Session Ninety-Eight - January 26, 2013

Wherein the ongoing story of the FtF campaign may be found ...

Session Ninety-Eight - January 26, 2013

Postby Matt » Wed Apr 17, 2013 10:58 pm

Larane 3, 732
Kaldor, Tashal, Hag Hall
Rahel’s Bedchamber


The cries of a newborn babe filled the air. Sir Ewen and his sister, the Lady Rahel, gazed lovingly upon their son. She lay upon the bed, flush from her recent labors. Ewen smiled and, despite himself, was overcome with emotion.

There was a knock, and then Sir Flavius strolled into the bedchamber, a few women in tow. Given the size of her bosom, one of these was apparently the wet-nurse.

A goblet of wine in his hand, Flavius stood above Rahel and, without a word, placed his left hand on the baby’s head. He closed his eyes, and seemed to be in a trance.

Ewen felt the familiar stirring in the back of his brain, letting him know that someone nearby was of Deryni heritage.

After a few moments Flavius pronounced, “He’s good.” With that, he took the baby from Rahel and gave it to the wet-nurse, who hurried off, taking the baby’s cries with her.

“All of you, out! And close the door – no, wait, bring the flagon.” A servant handed Flavius the flagon, and he poured himself some more wine. “Okay, now close the door.” He did not return the flagon; instead it floated to a nearby table.

“I will now check you.” Flavius placed his hand on Rahel’s head, closed his eyes and once more began murmuring. After a moment, satisfied, he nodded. “You’re fine, and should recover well.”

“This child will be somewhat different,” Flavius said, and turned to Ewen. “I know of your parentage, Ewen, at least half of it. And, while, this is not a generally understood phenomenon, we do know that power flows through certain families.” He paused. “And your father is, shall we say, one of the most impressive examples; my own power pales in comparison to his.” He took a swig of wine. “And I, who am a healer, and one of the few of our race to also dabble in the arts of the Shek P’var, have made something of a study of our heritage.” He picked up the flagon for more wine, and raised the goblet to his lips. “I say all this, not to sound pompous, though I often do, but to tell you, who do not know me, that I know something about this. And what I can tell you is that though each of you is a half Deryni, you have essentially birthed a full Deryni.” He took a breath. “The baby has inherited the full measure of power from each of you, and he has the potential to be as powerful as his grandfather. Time will tell how this will manifest, but he should be tended carefully. And now, I am going to pour myself some more wine.”

“I thank you for your expertise, Sir Flavius, and for you ministrations to the Lady Rahel and our son,” Ewen said.

“It was my pleasure,” Flavius replied between mouthfuls of wine.

***

Later that afternoon, Aeomund and Tora were sharing a drink at Baris’s inn, The Elf & Dwarf.

“Sir Aeomund, I am indeed glad to see another Laranian here,” Tora greeted him. “I’d be honored if you would share a drink with me,” she said and thrust a mug of ale at the man, causing some of the foam to froth over the lip.

Aeomund sat down and took the proffered drink. He took a sip, and then a gulp. The ale was quite good.

“Sir Baris mentioned you were part of the Order of the Lady of Paladins, as am I. What is your connection to the Order?” Aeomund asked.

“I was trained by Sergeant Yerick, who was my drill instructor, and served at Jenkald,” Tora explained.

“I know Yerick well,” Aeomund said.

“After leaving the Order, I travelled for some time, and then I entered Sir Baris’s service,” Tora said, skipping over the circumstances that caused her to leave the Order of the Lady of Paladins. “Since then it has been very interesting – never boring. But I find if you keep your head down and do your duty, all will be well.”

“As a servant of Erkenwald, I believe duty is the primary job of a knight,” Aeomund pronounced.

Tora was impressed. “As a Laranian, you never need pay for ale here,” she said. “Sir Baris, a good and honest knight, would not have it otherwise I am sure.”

“He seems to be quite the boon companion for Sir Ewen,” Aeomund observed.

“Yes, they are very close.” Tora sipped her ale, considering her words. “Sir Ewen is obviously much more ambitious than Sir Baris. Sir Baris follows his cue, but has different ambitions. I suspect Sir Ewen is coming up in the world, and I suspect Baris will follow.”

“Neither seem to be from Kaldor,” Aeomund said.

“Yes, they are both westerners,” Tora confirmed. “You are from Kaldor like myself, yes?”

“I grew up in Tashal.”

“I’m from Sordel.”

“How long have you been out of the service of the order?” Aeomund asked.

