Session Seventy-Nine - December 18, 2010

[Matt]

Peonu 3, 732
Kaldor, Tashal
Raven Hall, Sir Ewen's bedchamber
Late afternoon

In the master bedroom, Sir Ewen was diligently performing his principal task with his lady wife, Thilisa. In the midst of coital responsibilities, Ewen extended his mind and tried to enter hers. Suddenly, the knight threw his head back groaning in pain, and fell back onto the floor. He had failed to prepare his mind properly and suffered an aural shock.

Thilisa shook her head. “I’ve been working him too hard.”

After some rustling of covers, the door opened and Thilisa found Cekiya sitting right next to it, a dreamy smile on her face. Behind a shapely leg, Cekiya saw Ewen lying on the floor, dead to the world, covered with only a sheet. “Go and find someone to help your master to bed.”

Cekiya nodded, and stood up. She went down to the great hall, and found Imarë and Sir Baris discussing finances. “Sir Baris, Sir Ewen needs you in the bedroom.”

Baris cocked an eyebrow. He smiled a little and swaggered up the stairs.

“Ah, there you are at last,” Thilisa said.

Baris saw Ewen on the floor. “Oh, that’s what it was,” he said a little sadly.

“He’s exhausted, perhaps you could lift him into bed so he doesn’t sleep on the floor.”

“Um, of course,” Baris stammered. He knelt and wrapped the blanket around Ewen’s nether regions as best he could. He easily lifted the knight and plopped him unceremoniously onto the bed. Chuckling, Sir Baris went down to the great hall for an ale.

“Sir Ewen will not be joining us for dinner.”

***

That evening, Sir Baris, Tora, and Imarë made their way to the Coin and Broom for a drink with Sir Andorkil, the knight's tenant and property manager. They passed a few servants hurrying home with last minute purchases and giggling young merchant boys and girls out courting. As they drew near to their destination they heard music and the noise of the crowd. Inside the place was bustling, dozens of conversations were going on at once. A faint tune drifted over the noise of the crowd. A bearded man in a corner drunkenly called for more ale. Flames roared in the fire pit as the door was closed.

Baris looked around. The crowd was certainly not genteel, but he didn't mind. Sir Andorkil was not yet present. The trio walked over to the only empty table. A red headed man headed towards the same table stopped suddenly, apparently noticing Sir Baris's sword, and bowed off. The knight sat down. “Wench! Three ales!”

Sir Baris sipped his ale and surveyed the room over the foam. He recognized the harper, it was Ornald, the musician Sir Ewen had hired to sing The Earl of Osel’s Last Lament. He was currently playing a bawdy tune. As he glanced at the door, Baris spotted a funny looking man whom he recognized from Minarsas and Whyce. He darted up and made to go for the door, but Imarë placed a hand on his forearm. “He’s gone. You know our record at finding people in the city.”

“Oh, yeah.” The knight grabbed his ale and sat back down.

The conversation turned to business. Sir Baris and Imarë discussed their mutual venture, reopening the Seven Stars as the Elf and the Dwarf. Or the Dwarf and the Elf. Sir Baris was still enamored of having a drinking contest to decide the order of the name. He was quite excited.

“Are you going to take up residence?” the elf asked.

“I had thought of it: it’s getting a might crowded at Raven Hall,” Baris replied.

“I’ve already given up my room, I might ask for a room there.”

“Actually, what are the nightly rates?” Sir Baris mused.

A short time later, Sir Andorkil arrived with another man. “Good evening.” He motioned to his companion. “This is Sir Harant Martaryne.”

“Sir Andorkil, it is good to see you again, and it is a pleasure to meet you Sir Harant,” Baris said. Imarë kicked him under the table. “And this is my friend, Imarë Taërsi, and my retainer, Tora of Sordel. Sit.” Baris raised his arm. “Wench! Two more ales!”

During the ensuing conversation, it came out that Sir Harant’s older brother held Rudwyn Manor, which was located south of Tashal, near Ternua. “Not the one near Nubeth.” Sir Harant’s family owned a house nearby. Sir Andorkil stated that he reported directly to the Chancellor of the Exchequer. Baris remembered that the Chancellor of the Exchequer was the Lord Chancellor's cousin. He must have heard Filen discussing the matter.

“I must tell you, I have just embarked upon a most exciting business venture.” Baris grinned, a frightful sight. “I bought an inn of my acquaintance, and I am going to reopen it under new management.”

“Really, which one?” Andorkil asked.

“The Seven Stars. But, henceforth, it will be called the …”

“The Elf and the Dwarf,” Imarë chimed in.

“Yes, the Elf and the Dwarf,” Baris confirmed. “Do tell your friends!”

“Well, it has been pleasant meeting you, but I think I will be going to the cockfights!” Sir Harant said.

The elf's ears twitched.

“There is a new champion, you know,” Harant continued.

“There is?” Baris asked nonchalantly.

“Yes, they call him Bonecrusher!”

“It sounds most exciting!”

“Oh yes!”

