Session Eighty-Eight - January 14, 2012

[Matt]

Late Peonu-Early Kelen

At the end of Peonu, with the mystery of the Ogre solved, the pace at Raven Hall slowed a bit. The urchins came by, but there was far less for them to do. They were nevertheless inordinately proud of themselves in their role in bringing down the Ogre. It took some time for Kaelyn to convince them that she did not have another murder, burglary, or even missing pet case for them to deal with. She was visited by the Aramia and the Pelnala, who thanked her, and told her the case was closed by Sir Gorvan. They each offered her a boon.

Indeed, with the case solved, for Kaelyn there was only the daily arrival of the urchins to fill her time. Thus she was left with brewing or arcane pursuits to fill the remainder. Sir Ewen tactfully suggested the latter, pleading lack of space to spread out the malt. She decided to use her time to really stretch her mind, and spend many hours in study over a very complex spell. Unfortunately, although she tried many times, the spell still remained beyond her abilities. She must have been missing something. Because of the intensity of her studies, the party hardly saw her outside of breakfast until the nineteenth of Kelen.

Early in Kelen, Sir Andorkil came by and paid Baris 242d in rent. Baris also received 60d in profit from the Elf & Dwarf. Not long afterward Baris and Prehil spent a memorable evening in the House of Courtesans, on Baris.

Cekiya recovered her sight a few days after the Ogre’s death, but spent most of her time before, and a disconcerting amount of time afterward, stealthily feeling her way about the house, tracking the servants. She acquired a blindfold somewhere, and now put it on frequently. When Ewen inquired why she was doing this, she replied, “It’s easier to count all of the heartbeats.”

Sir Rollard remained in a pique and began to go out more frequently. The servants tried their best to avoid him.

Lady Thilisa began to rally a bit toward mid-month, and even stirred from her room for a meal from time to time, although she continued to blame Ewen for her condition, she no longer did so with murderous fury. Mornings, however, continued to be low points.

Tora split her time between attending Sir Baris and practicing with Imarë’s bow. She soon came to appreciate its fine qualities. She also spent a few evenings at the Elf & Dwarf and kept her ears open, but did not learn much of note. She did run across Sergeant Yerick and learned that a delegation from Abriel Abbey had arrived at the Temple seeking the abode of Sirs Ewen and Baris. They had wished to entreat the worthy knights to return to Abriel with them and assist with a dispute with a knight from the nearby manor. However the archbishop, in town, denied their request and ordered them to return to Abriel Abbey. Ewen received Tora’s news with curiosity, and considered its meaning.

Sir Ewen, while still finding time, mostly evenings, late evenings, to spend at Hag Hall, continued to display himself publicly. Indeed, when appropriate, he made sure to wear his new surcoat, newly marshaled arms and all. Ewen kept waiting for Sir Gorvan to search the house, but he never did. Indeed, it seemed nothing at all was being done about the disappearance of 9/11th’s of the Sheriff’s Guard. Around Kelen 10, replacements for the lost men arrived, and other than a noticeable lack of humor, they seemed similar enough to the men they replaced.

There was word that Lady Peresta had canceled her seasonal party, and declined all other invitations. There was a party at Curo House, hosted by Sir Kytem, to which Sirs Ewen and Baris were not invited.

On successive days shortly after the Ogre mystery was solved, Sir Ewen attempted to set up magical defenses around his wife’s treasure trove. The first couple of days he was unsuccessful in creating the appropriate wards, but on the third day he got the complicated passes exactly correct. Looking upon his handiwork, he thought he had done as good a job as he was capable. Additionally, from time to time he used his Deryni abilities to look in upon Baron of Tonot, but learned nothing of note.

As the fifteenth approached, Tora noted not one, but two large progresses had approached the city. She was outside the city walls practicing with Imarë’s bow when she saw the first procession. It came from the North, and she saw, with awe, the standard of sable, an acorn slipped and leaved or. She knelt and bowed her head as King Haldan III rode past on a powerful bay charger. She stole a glance at her King, and couldn’t help thinking there was something sly about his face. Her surprise was even greater the next day when a progress of the Earl of Vemion entered through the Ternua Gate. Tora ran for Raven Hall as fast as she could.

Rahel, meanwhile, was in her seventh month of pregnancy, radiant, and looking forward to her delivery in early Larane. She sent for a healer to attend her in the final weeks.

Kelen 14, 732

Kaldor, Tashal
Raven Hall

On the fourteenth of Kelen an invitation arrived for Sir Ewen and Thilisa to attend a party after Soratir at Balim House, on the morrow. When Ewen brought this invitation to the attention of his lady wife, she laughed at the very notion of going out, but told Ewen he was welcome to go. “Bring Baris, or Rollard,” she said.

“Your father is in town, and will probably be there,” Ewen said.

“Another reason to stay in,” Thilisa replied. “And another thing – don’t tell him I’m pregnant,” she said before hurrying out of the room, a sickly look on her face.

Ewen went downstairs to the great hall, where he found Sir Baris at table, enjoying a breakfast from Ewen’s larder and cooked by Ewen’s own servants. He sighed, well at least now he wouldn’t have to send someone to the tavern to fetch the knight. “Sir Baris, just the man I was looking for. It is convenient that you are here already. Would you like to join me for a party at Balim House tomorrow after Soratir? It would mean going to the Laranian Church, however.”

Baris, munching on a large amount of bacon and eggs he had just stuffed into his mouth, blinked a bit, shrugged, and then nodded his head.

“I trust you will be circumspect in your comments?” Sir Ewen asked his fellow.

“But of course, aren’t I always?” Baris replied innocently, having managed to swallow most of his food. Ewen cast the grinning knight a withering glare.

Ewen let Filen know about the party, and the herald began rushing about, summoning Baris back to Raven Hall for the nonce. He spent the rest of the day overseeing the servants and preparing just the right clothing, rejecting and approving several outfits before finally deciding.

In the evening Sirs Ewen and Baris, and Tora, made their way to Galopea’s feast for dinner. They did not recognize anyone of note, except for Habor of Sarlis, Ewen’s tailor, and Sir Danyes Bernan. Ewen and Baris pointedly walked past him. Danyes smiled and nodded: this was par for the lists for him.

Over dinner, the two knights discussed politics. Ewen wondered how the various powers would react to his rise. “Perhaps we could inquire along these lines at tomorrow’s party.” At one point Ewen brought up Sir Kytem, “a seneschal of the chamber.”

