I woke to candle light and a cool cloth at my forehead. "Urghh. What a strange dream," I mumbled.
"Dream or not, it is time to wake, my friend."
That voice- it had been in my dream. I sat up quickly, then groaned as hammers seemed to pound inside my head and I nearly collapsed back into the soft bed from dizziness. The flicker of soft candle light on rough wood walls was more soothing than harsh light bulbs, thankfully.
A hand steadied me as I swayed back and forth. "You took a bit of a knock falling off my horse. Thankfully the healer says you'll be fine."
This was not a dream, nor a charade, I realized sadly. Somehow I had been taken from the known confines of my small town to an unknown land. I gritted my teeth. I did not want to faint again. It would waste more time. Clearing my throat, I gratefully took the cup of water from him and drank. "I'm sorry Bard Evan, I have dizzy spells sometimes. Even my doctor doesn't know what to do about them." Stalling though it was, it seemed to mollify him temporarily.
"The Healer said you were fine, but did not pry beyond what he felt necessary." The frown was evident in his voice.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to inconvenience you-" I viciously quelled my rising panic. If my only guide in this weird place were to abandon me-
"Nonsense! You were obviously weary from the ride! Now, are you still hungry?"
I smiled. The man was so kind! "Of course, sir! But I don't have any money-"
He delicately laid my even more battered glasses in my hands. "Nonsense again! You shall tell me stories of your homeland and I shall make sure you have proper food and drink so that you don't grow tired of telling your tale!" An oddly callused hand helped me to my feet and out into the main room of what turned out to be an inn.
Thankfully not much attention was paid to us until Evan guided me gently to a wooden bench next to the largest stone fireplace I have ever seen. Inwardly, I smiled. Mom would just kill for this kind of décor! Rough cut wooden tables and benches were just the beginning. A time-polished plank laid over several huge stained barrels made for a bar. The bartender behind it somehow made me queasy for some reason. As soon as we sat down, a girl about my age trotted up. She was dressed in many skirts and her hair was braided tightly. That must be how he had excepted me to dress. I almost snorted as I noticed her stare.
"What'll it be, Bard Evan?" She chirruped.
"Roast mutton and dumplings for me, Sierra! And the lighter ale, of course."
"An yer lady friend?"
"The same, except water instead of ale, please." The mutton would no doubt give me a stomach ache, but the ale would do much worse.
"The food'll be ou' ina bit, then." The girl left.
"No ale? It makes the mutton taste better," he said curiously.
I shook my head. "I don't drink, Evan."
"Ah, another strange custom of your land, perhaps?"
A smile formed, despite my attempts not to. "Not usually, just an odd custom of mine." I jumped, sending my glasses spinning off onto the table, as the door slammed open and several people tromped in. I captured my glasses finally and turned to watch as several greeted Evan like an old friend. Others wandered over to the bar and demanded food and drink and a few sat down at tables around us. Two sat beside me and I shuffled away uncomfortably, ducking my head and hoping they wouldn't ask me any questions.
Thankfully they chattered animatedly with Evan, so I turned my head to study them, curious in spite of myself. One wore the same brilliant white uniform-like dress that I had seen flying past before I ran into Evan. His green eyes looked seriously at Evan as he spoke- something about strange disturbances in the land. The other was dressed far more drably and once his initial greetings were exchanged, was silent, merely listening quietly to the other two. Mostly leather and hard-worn cloth made up most of his garb. He glanced at me and I looked away quickly. His eyes startled me although I could not have said exactly why they did so. Brown-almost shading to buttery gold they were. Not extraordinary in any way. I gulped. Surely it was the scars on his face that had frightened me! Surely! I clasped my hands in my lap and prayed, not knowing what to say or what to ask, simply sending up a silent paean of helplessness.
The man in question grimaced. He'd scared another one. Damn! And a pretty one at that, for all her outlandish clothing. Soft blond hair drifted slightly in the heavy draft from the fireplace and her eyes, what he could see of them behind those strange spectacles, were pale blue- almost grey. A thin clean face untouched as yet by the ravages of time perched above a body that, had his former comrades been here, would have been the talk of the tents. Not that she was over-endowed. But with just enough padding to add soft curves right where they should be. Brennan smiled sadly. Not that she'd look twice at him! A rough and tumble, down on his luck, beaten up merc? Hah! He turned his attention back to what the Herald was babbling about and had been for quite some time. He'd heard rumors of the strange change circles, but had yet to see one himself. From the sound of things, that might be for the best.
The young woman gasped as their food arrived and he eyed her curiously. Those strange looking spectacles suggested that she didn't see well. The only other time he had seen a pair was at the Guildhall, when the Guildmasters had ruled in the hearing about him and his former comrades. He pushed the memory away. That had no bearing here. At least he hoped it didn't. Then said spectacles had been used only briefly to read some handwritten notes. These he doubted she could do without, they were so thick. Idly he wondered how someone so nearsighted could survive into adulthood. She was no highborn lady. That was obvious from her clothes! Yet she didn't have the manners of a whore or the calluses of a fieldworker, although calluses she did have, he noted as she lifted a fork-full of noodles to her mouth.
