7.1

Jewel was glad to be home.

The food in Kaeketeh was rich and flavorful and sweet and just so many other things. But after almost five full days of that, while Father and the rest of the ‘war council’ demonstrated and discussed the strategy for the coming summer and war she was growing rather tired of it.

The journey back had been less colorful and all around not as pleasant.

Heavy rains had slowed their journey by four days.

If not for Tsugotholan they likely would still be trudging through the mud.

But instead, Jewel was home.

They had missed the smoke season. The pigs and other animals that would not see the end of winter had already been slaughtered and the smoking of sausages and salting of pork bellies were now half a season past.

Still, Jewel took in heavy breaths of the smells of home.

She had never realized all the subtle and welcoming nuances that lingered in the air even as Autumn had just half a season left in it and winter’s reign was coming.

The colors of the forest had been shed to the ground, leaving only the bare limbs of trees. Even those hues were turning dull brown.

The fields were either sowed for winter or left fallow.

The bare stalks of wheat left from summer were already cut down.

Few people went outdoors if they could help it. And on the way Smithson and the other footmen had begun to shiver in their coats.

Jewel had been tasked to ignite wet logs for fire in the waystation that marked the border of Rochford last night.

The sun seemed distant and pale. Lonely in the emptiness of a blue sky.

The horizon and the sky over the mountains were boiling with the threat of storms from all sides.

Rochford was bundling itself away in anticipation of the enveloping white of Winter.

Autumn would soon be at an end.

But Jewel could not be happier to be home!

And as they marched through the familiar street of Rochford Village, she could not stop herself from humming a little tune to herself.

Waving and nodding to the bundled up peasants who were rushing with bundles of dry sticks for fuel or river-reed for roof thatch.

As they came to the courtyard, Mother was already waiting, bundled in her heavy winter cloak alongside Alexander, Murial and the remaining half of the Footmen.

“Greetings husband, daughter and men of Rochford! Welcome home!”

Father dismounted from Zephyrvam and strode clear across the courtyard in a few long strides before he lifted Mother up and spun her around in a sweeping arc before holding her close to him.

Jewel turned her attention away from her parents. Instead, she stepped up to Alexander and dipped her head.

“Brother! Have your studies been going well?”

Alexander for his part nodded sharply and beamed with pride.

“Yah! Muriel has had me out checking on the peasants. And I went on another hunt and this time I took down a buck!”

Jewel beamed and congratulated her brother!

“Most Excellent, Brother! Felled by your own arrow? Then the hunt went well I presume?”

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Muriel beside her brother smiled widely at that and nodded along to Jewel.

“It went quite well indeed, though we had to chase it from mid-morning til just past noon. Felled by lack of blood and exhaustion it was. Next time take a better aim for a clean strike through the heart, young master.”

Her brother nodded firmly at the words. Although technically an admonishment, it did not seem to perturb his good spirits.

“Yes, Governess! I’ll practice my bow every day! Even through snow and winter storms!”

Which brought Muriel to a good natured laughter that Jewel could not help but join.

It was so good to be home!

There would be a familiar feast of hearty Rochford autumn stew, and then a nice stress relieving bath!

Jewel sighed happily to herself.

“Lady Jewel, your pail.”

And it was just getting better, for Smithson, the best squire a Wyrm could ask for, had finished unloading her packs and now was offering her precious pail.

She’d hardly had the opportunity to use it during the journey or even at the Countess’ keep in Kaeketeh! She still was astounded that for all its opulence the keep had lacked a tub large enough for Jewel to properly luxuriate!

She had to make do with oiling and rinsing her claws and snout awkwardly in basins of water or the insufficiently sized tubs available (all a rather tight fit for Father to bathe in let alone Jewel).

With a sharp nod she took the pail in her foreclaws. She had to shift her weight to the knuckles of her wings to keep it out of the dirt.

It was less becoming or graceful but Jewel was home and after spending more than half the season trudging along the road, having to assert her dignity and right as a lady and not having adequate facilities to bathe she was utterly done with appearances for the day!

She crawled/strode up to Mother and Father, looking absently to the space around them and their affections and then cleared her throat with her quietest and most dainty chirp.

“Mother, did Jorge have sufficient notice to have my bath prepared?”

Jewel loved Mother. She loved Father and she was just about ready to accept that Muriel was an ally and maybe someday a friend (as strange as that felt to consider).

So it was with great consideration to them that she did not squawk in indignation at the burst of laughter from all her loved ones at her request.

Even if Jewel would have every right too! She had not had a bath in nineteen days!

This was not a jape or a frivolous request!

Jewel was certain there was grit in her mane that had never properly combed out despite her and Smithson’s best attempt that had been there since she left Rochford.

She could only imagine that the reek of thunder and lightning hung on her like a funeral shawl.

Only barely covered by lavender oil that had run dry three days ago.

And Autumn showers were no excuse for a proper bath!

The hot water was needed to fully cleanse her of the scent of Wyrmish exertions.

Jewel had every right to be affronted but this was her family and governess, so she was not.

Mother finally got her laughter under control and waved Jewel into the main doors.

“Y-yes daughter, Jorge began preparing it when word caught that you were in sight of the village. Will you be taking a bath prior to dinner then?”

Jewel nodded firmly and with all the seriousness that the occasion demanded.

Then marched on her wing knuckles into the castle and down the hall to her bathing room.

Father had the audacity to chuckle, and she heard his muffled words promising the footmen that there would be hot water enough for all of them to enjoy a good soak once she was finished.

The warm cheers were quite good and proper Jewel thought.

Hot baths were a delight for her, she could only imagine what they meant for those that winter’s teeth could touch.

Jewel felt far more worldly than she had at the end of last season. Truly the books had not lied about the benefits of travel to bring insight and appreciation of one’s home.

Yes, familiar food and welcoming feasts were important.

But a good bath was the true meaning of home.

Jewel considered that then nodded as she made her way along familiar stones in the direction of Jorge’s comforting scent.

The fortress of Rochford welcomed its Lady and the bath promised relief.

Jewel was Home.