Miraculously so, you were all bloodied up when we saw you first, and you were given no assisting magecraft to help you either in recovery either, strange." Bealla speaks with suspicion once more.
I can't get a read on her, it isn't a malicious 'I'm going to cut your head off if you're lying' suspicion, it's as more akin to a mother figuring out which child spilled the water on the television.
The dried hay gave out satisfying crunches as I was politely whisked into the doorway by the escorting force of four, and out into the chilly open air of a courtyard.
High and sturdy stone walls enveloped us on all sides, armoured guards slowly patrolled around the tops of them. The wall confidently towered, as if it knew it was a safety net to all who lived inside it.
As I got a better look around the place, I noticed we were strolling past a large formation of men and women, all repeatedly swinging mock-wooden swords downwards, shouting upon lowering them. It looked like any old-era military drill we had in my world, but it was rather surreal seeing it done with swords in real life.
And if they were training warriors, it either meant peace was not present, or it was on the fringes, I swallowed my sorrow at how many we have lost in the very same fickle pursuit of false peace, using such armies to do so, this lamenting causes me to space out and I am gently nudged by my shoulder from Bealla to continue onwards.
I notice Abern run off to assist a sluggish trainee with their sword-swinging endeavours.
"Make sure he stays out of trouble Bealla!" He shouts behind him as he sprints towards the formation.
"Lazy bastard!" She calls out after him, mimicking his shouting tone.
Though this clearly doesn't reach Abern, as he is already passing on passionate instructions to the overwhelmed recruit.
Bealla sighs inwardly.
"What are we doing about you then." She says sarcastically.
I just shrug my shoulders in response, and we continue walking. Though as I look at the less than sanitary floor on our walk, I gain a bright idea to test where she actually stands in regards to me.
My legs begin to slowly veer towards a prominent pile of horse shit, I pretend not to notice as I stroll along carelessly. My line of sight captures her concerned gaze towards where I was headed, yet she still doesn't intervene.
I almost cop out when I think I'm going to step directly in the shit, but it's too late to back out now, my foot is almost upon it when it's swept out from under me, I hear whispering from behind as the brown mass is flicked away by a completely invisible force, almost nailing a soldier in the head who was walking by.
"Sorry!" She'd call out in apology, the soldier simply nodded awkwardly and moved on.
"You idiot! Look where you're walking next time!" She shouts aggressively at me.
At least I know she's on my side now, somewhat, if she had a vendetta or negative impression of me she'd just let me step in it and track it into the Duke's hall, probably getting me executed as a result. I smile as things seem to be going my way in such an unfamiliar situation, at least for now.
We approach a door attached to the wall, my eyes trail down to see that the wall joins into a larger castle house, the main-body of the estate. My neck cranes up slightly to observe the large spired towers on either side of the building, a beautiful design indeed.
The wooden door was given a combination of knocks by Bealla, who was quickly greeted by a sentry who opened it with a audible creak, ushering us both in swiftly.
My senses are dampened by the sudden drop in light, meagre torches replace the sun, they flicker warm orange tones on my face as we walk past, reminding me of the torchlight of Bealla's party. Part of me wanted to shudder at the direness of it all.
I felt homesick, like I was a child stripped of all the comforts of familiarity, nothing in this world could be recognizable, surely, but I would have to deal with that, stay strong, stay headfast, you need to face this and deliver your people to true liberation. Such words would pound my heart with a revitalised determination, though it was still slightly nerve-wracking in the build up to meeting this Duke.
It felt like time had slowed since we began strolling down the winding and cramped halls of the castle, boredom almost got the better of me before we finally ended up in the halls of the main building.
Grandiose stone and marble accentuated studded golden chandeliers which hung proud from the high ceilings of the hallway. We walked carefully on vibrant red carpet that was most likely inconceivably expensive. And I noticed, to my horror, we had tracked dirt in, which had very prominently marked its self in contrast to the crimson of the carpet.
"It'll clean with magic, look." Bealla flicks her wrist, once again going into her whispering. I observe in amazement as dampness surrounds the brown patches, before air dries them out in a matter of moments, the carpet looks good as new.
"That's amazing." I blink in surprise.
"We're running late, don't want to make the Lord wait." She'd hurry me along towards a large wooden gate, black iron ran through it's frame.
Bealla once again approached the large gate, knocking on it gently in a synchronized order, a blaringly obvious secret entry code of some sort.
The massive gate squeals open as I'm presented with an ominous sight. Multiple people are gathered to the side of each room, all observing us as we walk in. And down the middle, I see an ornate chair. Upon it, a man sits with his arms folded, his trimmed silver beard contrasting against the lit up yellow hues of the chandeliers above him.
It was his estate, it was the Duke, he eyed me with a clear interest.
"Bring the stranger closer to me." His guttural voice rumbled the hall.
"Walk forward and kneel." Bealla whispers advice in my ear as I now approach the dais at which the Duke is sat, he obviously commanded a great amount of power and respect, the people within the hall did not speak when he did. They were all dead silent amidst his presence.
I would not let myself be too shaken up though, facing down a man who owns an estate is a little different to one who commands an entire star.
As I approach, my mind doesn't forget to make my body kneel before him, if Markus was in my situation, he most certainly could not appear like this.
I notice that the orange and white haired woman slinks out the back, she is followed by her large framed servant.
Something is off about how she looks at me, it is full of scorn and distain.
"So this is the looter you were telling me about, my daughter?" The Duke narrows his eyes at me as she nods to confirm.
"Our party was exploring our families' old dungeon-hold, which we thought was long abandoned, until this looter, who had tried to take a sword from the ancient armoury already." She explains thoroughly. A blatant lie.
I understand what's going on now, it looks like things won't be so smooth for me. People have decided to both take my side, and go against my strange appearance in this place, for the better or for the worst. But I should aim to stay in this place, as it's within my best interest to gather resources here.
"He had no bag to carry the stolen goods, respectfully, my lady, how can you tell he is a looter?" Bealla bowed as she spoke, trying to remain as cordial as possible whilst also arguing.
"How dare you question me as a mere retainer." She spits, her orange white hair swaying about as she lashes out.
This was to be a complicated ordeal, I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of this meeting, I had created a fracture in this family.
The Duke clears his throat, and everything falls once more into a deep pool of silence. We wait eagerly for his next words.