“Almost as good as dogfighting!” Imarë exclaimed. Sirs Andorkil and Harant gave her a strange look, as if they could not understand why a woman was so interested in blood sport.

“Yes, there is dogfighting, but Bonecrusher is the star tonight,” Harant explained. “Well, I’m off to the cockfight, who’s coming?”

“I will!” the elf said excitedly.

“I might as well join you,” Baris said.

Andorkil stood up. “I think I will turn in for the night, but do enjoy yourselves!”

Once outside, Harant turned right. “That is my home right there,” he said, gesturing to a building next door to the tavern.

Baris chuckled. “So you don’t have to go far for ale, huh?”

“Oh, no.”

A short time later, they found themselves outside the building that housed the cockfighting arena. Sir Harant knocked, and a peephole opened up. An eye red with drink pressed against the hole and examined the group. The man inside grunted, the door opened, and the muffled sound of cheers and squawks burst into the night. Harant shook the man's hand, and coins flickered in the torchlight. Another grunt, and the man stepped aside.

They stepped into the entryway and through a curtain on the left, revealing a small chamber lit torchlight where men stood around a small pit in which two roosters did battle. Smoke hung in the air. In one corner a small group was dicing.

“Ah, Sir Harant.” A man stepped out of the crowd. “Ah, Silwas, meet Sir Baris and Imarë,” Harant said. He pointedly did not mention Tora.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Baris said.

“Silwas owns this quality establishment.”

Baris looked around. “It looks quite bustling. Have we missed Bonecrusher?”

“No, he’s in there right now!” Silwas said, and turned his attention to the pit. “Would you care to place a wager?”

“I have to size up the cocks first,” Imarë said without missing a beat.

“Perhaps after this fight,” Baris agreed, laughing.

Bonecrusher was presently engaged with two other roosters. The combatants were rushing at each other, the razor sharp spurs attached to their legs lashing out and flashing in the firelight. Bonecrusher avoided the beak of one opponent and struck his other opponent's wings. He squawked in pain and fury and renewed its attack, biting and clawing, but Bonecrusher leapt safely out of the way. The uninjured opponent tried to circle around Bonecrusher, but he turned his head, squawked in rage, and threw out his wings. The rooster shrunk back in fear. Bonecrusher leapt upon the injured rooster, slashing with his spurs and claws, and bit his foe's neck. Crimson spurted upon the sand, and the poor rooster struggled and squawked, beatings his wings futilely. Bonecrusher was atop him, pecking again and again, until his foe struggled no more. The uninjured rooster ran about the pit, staying as far from Bonecrusher as he could, but the killer rooster stalked him relentlessly. The poor rooster slipped in the blood of his deceased partner and that was when the killer struck. With lightning speed Bonecrusher was upon his foe, and soon enough finished him off. The crowd roared in approval and the proud owner collected his meager winnings. Few were willing to bet against the mighty Bonecrusher.

“Six pence on Bonecrusher!” Baris said confidently. He watched the bout with great excitement, but afterward earned only one pence over his wager.

A few working girls were floating about the room. From the way they did not defer to Silwas, and drawing upon his extensive experience, Baris surmised that they were independent entrepreneurs, not associated with the establishment. Baris did not recognize them, although one was quite fetching, and he found himself watching her almost as much as the cocks in the ring.

During the third match, a dirty fellow stepped beside Sir Baris. “Would you like to float upon a cloud of euphoria?” he grunted.

“What type of euphoria?”

“The kind induced by the most exquisite leaf.”

Tora contemplated the curious look on Baris’s face, “Sir Baris said no,” she said. The dirty little man shrugged and faded back into the crowd.

***

Moonlight crept through the clouds to fall faintly upon the tiny form of Cekiya skulking through the streets and alleyways of Tashal. Up ahead, at the corner of Valdan and Ibuthine Way, she spied three dark clothed figures. They were apparently trying to break into the building on the corner. She glanced at the sign that hung above the door, but could not make it out in the darkness. A small creak broke the silence, followed by a soft curse. The trio were hard at work prying open a window.

The little adder smiled coldly. ‘Let’s have a little fun.’ She silently mouthed words of power, invoking Dekejis’s gift. The invocation spread over her body and muffled the sounds of her movement. She crept forward, silent as a cat. By this time, the burglars had opened the window and were inside. As she got closer, the moon briefly peeked from behind the clouds, and Cekiya recognized the sign by the door as that of a woodcrafter.

Cekiya peered inside the window, and saw the trio working on opening a strong box. The dark shapes of furniture were scattered about the room, and on the right stairs led up into deeper darkness. She slithered over the window, crept up right behind the burglars, and took her dagger in hand. “I think you need a smaller lockpick for that,” she whispered.

The big man working on the lock swore. “Shut your feckin’ hole and let me work!” None of the three turned around; apparently each assumed that one of the others had spoken.

“But you’re always so slow with this!” Cekiya whined.

“If you think you can do a better feckin’ job, then you can do it!”

Cekiya put her tiny hand out, palm up. The big man looked, squeaked, and the others fell back, drawing clubs. “Who are you!”

