The Fickle Winds of Autumn

63. Ellis has Concerns

The comfortable fire in Aldwyn's chambers threw out its friendly warmth against the descent of evening; it softly caressed Kira's legs as she sat staring at the patterns created by the deftly shimmering flames.

Her grateful hands cradled a steaming mug of broth, while the crackling, glowing embers shifted and glided and curled up the blackened chimney.

The luxury of her situation still impressed itself into her - but she was determined not to let any nagging doubts about self-indulgence prevent her from relishing the cosy surroundings as she sat on the rug, and waited for her bread to toast.

"I just don't know any more," said Ellis from his chair at the table behind her, "it all seems so strange. First there's this business with the Church and the old Patrex, and now he buries himself away in the Library day after day. Who knows what he's doing in there - he won't even tell me about the books he's consulting, let alone what he hopes to discover in them."

"But that's hardly fair," said Kira as she turned to face him, "you know he can't tell us - Patrex Steadman made him promise not to."

The warm smell of browning bread drifted up and tantalised her eager nose.

She lifted the toasting fork from the hearth and moved to sit in the candlelight of the table.

"But those sorts of rules and authority never seemed to bother him before," said Ellis.

"But in his own cottage, his own rules apply," Kira responded. "Now he's here in the Cathedral, he must obey the Patrex, just as everyone else has to."

"But I just can't feel sure who he really is any more - or whether I trust him as much as I did."

"But that's just it," said Kira, "you did trust him and he trusts you. I saw you both working together that morning in his cottage - no-one could fake that or pretend to care about you as much as he obviously does."

Kira spread her toast with a thick layer of honey; it oozed over the hot surface; the pale, translucent drops reflected the warm candle-glow as they dribbled over the edges of the bread.

Just how she liked it.

True, it was another lavish indulgence - but while she was at the Cathedral, she was determined to enjoy her stay - and besides, it would have been rude to her hosts not to accept their full hospitality.

"And then he helped us both escape from the slavers and the wolves," she continued. "And from what you've told me, he single-handedly risked his own life to rescue me from the haemagiles. That's the Aldwyn that I know and trust - even though I've only known him a short time."

Her mouth rejoiced as she crunched into the sweet, sticky toast. The thick honey clung lovingly to her lips and chin.

"At the moment, he's a bit pre-occupied," she managed to say, "but it seems that everyone else is too - ever since those witches attacked the ceremony."

"Well, I'm fed up with being stuck in this room," said Ellis. "We're completely isolated from any news of what's going on out there - I mean, we're little better than prisoners in here."

"It's only for a few days," said Kira, as she munched on her toast, "and I'm certainly not complaining!"

She paused to savour the seeping flow of the honey across her tongue and throat, then washed it slowly down with a mouthful of hot milk.

"You have to try and think of all the nice things that he's done for you," she said. "I thought you told me that he took you in when the people in your village threw stones at you because of the magik symbols on your arms?"