Tora coughed on her ale. “Awhile.” She quickly changed the subject. “Tell me about the crusade.”

“It has not been going well.” Aeomund sighed. “It may be a divisive point for the Order.” He did not yet know that the Order had already split.

“I would say we haven’t seen the last of the Vikings,” Tora said. “And because Ewen has friends in high places, we will be there when the battle takes place, in the front, where we belong!” Clearly she missed battle.

“Has there been word of Yerick?” Aeomund asked.

“I spoke to him a few months ago. I ran into him when there was a fearful killer in town, and Ewen’s ‘helpers’ tracked him down.” Tora was still not clear about the role or status of Ewen’s friends. “We spoke to him during the investigation. That was the last time we spoke. But he is on the brink of retirement.”

“He was a good man, we shared many adventures,” Aeomund said. He raised his mug. “To Yerick!” Tora clinked her mug into his and took a long swig.

In addition to avoiding telling Aeomund about the circumstances surrounding her leaving the Order, Tora also avoided telling him about how she got Yerick in trouble.That would likely lead to unpleasant questions about why she left the Order. Instead, Tora quickly changed the subject, regaling Aeomund with tales of the recent war. The ale kept flowing, and the two enjoyed a pleasant morning trading war stories.

***

That morning, Sir Baris awoke in an unfamiliar bed. Normally when this occurred, there was a nubile woman lying next to the knight. Unfortunately, he was alone. Baris looked around. The room looked familiar, but he was not used to seeing it from that angle. Then he remembered that his innkeeper, Barton, had given the knight his own room, as Baris’s room had been rented out.

Baris rolled out of bed and stretched, working out some of the kinks in his back that came from sleeping in someone else’s bed. It was something he was used to. Baris sniffed – something smelled delicious. He followed his nose out of Barton’s room and into the small kitchen.

There was a new face there, a slip of a young woman, a little on the mousy side but attractive with brown hair. She appeared to be attending to the morning baking. At least, that is what Baris assumed, having very little experience or interest in culinary matters before they reached the table. The knight noticed that her hair was wet, on the verge of drying. It shined in the early morning sun drifting through the window. The day was off to a good start.

“Ah, I don’t recognize you, what are you making?” ‘And do you need any cream?’ the knight thought lecherously.

“I am making the scones,” the girl replied. She looked at this strange man askance. “Should you be in Master Gelram’s room?”

“My normal room was taken; I am the owner.”

“Oh, you must be Sir Baris,” the girl said, averting her eyes with a curtsy.

“It is I,” said that worthy with a grin.

“Would you care for a scone? I have some fresh baked over here,” the girl said, stepping over to a table and offering Baris the tray.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Baris said. The girl gave him a scone, and without being bidden, drew a mug of ale.

Yes, it was going to be a good day. And Barton was an excellent judge of employees.

At that, Barton came into the kitchen, making the tiny room quite crowded. “Ah, Sir Baris, good morning, I hope my poor accommodations were to your liking.”

“They were fine,” Baris said, nodding.

“Back to work girl!” Barton scolded.

“Oh, no worries, she was assisting me,” Baris said, coming to the defense of the lass, as was his knightly duty.

“I thought we could use extra help, I might keep her, might not.”

“How’s business?” Baris asked.

“It’s the summer fair, never better,” Barton said proudly. “We are probably pulling in four times the normal daily take.”

“That’s very good,” Baris said, his eyes glazing over at the discussion of math. Whatever Barton meant, it sounded good. The knight took another bite of his scone. “If she always makes scones this well, you should keep this young lass,” he said. “What is your name, girl?”

“Amelia, my lord.”

***

“I believe the Silver Caravan is still in Kaldor,” Aeomund informed Sir Ewen. He was meeting Ewen privately in Ewen’s study. “It would have been impossible for the Vikings to portage the treasure in so short a time without being caught.”

“That is an astute observation,” Ewen complimented, amused.

“I don’t know where it is, but it must be somewhere in the kingdom.”

“It might be wise to be discreet about this supposition,” Ewen warned. “I will make some inquiries.”

Aeomund nodded. “That was why I brought it to your attention alone.”

“I thank you. Sir Aeomund, the conversation last night at Galopea’s Feast was a trifle unusual. I trust I can count upon your discretion.”

“Duty is the highest form of knighthood, and as such my duty is solely to my liege lord in all things. It is a reflection both of my religion and of my profession of arms,” Aeomund said seriously.

