"Stop!" Tarrin barked in a voice that cracked like a whip. They did so, instantly. They didn't even turn around to look at him. "Go find a Sorcerer, any Sorcerer, and bring them back here. Tell them that there's a Were-cat in the Tower, and to come see what it wants right away. I'm going to wait right where I'm standing." They hesitated. "Well? Move!"
They bolted down the stairs.
Tarrin leaned he back against the wall, idly checking the claws on his fingers for splits or other damage. He was starting to get surly about the whole affair. Getting himself caught wasn't supposed to be this much work.
Another man rushed up from the direction the maid had run, and the sound of metal jingling told Tarrin it was a guard long before he rounded the curve. He was a young man, burly, with a blue surcoat over a chain jack. He was carrying a drawn sword. He had dark hair and dark eyes, which were a bit wild at the sight of the emaciated Were-cat. "Oh, put the sword away," Tarrin snapped at him churlishly.
The man came to a stop and stared at him, obviously at a loss as to what to do. Tarrin marvelled at the base intelligence of the occupants of this tower. "Put the sword away," he said in a slow tone, as if addressing a child. "Turn around and go find someone in charge. Tell that someone that there is a Were-cat in the tower that wants to talk to someone with a mind. Bring them right back to this spot."
He too just stood there.
"Go!" Tarrin snapped.
He hastily turned and trotted away, still carrying his sword.
Tarrin leaned his head back against the wall. For their defense, he realized that his appearance here was probably a bit shocking. As formidable as the defenses and security were around the compound, it was probably quite unusual to see someone that looked like him prowling the halls. But that was three people off to bring back someone that he could talk to. He was sure that it wouldn't be very long.
The young man and woman indeed returned, not a moment later, with someone with them. He was a mature man, probably around forty, with specks of gray disturbing the continuity of his dark hair. He was thin and studious looking, with a long face and smallish ears, and his eyes were decorated by a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles sitting on the end of his nose. His brown eyes seemed to take in the entirety of Tarrin with only a single glance. He was wearing a severely plain brown robe, with a leather belt around his waist from which two leather pouches and a small dagger hung.
"Are you a Sorcerer?" Tarrin asked abruptly.
"Yes," he replied. "My name is Sevren Dallinson. Who might you be, stranger, and what business do you have with us?"
"My name is Tarrin Kael," he replied. "I was supposed to be coming with a Sorceress named Dolanna Casbane, but we were separated on the way here. If you could send someone to go get her, she can explain everything."
"I'm afraid I don't know all my sisters by name," he said dubiously. "Initiate, what is your name?" he asked the young woman.
"Tryla, Master," she replied obediently.
"Tryla, go to the Council of Seven and tell them of this development," he ordered. "Report that this visitor is looking for Dolanna Casbane. When you are done there, come back to, that room," he said, pointing to a door a bit down the hall. "We will be waiting there."
She curtsied to him, then turned and hurried down the stairs.
"Wendall, go to the kitchens and fix a very large tray of food. And bring some wine. Bring it back to us. Make sure it has plenty of meat," he ordered.
"Yes, Master Sevren," he said with a bow, then he too rushed off.
"You look about half starved," the Sorcerer noted with an appraising eye at Tarrin. "We can eat while we wait."
"If you can stand the way I smell, I'd be happy to have you at the table," Tarrin said with a rueful look.
"You must have had a rough time," he said. "Come, let's go sit. You can tell me more while we eat and wait. It looks to me like you're having enough trouble standing."
"To be honest, Master Sevren, this wall is about the only thing holding me up," he admitted with a chuckle.
Sevren offered out his arm to the Were-cat, who took it after only a moment's hesitation. He led Tarrin into the room, which was an almost exact copy of the bedchamber in which Tarrin had slept. These had to be guest quarters of some kind. They sat down at the table, and Tarrin yawned and stretched in his seat. "So, what was bringing you to our Tower?" Sevren asked curiously. "We don't get many of the Woodland folk here."
"You know what I am?" he asked in some surprise.
"I'm familiar with your kind, but I've never met a Were-kin before," he admitted.
"Well, it's not that I was coming here for any serious reason," he said, then he recanted some of the story of their trip from Aldreth. He didn't really talk about Jesmind. What he felt for her, and what had happened still seemed too private to discuss with a total stranger. But despite being a stranger, Tarrin rather liked Sevren. He was a calm, thoughtful man that had quickly eased most of Tarrin's fears with a few simple words and one act of kindness. Offering to help Tarrin into the room had told him much of what made up the sober looking man, and Tarrin could honor and respect that about him. That was why Tarrin told him anything at all.
He absorbed what Tarrin had to say. "If you don't mind, I may study some of the outward effects of your transformation," he said. "I know it sounds like I want to study you like a bug, but you have to admit that this is a good chance to learn. And what we discover may help someone else that has this happen."
"No, I really don't mind all that much," Tarrin told him. "I know what it was like for me, and I'd rather not have anyone have to go through it," he said with a shudder. Being used to it still didn't mean that he liked it. One could get used to a missing arm, but that was no reason to lop one off. "If I can help make it easier on them, then I don't mind at all."
"That's a good lad," he said with a smile.
The door opened, and three women entered, flanked by two armed guards, with the Initiate behind them. Two of them were unknown to him, but the third, dressed in a dark blue silk dress, was Dolanna. Tarrin smiled broadly and stood, ignoring the other two women to accept Dolanna's hand as she reached him. He stared into her eyes for a moment, then pulled her close and embraced her. She coughed and wheezed, then said "Tarrin, I need my ribs in one piece" in a gasping voice.
"I'm sorry, I'm just glad to see that you're alright," he said. "Are Faalken and-"
"They are all well," she assured him. "Tiella and Walten have already entered the Novitiate. Faalken has returned to the Academy, where he instructs pupils when not accompanying me." She pushed him away slightly. "Tarrin, may I present the Keeper," she said, motioning.
The woman to which she motioned was a very small woman, even smaller than Dolanna herself. She had dark hair, nearly black, that was streaked in a few places with silver, and was as petite as she was short. She was more handsome than she was pretty, just coming into her middle years, but in her dark eyes Tarrin saw a hardness that came with being a ruler. He could almost smell the aura of power around the small woman, an aura that made her seem to be much larger than she actually was. She wore no badge of her rank, only a simple silk dress in a modest brown, but it was obvious just looking at her that she was a woman of great power and importance. Those hard eyes took Tarrin in in a single glance, and he felt distinctly uncomfortable standing there in his filthy clothes.
"You're as thin as a stick," she noted in a clear, strong voice.