“So, he works for Harapa?” Baris asked.

“Yes,” Ewen replied, blinking. He was always surprised when reminded that Baris was aware of these subtleties. “You know, my good man, you should really get married,” he said, changing the subject.

Baris choked, spitting out some ale. Fortunately he turned his head and avoided getting any spittle on his noble companions. “Well, I’m young, yet, aren’t I?” he squeaked, wiping his mouth. “But I suppose it’s something to keep in mind.”

Ewen idly wondered which wife of Baris would be most advantageous to his plans. There was Lady Cheselyne Hosath the younger, for one. Although perhaps that was aiming a bit high, Baris was a landless knight, after all. The Elf & Dwarf most certainly did not count, he thought, mentally parrying Baris’s expected riposte.

At that point Sir Rohn and Filen arrived, interrupting Ewen’s musings. “It’s less than twenty-four hours until the party, gentlemen,” Filen said. “What if one of you were to slip and sprain your ankle, why you wouldn’t be able to dance!”

“I’ve been doing my best to keep an eye on Baris,” Ewen replied with a smile.

“Sir Ewen, Sir Baris!” Rohn said as he sat down.

“Sir Rohn, a pleasure to see you,” Ewen replied.

Baris nodded his greeting. He was glad Rohn and Filen had arrived when they had, the conversation had turned in a decidedly frightful direction.

“Have any family members sprung out of your family tree recently that I should know about?” Rohn asked Ewen.

“No, but if any long lost cousins show themselves, I will send them around immediately,” Ewen answered, thinking of the additions to his family tree his pregnant wife and sister would both soon make. What would Rohn make of that?

Rohn smiled slightly. “So, we’re still going with the Earl of Tormau?”

“Yes, that is my understanding,” Ewen said with a grin. “Although, you must understand, it was always ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ when I was growing up.”

“You aren’t expecting to inherit any earldoms in Tharda?”

“No, not at the moment.” Ewen chuckled. “You know, I always imagine you, as a little boy, referring to your mother as ‘Lady Sarlis.’ Now that I think of it, I wondered about your relation to Haber of Sarlis?”

“Oh, he’s my second cousin,” Rohn said quietly. “On the subject of relations, your putative father-in-law is in town.”

“I had heard,” Ewen said evenly. “I wondered what had brought him to Tashal.”

“Paid me a visit, he did,” Rohn said, taking his drink. “He wanted to make sure I hadn’t done anything rash, like inserting you into the Caldeth family records, or something like that.” He took a sip of his ale before continuing. “I informed his lordship that I had no choice but to do so.” He shook his head. “He became quite incensed, and I had to remind him that the college of heralds was extraterritorial.” Rohn took another, deeper, sip of his drink. “I neglected to mention – it did not seem the time – about your new arms. Another time. Perhaps by letter.”

“Do you think the Earl of Vemion will be going to this soiree tomorrow?” Ewen asked.

“He is,” Rohn confirmed. “Are you invited?”

“I am.”

“I will have to bring my armor.”

Ewen laughed. “That’s why Sir Baris is coming,” he said, slapping that worthy on the back. “By the way, is Sir Karson Ubael the younger, my brother-in-law, in town?”

“I have not seen him.”

“Did I perchance overhear you talking about suitable brides of Sir Baris when I came in?” Filen asked when the conversation lulled. “Why wasn’t I told of this?”

“I was just told of it myself,” Baris quipped.

“I think it is becoming more and more a matter of the moment to do something about Baris’s eligibility,” Ewen said seriously. “We were recalling that the Earl of Neph has a rather large brood.”

Sir Rohn chuckled. “To my knowledge there is only one unmarried daughter, the youngest, but I think that would be a touch high in terms of aim.”

Ewen smiled evenly. “I’ve never let that sort of reasoning stop me.”

“No, I don’t imagine you would, but then matters of parentage don’t seem to concern you,” Rohn said.

To Baris’s dismay and horror, Filen and Sir Rohn began conferring quietly. He kept hearing phrases like “already married,” or “perhaps she would do,” or “homely, but high station.” He downed his drink and ordered another.

“What about Eadril’s sister?” Filen said at last. “She is even named fair, Fairena,”

“She’s not from the main line and doesn’t have royal blood in her, she just might do,” Rohn agreed.

“Why, I have next weekend free, why don’t we do it then,” Baris sputtered, a panicked look on his face. Things were getting out of hand.

“I remember Sir Eadril from Minarsas, capital fellow,” Ewen said, an amused smile on his face.

“It would really be a stroke of luck if she were at the party tomorrow,” Filen said hopefully.

“That would be too much to hope for,” Rohn said.

“If Sir Eadril is at the party, perhaps he would be up for some hunting?” Ewen asked Baris. “You might be able to arrange an invitation to Balimshire.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” Baris said quietly.

“Of course, there are other ladies of good family,” Rohn said.

“No doubt.” Where was the wench with those other drinks, Baris wondered? Things were getting darker and darker, and it was certainly not from drink.

“If only there were an eligible Firith girl,” Rohn wondered, turning to Ewen. “I understand you are tight with Sir Prehil.”

“I wonder, does the Baron of Nenda have any eligible relations?” Ewen asked.

Filen and Rohn conferred again. “I’d forgotten about her.” Rohn said at last.

“A little young, don’t you think?” Filen asked.

“Not for Sir Baris.”

“Who are we talking about?” Baris asked.

“The Baron of Nenda’s cousin has a daughter, Halya,” Rohn said. “She’s fourteen.”

“Baris is a grass is on the field, play ball, kind of guy,” Ewen interrupted.

“She might even be fifteen by now,” Rohn continued without missing a beat. “That’s on the edge of marriagibility, but it is within the bounds. Provided her parents agree, of course.”

“And myself,” Baris said.

Kelen 15, 732

Tashal, Kaldor
Raven Hall

At breakfast, Ewen seriously wondered whether he should use his mental powers to murder the Earl that evening. He could make it look like the Earl had suffered an apoplexy during an emotional outburst upon seeing Sir Ewen. Eventually he decided against it as premature, and risky as other Deryni might be present.

Tora hinted that Baris take a bath before the party.

“Already done,” Baris said, and sniffed his armpit. He offered Tora a sniff, to prove it.

There was actually a hierarchy to bathing in the household. Ewen and Baris were first, of course, and were attended by their valets. Although Baris did not normally have a valet, a cute serving girl stood in for the occasion.

