“I am not a knight!” Judd cried then realised, a split second later, just how loud he had been. He swallowed, seeing the stunned expressions of his lordship, his ladyship and the cleric/deacon. “I apologise for my outburst,” he blundered madly, “but I cannot allow you to continue in your mistaken identity.”
“Mistaken?” Lord LeMewn’s tone was unimpressed.
“I…uh…”
“What Judd LaMogre means is that you have unfortunately been the recipients of misinformation and he would never wish to deceive you, Lord LeMewn.” Giordi offered with an elegant bow.
Lord LeMewn’s rising ire had been interrupted and even Judd knew he had to press the explanation.
“I am one of those who has taken up Sir Rylan’s knighthood quest. It is possible those who heard as much, believed I am already a knight.”
“Ah…well then…” Lord LeMewn turned to Clariet. “I am surprised you did not call him out yourself, Clariet.”
“My Lord, I received the same misinformation as yourself from the brothers, Borre, about Judd LaMogre’s knighted status.” Clariet expertly deflected any responsibility. “In future we will put less weight upon the word of shepherds.”
Judd cringed, wondering if they’d just managed to land the brothers in trouble the next time they visited Quarre.
“The brothers Borre were very kind to us, looking after our two horses while we crossed the channel to Keenstone Isle and said, if we were gone for more than a week, that they would see to it our horses would be looked after here.”
“Your horses are in His Lordship’s stables,” Clariet bowed, “as we were under the impression they were the steeds of a knight…though perhaps their somewhat humble appearance should have given us reason to question this assumption.”
“My love,” Lia said so gently it was as though she was whispering, “it is hardly the fault of our visitors that we have mistaken them so. Will we not still invite them to dine with us?”
“Then, perhaps, Cleric…?”
“Caste Undern.”
“Cleric Undern will return to Astaril with a favourable report of your generous hospitality.” Clariet added.
Lord LeMewn paused to consider this. Though it was only for a few seconds, it felt like an eternity. “Yes, let us proceed as planned. After all, you may yet be a knight…but you may be a knight yet.” LeMewn chuckled as though he had been incredibly witty. Judd laughed weakly, sure LeMewn had just made a joke but was too rattled to truly understand it. “You and your companions will dine with us this evening.”
“While your graciousness knows no bounds, Your Lordship,” Giordi declared with enviable confidence and eloquence, “we could not possibly dine at your illustrious table in our current state.”
Judd wanted to add, because we smell, but suspected that was not the kind of conversation Giordi had in mind.
“Perhaps in an hour, after you have availed yourselves of our public baths?” Lord LeMewn suggested.
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Judd looked at Giordi who nodded as subtly as he could. “Yes, we would be delighted.”
“My Lord,” Clariet said softly, “perhaps, in honour of the house of the Order of the Grail…”
“Yes, of course…” Lord LeMewn waved his hand.
“Cleric Caste, I would be pleased to offer you a room in the house of His Lordship.” Clariet bowed.
Judd was none too surprised that Caste immediately accepted the offer.
“We will see the three of you in an hour.”
“Was there not one more of you?” Clariet asked and they turned.
Judd was astonished to discover that Aalis was not with them. “She…she was right…”
“Aalis is extremely shy, Your Lordship,” Giordi explained as quickly as he could, “and of very humble origins. I fear your grand abode has overwhelmed her.”
They bowed and escaped out of the manor house as quickly as they could. After putting a little distance between themselves and the house, Judd glanced around. “Aalis?” He hissed.
She appeared from behind a bush, her face coloured with shame. “I am sorry…” She blurted.
“So am I,” Judd sighed then saw her expression, “that I didn’t do the same thing. That,” he glanced at the house, “was awkward.”
“At least it is over…” Aalis could feel the mood sag. “It is over, is it not?”
“Not…exactly.” Judd cringed. “We’re invited to supper.”
“And I suspect they’re delaying it so can we bathe first.” Giordi fluttered his hands at them and they hurried down the path to the main square.
“I do not have to come, do I?” Aalis asked in horror. “Judd, I am not…I…look…”
“We’re all in the same situation.” Judd lamented.
“Not exactly.” Verne said with scathing dryness. “You’re not going to risk being accused of being a witch and condemned to death just by having supper.”
“No, I mean…that’s not what I meant.” Judd pushed his hands over his face. “Even if we put all our best clothes into a pile, I doubt we’ll come up with anything worthy of a lord’s supper table, let alone clean.”
“Let’s just focus on getting bodily clean.” Giordi decided. “Judd, Verne…come on.”
“Actually,” Verne grasped Judd and Giordi’s packs, “I’ll get us a room at the tavern. I mean, we’re not going to be staying up there…are we?”
“I doubt it,” Giordi chuckled, “otherwise we’d be bathing there.”
“So, I’ll get us a room and keep watch over our gear while you bathe and then we’ll switch.”
“So do not take too long.” Aalis said, standing with Verne.
Judd nodded and followed Giordi to the baths. He glanced over his shoulder at Verne and Aalis entering the tavern and sighed, his shoulders sagging. He climbed the steps to the baths and paid for them both to enter. The attendant handed them a towel each and a tiny piece of soap then jerked her head towards the right where the male baths were found inside a large room, each bath sunken and big enough for four men of reasonable size to recline without unnecessary…contact. It was relatively busy and there was a great deal of steam obscuring their vision. Giordi appeared right at home, yanking his boots off, his trousers, tunic and vest, striping down to nothing. Judd looked away and did the same. Giordi was not embarrassed so he reasoned he should not be either.
Giordi sat on the ledge in the water, leaning back so that he could sink a little deeper, the water halfway up his chest.
“Is there anything more heavenly than a warm bath?”
“A hot one.” Judd muttered, wishing the water was warmer. He picked up his tiny piece of soap and lathered his hair into a crown of bubbles then dunked beneath the water and rinsed until it was clean. He gave all other parts of his body as much attention as he dared in a public place.
“You really need to learn to enjoy a bath…” Giordi sighed happily, his piece of soap untouched.
“We’ve got to get back so that Verne and Aalis can bathe.”
“You sure you’re not trying to get back as soon as possible in order to interrupt anything they might be doing?”
Judd’s face was already a little flushed from the water but he felt it increase in colour. “I don’t know what you mean.” He said roughly, getting out of the bath, scraping the water from his body as best he could and yanking on his pants as quickly as possible.
“I think you do.” Giordi opened one eye and looked at Judd. “To be honest, I’m not sure you’ve got anything to worry about. The way Aalis smiles at you is usually the way I gauge that a young woman would like more of my attention.”
Judd paused. “I just don’t know about that. Aalis and Verne seem to have a connection since the incident in the channel with the sirens and I can’t help but wonder if those hateful illusions had something to do with it.”