The knight commander jerked his head at Hilde in a preumptory gesture that she should follow. Had the man said something about a witch? Or a cargo? She frowned, judging by the ornamentation on the armor the Order of the Red Heart was a Sigmarite order. She had tended the wounds of the Brothers of the Firey Heart more than once and she knew the look of them. Of course those knights hadn’t been there when she and her sisters had needed their protection. She shook the stray thought away, the point was that Sigmarites had notoriously little tolerance for the wizards of the Imperial College, and even less for their wild heretical cousins. It was possible she had simply misheard of course.

[b]“My Lady?” [/b]Gilbrecht  asked, politely yet firmly. Obidently she lowered the bucket to the ground and followed the knight. It didn’t seem appropriate to correct the man about her rank, her father had been a wealthy burger who had married a ruined noblewoman. Her father had gained the ancient but empty title and her mother had avoided the gutter but it wasn’t exactly a heraldry that would have done for the Imperial Court.

Gilbrecht led her through the main hall with deliberate haste. There was some excitment there, people striding back and forth purposfully but she was whisked out of the room before she could adsorb much of it. THey went through several smaller chambers until they arrived at a great kitchen. A stout woman in late middle age looked up from a cauldron of stew which she presumed was the garrisons dinner. The cook wore a bloody apron stained with days of food scraps. She dropped into a quick curtsey when she realised the lord of the castle was calling.

[b]“Elizabet, this is Lady…” [/b]the knight trailed off realising that he hadn’t been properly introduced in all the confusion.


[b]“Von Strashiem,” [/b]Hilde supplied helpfully, [b]“Hilde Von Strashiem.”[/b]

[b]“Lady Von Strashiem,”[/b] Gilbrecht agreed.

[b]“Take her upstairs, feed her bathe her and dress her appropriately, I will see to her after dinner.”[/b]

[b]“Yes Milord,”[/b] the woman snapped, her eyes sliding sideways to Hilde with an expression of disapproval for her mannish clothes and filthy state. Hilde flushed with anger at being so cavalierly disposed off but Gilbrecht was already striding from the room. The cook put both hands on her hips.

[b]“We don’t need the likes of you in a Sigmar fearing keep,”[/b] she declared sourly.


[@POOHEAD189]