Tora bathed later, but with no one to help her. “Where are you from?” Tora asked Bernethe, the chief cook who had helpfully brought her a pail of hot water to keep the bath warm.

“Irtivir Abbey, in Balimshire”

“My lord and your lord are going to a party with the Earl of Balim,” Tora said. The cook nodded, “Must be nice.” As she scrubbed, Tora had a nice chat with Bernethe about life in the countryside. It was nice to speak to a normal person.

At the appointed hour, Sir Ewen and Tora attended Soratir Mass at the Laranian Temple, dragging Sir Baris along. One must attend mass if one hopes to attend an after-Soratir party, they implored him.

Once inside they took their places, Tora standing quite apart from Sirs Ewen and Baris. The front pews were stacked to the rafters with the great and powerful of the city, including, Ewen noted, Vemion. He was seated next to Balim. Prehil and his father were also present, as were the various Cheselynes. Stimos was also there, unaccompanied.

The Rekela Dariune, the Serekela, Edine Kynn, and the Serolan officiated at the service. Interestingly, it was not the Serekela who gave the sermon, but rather the Rekela Dariune. The Rekela delivered his sermon in a low voice, reading from a prepared text. Even those in the first rows seemed to be craning forward to hear. Ewen and Baris in the middle seats, and Tora and Sergeant Yerick in the cheap seats, had no hope of hearing.

As he sat there, actually pleased he could not hear the sermon, which was probably about the value of torture, Baris thought that the one thing the ceremony lacked the most was ale. Sarajin ritual was much more fun, and refreshing.

After the ceremony, the noble folk filed out as if there was a wedding. From the front pews to the rear pews the people moved in a wave.

After the service there was an hour before the soiree, to give the guests time to change into more appropriate clothing. Soratir ended around two o’clock, and so around three o’clock Sirs Ewen and Baris, along with Tora and Rolloch, made their way to Balim House.

Rolloch had not been at the service, and Tora inquired about his absence. “Bunch of codswallop,” he muttered. He didn’t have to go to the service, Baris thought petulantly.

Two men-at-arms wearing Balim’s livery guarded Balim House. They were not exactly checking invitations, but they did have a list, and fortunately Ewen and Baris were on the list.

As they walked through the small courtyard, Tora looked over to a small copse of trees near the house, where the retainers of the attending nobles had gathered. She looked for servants in the livery of the Earl of Vemion, and there were none. “Vemion is not here yet,” she whispered to Baris. The knight passed this snippet on to Ewen, who nodded. Tora and Rolloch slipped away to socialize with the retainers.

Near the door of the main house were two more guards. They looked at Sirs Ewen and Baris and let them in. Presumably they were in place to make sure none of the retainers wandered into the big house. Once inside, the chamberlain banged his stick for the knights, but did not formally announce them.

The two knights came into the great hall, which was open to a gallery above. Up there, to the right of the door and opposite the head table, some minstrels were warming up. The plucked the strings of their instruments and sang soft melodies to prepare their voices. On the wall behind the head chair hung a large shield adorned with the arms of the Earl of Balim, a field azure, a stag lodged argent. Two crossed halberds hung behind the shield. Immediately to the right of the front door was a beautiful tapestry, which appeared to flicker in the firelight: some of the threads appeared to be spun silver or gold. It was not immediately clear what the tapestry depicted, but it was a martial scene focused upon two knights, one in the arms of Balim, and another bearing the royal arms of Kaldor. The royal figure was scaled slightly larger. The two faced each other, but their swords were sheathed. Retainers surrounded them, women were in the vicinity as well, and there was a city in the background. The tapestry likely depicted an abstracted historical event. In the corners of the room were statues and a suit of armor. The visages on the statues appeared to be purposeful, representing real people.

The hall was not full, and the Earl of Balim was not yet in evidence. Baris and Ewen recognized almost all the other early arrivals: Sir Prehil, his father, the Baron of Kobe, Lady Bresyn Risai, Sir Houla Artona, Sir Fago Rheeder, and Lady Derwen Verdreth.

“Ewen, Baris!” Prehil exclaimed when he saw them. “Thank the gods!” He motioned them over, and they went to greet him, all smiles. Prehil was speaking with his father and another man. Ewen recognized the man, but could not quite find the name.

“At least this won’t be a dull party,” Prehil said. “You remember my lord father?” He motioned to Kobe, who had a patch over his left eye.

“I do,” Ewen said.

“I understand that you and my son have become quite close, one would say friends,” Kobe said.

“I consider Sir Prehil my very good friend, my lord,” Ewen confirmed.

“I am pleased to hear it.” The baron clapped his son on the back. “If he could become friends with a man who bested him, he is a better man than I, and a worthy heir to my barony.”

“Prehil is a formidable opponent, I count myself lucky to call him friend.”

“Indeed. Allow me to introduce my cousin, Asorn Firith.” The baron indicated the older man next to him, and now Ewen could put a name to the face. Asorn Firith was an old, thin man with a chalky complexion but a quiet dignity.

“Asorn, here is a litigant, but don’t hold that against him,” the baron said. “He is the lord advocate of Kaldor, and so not a man to cross!”

“Not at all, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Ewen greeted. “I am Sir Ewen Ravinargh, and this is my friend, Sir Baris Tyrestal.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” the baron said. “Your reputation precedes you, but I fear my cousin exaggerates.”

The conversation continued pleasantly in this vein as more guests arrived.

***

Outside, the talk among the retainers was mostly not of politics. There was some talk of banditry, as there had been rumors of bandits in and around the fens. The talk did not rise to very high a level, the kind that might compromise one’s liege and lead to the speaking servant being canned.

Tora spent a pleasant while speaking with one of the servants of Sir Houla, who was a Remken of the Order of the Lady of Paladins. As the conversation developed, Tora learned that there had been a meeting a meeting of the various chapter-houses of the Order of the Lady of Paladins in Kaldor, and the issue of the Solora Crusade came up once again. One faction of the Order wanted to join the crusade and send a large force to help. Another faction considered the crusade a Melderyni issue, and wished to split off from the Order of the Lady of Paladins and no longer be ruled by the grandmaster in Melderyn. At the meeting, the latter faction won out. However, the crusading faction did not take this lying down, and fully two-fifths of the Order left for the Crusade. The remaining three-fifths, of which Sir Houla was the leader, were going to form a new chapter in Kaldor. Sir Houla would almost certainly become grandmaster of the new Order.

