Session Sixty-Four - March 28, 2009

[Matt]

Halane 29, 731

The day began innocently enough. As it often was on Harn, it was slightly cloudy, and a gentle warm breeze flowed off the river through the streets of Tashal.

After a small breakfast, the party met in Sir Ewen’s study to discuss their next move; they still did not trust their new servants. Characteristically, there was a great deal of discussion, and no resolution. Sir Baris’s mind wandered, and as he looked out the window he thought to himself that today would be a lovely day to get out of the city and do some training with Quinn. Then he remembered, again, for the thousandth time, that Quinn was dead. He felt that empty feeling in his stomach again.

Suddenly, there was a discreet knock at the door and a moment later the steward entered. “So sorry to disturb you, Sir Ewen, but I thought you would want to see this. There is a parade of sorts outside the door.”

“Someone has arrived in town?” the knight queried.

“It would appear so,” the steward replied diffidently.

Now that he was not focused on his own demons, Sir Baris realized he had been hearing quite a bit more commotion out on the street than usual. He joined the rest the group looking outside the window in the hall. A large cavalcade was wending its way down the street, headed towards Osel House. Through the dust kicked up by the wind and wagons, Sir Baris could just make out Maldan Harabor and perhaps his son, Mirald, sitting atop their horses.

Sir Ewen looked more closely, and noticed the absence of any signs that Harabor’s wife was present: there was no carriage or other appropriate conveyance in evidence.

It was nearly noon by the time the cavalcade had passed. By then, the party had gotten back to its usual discussion.

“Harabor has returned. That rather forces the issue of what to do about him, does it not?” Sir Baris stated.

The party discussed the problems surrounding the earl, especially the fact that the sword they held over his head was ending its useful life. Eventually the group decided to hand over the head of Sedris Meleken to Harabor in return for land, a few manors, to be precise, along with certain legal assurances that Harabor would not suddenly take them away. Filen was sent to investigate Maldan Harabor’s holdings. Around two o’clock in the afternoon he returned and delivered his report.

“Part of the problem you have is that some of these manors are located in places you don’t want them,” Filen began. “Some are already held by others, and would require displacing them. There is a great manor near Heru, so near Heru in fact, you could throw a stone from it and hit Heru keep, as it’s directly across the river from the keep. In Inbernel, there is a set of three manors, with subinfeudated manors beneath them, as it were. One of those second manors is held by a knight, the other two are held by bailiffs. Inbernel is large, covering almost one thousand nine hundred and sixty acres. The other manor, held by a bailiff, Clayden, is one thousand three hundred and fifty acres. Selepan, a mere nine hundred and twenty acres, is held by clan Lavalgen. These manors are all in the Habimas hundred, which is south of Ternua.

“Interestingly enough, during my investigations, I happened to learn the names of Lady Thilisa’s three dower manors. She will have the income to these for her lifetime, and on her death they will revert to the earldom of Osel. One is Gramont, the other two are Thessar and Hellba. These last two are a short ride from Gardiren.”

With these new details, the party began discussing exactly what they wanted in return for slaying Sedris Meleken. Around three o’clock, Filen was sent to attend to the legal matters pertaining to the upcoming extortion. Imarë was sent to deliver a dinner invitation to Maldan Harabor.

Kaelyn spent most of the day trying to learn a new spell. Unfortunately, Sir Baris was still recovering from his ordeal, and made quite a bit of noise. It seemed to him she came out almost every ten minutes to complain. She couldn’t understand why the knight kept getting out of bed to stomp around. Sir Baris did his best to hide his grin.

Meanwhile, Sir Ewen went to visit Rahel to inquire about retrieving Sedris, or at least his head. After he arrived an some preliminary discussions, Rahel asked the all important question of when and where the knight intended to separate Sedris’s head from the rest of his body. “After the papers are signed, of course,” Sir Ewen said. “In the study.”

“Won’t the servants take it amiss?” the lady pointed out.

“Hm.” Ewen was silent, thinking. “What do you suggest?”

A short discussion over the logistics of head execution and delivery occurred, at the conclusion of which Rahel offered to deliver the head in a very fine box at eight o’clock, unless she received a stay of execution by seven o’clock. Sir Ewen agreed.

Imarë returned from her errand, to find Kaelyn once again stomping over to Sir Baris’s room.