Up the stairs, a door creaked open. “What’s going on down there?”

The three men made for the window. Cekiya slashed the big man in the leg just as he leapt outside. The other two were close behind, but collided with each other in front of the window. Cekiya sprang through, stepping on their heads as she flew by.

The large man was waiting for her, club in hand. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re going to be sorry you fucked with us!” He swung his club awkwardly, and Cekiya nimbly dodged aside, her dagger slashing his left hand off at the wrist. He screamed and fell to the ground, grabbing his arm as blood spurted onto the cobblestones. In the darkness, it was black as oil.

“Holy shit, she cut off Moe’s arm!” one of the other men said as he clambered through the window.

Cekiya cleaned her blade off on Moe's good arm. She smiled at the trio and skipped off.

They did not follow.

“Nice work,” a familiar beggar said, holding out his bowl. Cekiya dropped a coin in and walked down the alley. There was no tapping from the beggar; no one was following her.

***

Peonu 4, 732
Kaldor, Tashal
Raven Hall, Sir Ewen's bedchamber
Three o'clock in the morning

Sir Ewen sat bolt upright in bed and screamed something incomprehensible, gripping his head in pain.

“Go back to sleep,” Thilisa murmured.

“My apologies, my lady.” Ewen laid back down, but the intense pain kept him from finding sleep.

Kaelyn too had a restless night, up with worries about a new batch of ale. She had used hops this time, right? Imarë meditated, while Baris slept his ale off soundly. Cekiya slept the sleep of the just.

***

In the morning, Sir Ewen’s headache was much diminished, but not entirely abated. In what had become a morning ritual, Thilisa awoke, turned over, pivoted, came halfway out of the bed and hiked up her nightdress. Sir Ewen once again performed his primary duty. With the exception of the first time in the tent on their wedding night, this had been the manner he performed his duty every morning and night. Thilisa never removed her clothing. Sir Ewen could not help thinking fondly on how different the act was when he performed it with his sister. Afterward the knight dressed and went downstairs for breakfast.

As he sat down to the table, Kaelyn snickered. Apparently Baris had talked. The girl no doubt thought that his primary duty had quite taxed her lord beyond exhaustion.

“You look quite haggard, my friend,” Baris remarked. Indeed, Ewen did not look in the best of health. Dark circles had grown under his eyes, and his skin had taken on an ashy tone.

“What kind of foods do you miss from your homeland?” Cekiya asked Sir Rollard suddenly.

“Ah cannot say that there is anything that Ah miss, as the food is verah much the same. Although no one heah can make a kidney pie the way mah Nana did.” He looked at his food. “Ah certainly could not. Cooking is woman’s work.”

“Where do you come from?” Cekiya asked Rollard.

“Very far from heah.”

“Does it have a name?”

“Oh, it has a name.” Rollard paused. “Ah find it better to be discreet.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“It is said that an induhscretion among friends can lead to feuds lasting genuhrations.”

“Oh, so we’re friends!” Cekiya said excitedly.

“It was only an expression,” Rollard back-pedaled.

Ewen cast a baleful eye upon Cekiya, and she held her tongue and examined the whorls in the tabletop, tracing them with her fingertip.

“You do speak funny!” Squire Uldis said a short time later. “Er, differently!” he corrected. A look of panic passed his face, and he looked down and mumbled “shut up” to himself.

“I will be going out, Sir Rollard will be accompanying me.” Thilisa said. “Will you be in today?” she asked her husband.

“I might not be,” Ewen said.

“Be a dear and be home by the midday bell.” Thilisa finished her drink, stood, cupped Ewen on the cheek and pecked him on the lips before heading upstairs to get dressed for the day.

At least she didn't pat him on the head, Baris thought.

Once he was sure his wife was upstairs and out of earshot, Ewen brought up the subject of her safety, given that she was unaware of all of the party’s enemies. Kaelyn suggested that Dickon might enjoy the opportunity to give his men something to do. Ewen ordered Cekiya to follow Thilisa and keep an eye on her.

“Is there any sort of apothecary concoction that would aid in conception?” Ewen mused.

“Not that I know of, but I can go speak to someone,” Kaelyn volunteered.

“Imarë, do you want to assist me on my trip to the jeweler?” Ewen asked. Imarë smiled brightly. “Of course”

“I think that in the late afternoon, Tora, some of the men, and I will go out of the city to train at arms.” Baris said.

“Would you be willing to take Uldis with you?” Ewen asked.

“Of course.”

After breakfast, Sir Ewen and Imarë got ready to leave. Before he left for the jeweler, Kaelyn gave her lord a silver anklet to assist with his purchase of a ring. “Consider it a wedding gift from your vassal.” With that, Ewen and Imarë went to see Herva of Veriel, the jeweler.

Although it was rainy and overcast, there was a little skip in the elf’s step. The pair looked behind their shoulders a few times, but did not think they were being followed.

“Well, Sir Ewen of Ravinargh, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” Herva of Veriel greeted them.

“This is my friend Imarë Taërsi.”

