The table had no chairs, only benches along either side. The wardens hesitated. Obviously, benches stood outside palace protocol. Elen wondered what Prince Gevulin would do, were he here. Would he prove an adaptable man or a rigid one?

But of course, he wasn’t here. After a moment’s consideration, the haunt seated himself at the middle of one of the benches and gestured for Simo and Luviara to sit on either side of him. Jirvy, Xilsi, Ipis, and Kem sat opposite. Elen hesitated until the custodian gestured to the bench beside Luviara, who nodded. Thus, Elen found herself seated at the same table as a prince, even if he was really the haunt.

The custodian cleared his throat. He was an old man, white-haired and wiry. The prince did not seem to awe him. His hands bore heavy calluses; hard labor or constant war had been his life.

“Worthy Interlocutor, who speaks for His Exalted Highness, I am assigned to serve you and these honored travelers. I am a novice, come lately to the path of custodian.”

Luviara said, “We do not eat in the main dining hall with the residents of the temple?”

“This temple is a silent temple. Only a few of us have permission to speak. It is our task to conduct and serve those who overnight in the hostel. I pray you, let me speak the blessing over the food, so you may eat your fill.”

The haunt raised a hand to grant permission.

The custodian sang the blessing, then retired to the door. “If you need my services, I will be outside. It is not permitted for me to hear conversation of the world beyond the temple.” With a bow, he stepped outside and closed the door.

The hearth beat warmth over them. The world that lay outside these walls had fallen eerily silent, lacking even the whine of wind. The food smelled delicious. However rough the furnishings, the temple denizens ate very well indeed: pears and walnuts stewed with greens; legumes cooked in a creamy goat’s milk sauce flavored with onions, bay leaves, and thyme; a leek and cheese pie, hot from the oven; rounds of fresh rye bread; honey-squash pancakes; candied cloudberries that left a sticky sweetness on the lips.

Luviara took upon herself the tearing up and distributing of chunks of bread, but without Fulmo to act as menial, there was some confusion as to how the prince could eat. In the end, Simo tasted all the dishes first, after which the prince served himself in the same manner as his retinue, spooning out portions from the common platters.

After the first edge of hunger was settled, the haunt looked around the table. He was always examining, studying, trying to figure out the others, but also how far he could go.

He said, “Let us go on in the custom of the Warden Hall. Simo?”