The day passed. Sedris Meleken, who, it is to be hoped, had woken that morning quite happy to be alive, suddenly found himself otherwise.

At some point in the late afternoon, Filen and Marhet arrived with the appropriate legal documents to transfer the manors the party had chosen. They retired to the lounge on the third floor to await Harabor’s arrival.

By six o’clock, the servants nearly had dinner ready, although there was a little bit of grumbling about the short notice of the visit of an earl, but the majordomo quickly put an end to that. The head table was set, but not the lower tables. The majordomo had wisely decided that the arrival of this earl was a private matter. Ewen had meditated and was in the proper state of mind. Sir Baris sat in the main hall, smoking a pipe, anxiously awaiting the show. He was unarmored, but his sword still hung on his belt. The privileges of rank were quite useful sometimes. Other times, they could be quite a hindrance to accomplishing one’s goals, the sometime rat-catcher thought.

Six-fifteen came and went, and there was no sign of Harabor. So did six-thirty. Around six forty five, Cekiya was sent running to Hag Hall, perhaps the first time she had been sent to stop a death. The steward was beside himself. The food was getting cold! Sir Baris wondered if Harabor would mind a slightly rotted head. At seven fifteen, there was a knock on the door, and the steward rushed to answer it. There was a man at arms at the door, fully mailed and beweaponed. “My lord, the Earl of Osel,” the man at arms said and stepped aside. Harabor, also in full armor and bearing a sword stepped into Raven Hall.

He looked around with a sneer. “This old pile?” he said derisively.

Sir Ewen walked up to greet the Earl. “My lord, you do me honor to visit me.”

Harabor looked at him. “I suppose I do, Ewen, I suppose I do. But your note was so artfully worded that I found myself filled with curiosity.”

“I hope to sate your curiosity tonight, my lord.”

“But not on an empty stomach, apparently,” Harabor said, walking over to the high table, grabbing some food as he went by. He plopped himself down on the center seat, sat back, and put his feet up. Some dust and mud from his boots fell onto the table. The servants looked slightly aghast, but did their best to hide it. One swallowed a gasp. Harabor’s man at arms took a position near his master, standing near the fireplace.

“Make yourself at home,” Sir Baris said under his breath from a couple seats away.

“Otto,” Harabor said to his guard, “sit.” He gestured to a seat to his right. Otto sat at the high table.

Sir Ewen called upon his inner discipline to remain calm. The nerve of the man! He dismissed the servants with a look, and walked over to the low table. From there in a calm and measured tone he suggested that, “Perhaps your lordship and I would be more comfortable conversing here.” Ewen had never attempted to plant such a suggestion before, and wasn’t sure of the outcome.

For a second Harabor hesitated, but then shrugged his shoulders, “Why not.” He picked himself up, and flagon in one hand and chicken in the other, came over to sit by Ewen. Otto’s jaw dropped briefly. Sir Baris was grinning from ear to ear. He stabbed a capon with a dagger and chewed it thoughtfully, enjoying the duel.

“It appears we will be neighbors,” Ewen began.

“I suppose so, although I don’t know why you would want this pile. What did they rook you for?”

“A decent amount,” Ewen replied. “It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“I must say, you do like to keep some of the house winnings for yourself.”

Sir Ewen cleared his throat. “It seems that, with us being neighbors, it would be best if the cloud that hangs over the earldom of Osel is dealt with.”

The flagon stopped halfway to Maldan’s lips, and he put it down, giving the knight his full attention.

“I think we could come to an agreement this evening,” Ewen continued. “It would remove a certain burden from the earldom.”

“Otto, I’m sure there is something to occupy you in the kitchen,” Harabor said to his man-at-arms.

The guard started, and looked around, apparently a little flummoxed about the location of the kitchen. Smiling, Sir Baris pointed the way with his dagger, another capon on its tip.

After the guard had left, Ewen continued. “My Lord, I am prepared to give you Sedris Meleken tonight,” Ewen stated flat out. Harabor laughed. “That is, if we can come to an agreement.”

“Well, would it be my right arm, or my left, my testicle, or my firstborn? Wait, you want the earldom itself.”

Sir Ewen smiled. “I am a practical man, I have taken the liberty of drafting some papers for you to consider.”