“Yes, I remember the lithe young thing. What may I do for you today Sir Ewen?” The jeweler looked at the elf. “Or is it for you?”

“I am in need of a ring for a lady,” Ewen said.

“I am sure I can help you. What sort of ring did you have in mind?”

“A ring with emeralds, I believe, would be preferred.”

“Emeralds?” the jeweler said thoughtfully. “Well, let me see what I can do.” She rummaged through her wares, and returned to the table with four rings. The first was a silver band with small emeralds scattered about it. The second was a gold ring with a simple one carat square cut emerald. The third ring was similar, except the emerald was larger, perhaps two carats. The fourth ring had an even larger emerald, and in addition two diamonds were set on either side. “I have another emerald ring, but it might be considered gaudy.”

“May my friend Imarë take a closer look?” Ewen asked.

“Of course.”

Imarë examined the fourth ring carefully. The more she gazed upon it, the more she loved and desired it. The emerald was fine and well set, as were the diamonds. She suspected it might have been dwarven work. It would not pass muster in the Shava forest, of course, but it was good enough for Tashal. She drew a blank and could not guess the value, however. She conferred with Ewen quietly.

Ewen looked up. “How much would you like?”

“Twelve thousand pence,” the jeweler said without skipping a beat.

“Putting that issue aside for a moment, would you mind looking at this and telling me what you think?” Ewen presented the jeweler with the golden pendant he had discovered in the dwarven mine. He neglected to mention that he had snatched it from the neck of a skeleton.

Herva examined the pendant with a small magnifying glass. “What an exquisite piece!” She peered more closely. “Such fine workmanship.” The jeweler looked Sir Ewen in the eye. “I would give you forty-eight hundred for it. Pence, not pounds mind you,” she said smiling.

The knight nodded. “Imarë, could you take a look at this ring?” He handed the elf the two carat piece. The elf looked closely at the ring, examining it from every angle. She moved closer to the window to see it in the light. She liked this one as well. It was quite beautiful, but not Khuzan work. Unfortunately, again she could not guess how much it was worth. She whispered into Ewen's ear.

The jeweler spoke up. “That one will be thirty-six hundred pence.”

Ewen considered. He thought and thought, but simply had no clue what ring would be appropriate for his new bride. He would have to make a decision, though. He showed the jeweler the anklet Kaelyn had given him and a certain statuette he hoped to trade. “What do you think of these?” The jeweler took out her magnifying glass and examined them carefully.

“I could offer you those two items in clean exchange for this ring,” he said, holding up the two carat piece.

“That sounds fair.”

Sir Ewen and Imarë left with the ring, returning home before the midday bell.

***

Meanwhile, Kaelyn made her way to the apothecary run by one Derance, located outside the Heru Gate. Like the others, she checked to see if she was being followed, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Inside were several tables on which herbs, poultices and other medicinal products were arranged. Several shelves lined the walls, and these too held rows of medicines, mostly bottles and vials. A girl of about seventeen with curly dark hair was minding the shop. “Good day to you.”

“Good day to you,” Kaelyn replied. “I believe I need assistance of a delicate nature. My lord and lady are trying for a child, and I have been sent to find anything to help.”

The girl brightened. “I have just the thing.” She went to one of the shelves and pulled down a glass ball with a spout in a stopper, set in a little wooden cradle. “It’s called heir in a bottle.”

“What’s in it?”

“A concoction of roots and herbs and other secret ingredients.”

“Is this for him or her?”

“For her.”

“What is the dosage?”

“The whole bottle. Once, upended. Does your lord have a problem with twins?”

“No, he does not.”

“Sometimes it does increase the difficulty of the birth. But that is just between you and me. Especially when there are quintuplets.”

Kaelyn smiled ruefully. “I’ll be sure to warn the midwife.” She took out her money pouch. “How much?”

“Thirty six pence. A bargain, I’m sure you’ll admit, for an heir.”

Kaelyn nodded in agreement. “Do you have anything for him?”

“Well, not exactly along the same line, you understand.” The girl went to a shelf in the corner, pushed a chest to the side, revealing a smaller chest hidden behind. She took a small key from somewhere under the counter, unlocked the chest, and pulled out an unusual glass bottle. The bottle was long and thin with two rounded protuberances on the bottom, and the stopper was shaped like a mushroom. The girl brought over the bottle, her face a little pink. “It is called Halea’s Brandy. He won’t be able to help himself. This, the dosage is a little bit less. Half the bottle will get him there, the other half will get him back.”

“She hasn’t complained that he cannot get there,” Kaelyn mused. “It is more the virility.”

The girl smiled, holding the bottle with her hands on the top and bottom. “This will help,” she giggled.

“I think I’ll take the heir in the bottle.” Kaelyn paid the girl and went to leave the store. “By the way, I love your glass maker,” she said as she was at the door.

“Confidentially, we’re not supposed to have this, it’s supposed to only be for the Temple of Halea. But my master’s niece--he always says his niece, but that can’t be right--is a priestess of the temple, so she gets us a supply.”

“My lips are sealed.”

