Merryia awoke, as was her custom, with the sun. This simple fact pleased her greatly, for she was used to a life on the road, sleeping in small roadside inns or the lofts of barns, and she had feared that the quarters Uncle Kennan had provided her, with its thick feather mattress and soft, warm quilts would spoil her and lead her into lethargy. As it was, she arose at what she felt was a respectable time, and upon removing her smock, washed her hands and face in the basin with water from the bedside ewer. That done Merryia selected a simple costume consisting of boots, hose, kirtle and a cloth cap. She was going to be in the stables for most of the day, and anything more elaborate would just get in the way.
Pausing in front of a small mirror, Merryia spent a few moments combing the tangles out of her hair. The youngest of six, Merryia's mother had died while she was still very young, and her father had brought her up as he had his first five sons. Thus, she had never felt comfortable in the trappings usually thought proper for a woman of gentle birth, and tended to dress in a more practical manner, often dressing in a manner more fitting a man. Not that this worried her, for the responsibilities of her chivalric order far outweighed any need to adhere to popular fashion.
Having finished dressing her hair, and somewhat satisfied that she now made a presentable figure, Merryia made ready to head downstairs to the tower's main hall. Although Merryia normally disregarded the elements of fashion that didn't suit her, she felt it important to look her best around her Uncle, for seeing her so always seemed to cheer him.
Making her way down the stairs and to great hall, Merryia was more than a little relieved to find that the kitchen was deserted for the moment. Although she would never admit it to her Uncle, there were times when his mystical talents unsettled her, a feeling not helped by the tendency for the tower's servants to appear and vanish on a seemingly random basis. Breaking her fast on a wedge of cheese, a hunk of bread and cold beer, Merryia left the kitchen to wind her way through the tower's tangled passages and down to the stables.
Entering the stables, Merryia paused, breathing in the rich scents of hay and horses. Walking down the straw-strewn floor, she stopped at a pair of adjacent stalls.
"Steel, Stone..." she whispered, smiling at the whickering answers to her query.
Stepping forward, Merryia extended a carrot for her two horses to munch upon delightedly. Stone was a handsome palfry, long legged and deep chested, built for speed, but capable of bearing most of Merryia's worldly goods with ease. Steel, on the other hand, was a massive destier, broad across the shoulders, bread and trained for only one purpose, to bear a fully armored knight into battle. He towered over his smaller companion, and made Merryia seem tiny by comparison, but he was aware of her slightest action, and normally it took no more than a word and a touch to have him respond to Merryia's wishes.
Opening the stall doors, Merryia led both horses by their traces out into one of the tower's many courtyards. There, she spent most of the morning, exercising both animals, scrubbing them down, and generally seeing to their well-being. Her Uncle's stable hands may or may not have been as competent as he claimed, but there were some things Merryia preferred to do herself.
Finally, as the noonday sun began to make its presence known, Merryia brought both her charges back into the relative cool confines of the stables. After resupplying them with a sufficient quantity of feed, she returned to the kitchens to find out what might be available for dinner.
Unlike her earlier visit, Merryia found the kitchen to be alive with activity, as the cook and his numerous helpers prepared for the evening meal. Helping herself to some freshly cooked poultry, she added some bread, cheese and an assortment of vegetables, washing it down with a great draught of beer.
Dinner finished, Merryia ventured into the tower's subterranean chambers. There, Uncle Kennan had constructed training rooms, so that one may practice their skill at arms. She spent most of the rest of the afternoon there, practicing at the pell and the quintain, relishing the feel of her whalebone practice sword in her hand. It reminded her of afternoons with her older brothers, helping them into their armor, watching them fight with rebated swords and sturdy wooden maces. Eventually, when she was old enough, she had donned armor as well. Her father had never forbidden it, and her brothers, who considered her more of a younger brother anyway, quickly found her to be a worthy opponent. Pausing after her workout, she smiled, such activities were her secret joy, allowing her to relive, however briefly, a much simpler time.
Returning to her room, Merryia found a not from Kennan, requesting her presence at dinner. Realizing her present state was most unfit for his company, she had a bath drawn. The large wooden tub placed before the fire, and filled with water heated in a great iron cauldron. Soaking in the tub, she enjoyed a cup of fine, and a plate of fresh fruit, rising only after the water had lost it's pleasant warmth.
Preparing for dinner, Merryia dressed herself in coathardie of fine brocade, hose and low leather boots. As was usual for her dress, the coathardie was dark in color, contrasting sharply with the white hose. Over this Merryia added her only adornment, a heavy gold chain worn over the shoulders, the badge of her order hanging from it. A white belt, cut thin and set with strap ends, buckle mounts and small sliver stars completed the her outfit.
Dinner was a long affair, involving as usual, several courses comprised of a bewildering variety of meats, bread, cheese, boiled vegetables, grains, and great quantities of wine and ale. As Kennan's niece, and a favored one at that, Merryia sat at the 'high table' to Kennan's right, and politely endured his constant referrals as his "little dove". Following dinner, Merryia spent several hours engaging her Uncle and his guests in several games of chess, amazing and delighting them with her skill. Eventually, she felt weariness overcome her, and bidding her Uncle goodnight, retired to her room.
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