“Drafted some papers?” Harabor asked. “What pray tell do these papers contain?”

“Sir Baris, please fetch Marhet,” Ewen said. Baris stood up slowly, and grabbed another capon. “I’ll be right back,” he said and trotted out. Shortly thereafter, Sir Baris, Marhet, and Filen returned.

The lawyer went to greet Harabor, but the earl was having none of it. “Sit down and get on with it. I know who you are, hunchback.”

While the earl was occupied, Ewen discreetly asked Sir Baris, “Has Cekiya returned?”

“I did not see her,” Baris replied. “I’ll go ask that word be sent to me when she does.” The knight went to the kitchen, and found Cekiya waiting there for him.

***

It was dark, and Cekiya was running down the streets of Tashal, on her way to Hag Hall. What if Rahel’s clock was fast? What if Ewen’s clock was slow? Or what if Rahel just didn’t care?

At Hag Hall, a very slightly winded Cekiya was greeted by a servant and then was left to stew in the kitchen until she was certain it was after seven o’clock. Eventually, Rahel deigned to join her. “Ah, right on time,” Rahel said. From a door behind her, Harth entered the kitchen carrying a beautiful box. Made of a rare wood called Makassar, it was bound in iron strips, two on either side. Metal protected each corner, and there was a padlock on front. Harth placed the box on the table in front of Cekiya, and handed her the key. “For your master,” Rahel said.

“I hope he has someone to give it to.”

“If he doesn’t, send it back and I will store it until he has need of it again.”

“This is too precious,” Cekiya said cheerfully. “Can I take a peek?”

“No, this is for your master. I will give you the key, and you give it to him when he asks, and not before. Now do your job. If you don’t do your job, you will see the sable streets of Kamil sooner than you thought.”

Daffodil seems very tense today, Cekiya thought to herself as she gathered up the box and made her way back to Raven Hall.

***

On the table in front of Cekiya was a beautiful box, and Sir Baris felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. “This had better work.” The knight returned to the main hall and quietly reported to Sir Ewen that, “She’s back, with a box.”

Marhet was fussing about with the documents, handing one copy to Ewen and one to Harabor. At first the earl glanced at the papers dismissively, and then with growing interest. Eventually, he looked up. “This is it?” he asked.

“Yes my lord,” Marhet replied. “I believe you will find everything in order.”

“You want three manors?” Harabor asked Sir Ewen.

“That is all.”

“Where do I sign?” Harabor asked ebulliently. “But first, where is Sedris Meleken?” he asked quickly.

Sir Ewen blinked. Sir Baris smiled. “My lord?”

Realizing he had let slip a secret in front of the lawyer and herald, Harabor quickly tried to cover himself. “No, no, you misunderstand me. We need some wine, and need to make a toast to Sedris, wherever he is.”

After the toast, Harabor returned to the matter at hand. “Only three manors? You could have had that months ago.” He sipped his wine.

“I was surprised I had not heard from you earlier,” Ewen replied. “But I am a patient man.”

“The assassin I had considered for you would have cost almost as much.” He laughed with little mirth. “Only joking. You, lawyer, and your apprentice,” at this last Filen visibly stiffened. “Wax, ink.” These things were brought to him, and Harabor signed, sealed, and then held onto both documents.

“Your job here is done, hunchback, go home,” Harabor said to Filen.

“My Lord,” the lawyer said, and left.

“You too, apprentice.”

“I am a herald, my lord,” Filen replied.

“Filen is my personal herald,” Ewen explained. “Filen, I will see you in the morning.” The herald retired.

Now that the room was empty save for conspirators, Harabor continued to the matter at hand. “Now, produce Sedris Meleken, and you can have this,” he said, waving Sir Ewen’s copy of the document.

“Bring Cekiya in, Sir Baris.” Still smoking his pipe, the knight got up, opened the kitchen door and motioned for Cekiya to come in. The woman came in, carrying the box, which she set at the end of the high table. Without a word, she handed the key to Sir Ewen.

Harabor looked at the box, looked at Sir Ewen, and raised his eyebrows.

Sir Ewen unlocked and opened the box, lifted the lid, and found himself looking at the top of a head. He grabbed the hair, and lifted it up. The expression on the face was almost serene, although it was still dripping blood. It was certainly Digger, also known as Sedris Meleken.

