The sight of an armed Celtic warrior was usually more than enough to strike terror into the heart. For that same Celtic warrior to suddenly show up, completely unannounced, in the doorway to the kitchen, well, it was enough to make a few dishes fly from the hands of the startled cooks. "Wrong turn," Kryschenn muttered, turning away from the tide of soup flowing across the floor. She hadn't meant to scare them, but a five-foot-ten, muscular swordswoman dressed in full leather armor probably wasn't the type of woman normally seen in the palace. She was going to have to work on her body language if that was the reaction she was going to expect from these people.
Indeed, before she knew it, there was a rush of activity behind her, metal boots claning on the stone floors, and someone yelled, "Halt, woman!"
Krys looked over her shoulder to see three palace guards bearing down on her, dirks drawn as they approached.
"Puh-leeze," Kryschenn said, patting her sword, which was at least twice as long as any of their dirks. "I'm not hurting anyone. Don't do anything to change that."
"In the name of Her Majesty, I order you to lay down your weapon, barbarian!" the boldest of the guards commanded.
"I'm not a barbarian. I'm a berserker. Get it right." She found it interesting that they had stopped well out of sword's reach. Did she really come across as that intimidating? Cool.
"Heathen wench!" another guard challenged. "You'll regret invading this palace, thief!"
Krys rolled her eyes. If the next guy called her a cavalier or an acrobat, she was going to have to get medieval on him.
"If you don't put down that sword, we can and will make you do it," the third said, probably never realizing how narrowly he'd avoided a monster wedgie.
Krys was suitably unimpressed. "Is this the way you always treat the Princess's dinner guests?" she asked calmly, folding her arms aggressively but wearing a sarcastic smile.
The guards suddenly faltered, looking a little pale. A guest of the princess? This wild woman? Just then, from the opposite direction, came more guards. Including the one who had let them in at the gate.
"Lower your weapons!" he shouted. "Do not harm her, she is a guest of her majesty!"
Kryschenn looked up at the ceiling and heaved an ironical sigh. "My hero," she muttered.
"Please, forgive us, we did not realize you were a...a lady," the first guard stammered after a moment's confusion.
Yep. Definitely have to do something about the armor before meeting the princess.
There was more confusion, and hasty apologies to both Kryschenn and the guard from the gate, who seemed to hold more rank. "Forgive them," he said after he had dismissed the others. "It weighs heavily on us that our city will be in the hands of Venger within a week. They are ready to fight but see threats where none exist."
That was a pretty good segue, and Kryschenn jumped on it. "Just why is Venger so interested in Yarfell?" she asked. "If you can forgive the ignorance of an outsider. I've asked around but no one really seems to know. Is this a strategic location? Or are there resources that he needs?"
"Some say he wishes to punish us for our years of defiance," the guard said slowly.
Krys thought about this. "And you say..?" shehinted.
"There are rumors," the guard said, looking around and lowering his voice. "Rumors of a great power, within the catacombs beneath the city. Some say it is this that Venger seeks."
"What kind of power?"
"I know not."
Shoot. Kryschenn's shoulders dropped. She'd gotten close there for a second, but this one really knew little more than anyone else. Still, it corroborated Presto's story, what he had said when she and Fairalin had felt...something. That there was something beneath the city, and maybe it had a guardian.
It was very little to go on, but it was a start. Thanking the man, she wondered if she should go check on Terri, then get ready for dinner, or keep searching for someone else who might have another piece to the puzzle.
