Seigneuresse de Trencavel wishes the men good luck in the search for the young cleaning maid and gives them leave to use her resources in the form of horses, competent staff or anything else they should need.

Quin rides up to the building works, happy to be out and horsed on a warm day with a fair wind despite the errand in hand. A wild hawk circling high in the blue catches his attention for a moment, but he soon refocuses on the path and the proximity of difficult interactions.

"Was there anyone nominally in charge, last you were here?" he asks Johann

"No, not that I recall. In fact, they seemed to think that they could not keep working for much longer without the Master Builder to guide them. ...And now he is dead..."

"Oh, I'm sure they have charts and plans and such enough to last them until a new man is sent for," Quin responds with perhaps unwarranted optimism. "So long as they don't forget to put doorways in walls and such, the work itself seems pretty straightforward."

He kicks on ahead, trotting into the midst of the work and reining Etienne about in a circle until he's caught the attention of most people in view. "Halloa the camp!" he calls, beckoning the workers to gather and those that had followed him to come up and help explain.

Michal rides along behind the two knights.
It is his place, and also where he is comfortable.   As a soldier, he follows ... and that suits him just fine (so long as the cause, and the leadership, is just).

Most of the workers are gathered in a permanent encampment on the eastern side of the river, just north of the bridge. The mood is somber and most of them chew their stew silently as the descending sun glitters in the rapid waters. When Quintillian call they stand and do as the knight orders. Though it takes a while for all of them to gather, eventually it seems most of the workers are accounted for, standing in a rough circle around the men from the manor.

A gruff red-haired woman in the first line, stone-dusty arms across the chest returns the greeting. "Hello to you, sir knight. What's with all the hollering?"

Quin dismounts easily next to this emissary on his next pass and takes a step back to address her face rather than her neck and the bottom of her chin. There's the typical easy smile that covers a moment of thought, though Ragonde can likely follow his process of seeing the stone dust on her arms, the leathern apron on her skirts, and working out that she must be an exceptional mason as well as a smith to retain her employment.

"Quintillian de Sérignac, Master Mason," he promotes her on the spot, since his name speaks to his authority, "-your predecessor succumbed to his injuries some hours ago and I came here to pass on the news and sort out the situation."

"Would you kindly tell me what is likely to stop work on my lady's project, my good von Fulda where he might find someone who knows Jehanne of the Laundy's parents or dwelling-place, and...healer, did the dead man pass any last words to you that might concern those here?" he turns to Michal at the last.

Michal simply shook his head, indicating a 'no', but did not speak.

His eyes moved across and through the worksite, looking for any clues ... or information of interest.

Ragonde grimaces and looks away for a moment, watching the white water of the river with something like grief in her eyes before answering. She shakes her head and looks back at Quin. "I'm a great mason, chivalier, but I'm no architect. Ulrich had that great bearded head of his in the cloud most of the time but he was a genius. Not many can do what he did." She shakes her head. "We can go on for a couple of months, I think, bit no one here can finish the design on the remaining arches and the flanking towers." She notices Johann. "You, you said you would talk the the lady for us. What instructions did she give? What should we do now?"

Michal looks around the site but nothing really seem amiss. The 20 something workers assembled at the camp are subdued and most of them look worried at the news of the death of the architect. You see the scared boy from before huddling by the fire, stirring the pot of gruel hanging in a chain from an iron tripod. The half-finished castle looms just beside you where you stand beside the workers camp. A couple of carpenters sit on a recently started wall nearby, a flanking tower judging by the contours. The absence of the usual, never-ending sound of work from smiths, masons, carpenters and so on is almost deafening and all you hear is the roar of the river and conversation between Ragonde and the knights. The site smells heavily of wood smoke, stone dust and fresh mud.

While all eyes gathered remained upon the Knights and the newly appointed Master Mason, Michal slowly and casually drifted off among the unwashed mass of workmen ... finding himself soon coming to sit beside the fire, with the scared boy.
"How are you doing, son?" he asked, as non-threateningly as he could.

Michal was hoping to create some small morsel of connection with the boy.

Johann shakes his head. "There is nothing I can say about that right now. Most talk was before the master builder actually died. I did try to make it understood that you didn't think you could finish the work without him, but... my words were not taken very seriously. Now that he is dead, I think the matter will be taken with much more urgency."

Quin had thrown an amused and curious grin over to Johann at being put aside by the master mason and her brusque address of the knight himself, but breaks into their conversation anyway: "She instructed that we should find his killer, dòna - does anyone here have knowledge of where the girl might live?"