The room was silent except for Harabor’s heavy footsteps as he walked over to Sir Ewen. Without emotion, the earl prodded Digger’s cheek, lifted the hair on the head, and examined the damaged ear. Apparently satisfied, he said “Put it back in the box.” He held his hand out for the key.

“The papers my lord?” Ewen asked.

“At the other end of the table,” Harabor indicated where he had left Ewen’s copy. “I suppose you would want me to appear before the king to finalize the transfer?”

“Of course.” Sir Ewen said as he handed Harabor the key.

“I would have liked to kill him myself, you know. Of course, I already did once before ...” He locked the box.

“Would you like another drink my Lord?” Ewen asked.

“I would like to make a toast.” The earl picked up his wine glass and held it high. “To Sedris Meleken.” He paused. “Oh, here he is,” he said, motioning to the box. He then hurled the flask into the fireplace. He stared into the fire for a moment, and then slowly turned to look back at Sir Ewen. “I trust that is the last we will hear of that. I hope you will not mind if I do not stay for dinner.”

Ewen began to say something, but stopped himself. “There was another minor matter that I would discuss, but perhaps it could wait for another time.”

“I had thought you might want to have another matter to discuss, from time to time. The answer will usually be no, of course. You have altered my opinion on your value, however,” Harabor said. “It would seem you have some after all.” He picked up the box, and departed.

Later in the evening, Sir Ewen went to thank Rahel for her assistance. His sister apologized for the box. “The whole of Sedris was just too inconvenient to bring through the portal.”

Halane 30, 731

The next day, Filen was sent to inspect Sir Ewen’s new manors, to ensure that the proceeds of the harvest were kept for the benefit of Sir Ewen. Before he left town he spoke with Marhet about beginning the legal process of acquiring the manors. The lawyer charged two shillings for the work, mostly for his silence. He was not as daft as Harabor had hoped.

Eschewing the normal breakfast meeting, Sir Baris went to check on the progress of his new weapons. He spent much of the morning admiring the weaponsmith’s handiwork. He imagined all the different ways he could hurt Kryste. He was informed his purchases would be ready on Savor 4.

Late in the afternoon, Sirs Ewen and Baris called upon Sir Prehil Firith. A guard let them pass after Sir Ewen told him who he was. An elderly servant greeted them, and gestured to a sitting room on his left. “If you gentleman will have a seat,” he said and doddered off. Shortly thereafter another servant came in, offering the two knights wine or ale. Sir Ewen asked for wine, Baris for ale. After drinks were provided, a well dressed but near-matronly woman entered the hall. “Gentleman, I am Lady Shyna Firith.” She appeared to be in her early thirties; still attractive but beginning to show signs of maturity.

Sir Ewen apologized for arriving unannounced and asked to meet with her or Sir Prehil. Lady Shyna informed the knight that her husband was at a meeting of the City Aldermen. She expected him back shortly. Sir Ewen asked about her father-in-law.

“My noble father-in-law is not in town,” the lady replied. “He is in Kobe about his business. Would you gentleman like some food?”
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Sir Ewen replied.

“It is no trouble.”

Servants began coming in with plates, and before long the table was covered in food. The two knights sat down to eat. After half an hour or so, Sir Prehil returned.

“Sir Ewen, Sir Baris, it a pleasure to see you.”

“I hope we didn’t put your wife out,” Sir Ewen said.

“Oh, no. She needs the exercise, anyway,” Prehil said, smiling.

The lady gasped.

“I may have to visit the courtesans tonight,” Prehil whispered jokingly with a wink.

“How did the meeting of the aldermen go?” Ewen asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Those guildsman are the most boring lot of fussbudgets I have ever met. If my voice wasn’t there, I don’t know what would become of this kingdom.”

“I’m glad the interests of the nobility are in such good hands.”

“Oh, but you didn’t come here to hear me prattle on about guildsmen,” Prehil said. “How are you? It’s good to see you. I hope we can cross lances again, I think I may get the better of you this time.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been practicing,” Ewen answered. “But I had hoped to have a confidential word with you.”

Prehil raised his wineglass high, finished it and wiped his lips. “Go on.”

“Balim wants me to meet with Maldan Harabor – who is my new neighbor, by the way.”