***

After Baris, Kaelyn, Ewen and Imarë had left for their tasks, Cekiya was still waiting for Thilisa to leave.

The woman finally deigned to grace the great hall with her presence. She looked over at Cekiya as if she was thinking, “What use could she possibly be?”

Thilisa left, and Cekiya followed discreetly behind. It was raining, and Cekiya stuck out her tongue to taste it. It was nice and cold. She looked this way and that, and saw Lady Thilisa and Sir Rollard up ahead, just passing the Guild of Arcane Lore. As Cekiya watched, her target turned right into a small alleyway. The adder ran to catch up. She peeked around the corner, over the alleyway, but Thilisa was not in sight. She ran into the doorway on the next corner and peeped around. She breathed a side of relief; Thilisa was standing before the front door of the house.

The door opened. Cekiya could not quite overhear what was said by the person inside, but Thilisa said “I’ve come to see Lady Irla.”

The man inside spoke again. “Oh, my apologies, I shall come enter from the side door,” Thilisa said.

Cekiya’s eyes grew wide as Thilisa turned to come back into the alleyway. She tried to scramble up the wall, but could not get purchase on the wet stone. She turned around just as Thilisa and Rollard came around the corner.

“Hold a minute mah lady,” Rollard drawled. “You there, get gone!” The last was punctuated with a kick in the back. Cekiya lowered her head and scurried off. “Beggars,” he spat.

Cekiya rounded the corner, but stopped once she was out of sight. After a few moments she heard the side door open and close, and she peered around the corner. A little girl ran by the alleyway, followed by a little boy, but no one else was visible. She crept up to the house Thilisa had gone into and leaned close to one of the windows but could not hear the muffled words clearly enough. She eyed the wall, and took her time climbing up, clinging to the edge of one of the windows.

“May I get you something to drink, Lady Thilisa?” Cekiya heard clearly. Her arms were tiring, and she pulled herself up to the third floor window. She gently pulled at the shutters, but they did not budge – they were shut by a sliding bar. Cekiya tried to climb back down, but could not find the proper handhold. She shifted to the right and shimmied down to the window she was listening at before. The occupants were speaking in lower tones, and Cekiya could not make out what they were saying.

Cekiya spent two hours in the rain, waiting for Thilisa to leave. Finally, Lady Thilisa and Sir Rollard left the building. “Ah do believe there is time, mah lady” Rollard said, responding to something Cekiya had not heard.

Thilisa and Rollard came out of the alleyway and turned right, headed towards Haldan Square. Cekiya followed them to the clothier Haber of Sarlis. On the way she passed a cart, stealing an apple without slowing down.

After half an hour, Thilisa and Rollard exited the clothier with one package. They turned down Valdan way, and made their way back to Raven Hall. Cekiya followed.

Back at Raven Hall, Thilisa was informed that Sir Ewen was in his study.

“Ewen,” she said as she stepped quietly into the study.

“Yes, my lady.” As he said that, he could hear the peal of the noontime bell. Without a word, the lady Thilisa went into the bedroom and presented herself on the side of the bed.

It was a long, long time. By the time Ewen had discharged his duty, he was thinking a little ointment might not be out of place. Afterwards he teasingly inquired whether today was especially propitious for a “nooner.” She suggested that there were certain woman’s issues that were best left unspoken.

Ewen remembered the concoction Kaelyn had presented him with earlier, the “Heir in a Bottle.” He told his wife about it, and left it up to her whether and when to use it.

Kaelyn noticed that Thilisa came downstairs, but Ewen did not. Remembering how exhausted his duties were making her lord, later in the afternoon, Kaelyn returned to the apothecary and purchased the other item, the one in the peculiarly shaped bottle.

After an hour’s rest, Ewen made his way to Hag Hall. He kept looking over his shoulder, but was so distracted by the results of his noon activities that he did not notice anything.

“Fine afternoon we’re havin, ain’t we guvna,” a beggar asked, holding out his bowl, the few coins jangling. Ewen put a penny in it. “The blessing of the deity be upon ye, guvna, whatever one ye prefer.”

Ewen smiled a not so nice smile and continued on. He heard the telltale tapping, and just had time to knock on the door of Hag Hall. “Good afternoon, Sir Ewen,” a door guard said.

“Is my lady in the chamber above?”

The guard nodded. “If you would wait in the small room, I will have you announced.”

After a short time Eleere came into the small hall. “Oh, Sir Ewen.” She made a show of looking around. “I don’t see the small one.”

“I have her otherwise employed. I hope you are well.”

“I am, thank you.” Her eyes flicked up and down. “You look a little gaunt!” she said, slightly worried. “I have a chicken stewing, I could draw you off a broth. It is a great restorative!”

“Perhaps before I leave.”

Sir Harth came into the small hall. Eleere curtsied and slipped out.

“Sir Ewen, you may not believe this, but it gratifies me to see you.”

Ewen nodded. “Sir Harth.”

“I believe my lady has taken a slight indisposition.”

“Slight?”

“I prefer none.” Harth shook his head. “But she has asked to see you.”

“I would rather not tax my lady,” Ewen said. “I know the way.”