Tora also listened in on the conversations of other retainers. Two of Kobe’s retainers were speaking of the Pagaelin, who had recently become disorganized. In recent years there had been no small amount of concern that the Pagaelin had been uniting and could constitute a threat to Kaldor. Fortunately, that unity had recently fractured, and the Baron believed that the time to strike had come. He had come to Tashal to petition the king for an army to move against the Pagaelin and crush them once and for all.

When the Earl of Vemion arrived, standing tall and proud, a hard look set on his face, accompanied by an older man, Tora took note. Their retainers walked over to the trees with the other lower class folk. Just before the Earl went into the hall, he turned to the older man and said, “This had better be worth our time, Morgal.”

***

The chamberlain banged his stick and announced, “Milords, ladies, and gentlemen, the Earl of Vemion!” All turned to watch as Declaen Caldeth entered the hall.

“I do so love family reunions,” Ewen muttered to Prehil.

“By Halea’s callipyginous posterior!” Prehil sputtered, choking on his drink. “Ewen, you have a set!”

Declaen Caldeth was immaculately attired in an Ebon Kald doublet and hose. Upon his head he wore a matching hat, and embroidered around the brim were wyverns. Sir Baris remembered seeing the Earl’s arms on display when he was in the Great Hall in Minarsas, that Vemion’s crest was a green wyvern.

Vemion surveyed the room, his gaze passing by Ewen, lingering briefly on the Baron of Kobe, and his visage tightened. And then the Earl and his companion, Morgal, who had once arrested Ewen, joined the party.

***

Meanwhile, Cekiya had decided to come pay Balim a visit. She was standing outside Balim’s compound, gazing up at the wall. Why did people build walls that were so easy to climb? She quickly and quietly made her way up the wall. As she was walking along the wall, trying to see what she could see, a guard spotted her. “Who are you, what are you doing here?”

“I saw a cat climb up a tree!” Cekiya exclaimed.

“I don’t give a fuck what you saw, could be a lion for all I care!” the guard bellowed. “Get out of here!””

Cekiya dropped off the wall into the courtyard and headed towards the entrance. The guard watched her as she made her way out. Cekiya wondered why he did not follow, and her question was answered when she glanced back and saw a pretty maid run up to the guard. As she made her way past an outbuilding and was out of sight of the guard, she climbed halfway up the wall and crouched like a gargoyle. From here she was hidden from view.

Meanwhile Tora was gambling with a man-at-arms in the service of the Baron of Stimos, the ambassador from Tharda. “One of the great lovers of Tashal,” the man said as he frowned at his dice.

“I hadn’t heard that,” Tora said.

“Oh, yes, a real lady, too, a Meleken. They used to be earls, I hear,” the man said, tossing his dice.

“Stimos is coming up in the world!”

“I suppose he is!” The man laughed. “He’s just recently, come up for air, if you know what I mean.” He looked down at his dice, and they were not favorable. “The King of Kaldor is back!” he said, as if searching for some good news. “Long may he reign!”

“A toast to King Haldan!” one of Firith’s men exclaimed.

Tora raised her cup. The dice were on her side.

***

By this time the entire rostrum of guests had arrived. They included, besides those already mentioned, the elder and younger Ladies Cheselyne, and Sir Kytem Curo. The Laranian officials arrived in a group, Dekyl, Rekela and Serolan. Sir Fago Rheeder came down from upstairs. Sir Rohn had arrived, accompanied by a man announced as Sir Migray Hosath.

Last, but not least, Aethel Atan graced the hall with his presence. Apparently he had decided that the color of the year needed some work. He was wearing Ebon Kald leather hose, a silk Ebon Kald doublet, with matching half-cape, a hat which was four times the size of Vemion’s, and he carried a stick capped with silver. When the chamberlain was about to announce him, he said, “No my good man.” He banged his own stick, announcing, “Well, I’m here!”

Shortly after that the doors were closed, and the chamberlain moved to the foot of the spiral staircase. He banged his staff for attention and announced the hosts. “My lords, ladies and gentlemen! Sir Karison Dariune!” Sir Karison gracefully made his way into the hall. “Sir Scina Dariune, and his wife Lady Erlene!” The couple walked down the steps, to polite applause. “Lady Donesyn Dariune!” The Lady made her way down the steps and greeted her guests with a smile that looked mostly genuine. The hosts moved to the side, flanking the staircase. The chamberlain banged his staff again. “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, his lordship, the right honorable the Earl of Balim!”

Troda Dariune strode down the steps and bowed to the assembly, who bowed back. He immediately made his way over to Vemion. The doors to the kitchen opened for servants carrying platters, and the party began in earnest.

Throughout the evening, Donesyn Dariune, the Earl’s sister, acted as hostess.

Ewen noted that the Troda greeted Vemion politely, as a cousin, but briefly. Troda then made his way over to Lady Cheselyne the elder and spoke with her briefly. Afterward, Lady Cheselyne came by to greet Ewen. “Sir Ewen, I am amazed to see you!”

“You didn’t think he had the guts?” Prehil asked.

Cheselyne gave Prehil the same look she would give to an errant boy who had stolen her tart.

“It is always a pleasure to see you, Lady Cheselyne, and I am glad to amaze you,” Ewen said.

“The evening will show witness,” Cheselyne stated. Her younger daughter glided over. “You remember my daughter, do you not?”

The younger Cheselyne curtsied, but it was clipped.

Ewen nodded. “Lady Cheselyne.”

“I was once Lady Caldeth,” the younger Cheselyne said a little hotly. Ewen had, after all, slain her husband at the tournament that had gained him such fame. “Perhaps you are after Lord Caldeth?”

“I would not,” Ewen said.

The younger Cheselyne went off towards her former father-in-law.

Cheselyne sighed. “You really must watch the guest list. One could wonder about Troda. It’s almost as if he wanted stir the pot.” She smiled mischievously. “I’m going to get a good seat.”

Meanwhile, Baris went over to speak to Sir Houla of Artona. He was hoping to continue the long stalled investigation into Arton Wyant of Whyce. Houla was speaking to Sir Morgal when Baris walked over.

“Greeting Sir Houla.”

“Sir Baris, it has been too long!” Houla said happily. “Do you know Sir Morgal?

“Sir Baris and I are acquainted,” Morgal said stiffly.

