The tallest tower of Grassfield Keep, Raven’s Tower, was the domain of the Meadows’ maester. At the top was the rookery where Hubert tended the ravens, beneath that was his private room, and beneath that was his study. On the ground level, a room mostly unused, had been converted into a sickroom.
A narrow bed had been brought in and placed beneath the window. A little sunlight filtered in, but there was nothing to be seen but a solid wall of greenery keeping anyone who cared to look from peeking in or out to the garden beyond. Harben was propped on a stack of pillows, looking at the leaves that crossed just inches from the frame. He skin was ashen, and he wore a simple shirt, open at the neck, the common fabric undyed. A peasant’s shirt.
Whatever the room usually held had been removed. There was nothing but the bed and a low stool the maester sat upon to tend the boy. The room smelt fresh and airy, lacking the dreary stench of sickness. A sheen of sweat clung to Harben’s brow, despite the stone helping keep the room cooler than outside.