“I shall stand by,” Harth said with a frown.

As Ewen passed the spiral staircase leading to the great hall, he noticed that one of the doors on the far side of the hall was closed. If his memory served, those chambers were reserved for the Morganettes. The knight passed through the unlocked door to Rahel's study, found it empty and passed through to the bedchamber. Rahel was seated on a plush chair before a roaring fire. She was leaning back, eyes slightly closed and there was a slight sheen of sweat upon her forehead.

“Ewen, my brother,” she said, her eyes still closed. “Step into my web.” She chuckled.

Ewen approached Rahel and took her by the hand.

“Ah, Sir Harth has told you of his fears,” Rahel said. “It is nothing. The baby is restless, that is all. I feel … alive!” Ewen's sister sat up with some concern and looked at him. “But you do not. You look terrible.”

Ewen smiled wryly. “You neglected in your tutelage to provide me with some good cures for aural shock hangovers.”

“Oh, you poor darling. I am running a small temperature, and you would think the sky is falling. Please, sit.”

“You should not take your condition lightly.”

“Oh, but I am fine. I am as much a physician as Harth, if not more. If there were truly a danger, I would send for a healer and not trust to these snake oil dealers.”

“Eleere has a chicken broth,” Ewen said helpfully.

Rahel laughed. “Yes, she’s been trying to get me to drink that for days.” She brought her hands up and cupped Ewen’s chin. “You are completely haggard- that woman is going to drain every ounce of your strength.” Rahel seemed to concentrate and, starting from his hands, a warm glow suffused Ewen’s body. It returned vigor to his humors, and made him feel better than he had in months.

Her work done, Rahel sat, reached out her hand, and a goblet floated towards her.

“Thank you, Rahel.”

“We can not only banish fatigue, but can take it upon ourselves from another,” she explained.

“You will worry Sir Harth to death.”

“Sir Harth needs something to worry about. Indeed, he has had so little to report in his journals since the arrival in Tashal that he is expending ink for no purpose whatsoever. I think he lets the ink from one page dry before turning it! Before you could hardly read the next page, as the ink from the previous had melted through!” Rahel chuckled. “Not that I have done so, of course.”

Ewen asked Rahel about the closed door below, and she explained that Elena of Lerik was staying in those chambers.

“Do you know of a Lady Irla?” Ewen asked.

“Lady Irla,” Rahel said thoughtfully. “Yes, I think, yes.” She gathered her thoughts. “She is a Labarn. I believe she is the mother of the present holder of the Labarn manors. They are one of the more important knightly families in Kaldor, holding five, maybe six manors. Something like that. I understand that she is friends with Lady Cheselyne, and only recently returned to the city, but she had lived here many years. She spent some portion of the last year with her son, it may be that a grandson was born? I did hear something about it, though.”

“My lady wife called upon Lady Irla this morning,” Ewen explained.

“Oh, that wouldn’t surprise me. Well, she is the mother of the present holder of those manors, but holds some influence. I would think your lady wife wants as many allies as she can get.” She looked pointedly at her brother. “But she has allies she cannot imagine.”

“She also has enemies she cannot imagine, enemies made by myself.”
Rahel glanced down and smiled. “You really must learn to play nicely with others, brother. No, but you are right. There is no way she could know the full extent, nor should she.” She smiled and looked him in the eyes. There was still the slightest sheen of sweat on her forehead. “You wish to protect her in ways that she does not want.”

“Much rides upon her safety.”

“If you didn’t protect her, I would have to be cross with you. Everything rides upon her safety. Do you think she is with child yet? Certainly she has to be soon!” Rahel said with maternal concern. “This is killing you!”

“I will endeavor to draw upon my inner reserves,” Ewen said manfully.

“Well, what I have just helped you with shall get you part of the way there.” She put both hands on her belly and reclined on the bed. “The sooner she is with child the better. You do know that there are aids to this?”

“Heir in a bottle, perhaps?”

“Well, I’ve never heard of that, but if you're talking about some sort of potion, I suppose yes,” she said, laughing. “I had once heard – you understand, the Aerth’s are an extensive clan – I had once heard ... how to put this delicately. If, after, you know, once the deposit is made, if she were to upend herself …”

Ewen commented upon the difficulty of getting a lady of Thilisa’s rank to upend herself, but he assured Rahel he would try to apprise her of the benefits.

Rahel nodded. “Of course.”

“As for her safety,” Ewen said expectantly.

“That is still a matter of discussion, isn’t it. What are you thinking?”

“It had occurred to me to speak to Dickon, who I am sure yearns for new ways to employ his troops.”

“You do understand that Dickon is a dull boy. A good soldier, but not very creative. At the end of the day, not very intelligent, it is one of the things that makes him so valuable. He has never questioned anything in his life, as far as I can tell.”

“The need is to provide security for Thilisa without her becoming encumbered by the knowledge of it.”

“Dickon could attempt the task, but much depends upon the cleverness of the lady, and I have heard good things about her in that regard.”

