Later

I did not know at once why she called the Lord Bjǫrn foolish, nor could I quite conceive of why the Baroness spoke with such scorn of the house of Bjǫrn as a whole. However, the vividness and familiarity with which she spoke of days long past, of the history of the castle in which she lived, and of the feuds and deaths of those who had lived there long before my arrival.

Taking note of the vast majority of what it was that she had recounted, leaving no detail out, no matter how small or insignificant. So that when the time came to re-read the great majority of the record made of the history of Teufelburg and of the founding of the Barony, it was only thence that I noticed how the suns had begun to peak on the horizon.

Eyes burning I was to turn about far too rapidly, so that the bottle of ink (one of only four I had brought with me for this journey), was knocked over onto the ground. My mistake was a foolish one and one that in hindsight could easily be excused. It could be excused, quite easily as said, for I had not put down the pen for a single moment since it was first picked up, in order to note down all that was to be told, by the lady Vârcola. I must confess that the first words that were expostulated were hardly ones befitting a monk.

Cleaning up the glass took little time, though the act of avoiding some of the sharper corners took a little more care. Care I was not wholly able to give over to such an endeavour, because of the exhaustion that plagued my mind and spirit.

Hissing from the pain, from the edge of my fingertips where the glass had cut I was to grip the said fingers momentarily. Hurrying to my bedchambers, to find the torn robes I had flung to one side of the room near to the table upon which I had lain several of my personal effects. Tearing a strip of the dark cloth, with which my wound was promptly seen to after hurriedly cleaning it in a bowl of cold water thoughtfully put on a separate table pressed against the left-hand wall, by Klove.

I was to rub at my eyes, wherefore I laid down for the remainder of the morn’, too wearied to properly resist the numbing need for rest, by this time.

*****

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“Brother Arnfried,” Klove was to later remark wakening me from my rest some time later, “The Baroness requests your presence in the dining-hall.”

Startled I leapt up a little from the bed, less than pleased to have been awoken in this rather unsubtle manner, by the man-servant of the lady Vârcola. Stammering, I was apologized to for awakening me, in the coldest and most indifferent voice ever utilized by any man, or so it seemed.

“You have thus far slept through the whole of the day brother,” He informed me without seeming at all bothered, “Your books have been closed, and a new bottle of ink has already been supplied for your later usage.”

“Really? You took one of my bottles of ink? Wait, what of the one I accidentally shattered?”

“No brother, I took the liberty of withdrawing some ink and a new quill-pen from the lady’s collection, and have already cleaned the spilled ink and shattered bottle. It seemed the most natural course of action, was I mistaken to have done so?” Klove said in his morbid tones, face as impassive as always.

“Oh well thank you, I do hope it was not too much trouble,” I stammered politely.

“Not at all,” There was a thin trail of disdain beneath the sheen of indifference.

Unsure if I had imagined the scorn, or if it was simply a figment of my over-active imagination, I ate a swift break-fast that consisted of something called Sarmale cu mamaliga si carnati which was to say mince rolled in pickled cabbage with Polenta. My request for the recipe was promptly obeyed, with Klove writing it with a rapid hand that startled me.

His writing was not at all so crude, as you might well have imagined it, for it was neat and well-lined. Amazed, and baffled I was to later store the recipe in my bag, yet before that while the servant cleared the table of all the cutlery and plates, I could resist asking about this phenomenon.

“There was a time, ere my own arrival in Castle-Teufelburg, it was in that time that I learnt to read, write and even sculpt ever so slightly. My mother had been raised in a convent you see, before she met my father, it was she who passed on to me the secrets of literacy, and the lady has seen fit to have it refined.” He remarked with a hint of pride.

“Oh truly? It seems finer than my own writing,” I admitted a little embarrassed, for which he thanked me. Turning to leave, it was only thence that I noticed that the lady had not come down for her own morning-meal. “The Baroness has not come down to eat.”

“To the contrary brother,” Klove said quietly, “She was here before your own descent; it was she who had left instructions for your own breakfast to be prepared.”

Thanking him, I was to return to the library in the hopes to continue my recording of the history of Teufelburg, this work serving well to distract me for the hours that followed. It was as a wound that I had by this time over-stayed my stay, so that I swore when next I saw the Baroness I should convey to her the importance, of the Emperor’s summons.