“I still remember that great hunt in Whyce!” Houla said. “That great kill you made!”

Baris began to explain that it had been Sir Ewen who made the kill, but Houla talked over him and told the story of the glorious hunt, where Baris stalked and single-handedly slew a gigantic boar.

Morgal nodded politely and enthused appropriately. “You look well, Sir Baris,” he said when the story was over. “Staying out of jail, are you?”

“Jail isn’t half as bad as that sermon this morning,” Baris said with a grin. Sir Houla laughed, while Morgal looked scandalized.

The conversation continued on the subject of hunting, one which Baris was quite comfortable with. He regaled Morgan and Houla with tales of his time hunting with the Sheriff of Golotha. Morgal loosened his guard, but he still seemed to think Baris was kith and kin to Morgath, so it wasn’t by much.

Meanwhile, Balim said goodbye to the Baron of Stimos. After the Earl left to attend other guests, the baron walked over to Ewen. “Well met Sir Ewen.”

“Hail to you.” Ewen greeted.

“I am sorry I have not been with you of late,” Stimos apologized. “I have been occupied.”

“I hope it was a pleasant occupation.”

“It has been,” Stimos said happily. “I have found a most delectable rose. I have peeled, plucked, and sniffed her, and removed petals to discover the most astonishing hidden depths.” He sighed. “It is said that a beautiful woman will make a man wax poetic.”

Ewen grinned. “I didn’t know you were such a gardener.”

“I have quite enjoyed the hoeing and tilling,” Stimos said, but then his face took on a serious mien. “You have many enemies in this room.”

“Lady Cheselyne thinks Balim is stirring the pot,” Ewen said neutrally.

“Lady Cheselyne is known to be a pot stirrer herself.”

“I hesitate to assume that Vemion’s purpose in Tashal is myself. Do you know why he’s here?” Ewen asked.

“I don’t think it’s you, but you may be the gravy of the roast.” Stimos lowered his voice. “I have heard, but cannot confirm, that his lady wife, the Countess of Vemion, has died.”

Ewen took a moment to digest that news. “One door closes ...” he muttered. “Did I mention, Lord Stimos, that my wife is with child?”

“Gods, really?” Stimos was thunderstruck. “You do work fast, don’t you!”

Ewen smiled. “I’ve been gardening myself.”

“Does Vemion know?” Stimos asked.

“No, he does not,” Ewen replied.

“Does Balim know?”

“No.”

“More importantly, does Cheselyne know?

Ewen shook his head.

“Well, this ought to be interesting,” Stimos said. “It will come out tonight, no doubt.” He looked around. “I notice that Lady Thilisa is not here.”

“When I give my respects to Balim I will tell him,” Ewen said.

Stimos looked over Ewen’s shoulder. “Here comes your chance.”

At that moment Troda Dariune, the Earl of Balim, approached Sir Ewen. Stimos and Ewen bowed. “Sir Ewen, my Lord Stimos,” Balim greeted. “Sir Ewen, thank you for coming, I was afraid that you would not come. But I am afraid I do not see your lady wife.”

Ewen cleared his throat. “Yes, my lady wife sends her regrets, she is abed with child.”

“Do you mean to say you are about to come a father!” Balim exclaimed.

Sooner than you think, Ewen thought, thinking of Rahel’s belly. “It is our fondest expectation!”

“That calls for a toast!” Balim grabbed a goblet from a passing tray and waved over the chamberlain. “We must call everyone to attention,” he told the chamberlain, who saw to it that goblets were passed around.

The chamberlain pounded his staff. “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, please attend on my Lord Balim.”

“This is a happy and grand occasion, and with Sir Ewen’s permission,” Balim said, although he had not asked Ewen’s permission, “it is my delight to announce that Sir Ewen’s wife, the Lady Thilisa Ravinargh, nee Caldeth nee Meleken, is with child, we hope a son, the heir to the Earldom of Vemion!”

“By Peoni’s fecund womb!” Prehil swore. Aethel Atan slapped his thighs and laughed out loud.

Declaen Caldeth threw his goblet to the ground, wine spilling like blood, and he stalked over to Ewen. The Earl looked the knight straight in the eye, his jaw quivering. He turned his gaze upon Balim. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” he yelled. “I plan to remarry, and bear a true heir.” He raised his fist and pointed at Ewen. “This upstart will never inherit.” With that, Vemion walked out, trailed by Sir Morgal.

There were a few heartbeats of silence, and then everyone began talking at once.

Sir Ewen, unfazed, looked back to Balim.

Balim returned the look. “Perhaps that news wasn’t welcome in all four corners of the kingdom?” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Apparently not,” Ewen agreed. “My wife, the Lady Thilisa, will be saddened to hear of the death of her mother.”

Stimos’s face softened. “Indeed, she will,” he said gently. “Please convey to her my condolences.” He put his hand on Ewen’s shoulder. “But now I must go, I am neglecting my other guests.” He went a few steps and then looked back at Ewen. “Oh dear,” he said, pointing toward the door. The two Lady Cheselyne’s were departing.

Perhaps the elder Cheselyne was already going to offer her daughter to Vemion? Ewen mused. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if I would have to widow the poor girl twice!” he muttered under his breath.

Stimos had apparently heard, however. “I would hope you would at least be discreet about it.”

***

Outside, Cekiya was still perching on the wall. She watched with interest as the Earl of Vemion stormed out of the house. Vemion did not even slow as he passed the copse where the retainers were. Morgal peeled off from his fuming lord and rushed over to the copse. “Men of Vemionshire, attend!” he commanded.

Tora’s opponent immediately jumped up and rushed off, but not before grabbing his coins. Tora looked at the dice he had just thrown and groaned: she would have won quite a bit.

Cekiya snuck along the wall toward the main gates of the compound. She crept over the wall and dropped to the street. She looked for Vemion, but instead glimpsed the Ladies Cheselyne the elder and younger as they departed. As the women exited, a carter, who had been lounging in the square, whacked his donkey. He came along and the ladies were carted toward their home, followed by Cekiya.

They were going very slowly, and Cekiya looked to see what was blocking the way. She realized that the cart was pacing the Earl of Vemion and Sir Morgal who walked ahead, Morgal limping every other step or so. Cekiya slipped back, keeping well out of sight.

***

Back in Balim House, Ewen was greeted by Aethel Atan. “Well, apparently some wetting and sweating worked for you. Yet, that was crude, perhaps I should just say congratulations.”

