Upon Saeryn's request for a story, Bethberry had become lost in reminiscence, thinking of the little lost soul who had earnestly planted apple pips in the east garden. Who had once knocked at The White Horse's door late, late one night. Madi had been his name. Madi Codex. Her hand went to the amber ball he had given her, which she kept in her pocket. She could still hear his impatient thudding at the door now...
Until Ruthwen shook her out of her waking dream. They were all ascurry now, briinging warm water and warm blankets to the aid of this other lost soul.
"Eodwine, my thanks, for bringing her in. And to you Falco also." A voice of solemn timbre acknowledged their help even though Bethberry's eyes were on the young woman.
"For now, Saeryn, I ask that you help Frodides in the kitchen to prepare some warm broth. And ask Aedre to light a fire, a strong fire, in the small guest room beside the kitchen. It will prove doubly warm for her when we are able to move her. If you will take accept my taking up your offer of help."
Saeryn nodded with relief that there was yet more she could do.
"The floor is cold. Eodwine, Falco, Ruthven, help drag a long table here, upon which she can lay." With only a minimal amount of confusion and some correction of direction no doubt due to the third tankard that had been imbibed, the three brought forth a table, upon which the blankets and Saeryn's cloak were laid and wrapped lightly around the young lass.
The Healer looked over her bruised and battered body. The cuts and scrapes would need washing and the blanched feet and fingers light swaddling. It would not do to wrap them too tightly, for circulation must be brought back to them. Over the swaddlings the old woman Ruthven chafted the cold feet gently with her boney, crooked hands, her fingers shaking but slightly with a tremour of age. The heroes of the moment, Eodwine and Falco, each took a small hand and held it to bring back colour and warmth. Bethberry turned to address the lass.
"Is your stomach ailing? Any pains there? I cannot give you broth if you are hurt inside. "
A wan face turned away from the fire towards the Innkeeper. The bedraggled head weakly shook an answer of "No."
"Then let us warm you here first, and feed you, and I shall attend to your hurts once we can see the blood colour your cheeks again, from the inside where it belongs."
"There's a story here," whispered Falco, but loudly enough for all to hear. Eodwine raised his eyes impatiently at the halfling.
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