The two magi found the smell of soup coming from the ground floor of the Round Tower a distraction from their discussion of laboratory layounts and favoured sorts of working table so they took themselves, several slates with scribbled notes on them and a list of already assembled equipment down to the dining hall where they found grogs and servants already settling down to a midday feast that was as substantial as that they had enjoyed the previous night.
They managed to find a cornerr of the ‘high table’ where the seneschal was seated and he sent his young son along with them to show them where food could be obtained and provide them with bowls and platter. They sat down to eat and had soon forgotten their surroundings, plunging into the depths of magic theory and practice.
Hubertus noticed when a messanger came and fetched the seneschal and his son was left to clear up after him. About fifteen minutes later a worried looking Julia popped her head into the hall and gestured towards the two magi.
“We have a slight problem. I think you might need to see this, Hubertus.”
And she led her way to where the seneschal was standing in the courtyard by a tall, well favoured man dressed in chain with a tabard that bore the arms Sable, three roundels or. Hubertus recognised it easily as the arms of the Guimsey family, a notable brood of petty noblemen from Norfolk way. And this must be the new Constable of the nearest town.
Who was saying: “…That’s all very well, sir. But this is all a little… elaborate for a mere country squire isn’t it? Who are all these people? And I don’t recognise that” and he gestured at the Round Tower, all shiny in new black stone “from the description left by my predecessor.”