Sauragia

Chapter 4

Robert Winstone (or “just Rob,” as he preferred) was a talkative fellow. It was a bit grating at times, but he could not help what was in his nature. And he was friendly enough that one could forgive his chattiness. Thus, he made a very agreeable companion for the relatively quiet Astron as he led the newcomer about the Palace grounds that morning. Astron took a liking to him right away, and found much of what he said useful.

Rob showed him first to the royal smithy, whose workshop was essentially a shed with a roof squeezed up against the eastern wall. Torvi, the smith, was a rather brusque Skaarosaur from lands across the Northeastern Sea. His tabard, smock, and once light grey foreclaws were all permanently stained with soot, and despite his gruff exterior, he was “a dinosaur who knows what he’s doing,” according to Rob. And Astron believed it. His array of tools and quick assessment of the sword bespoke a professional. He was also “a grand old chap, once he warms up to you.” Of this, Astron was less sure.

He left his sword in the care of the hard-scaled smithy and was whisked away by Rob back to the Palace, where he was shown the various rooms on all three floors. From the throne room and royal bedrooms on the third storey to the armoury on the second, and even the garden outside. The route was very random and confusing through all the doors and passageways, but Astron soon got used to it.

Eventually their tour led them to the cellars, where all the kegs of wine and assorted other provisions were stored. Somewhere Astron could hear the sound of running water.

“Oh, that’s just the spring,” explained his guide. “Did I mention the Palace was located on top of a spring? Most of Saurahall’s water comes from a couple wells in town, but here at the Palace we’ve got that. Tastes a bit better if you ask me. Anyway, on we go.”

Astron was led to a room with several basins full of water lining three sides. A narrow drainage channel covered with iron grating ran under them, and in the centre of the room was a fire pit, presumably to keep it warm in wintertime. Here, he was informed, was the bathing chamber for the Guard.

“King Henrik likes to have his soldiers clean,” explained Rob. “He insists that we at least try to wash every other day, though most just clean claws, tails, and faces in the mornings and evenings. You’re quite a sight, though, so I suggest the full course for you. Anyway, tools and towels are kept in that cupboard there. Just scrub away and empty out the basin when you’re done. I’ll go gather up your uniform and wait outside ‘til you’re finished.”

Astron found it a strange concept, bathing in the confinement of a tub. He decided he much preferred hopping in a lake or stream instead like he had done back in the South Country, but admittedly felt a great deal better afterward either way. He received his new outfit from Rob as promised. It was very plain: a leather tunic top inscribed with the emblem of the king, a pair of short trousers, and a set of arm and leg guards. He put it all on and strapped it together with a finely polished new sword belt, already equipped with a shiny new dagger.

“There now, you see! You look right dashing, my friend,” spoke Robert upon seeing his friend all fitted out. “Quite superb with the belt, if I say so myself. Now there’s just the matter of your one missing component.”

“And what’s that?”

“Your sword, of course! Let’s go and get it back, shall we?”

“Do you really think it’s done yet?” asked Astron doubtfully.

“Of course! Ole Torvi’s a real whiz with that sort of thing. Now come on and let’s finish up so we can be in time for supper. Really, a chap just isn’t dressed if he hasn’t got his sword, eh wot?”

Astron glanced sideways at his guide. “Then why aren’t you wearing one?”

“I…er…I’m off duty, so to speak,” replied the quick-thinking young guard as he gathered up Astron’s dirty garments. “An extended leave of sorts, that’s all.”

Astron nodded sagely. He did not completely buy that, but he saw no need to pry.

After turning in Astron’s old clothes to be laundered, they returned to Torvi to retrieve his sword. He was truly impressed by the blacksmith’s handiwork. The sword of Astron’s family was hardly recognizable as the one he had brought with him. Its blade had been straightened, polished, and sharpened, and the hilt had been rewrapped in leather strips. The once mighty weapon was restored to its old station. Astron thanked Torvi profusely, receiving a nod and a grunt in reply. He then slipped it into its sheath, wherein it fit more perfectly than ever.