“Yes, I saw him taking up residence yesterday. As they say, there goes the neighborhood.” He smiled. “So, what about the little bastard?”

“Just between you and me,” Ewen confided, “there are some Meleken heirs who have put forth a claim for the earldom of Osel.” He paused to judge Prehil’s reaction. “Balim here wants me to feel out Osel as to how he is going to handle the situation if the king sides with the heirs of Meleken. More than that, he let it be known that some of the Melekens were guests of your father.”

“Boy, didn’t you get the shitty end of the stick.” Prehil laughed. “Yes, they are here with us. The rest of the family is in Kobe. What are you going to tell Balim?”

“I don’t know,” Ewen confessed.

“I have a suggestion. I would tell Balim that Harabor is spitting fire. Plans to fight it tooth and nail – won’t hear of it.”

“I haven’t told him yet, so I don’t know his reaction.”

“Well, that will be it.”

“Spitting Fire?”

“Yeah, like one few those mythical creatures …” Prehil was searching. “You know, dragons.”

“So what do you think my lord of Balim is playing at?” Ewen asked.

“That is hard to say. I know he hates Harabor’s guts. I’m sure he’d be happy to see the back of him, or whatever part it takes to kill him.”

Ewen nodded thoughtfully.

“Not that he wants Harabor dead. Just not breathing.”

“So, I guess the other question is how much do I tell Harabor?” Ewen wondered aloud.

“That’s tricky.” Prehil thought for a moment. As little as possible, I would think.”

“Let him stew a bit.”

Prehil poured more wine.

“I get the impression that Harabor does not have the most sophisticated intelligence network,” Ewen stated.

“No, I would have to say that honor goes to the lion of the north, or the spider earl,” Prehil replied. “Although I would like to say my father has his finger on a few matters.”
“I have a high regard for your father.”

“He’s a fine man.”

“Well, that’s why I wanted to ask your advice first; I didn’t want to step on his business,” Ewen explained.

“Say, I have an idea,” Prehil said suddenly. “Let’s say we go on the town, just the three of us? Start at Galopea’s Feast, and see what goes from there?”

“You read my mind. We were just discussing that earlier, weren’t we Sir Baris?”

Sir Baris grinned. “We certainly were.”

“My wife is beautiful, but she has no zest for life,” Prehil said.

“I know where we can find some zest tonight. If we can’t find it, we will be the zest.”

“Steward!” Prehil called, and a man entered the sitting room. “Yes Sir Prehil?”

“Steward, I am going out! I will be late! Tell Lady Shyna!”

“Yes, Sir Prehil.”

“Alright, onward!” Prehil said dramatically.

“You lead, I’ll follow,” Ewen said.

Sir Prehil seemed to be a little bit more inebriated than would be expected for the small amount he had drunk. Perhaps he had begun earlier in the day, at the Alderman’s meeting, perhaps.

After a short walk, the men arrived at Galopea’s feast. Sir Baris recognized the bouncer, but not by name. The bouncer recognized them. “Sir Prehil, Sir Ewen, Sir Baris. Pass gentlemen.” The trio walked by the bouncer and into the common room. After a short search for an empty table, they sat down. A maid brought them drinks. “Good evening, gentlemen. Mak of Ashel compliments you. Enjoy your stay here.” The maid put down the ales.

“Thank Mak for us, please?” Ewen asked.

“Which one of you is Sir Baris?” the maid suddenly asked.

Sir Baris smiled. “It is I, Sir Baris.”

“I’ve been asked to tell you that ...” the maid paused. “This is very embarrassing. An evening has been arranged for you at the house of courtesans, and you alone. You have to merely present yourself.”

Sir Baris was momentarily speechless.

“The lucky dog,” Ewen said to Prehil.

“Thank you,” Sir Baris said. “To whom do I owe this pleasure?”

“I don’t know, I was just told to tell you.”

With that cryptic reply, the maid left. The three knights caroused for a time. Later, Maldan Harabor arrived, along with Otto and a guard Baris and Ewen did not recognize. The earl nodded at the group in acknowledgement, but nothing more.

“Speak of the Devil,” Ewen said.

“That’s the sodding bastard himself,” Prehil said with a slur in his voice. “Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t you go talk to him now?”

Ewen grunted.

