Notes

Chapter two

Looking back over his shoulder, the jester saw the last sliver of light fading beneath the treetops. The walk from the market to the castle had taken more time then usual, then again, one does not catch alley-robbers in the act everyday. He frowned when he returned his gaze upon the road. The sad part wasn’t getting late for his daily performance, but he had to explain the mangled bodies of two robbers to the captain of the guard sooner or later.
Would the old man tell the guards of his saviour, out of panic he might be the next victim of the crazed jester? ‘No, he would never to that!’ Thought Tarnis.
‘Who’d never do what?’
Tarnis blinked and stopped, realising he was at the castle drawbridge.
‘Are you thick in the head boy?’ Asked the guard that had spoken, too young to be naming anyone “boy”. Looking no more then twenty, with a clean guards-outfit that never spoke of use, but constant grooming. No facial hair whatsoever, eagerness and arrogance in his eyes.
‘ Thicker then you’ll ever be’, replied Tarnis.
Taken back by the unexpected reply, the young guard blinked in thought, trying to think of something clever.
Without waiting for further jibes, he pointed over the guards shoulder, asking, ‘May I ask what’s going on over there?’
Snapping out of thought, the guard glanced back and said, ‘There’s a mage in town. At least they say so, I’m not buying any of it though. A first class charlatan that is.’
‘ I’ll take your word for it, Said Tarnis, not meaning a single word, as he continued his path to the keep. ‘Have a pleasant nights-watch.’
The young guard shuddered at the mention of “nights-watch” but nodded his thanks and turned for his guardhouse.
Tarnis removed the mage from his thought, instead wondering about his next performance.

On his way towards the dining hall, where he should have performed over an hour ago, he met no nobles, not even the occasional maid or squire. Something’s not right, he thought, not out loud this time.
Finally he came upon the dininghall doors, to his surprise they were barred. He knocked upon the dark wooden doors, no reply came. Looking around the hallway, he saw no drunken noblemen, or any sign that would have indicated a fight, be it with fist or swords.
He knocked again. A soft shuffeling sound came from behind the doors, and with a low “thump” one door etched open, a aged head probed out, staring dull at the late-jester. Tarnis recognised ‘Horfer’ imeadiatly, one of the oldest guards the castle employed.
‘Sorry jester’ said Horfer, ‘Major Wisir has cancelled todays dine, together with all nights festivities’
‘But why?’ Asked Tarnis.
Horfer just shrugged, stepping back and closing the door.
‘Go ask him yerself lad’ Said Horfer from behind the door.
I think I’ll will, thought Tarnis. Making sure he got his 3 daggers on his belt, and his shovel on his back, he started towards Major Wisir Das-Cucumbkuer private chambers.