Ewen smiled. “That is all it should be.” The smile faded. “I have rarely been betrayed by those closest to me Sir Aeomund, but when it has happened, the outcome has not been pleasant. I trust we understand each other.”

***

“So, that’s it, you’re mustering us out?” Smoak said.

Tora nodded. “I’m afraid so.” She had gathered the remaining members of the White Ravens: Smoak, Tynder and Flynt, at the Elf & Dwarf to deliver the news. Before each man was a free mug of the inn’s finest ale. She had been quite liberal with Baris’s larder of late.

“But, we survived the war, that’s gotta count for something!” Tynder grumbled.

“Yeah, we’re tough,” Flynt said.

Tora shook her head. “I’m sorry, but on the bright side, war is bound to start up again sometime. And, in the meantime, I’m sure you’ll be able to join another band. You’re veterans now.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Smoak said.

Tora raised her mug, and the three men did the same. “To the White Ravens, those who are left, and those who we behind left on the field of glorious battle.”

“To the White Ravens!” they all said together, clinked their mugs and swigged their ale, thoughts on war and fallen comrades.

Later in the evening, after the White Ravens had departed, Tora was sitting at the bar. Gathric refilled her drink.

“I don’t like that Amelia,” the bartender said.

“Oh?” Tora wondered. She had heard Barton had hired a new cook. “Why don’t you like her?”

“She has a dagger,” Gathric said.

“Where is she from?”

Gathric shrugged. “Somewhere in Kaldor.”

“So, she doesn’t have any family here, she’s a young girl, alone, of course she has a dagger,” Tora said, as if this was obvious.

“She threatened to use it!” Gathric said, trying to explain his reasoning.

Tora perked up, starting to understand. “How did this come up?” she said slowly.

“We were both downstairs, and … ” the bartender mumbled..

“That’s why she has it,” Tora snapped. “I like her already. She stays.”

Tora finished her drink and went into the kitchen to find Amelia. “Hi, I’m Tora. If you ever have any problems, you come to me. I work directly for Sir Baris: I am his retainer. Sir Baris is a good guy, you can trust him, and you can trust me.”

Amelia nodded and thanked Tora.

Tora had a sudden thought. ‘Well, he has to stick it somewhere, she’s a perfectly nice girl, and won’t hurt his chances of landing a landed wife,’ Tora mused. Plus, Amelia would be much cheaper than the girls at Galopea’s Feast. That was Tora, always looking out for Baris’s best interests.

***

Tora and Baris, Aeomund and his huntswoman Kittiara, along with Ewen’s squire Uldis, were out for a hunt. It was a beautiful Harnic day: foggy, but otherwise clear. Kittiara was quite an accomplished huntress, and, at Aeomund’s suggestion, was leading the hunt. Tora was disturbed that this barbarian thought she was Tora’s equal.

The hunting party stalked through the woods, listening to the whistle of the birds. Kittiara scouted ahead, Aeomund and Baris right behind. Tora chatted with Uldis quietly, but he was as quiet and awkward as usual, answering her queries monosyllabically.

Suddenly Kittiara raised her right hand in a fist, ordering a halt. She pointed off to the east, and there, barely visible through the trees, was the tail of a young adult doe. Apparently the animal was eating some berries from a bush.

The party was perfectly still, and quiet as the grave. Aeomund signaled that he would go for the kill, and he stepped forward carefully, barely rustling the leaves as he maneuvered for a good position.

A swallow chirped from somewhere up in the trees, complaining about something rustling towards it, a squirrel no doubt. The doe continued happily eating berries.

Aeomund stood perfectly still, legs slightly bent, and raised his bow, sighting along an arrow fletched with red and yellow feathers. He pulled drew the arrow to his ear, let out a breath, and released.

A moment later the deer yelped in pain, and fell to the ground, an arrow with red and yellow feathers sticking out of its heart.

“Great shot, Sir Aeomund!” Sir Baris congratulated. “Venison is on the menu tonight!”

“Can we make sausage out of it?” Aeomund wondered.

On the way back, Tora’s arrow streaked through the air, straight past branches and leaves to perfectly skewer a partridge on the wing.

“A fine shot!” Baris exclaimed as the bird plummeted to the earth. Tora nodded her acknowledgement of the compliment, but did not otherwise bring attention to her accomplishment. She lowered the hartbow of Imarë and trotted off to collect her kill.

“A fine kill,” Kittiara whispered when Tora returned with her partridge. Tora turned away, satisfied.

***

Late in the afternoon, Ewen was sitting in his study, planning his next move. There was a knock at the door, and Kaelyn entered.

