RYUUNA UMTHELEMAAR<br/><br/>The walk back home was always enjoyable, especially if I had been gathering in the western woods. It meant that as I broke camp before dawn and came out of the trees and down the upland slopes towards the fields the sun was rising in my face and warming my skin and lighting up the dew steamed grasses that dampened my bare feet.<br/><br/>I love the rising sun, promising a new day, another chance to move among people and serve them and help others, I might even meet a complete stranger today, that was always enjoyable.<br/><br/>I strode down the lane between high banked hedges and waved to Gremble as he tilled his south field. The lane ended at the highway - we call it the highway as it is the only paved road hereabouts though really it is not that grand, but it is the only road you can walk along in wet weather and not end up ankle-deep in mud.<br/><br/>It had been another successful adventure, three days and nights over the full moon gathering berries, thyme, Roachwood and Belmarsh cups, Poki mushrooms and Stemgrass. My knapsack bulged with good things and my step was light and eager.<br/><br/>I came to the clustered houses and lifted a hand in greeting to the two soldiers who leaned on their spears and watched the early travellers that dawn had roused and encouraged to arrive early into Meadowvale. I knew both men, Tonny and Hergrud, both good lads who answered to Captain von Rathman. We all called him The Captain, though I do not know if that was his rank, but he was the senior officer and he had the bearing of one who had commanded many. Privately I wondered why such a soldier had been posted here to watch over such a tiny place. I didn't begrudge that at all of course, he knew his trade though it did make me fret at times that such a soldier might become bored in such a position.<br/><br/>I reached my small neat house under it's low curved crown of thatch and said hello to Margerite who was collecting eggs from her hen-coop. She greeted me in return and offered me two for my breakfast. I smiled and thanked her and gave her a sprig of Stemgrass for her Robert's rheumatism.<br/><br/>I dropped my bedding roll, cooking pots and my few other items in the scullery and drew a bucket from the well in my front garden, splashing water on my face and wrists, wiped down and made my way to the inn.<br/><br/>(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Ryuuna07-1.jpg)<br/><br/>Margerite's eggs would be nice on the morrow, scrambled on a huge flat-capped Brokken mushroom as big and round as a cloth cap. Today I hankered after porridge and there was one place you go to get the best porridge for miles around. Todd's Market Tavern. After the chapel, the squires house and the guardhouse, Todd's was the most imposing building in the village and it stood, four-square, slate roofed and wooden framed at one side of Market Broad, the wide patch of packed dirt where the tradesmen pitch their stalls and which is the heart of our little community.<br/><br/>I wiped my feet on the rush mats outside, sprinkling the soles with elderwater from a small stone bottle I carried in my knapsack; a ritualised cleansing practice I never omitted. I mounted the three wide stone steps to the porch. Entering the gloomy and sweet-smelling main room I greeted Todd who was making up a fire of apple logs and took my usual seat at a small table in one of the inglenooks. Here it was private enough to converse with a patient who did not wish to be overheard, yet open enough that I could comfortably observe the room and doorway.<br/><br/>I did not set out my things, trading and practitioning would come later, after the important business: breakfast!<br/><br/><strong>"A bowl of your finest breakfast recipe, please Todd, and a cup of green tea if you would. I can pay today as well. Here. For Susan."</strong>I held out a little muslin bag of fresh herbs and dried rolled Poki, enough for his pregnant wife to keep in full health for a month.<br/><br/>My meal arrived and I ate, sipping at the delicious tea and watching the comings and goings of the early morning travellers. I noted a rugged looking fellow standing at the bar in britches, tunic and vest, a sword and knife at his belt and his boots unusually clean. He had not walked far this morning, perhaps only as far as a tent pitched by the highway just outside the village or a bunk at the Horsetail Inn. I did not recognise him, though it was not uncommon for many to travel through on the highway.