“There now, what did I say?” remarked Rob. “You look like a real member of the Guard now. Yes indeed, the king’s finest.”

“Then perhaps you could tell a member of the Guard where he might find food at this hour,” said Astron. “I confess, I’m quite famished after walking all day.”

“Victuals?” Rob perked up. “Absolutely, old chap. Come with me to the mess hall. Bit early for supper, but I think the cook should have something for a starving soul like yourself. Usually does. He’s a very nice fellow if you rub him the right way.”

Rob led Astron to the nearly empty mess hall, where he was served an exquisite supper by the helpful and rather portly cook, Willy. A jovial old dinosaur, Willy had been the cook at Saurahall for as long as most could remember. He enjoyed his post immensely, and managed to find the bright side of everything—much like Rob. This was partly why the two got on so well together. Though he was an Alvarosaurus, it was hard to tell given his snubbed snout and expanded girth. He clearly lived by his motto of “Eat, live, and be happy.”

Willy took an immediate liking to Astron, who graciously accepted the food given him and delved in with relish. The three took to talking around the end of one of the long mess tables where Astron sat, the conversation mostly revolving around the new arrival. During this, they learned something of Astron’s past, and especially his sword.

“It’s been in my family for generations,” he explained, patting the fine cross-tree hilt. “Sort of like an heirloom, I guess. My father always told me that if I took good care of it, it would return the favour someday.”

“Well, it’s a right pretty blade, no doubt about it,” said the cook, eying it up and down.

“Indeed. I could tell even old Torvi was impressed, and that doesn’t happen often, friend,” added Rob.

“Yes. I’ve yet to test it for real, but I’m sure it will do the job well when the time comes.”

“I look forward to seeing that.”

“Well, I’m afraid it will have to wait,” spoke Astron then, stifling a yawn. “I think I could use some rest just now.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rob, quite disappointed. “I had hoped you’d stay a little while and meet the lads.”

“I’m sorry, Rob. Maybe tomorrow morning, eh?”

Rob perked up. “Righto! This way, Astron.”

Astron thanked Willy for his outstanding fare, and was promptly led off to the barracks, where he had a thorough look around. The common room of the barracks was an untidy one filled with back-slapping, weapon-toting, and generally good-natured young guards in various stages of dress chatting away after the day’s work. Their elders watched with reminiscent smiles from quiet corners, and the air was charged with a heavy male musk. Female guards were not unheard of, but they were fewer and had separate quarters on the second floor.

Rob led Astron unobtrusively around to the other side, which opened to a long corridor with doors along the left side and torches along the right. Coming to the ninth door on the left, Rob opened it and entered, gesturing for Astron to do the same.

“This’ll be your lodging henceforth,” spoke Rob. “It’s not much, but it’s home, and a lot nicer than most accommodations you’ll find on the road, I can tell you that.”

“It will do nicely. Thank you, Rob. For everything today.”

“Don’t mention it, old lad. I was glad to be of service to a nice chap like yourself.” He cast a parting glance around the little room. “Anyway, have a good rest, and if you need anything else, just speak up. My room’s”—he gestured with his claw—”at the end of the hall. Left-claw side, next to the Lieutenant’s quarters.”

“All right,” said Astron, at which Rob made an elegant bow, stepped out, and closed the door. Astron surveyed his simple room.

There was a bed with blankets and sheets in the corner, a chest with some spares at the foot of the bed, and a small nightstand to the side. A single window above the nightstand served as the main light source during the day, though there was a candle on it if needed. Like Rob had said: not much, but home. It would do.

Astron was quite tired after his long day. So, without further fuss, he quickly undressed and sprawled out on the soft, comfortable bedspread. Then, after uttering a heartfelt evening prayer, the young Alvarosaurus fell fast asleep.