“I mean, he’s got to be in his cups, right?” Prehil asked, well into his cups himself. “I’ll come with you if you want.”

“Are you sure you want to be involved on this end of the thing?” Ewen asked.

“We’re friends!” Prehil said happily. “You only unhorsed me! It’s not like you decapitated me!” He laughed.

“I save that for my best friends.”

“What are you waiting for?” Prehil asked.

Sir Baris shrugged. “It’s as good a time as any.”

Ewen did not agree. “Speaking with Harabor sounds like a good way to spoil a nice evening. I’ll deal with him another time.”

Unfortunately, Prehil was not to be deterred. “Where’s your backbone man! MY LORD OF OSEL!” he said loudly.

Maldan Harabor, Earl of Osel, looked up from his table at Sir Prehil, and not pleasantly.

“MY LORD, COME JOIN US!” Prehil yelled drunkenly.

Harabor, to his credit, kept his cool. “Another time Prehil.”

“NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT! IF YOU WON’T JOIN US, WE’LL JOIN YOU!” Prehil began to get up.

“We don’t want to bother with him tonight, leave him be,” Ewen said forcefully, looking intensely at Prehil.

Prehil blinked, but then continued. “COME ON MY LORD! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?” Prehil abruptly stood up, swaying a bit. He grabbed his flagon and walked quickly over to Harabor’s table, sitting down hard on a wooden chair. He put his arm around the earl.

Harabor looked dagger at the drunken knight. “Prehil, take your arm off me. I don’t care who your father is, if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re no fun!” Prehil said. He noticed his companions were not with him, and looked around, locating them at their table. “Ewen, Baris, join us!”

“Baris, let’s get him out of here,” Ewen suggested.
“It would be no use, I’m afraid,” Baris replied.

The pair walked over to Harabor and Prehil and sat down.

Prehil was yelling drunkenly again. “I HEAR THERE ARE SOME CLAIMANTS TO YOUR EARLDOM! HEY, YOU MIGHT NOT EVEN BE “MY LORD OF OSEL” FOR MUCH LONGER!”

Harabor seethed with rage, and looked like he was about to explode. Turning to Prehil he said, “Leave me alone,” as forcefully as he could.

“You’re such a fuddy duddy,”

“Let’s get going, Prehil,” Ewen suggested again.

“You’re no fun!” Prehil said to Harabor. “Ewen, Baris, let’s go somewhere else,” he suggested.

Ewen and Baris helped Prehil up. As they made their way onto the street, Sir Ewen glanced over at Harabor. Harabor was staring at Ewen from underneath his beetled brow.

“I sure told him, didn’t I,” Prehil said once the three were on the street.

Anxious to change the subject, Baris reminded the other two about the courtesans.

“The courtesans!” Prehil said excitedly. “I’m not going back to that dried up old hag.”

Sir Prehil was well known at the House of the Courtesans, and the three had no trouble getting in. “Take care of my friend Sir Ewen, here,” he said to some of the beautiful ladies, and they did. “And take care of my friend Sir Baris!” he added.
Some of the girls looked up at the name Baris. “Oh, Sir Baris Tyrestal?”

“It is I,” Sir Baris said, a huge grin on his face.

Sir Baris was led to a small room. Inside was a chair, a table, a small stool, and a door. On the wall hung what the knight imagined was supposed to be an erotic tapestry, but he didn’t understand it. The door closed. After a few minutes, a woman smaller than Cekiya entered the room. She was wearing a fine off the shoulder dress. She had long, dark hair, and small, full, almost pouty lips. “Are you sir Baris?” she asked.

“It is …” Baris stopped and cleared his throat “I am.”

“I am Maryna, I am for you.” Maryna said.

The knight looked agape.

“I have been told, that I belong to you.”
Sir Baris asked who told her that.

“Why, the mother of the house,” Maryna replied.

“I’ll have to thank her sometime,” Sir Baris said, looking up and down.

“I sing, I dance, I can recite poetry, or I can do other things.”

Sir Baris smiled. Things were looking up.

Savor 1, 731

When the sun was well up, Sirs Baris and Ewen staggered their way home. Baris in particular had a big smile on his face.

“You look different today, did you change your hair?” Cekiya asked.

“Yes,” Sir Baris said with a sated smile.