Chapter 540: Trading Barbs
The Great Hall of Baron Hanrahan could most charitably be called ’rustic.’ To Isabell’s professional eyes, it felt like a relic of an era that Blackwell County had left behind more than a century ago. The windows of the Great Hall were narrow, and had clearly been designed to double as positions for archers to stand in defense of the manor rathather than being designed to allow in as much light as possible. While they had been fitted with glass panes at some point in the past century, the glass itself was warped and cloudy and copious amounts of lead had been used to fit them in place over the widened arrow slits. The ceiling was high and framed with timbers that supported dozens of chandaliers and the floor was strewn with fresh cut rushes, but no amount of surface treatments could make the aging fortress feel like anything other than a dark relic of an age where the thickness of your walls was the defining measurement of your ability to survive the assault of your enemies.
For Isabell and Tiernan, it felt like they were visiting the keep of one of Blackwell County’s fallen knights who refused to let go of the glory won by his ancestors, and Baron Hanrahan gave off much the same impression as those overly proud men back home.
"Master Isabell," the pot bellied baron called as he stood from his seat at the center of the high table. "Or should I be saying Dame Isabell now? No matter, you have come to join us and that’s all that matters," he said, gesturing to a seat across from his own position at the high table. "Please, come join Master Tiernan and the rest of us."
The welcoming banquet was smaller than Isabell had expected with only two tables of guests aside from the high table itself. For a gathering attended by Owain Lothian and Lady Jocelynn, it felt small enough to be insulting, without any of the local knights in attendance outside of Baron Hanrahan’s own immediate family.
Sitting beside the chubby baron, however, Owain seemed unbothered by the insult, as though the slight wasn’t directed at him, which could only mean that the lack of fanfare for her attendance here today was a slight aimed at her and Master tiernan.
"My younger brother has heaped great praise on you," a stylishly dressed man whose tunic was trimmed in dark fur said from his seat to the baron’s left. "What was it you said Hugo?" Bastian Hanrahan said, turning to look at Owain’s browbeaten Steward further down the table. "For a woman, she has both a clever mind and a surprising amount of common sense?"
"Bastian!" Hugo cried, startled out of his wits at the way his half-brother had misquoted him. "When did I ever say anything about Master Isabell being clever ’for a woman’? I’m sure I always told you how skilled a negotiator she was, with a great mind for details," he said, shooting an embarassed look at the master engineer as she took her seat.
"Well, well, that’s just to be expected, isn’t it?" Baron Hanrahan said with a cordial grin. "After all, women always do mind all the little things, it’s what they’re best at. Nitpicking this and that until they’ve lost track of the big picture and the things that are truly important. Though I suppose for a builder, that might be a useful trait."
"Baron Hanrahan," Owain interjected from the seat to the baron’s right side. "Please mind your words. Master Isabell has come all this way at my father’s request. She is a respected engineer, not just a simple builder," he said, smiling at Isabell as though he were a galant knight coming to her rescue.