Soon there were calls from the others in the inn for Evan to give them some entertainment. The Bard produced his favorite lute and drum, taking his accustomed seat before the fireplace. He kept his seat next to the odd lady, noting Evan's worried pleading glance at him and interpreting it to mean that the Bard didn't want her bothered. Well, he could take care of that much, at least.
She fell asleep at some point, head resting on her arms upon the tabletop and he carried Evan's lute and drum upstairs behind him as the Bard carried the lady to her rooms next to the Bard's. The merc returned to his own rooms and fell into bed and silent slumber.
The next day he found them in the stables, beside to Evan's brown gelding.
"Found a new playmate already, Evan? Isn't she a bit young for you?" Brennan joked, chuckling at his old friend's surprised and outraged look.
"No and yes! Besides, I just met her yesterday." The Bard snorted. "She's too much of a puzzle to ruin by a quick roll in the hay, Brennan." Evan chided as he pulled a money pouch from his belt and counted out several silver and copper coins. "Take her to the weaver's and get her proper travelling clothes. And the cobbler's for boots! Those strange shoes she has won't last long on the road. Make sure no one accosts her please, old friend. She does not know the customs here."
Brennan tucked the money away carefully, nodding. She must be important to him if he were asking the merc to look after her. And she must not be from around here if the Bard were asking him, of all people, to take a lady clothes shopping! "Where is she from then?"
The Bard grinned excitedly. "Somewhere I've never heard of. Also, take her to the jeweler and see if he can fix those odd spectacles of hers. Now I'm going to go find her a proper horse." The scarlet clad man turned away to speak quietly to the very strangely clad young woman with the wire and glass contraption perched on her face. He turned back to Brennan.
"Brennan, this is Anna. Please look after her while I attend to business." With that, the Bard left.
The young lady-Anna, he reminded himself, bowed her head to him. "I am pleased to meet you, Sir Brennan," she said softly.
"Just- Brennan, please lady. I'm no temple knight." He blushed in spite of himself. Her words brought back memories he did not wish to be reminded of here and now. Even though his soul longed for the quiet domed ceilings and dusty prayer cells of his once home, he could never return there.
"Then please call me Anna, not 'lady' as everyone around here seems so fond of doing."
He grinned at the hint of soured steel in her voice and gestured for her to follow him. "Gladly, Anna." This was definitely going to be more interesting than sitting around at the Guildhall, hoping someone would hire him. The weather seemed like it might hold again today, although there was always the chance it would dissolve into heavy storms as it had for the past few weeks. He figured she would be best off with clothes first and lead her to the small shop stuffed with cloth and the large weaver, Jenna.
In almost no time at all, the heavyset lady had measured Anna and determined what kinds of clothes she would need from questioning Brennan, since after the first round of pleasantries, it was clear to her that Anna had some very odd notions of dress indeed!
Next was the cobbler and while the man was surprised that a lady such as she would want or need heavy riding boots, he measured her feet and promised them within a day or two. Brennan noted Anna's longing glance at the cobbler's rolls of leather lacing and figured he would ask later. Out of curiosity, he added a roll of the heavy stuff, figuring he could use it for re-lacing his boots, if nothing else.
It was not until they had reached the jeweler's guarded shop that they ran into trouble. Anna stumbled three steps from the door, seemingly overcome by a dizzy spell and the skies opened up, drenching them. He scooped the girl up and carried her into the shop, shoving the door closed behind him with his shoulder. Quickly setting her down next to a chair the jeweler gestured to absently, he caught her glasses as they finally came off. She took them back from him with a nod of thanks and laid them on the jeweler's bargaining table, fishing for the pieces that had come loose in her pockets.
Predictably, the old man started to hammer her with questions about the making of those strange spectacles and she stuttered out a few confusing answers as Brennan caught the jeweler's attention with a cough and shook his head. The jeweler quickly apologized and between the two of them, they determined how best to cobble the crushed pieces back together. The merc watched curiously as the pieces were painstakingly re-assembled by judicious application of a candle and metal shaping rod and then reinforced with thin practice wire from his apprentices' stores. Finally Anna pronounced them done and, after waiting for them to cool, molded them to her face, where they finally stayed.
By now, it was starting to get dark out, so Brennan led her back to the inn from which they'd started. There, they found Evan with a fiddle to his chin, in the midst of a knot of dancers who made up for their lack of knowledge of dance with sheer enthusiasm. Anna gaped and stopped in her tracks.
"How do they avoid tripping over each other?" She murmured, unconsciously backing away.
Brennan chuckled. "They don't. Just watch." He led her to a bench safely out of the way of the seemingly insane dancers. Not two minutes after they sat, one dancer went a bit too fast and tripped, falling against one of the serving wenches who had a platter full of food and three drinks in one hand, knocking her sprawling onto a table of travelers. They sorted themselves out, with a lot of laughter and raucous comments and Bard Evan started a softer, slower tune.