“Thanks, it seems I have a penchant for making myself the center of attention at these little get-togethers. Am I doing something wrong?”

Aethel laughed and slapped Ewen on the back, a surprisingly strong blow. “Oh, no, Sir Ewen! It’s not that you are doing something wrong, it’s just that,” he put an arm around Ewen and waved his other arm expansively, “the rest of this flower of Kaldoric society are so deadly dull, so corpselike, that they might as well have cobwebs on them!” He coughed. “Except me, of course.”

“Except you, of course,” Ewen agreed.

“Did you notice that my dear niece and dear grandniece departed in a hurry?”

“I did,” Ewen said. “I can’t imagine why.”

Aethel removed his arm and spun Ewen around. “Oh, Sir Ewen, you are being obtuse,” Aethel said.” “That is unworthy of your intellect, a natural philosopher such as yourself.”

Ewen noticed that Lady Bresyn was moving into his orbit. He made a show of considering Aethel’s remark. “I suppose, Aethel, that your grandniece is on the marriage market.”

“Oh, yes, you would know that because you put her there,” Aethel said. “What do you think, would she make a good Countess of Vemion?”

Ewen thought for a moment. “I think it would be a worthy marriage, her blood is unimpeachable,” he said evenly.

“Yes, yes it is,” Aethel agreed. “I think her mother thinks so too.”

“Do you think my lord the Earl of Vemion would be interested in your grandniece?” Ewen asked.

“I would assume he is interested in some wench with wide hips, young, and rather fertile,” Aethel quipped. “Oh, yes, and good blood, good birth, something of that nature.”

Lady Bresyn came up to the pair and curtsied “Sir Ewen, Aethel.”

Ewen sketched a small bow. “Lady Bresyn.”

“I must congratulate you on your impending child.”

“Thank you.”

“A child destined to loom large on the stage of Kaldor.”

“It seems the unfortunate tyke has already loomed large,” Ewen said.

“The Earl of Vemion doesn’t seem excited at the prospect of a grandson or granddaughter.”

“No.” Ewen sighed. “I find it strange my lady wife was not informed of the death of her lady mother. I will have to break the news when I get home.”

“Better from her loving husband,” Bresyn said softly. “I regret her death.”

“I never had the pleasure of meeting the lady.”

“Sir Ewen, it is, perhaps, inappropriate in this venue, but I shall venture it anyway. I would be very pleased if over the next few days you would condescend to join me to tea.”

Sir Ewen smiled pleasantly. “My lady, it would be my pleasure to do so.”

“I shall send word when a time will be convenient?” Bresyn inquired.

Ewen nodded.

Meanwhile, Sir Baris was continuing his conversation with Sir Houla, who was regaling another knight of the tale of Baris’s mighty deeds at Whyce. “You know, your tale of that hunt reminds me,” Baris said when the other knight had departed, “when we were in Whyce I heard a tale of a man, one Arton Wyant, brother of Hiloray, who had disappeared.”

“Wyant, is that not the miller?” Houla asked. “No, that would be the miller’s wife.”

“He was the brother of the miller’s wife,” Baris explained. “He was a traveler.”

“I can’t say I know anything about him, but the miller is a pillar of the community, a fine man,” Houla said.

“Being a traveler, I agreed to look for him, seeing as he’s been missing for three years,” Baris said.

“No, I didn’t know he’s missing. I’m surprised they didn’t come to me.”

“Perhaps they didn’t want to bother you with the matter, as there wasn’t much evidence to go on.”

“Say, Sir Baris,” Houla said after a moment, “I would love for you to come to Whyce sometime, and have another hunt!”

Baris smiled. “Nothing would please me more.”

“I am glad to hear it, you are a capital man where a boar is concerned. You could bring your companion Sir Ewen if you want to, but maybe it could be just you and me.”

Baris coughed, remembering the last time he and Ewen had gone hunting. Ewen had been hunting, but then he took an arrow in the thigh – Baris’s arrow. He coughed. “His last hunt didn’t go as well as ours.”

“I will be returning to Whyce over the next few days, the weather is getting better,” Houla said. “Perhaps towards the end of the month? Send word.”

“I will do so,” Baris confirmed. “Thank you for the invitation.”

***

Meanwhile, Ewen was speaking with Sir Fago Rheeder. “Good evening, Sir Ewen,” Fago greeted. Fago was a middle-aged, nondescript man, lacking of expression, but with cold, dead-fish eyes.

“Sir Fago, it seems we are always meeting in the wake of one of my marital announcements.”

“People will say we are in love,” Fago said strangely. “But allow me, Sir Ewen, to congratulate you on your impending paternity.”

“Thank you Sir Fago.”

“Tell me, will you feel the birth pangs?” Fago asked. “They say some men do.”

Ewen blinked, not sure what to make of that. “Well, I certainly hope not, as this will be my first experience with fatherhood. I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Would you? As a physician I would be most interested to know. But you say it would be your first experience with fatherhood, could it be so?”

“I have been a man of some circumspection.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Fago glanced in the direction of Aethel Atan, who had moved on. “I heard the phrase ‘wetting and sweating,’ not the phrase one would expect from a natural philosopher.”

“And Sir Fago, have the blessings of paternity been ones that you have enjoyed?”

“No,” Fago stated. “I once came close to the notion of marriage, but I found that I could not abide it.”
“Tell me, does that tend to be so amongst physicians?” Ewen asked. “Too much familiarity with the corpus?”

“No,” Fago said again. “It is not my expectation or experience but rather, can you feel a stab of hunger and lack of nourishment at lack of sight of her? Would she see through that, and pity your plight? That is what I could not imagine. But you must daily ache for those women, do you not, Sir Ewen?”

“If a man is not master of his appetites, then he is master of nothing, Sir Fago.”

“How well said.” Fago raised his glass. “ I would drink some wine with you, Sir Ewen.”

Ewen raised his glass, but did not smile. He took a sip and excused himself. Ewen noticed Sir Fago give him a slight backward glance as he moved on.

Ewen made his way to Lord Scina, heir to earldom of Balim, who was speaking with Prehil and his father.

“Sir Ewen, join us,” Prehil said.

“Sir Scina, it is good to see you again,” Ewen said.