“Well, there are two ends to this. One is to provide security to the lady, and the other is to have intelligence about the activities of those who would have my interests harmed. Particularity the Earl of Neph.”

“Yes, I have been thinking on him these past weeks. I am not sure if he is better in place or better taken out. But you are right, he is no friend of yours, and thus he is no friend to our objectives. Sooner or later, he needs to go down – it is just a question of when. Perhaps the little adder I placed at your side … she may, of course, perish in the attempt.

“Every good tool has it’s maximum, longevity, shall we say,” Ewen said coolly.

“Yes, that is true,” Rahel agreed.

“As useful as our little adder is, she is not to be expended lightly.”

“Probably. I wouldn’t expend her lightly. But when time calls for Neph, desperate measures may be called for. But his time has not yet come. Balim is still in town, Osel is in town. There is a new player who has arrived. I do not know why or what, frankly, from what I can gleam, he seems to be a bit of a fool. I speak of the Baron of Yeged.”

“Who is he?” Ewen asked.

“He is a vassal of Neph. He very rarely comes to Tashal. He does not keep a townhouse here. He is in fact renting lodgings, if you can imagine. But, you no doubt wish to speak to Dickon. I know that you and Sir Harth are not the best of friends.”

“Yes, although things have thawed a bit since the early days.”

“Well, you do have a certain charm. Perhaps he could be of some help when you speak to Dickon. As I say, Dickon is a good soldier, but a dull boy. Sir Harth, for all his own faults, has a subtle mind.”

Ewen thanked Rahel for the suggestion and promised to call upon her in a day or two, when he hoped to find her recovered. As his sister was starting to nod off, Sir Ewen took his leave. He left the bedchamber a new man. He had not felt so good in weeks. In fact, he felt quite virile.

He found Sir Harth in the small hall, sipping some broth. “She is resting now,” Ewen told him.

“I have never seen her like this. She is positively euphoric. You can never tell her anything anytime anyway,” Harth said.

“I share your concern. I told her I would call upon her in the next day or two.”

“Of course, rest is what she needs. Was that all?”

“I intend to call upon Dickon Parketh. The lady Rahel felt that your counsel would aid me.”

“Indeed.” Harth looked expectantly at Ewen. “It would help me to know the topic.”

“Protection that needs to be accorded to my new lady wife.”

“Oh, yes, I do agree. Let us go and see Dickon. He pushed the bowl away, seeming relieved to do so.

Just as they went out the door, Eleere’s head popped up from out of the kitchen. “I am feeling much better now!” Ewen said quickly.

The pair went into the antechamber. “Dickon House,” Sir Harth said to the guard. The guard opened the door, looked left and right and crossed the street. He knocked three times upon the door, paused, knocked twice, paused, and knocked a final time. The door opened and Sirs Harth and Ewen crossed the alleyway.

“We would see Dickon,” Harth said to the new guard.

“He is upstairs, Sir Harth.”

“Very good.”

Ewen and Harth went upstairs to the barracks. “Tell Dickon of Parketh that I would like to see him,” he said to one of the men. That man knocked on Dickon’s door. A moment later, Dickon came out. In the meantime, Ewen and Harth had appropriated an end table.

“Dickon, Sir Ewen would like to speak to you,” Harth explained.

Dickon looked at Ewen. “I am at Sir Ewen’s disposal.” He joined the knights at the table. “Can I offer you something to drink Sir Ewen?”

Ewen shook his head. “Not at this time.”

Ewen noticed a couple of guardsmen attempting to sidle nearer. “A moment, Sir,” Dickon said. He stood up and looked straight at the offending guardsmen. They suddenly remembered pressing duties elsewhere and hurried off to complete them.

“It may not yet have reached your ears, Dickon, but I have returned with my retinue from Minarsas with a new lady wife.”

“I had heard you had returned, Sir Ewen. Congratulations on your wedding.”

“Thank you. The Lady Thilisa Ravinargh is presently staying, of course, at Raven Hall.”

Dickon's eyes widened. “If I may be so bold, Sir Ewen, when you say Lady Thilisa, do you mean to the Dowager Countess of Osel?”

“I do indeed.”

Dickon chuckled, astonishment, wonder and admiration plain on his face.

“The lady, of course, stays at Raven Hall, but goes about her business in the city,” Dickon sat up, quite alert, at that statement, “as she is wont to do.”

“She is strong willed, that is certain,” Dickon agreed.

“I am concerned about her security, more concerned that the lady herself is used to being,” Ewen said. Harth stood and began to pace. “The lady has not been troubled with knowledge of some of the complexities of some of my own affairs,” Ewen continued, and Harth snorted. “Having said that, the lady’s confidence in her safety in traveling about is perhaps a bit misplaced.” Ewen smiled ruefully.

“May I ask what kind of retinue the lady has?” Dickon asked.

“Sir Rollard, and there may be two other men,” Ewen replied.

“Well, that would be enough, three, if they are faithfully by her side wherever she goes.”

“She left only in the company of Sir Rollard this morning. Sir Rollard, I should add, was injured in Minarsas and has not yet fully recovered the use of his sword arm.”

