Roy was about to give the pale young beastkin a hard shove to get him moving, when his attention was turned to the entrance.
The soldier that Hudson sent to retrieve the informant had just returned. The Margay was dressed in ill fitting garmets, an indication to Roy of his fall in status. No longer was he a free man nor a soldier in ranks. He was worth nothing more than a slave now, a prisoner of war.
The dirty brown tunic the male wore was long enough to brush the floor and was caked in mud and who knows what. Even a random piece of driftwood would be more attractive than this unfortunate male's soft form.
He was a short, fat, male with stooped shoulders, a bald head and his eyelids were so heavily laden with extra folds of skin that they appeared hooded. Though he looked liked an owl, Roy felt this male had the heart of a vulture, betraying his tribesmen, disgusting.
"Come forward." Roy commanded.
The Margay did as he was ordered. When he readed the front of the warriors, he made a low bow. "My name is James. I am ever your faithful servant, my lords"
Roy stood by Hudson's side in front of the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back. Hudson looked thoroughly exhausted, gripping his cloak tightly in an attempt to ward off the cold.
Roy noticed the pales of his companion, the fevered look in his brown eyes and the sudden shivers that rake his body. Immediately, he ordered a chair to be carried over to the fireplace.
"Bring your leader a full cup of amber brew," he called out to one of Hudson's soldiers standing sentry near the entrance. "Make one of the Margeys take the first swallow. If they do not die, we will know that the brew is not poisoned."
Hudson grumbled over Roy's order. "I am every bit as fit as you are," he muttered. "I'll be seeing to my own wants, thank you very much. Do however bring me that warm amber brew, thanks." stated Hudson, turning to look at his soldier.
"Yes, you are as fit as I am," Roy quickly agreed, "but you've fought and come out victorious in double the number of battles this past week. The king would be awarding you with your feats."
That was a lie, of course. However, Roy sought to appease his friend's pride. As a peacock beastman, Hudson's beastform was afterall, the symbol of vanity and pride, due to the dramatic colourful display of feathers used to court females.
"I, too, would be weary if I had accomplished half the number of victories you've had in the King's name."
Hudson was appeased, muttering in agreeement, "Yes, it's the truth, you would be weary. Why, you are falling behind my friend, it would be tough to catch up to me though."
Roy held his smile and turned his attention back to the informant. Thankfully he had not dented his friend's pride. "Tell me about this tribe," he ordered, "Everything know"
The Margay moved out of the way as a soldier carried a large high-backed chair over to the hearth, a warm leather covering was put on top of the seat before the soldier stepped back to offer Husdon his seat. James waited quietly until Hudson was seated before answering, eyes following the two warrior's move.
"My lord, the immediate parents of this particular household are both dead. This is the tribe leader's household that we are currently within. The female master of this house has other mates, which are all either dead or indisposed after their female's passing. Most if not all are buried in the family's plot on top of the crest to the North of the tribe's dwellings."
Jame's neck began to ache from having to tilt his head all the way back in order to look up at the warrior's face. When the crick became too irritating, he turned his gaze to the floor.
The action proved a blessing, for the tightness in his chest immediately loosened once he wasn't looking directly at the warrior's scarred face.
The warrior's eyes were just as terrifying as the hideous scar that covered most of his right cheek, James admitted. His hard, cold gaze was far more intimidating than his size or his marks.
"Now, tell me about the other members of this family," Roy commanded.
James hurried to answer. "There are three cubs to the female of this family. The eldest is male, a full sibling to Eris. It was reported that he died during the first battle. This hasn't been verified yet."
"Keep going"
"There is another male, his name is Timo. He is the youngest in the family and only half sibling to the Princess Eris. He was injured in the same battle. In a small isolated shrine, there are old healers there taking care of him now. It isn't believed Timo will live though. His injuries were quite severe."
As Roy was taking in the information, he suddenly realised Bryant still hadn't moved to carry out his orders. Standing by his leader's side listening intentively instead. "Did I not order you to bring the healer to me?" he demanded, annoyed by the incompetent second in command.
"I did not kow you meant to question her, my lord."
"It isn't your duty to know what I plan to do, Bryant. You are to obey without question." Roy answered, a deep rumbling growl echoed from his chest through the great hall.
Bryant took a deep breath. "She isn't here." he blurted out.
Roy resisted the urge to strangle his vassal. "Explain yourself." he ordered, voice devoid of all emotion.
It took Bryant all the courage he possessed to meet his lord's stare. "Healer Frey requested an escort to the Shrine, as the temporary one here on site was inadequate. She'd given her word to the other healers she'd be back before dark. She is most concerned about her brother, he is the youngest in the family and battling for his life as we speak."
Throughout the halting explaination, Roy hadn't shown any reaction. Bryant didn't have the faintest idea what the warrior was thinking. The not knowing made him more anxious, putting a squeak into his voice and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.
"The brother's injuries are life threatening, she wanted to sit by his side through the night as her superiors worked to heal him. She promised me she would be back here with us in the morning. Surely, then she will answer any questions you have for her."
Roy had to take a deep calming breath before he dared to speak again, "And if she doesn't return to us in the morning?" he asked, in a mild, thoroughly controlled voice.