Ewen, I’m glad you’re here, Prehil said. “I don’t’ think I speak out of school when I saw we have here the next leaders of Kaldor.” He paused. “I know what we heard Vemion say, but it is a far cry from a child conceived, under whatever circumstances, to a man in place. We have here, forgive me father, the next Earl of Balim, the next Baron of Kobe, and the next Earl of Vemion.”

“I am not in a rush to take power,” Scina said. “May my father live forever.”

“We all have to look to the future,” Prehil’s father said. “I too have no desire to exit the stage anytime soon, but sooner or later I’ll duck too low or duck too high, the sword will swing and I’ll lose another eye. So, I don’t think I can give any more to this conversation. Sir Karison, come, walk with me.” With that, the Baron of Kobe went off.

“I appreciate your support, Sir Prehil, Ewen said. “I would hope, Sir Scina, that with time we will be able to call each other friend.”

“Well, Ewen, at the very least we have no call to call each other enemy,” Scina said. “It is true that my father is suspicious of you, but my father is suspicious of everyone.” He gestured to Prehil. “Prehil here is right, unless that goat Declaen can new tup a ewe, you will be the next Earl of Vemion. That is something to reckon with.”

“Well, it seems we have an understanding,” Prehil said. “What next?”

“Well, I know, and you know, Sir Prehil, what your father knows about what this kingdom could do if we could expand the southern border, dealing with the Pagaelin tribes,” Ewen said.

“Oh, yes, there is no doubt that the time is ripe to consolidate the south,” Prehil agreed. “Not just Chybisa, which, I think we all agree, is Kaldor’s?”

“Here here!” Ewen exclaimed.

“But also the Pagaelin,” Prehil continued. “My father has told me the Pagaelin are as disjointed and disorganized as they have ever been. We have only to seek the King’s permission to act.”

“That’s interesting,” Scina said. “I don’t know that my father knows that.”

“Ah!” Prehil pointed to Balim and Prehil’s father, who were currently conferring. “If they aren’t talking about it now, I’m sure that they will at some point!”

“Such an adventure strengthens the blood, and would bring glory to this sleepy kingdom,” Ewen remarked.

“Here here!” Prehil exclaimed.

“What do you think Scina?” Ewen asked. “We know your father has his own opinions.”

Scina looked to his father, and his wife, and back at Ewen. ““I tell you, Sir Ewen, I long to unsheathe my sword for bloody war.”

Ewen extended his hand. “I will give my oath!”

A moment passed, a moment where it seemed that no heart beat. Then Scina took Ewen’s hand in his own. “I so pledge!”

Prehil placed his hand on theirs. “Let it be a triumvirate!”

***

Later in the evening Ewen and Baris ran into each other and conferred. Their evenings were going well. As the two were speaking, Sir Rohn and another man came up to them.

“Sir Ewen, I would like to introduce you to Sir Migray Hosath!” Rohn said, indicating the other man.

“A pleasure to meet you Sir Migray,” Ewen said, bowing.

“Sir Ewen, I have heard a great deal about you,” Migray said. “Sir Rohn has told me of your distinguished ancestry.” He looked at Baris. “And of yours as well, Sir Baris.”

“Sir Migray is the Lord Herald of Kaldor,” Rohn explained.

“I have heard a great deal about you,” Migray said again, speaking to Ewen.

“I have no doubt, Sir Rohn is quite indefatigable of ferreting out facts about me,” Ewen said. “He is a credit to his profession.” Rohn bowed in acknowledgment of the compliment.

“I understand, Sir Ewen, apart from your status as the First Knight of Kaldor,” Migray said, “for which I congratulate you, a worthy holder of said title.” Ewen bowed at this. “But I understand that you are the son of the late, rebellious, Earl of Tormau?”

“Yes, although I should specify not rebellious against Kaldor’s king.”

“Of course not, and yet, the Earl of Tormau, was, as I understand it, in rebellion against his lawful king?”
“Yes,” Ewen confirmed. “One cannot choose one’s relatives, I’m afraid.” Baris caught the merest hint of a smile at that.

“I have heard that,” Migray said.

Sir Rohn appeared to look off into the distance. “Most of us can’t choose our relatives.”

“And yet, Sir Ewen,” Migray drawled, “you were knighted by the king your father rebelled against?”

“That, Sir Migray, is because, while disloyalty may have run within the veins of my father, it is an alien thing to me.”

“Oh, what a capital response!” Migray declared. “You are indeed a perfect puissant knight! Is that not so, Sir Rohn?”

“Yes, it is, Sir Migray,” Rohn agreed.

“Well, Sir Ewen, do I understand it, that you are not going to inherit a Thardan earldom?” Migray asked.

“Sir Migray, the Earldom of Tormau is no more, there is nothing to inherit,” Ewen explained. “I have left all that behind to make a fresh start here in Kaldor. I arrived just thirteen months ago.”

Rohn whispered something in Migray’s ear.

“Oh, oh!” Migray blurted. “Well, I’m so sorry Sir Ewen, I did not realize that, well, mum’s the word! I understood that you were a legitimate son! Well, you’ve managed to do rather well here, haven’t you!”

“Thank you, Sir Migray. It appears if I am to inherit an earldom, I will have to find one myself.”

“How very enterprising of you,” Migray said.

“It is not an enterprise without obstacles, as you may have noticed earlier this evening.”

“Yes, my cousin’s departure.”

“And yet my mother always told me, and what was her name?” Ewen said. “Oh well, no matter.”

Sir Rohn groaned and put his face in his palms.

“That’s funny Sir Migray, I completely forgot what my mother told me.”

“No matter, Sir Ewen, I have quite forgotten – oh, no I haven’t – oh, that’s right, one earldom or another! It matters not,” Migray said. “My cousin, Sir Ewen, has spoken of you to me often.”

“Has she, Sir Migray?”

“Oh, yes, but never anything comprehensible. Between you and I, I have never known her to say anything comprehensible.”

“She is a formidable woman, no doubt,” Ewen said.

“Indeed,” Migray agreed, “and a mystery to me.”

Baris, grinning, looked upon Sir Rohn, who wore a completely different expression. Rohn looked like he was regretting the entire encounter, and was wondering why he ever introduced Ewen and Migray.

“Sir Migray, as a newlywed, I must confess that I continue to find the female a difficult enigma to comprehend,” Ewen said.

“Sir Ewen, as do we all, the female of the species might as well be from Yashain,” Migray agreed. “Oh, your excellency!”

At that point, the Serekela, Edine Kynn, joined them.