“How was he injured?” Dickon asked.

“Defending the lady in the midst of a kidnapping,” Ewen said lightly.

“Defending the lady in the midst of a kidnapping?” Harth blustered. “Was she in fact kidnapped?”

“Yes, and subsequently rescued by myself,” Ewen said.

Harth gave Dickon a significant look. Dickon nodded. “Sir Rollard does not appear to be up to the job of protecting the lady,” Harth said.

“Indeed,” Ewen agreed. “And yet, as you say, the lady is strong willed. What we put in place must be discreet.”

“She is living at Raven Hall?” Dickon asked.

“Yes, but she has another domicile,” Ewen explained.

“Do you know where this other domicile is?”

“One of my agents is working on that now. I hope to have that information soon. I do not believe peregrinations today were typical.”

“The lady is not looking for an escort.”

“The lady is convinced that whatever danger exists is upon my shoulders.”

Harth shrugged. “The lady may very well be correct, but you cannot take that chance.”

“We are in agreement,” Ewen said.

Harth looked at Dickon significantly again.

Dickon finally seemed to get it. “Perhaps, Sir Ewen, my men could be of use?”

Ewen allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction.

“It would be very helpful to learn of her domicile, but even so, in the meantime, I can detail at least two men at a time to follow her, to protect her. She’ll probably notice them, of course.”

“Of course,” Ewen said. “For the time being, do you recall the small little girl who sometimes does jobs for me?”

Dickon looked perplexed. “Yes,” Harth interjected. “Eleere tries to feed her cakes.” He smiled. “She throws them into the cellar when she thinks Eleere isn’t looking.”

“She is at present following my lady wife with the intention of discovering her domicile. It may be confusing the issue to add any men now. Once her domicile is located, though, she will no longer be used for that purpose.”

“We can wait for your orders,” Dickon said.

“True, but we must protect the lady.” Harth turned to Ewen. “Do you believe there are any existential threats at this time?”

“I am not aware of any specific threats at this time.” Ewen paused. “Once word of our marriage becomes public, tomorrow at Lady Cheselyne’s party, however...”

“So we only have one day,” Harth said.

“Yes,” Ewen confirmed.

Harth resumed his pacing. “But there is no present threat- which means that we must protect the lady at the lady herself. You say that you will be announcing this at the Lady Cheselyne’s party tomorrow?

“Yes.”

“It is well.” Harth paused and looked pensive. “Does the Lady Cheselyne know?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“The Queen is aware.”

“Ah.” Harth said. “We can count on the Lady Cheselyne’s discretion for at least twenty-four hours, she no doubt wants to be first to break the news. The Queen, on the other hand, is a flighty unreliable creature. If she knows, certainly her ladies in waiting know, and if they do the entire court could know.”

“I should add that the kidnapper of Lady Thilisa is holed up in the house next to Raven Hall,” Sir Ewen added casually.

Sir Harth cast a withering eye upon Sir Ewen. “Is that wise? Forgive me Sir Ewen, did you say that the kidnapper lives next door? Would that be a Bastune?”

“Yes, the kidnapper is holed up with his mother,” Ewen said smartly.

“So, Sir Lyndar Bastune.” Harth gazed into the fire for a short time. “Is there any reason to let him live?” he said coldly.

“No.”

“Then I suppose we shall have to kill him. I suppose we should do it in a way that does not reflect ill upon you. A runaway cart in the streets, a freak accident that can only be explained by the will of the gods ...” Harth's voice trailed off in thought.

“I understand the King dislikes a ruckus.”

“Oh, he does, he likes his city tidy.” Harth smiled. “Well, that’s kings for you. So I take it, Sir Ewen, if I decide that I can find a way to do away with Sir Lyndar you would not object?”

“No, not at all.”

“I’ve been longing to kill someone since arriving in Tashal,” Harth said, looking meaningfully at Sir Ewen.

“If that matter has been dispensed with, we should move on to the next topic,” Ewen said quickly. “If potential dangers are out there, well, in my opinion operatives of the earl of Neph mean me no good will. In fact, at one point, he took one of my companions hostage in a misguided attempt to get me to trade him for something.”

“To whom are we referring?” Harth asked.

“Sir Baris Tyrestal.”

“Surely you don’t want me to kill him?”

“No, Sir Baris was discommoded by the agents of earl of Neph at one point in the hopes that my undying affection for the man would sway me.”

“Well, that does seem more a matter for you to take care of.”

“My point is that a repeated attempt might be directed at my lady wife. You should be aware it is a vulnerability that can be exploited.”

“No, we will follow the lady in such a way that she will notice us, but think nothing of it,” Harth said. “We cannot possibly expect to hide from her, and so we shall hide in plain sight, as it were.”

“I will assign two men to patrol the vicinity of Raven Hall at all times,” Dickon said. “These men will follow the lady Thilisa as unobtrusively as possible when she travels about the city.”

“I think that will do,” Ewen said. “The girl, Cekiya, will give whatever information she can to you.” He stood up. “If there isn’t anything else, I think I will review the troops.”