“Sir Migray,” Edine greeted.

“Your excellency,” Migray and Rohn said, as they bowed and made their departure.

The archbishop looked around, and found himself standing next to Ewen. “How do you fare, Sir Ewen?”

“Tolerably well, your excellency,” Ewen said. “As you heard earlier this evening, my affairs are busy.”

“They seem very public,” Edine said.

“I conveyed my lady’s regrets to Lord Balim, and he chose to make them public.” Ewen frowned. “One should not question one’s host.”

“I must say, Sir Ewen,” Edine said, “I am feeling quite neglected, being your liege lord and all.”

Ewen blinked. “Your excellency, I would be happy to call upon you at any time.”

“Of that I have no doubt, when your busy schedule permits.” Edine paused. “I was speaking to the King today, and he said your loyalties might be divided between he and me.”

“The possibility that there should be a difference of loyalty never occurred to me,” Ewen said, as he was in reality loyal to neither man.
“That is just what I told His Grace,” Edine agreed. “Do you know what he told me?”

“I would be intrigued to hear.”

“He suggested, that in order to regularize the relationship, that perhaps I would cede Varayne to the Crown.”
“May I ask what your excellency’s response was?”

“I told his grace that I would normally be overjoyed to provide the Crown with a greater landholdings, but it would be wrong for me to alienate the patrimony of the Church,” Edine said. “I wondered, Sir Ewen, if you had any knowledge of this afore, as it were.”

“I had no idea the King harbored such a thought,” Ewen said truthfully, for once. “I haven’t seen the King since the levee.”

“It appears the King has been considering these lands ever since.”

“Perhaps the King would be interested in granting Inbernel and the attached manors to the Church?” Ewen wondered.

Edine’s face tightened, and his mouth formed a straight line. “If I thought that were a possibility I would have suggested it myself.” He sighed. “The case remains, I may need to cede Varayne to the crown. Unless, Sir Ewen, you can tell me how to avoid that. If you can, you will retain the good will of the Laranian Church.”

“A thorny problem, your excellency,” Ewen said. “I will turn my mind to it.”

“You need not give me an answer immediately,” the archbishop said. “But soon, as I am under pressure to the King. I would not want to lose for the church such a lucrative manor.”

With that, the archbishop moved along.

***

Meanwhile, Cekiya was following the Ladies Cheselyne who were following the Earl of Vemion. Eventually they made it to Lady Cheselyne the elder’s home. The Earl of Vemion, having indicated to Sir Morgal to go on, was waiting at the gates. After the carter was paid and sent off, the Earl and the ladies had a brief conversation outside the gate. Cekiya wished she could hear what they were talking about, but she couldn’t get close enough without being caught. After a few minutes, the ladies went into Lady Cheselyne’s house, and the Earl of Vemion moved on toward Caldeth house.

Cekiya turned back toward Balim house, but turned too fast and instead smacked face first into a wall. She shook her head and decided instead to make her way home to Raven Hall.

***
It was getting late. Before Ewen and Baris departed Balim House, Aethel Atan came up. “You know,” he said, I am considering an expedition of exploration, perhaps you would like to accompany me?”

“Where is this expedition headed?” Baris wondered.

“I’m not sure,” he confessed. “Anzeloria, I think.”

“Is this something you are proposing for tonight?” Ewen asked.

“Oh, no no,” Aethel said. “It will take weeks to plan locally, and months before we depart from, I guess, Thay. We would, of course, have to travel down the Genin Trail to get there. But I am feeling the itch, and perhaps you are as well.”

“While such an expedition may prove quite diverting, I am not sure my interests in Kaldor would benefit,” Ewen said.

“Oh, certainly not, you would surely be leaving your children orphans,” Aethel said.

“Perhaps Sir Baris would be interested in accompanying you,” Ewen said quickly, wondering if Aethel had merely misspoke, hoping he had. “What do you say, Sir Baris?”

Baris thought for a few moments. “It sounds most intriguing, but I don’t know if now is the right time for me to go.”

Aethel shrugged. “It was just a thought. Well, I must call it a night.”

“We hope to see you at Galopea’s feast,” Ewen said.

When Aethel had departed, Ewen and Baris paid their respects to Balim and took their leave.

Kelen 16, 732

Tashal, Kaldor
Raven Hall

Given the current situation, with the Earl in the city and his many enemies aware of his wife’s condition, Ewen put the men on alert, and assigned a few more Thardan lads to be on patrol.

By late morning, Lady Thilisa had not yet emerged from her bedchamber. Walin of Vastair knocked on Sir Ewen’s study where he was conferring with Sir Baris on tactical matters. Ewen bid him come in.

“Sir Ewen, a visitor,” Walin said. “It is Sir Harth.”

Ewen got up. “Bid him to come up.”

A few minutes later Sir Harth joined them in Ewen’s study. “Sir Ewen, and Sir Baris, since you are here, you should come with me,” Harth said, his tone serious. “Cekiya, you can come with us if you like.”

Harth led Ewen, Baris and Cekiya, closed mouthed, to Hag Hall. Once inside they went up the stairs, not to the small hall, but to the great hall.

“Please wait,” Harth bade them. He went back upstairs, and a few minutes later, Rahel, seven months pregnant, came down. She was followed by Elena of Lerik, and another woman who bore a resemblance to Elena.

Cekiya recognized the other woman as the Lexigrapher from Olokand, Releyne of Lerik, Elena’s sister. Releyne was an attractive woman, though not quite as attractive as her sister, who stood to one side looking full of herself.

Rahel sat down in a comfortable looking chair, bowing her back as she did so. She turned to Releyne. “Tell Sir Ewen what you have told me.”

Releyne looked at Ewen. “There are vikings in Olokand. They arrived three days ago; sixteen war boats, some one thousand warriors. They have invested the castle, and trapped Prince Brandis within. I do not know what their plans are. I waited as long as I could to divine their intentions, and then I felt it was necessary to come to Tashal and tell the tale.”

Ewen took the news stoically. Baris could feel his blood pumping, and his hands were in fists in expectation of holding a blade in anger.

Rahel looked at Ewen. “You do understand that Releyne is a Deryni, that she has come here via portal, and that what she has told you is going on at Olokand is still going on.

“And word has not yet reached Caer Elend,” Ewen breathed.

“Word would not be more than a day or two from Tashal,” Rahel agreed. “We know, before Tashal knows, that the vikings have arrived at Olokand.”