“Ah, my dear wizard, what brings you to my study?”

“I thought I might take the opportunity of Baris’s absence, and hence the peace and quiet, to do some scrying. I would appreciate it if the servants avoided my scrying chamber. Also, did you have any suggestions on whom I might spy upon?”

“Perhaps we should see what my Lord father-in-law is up to,” Ewen suggested.

“Very well,” Kaelyn said and backed out.

A short time later there was another knock on the door, and a servant entered and handed Ewen a missive.

“Interesting,” Ewen said to himself after reading the note. Sir Danyes Bernan had invited Ewen and the rest of the party to dinner that evening, promising “entertainment and revelations.”

In the past, Ewen had avoided accepting the invitations of Danyes, but given his superior social standing compared to when he had first arrived in Tashal, he thought he could get away being seen with the social pariah at least once. Baris, the letch, would no doubt be enthusiastic about the prospect of learning just went on at these rumored parties.

Although, it could be a trap, Ewen mused. Best bring Aeomund and Tora along as well, just in case.

***

Before heading off to whatever bawdy “entertainment” Sir Danyes had in mind, Ewen went to Hag Hall to see his sister-lover, Rahel. When the knight arrived she was up and about as though she had not even been pregnant.

Rahel’s rooms were quiet, as their newly born son and his nursemaid had been moved to one of the rooms off the great hall. “This nursemaid is an exceptional creature, and has been extensively trained for caring for a Deryni child – she was chosen for far more than her lactation ability,” Rahel remarked.

Rahel and Ewen sat on a small couch in Rahel’s chambers, clasped their hands together and bowed their heads. Ewen entered her mind, and she, his.

In Ewen’s mind, Rahel saw his plans for using Deryni poison on the enemy Deryni, Merasha, and imparted to him her knowledge of the subject. It was a very rare poison, which in small doses created nausea and headaches in Deryni. In larger doses, it had the potential to disable Deryni abilities, and possibly cause unconsciousness. She did not know how much was required for the poison to be fatal, but it was certainly possible.

‘It needn’t be fatal,’ Ewen thought in Rahel’s mind. ‘Disabling her Deryni abilities would help me kill the lady.’

Ewen sensed Rahel was reticent. He understood in her that it was an unwritten code that Deryni did not do this to each other. After all, if word of this weakness got out, the consequences would be dire. Even their father, Arren of Melderyn, did not use the poison. Its principal use among the Deryni was how she had used it on Ewen: to detect the presence of Deryni powers. It had been difficult to obtain even the small amount she was given.

Ewen, having learned of his Deryni nature comparatively recently, did not hold the same compunctions regarding the use of this poison.

***

Around seven o’clock that evening, Cekiya followed Sirs Ewen, Baris, and Aeomund, along with Tora, to the abode of Sir Danyes Bernan. His home was right behind Lady Cheselyne’s house. Ewen, Baris, and Aeomund wore bastard swords as befitting their rank, and Tora bore a shortsword, Cekiya knew it was her duty to keep watch over Ewen, who was clad in black leather armor under his clothing. Aeomund wore a leather tunic under his. Cekiya noted Baris was unarmored, and wondered why he always needed to be different. It must have something to do with his fascination with rats. Tora was carrying a bottle of brandy from Ewen’s estates.

As the party passed Osel house, Cekiya noticed the presence of guards. Evidently Harabor was in town. Finally, they arrived at Danyes’s home. Torches were lit, but no guards were in evidence, Cekiya noted. While the Ewen went to the front door, the little adder scurried up the wall surrounding the small compound.

The adder heard a rap upon the door. A few moments later it opened. “Sir Ewen and company?” a male voice asked. Cekiya leaned over and managed to catch a glimpse of the man at the door. She frowned; while he was dressed nicely, he still looked a little shabby. His hair hung about his head in greasy strings.

“Indeed,” Ewen confirmed. “Good evening.”

“Sir Danyes is expecting you,” the man said. “I am Kerl, the steward. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable.”

Three oak tables were set up in the standard horseshoe shape, but set wider apart. Another table was inside the horseshoe, without benches. There were eight place settings, and food was already on the tables. The walls were covered in faded tapestries, but, much to Baris’s disappointment, they showed nothing scandalous or otherwise special. Just the normal scenes of hunting and tournaments any knight might have hanging upon his walls.

“Well, well, Sir Ewen, thank you for accepting my invitation,” Sir Danyes said as he strode down the stairs.

“Sir Danyes,” Ewen said as the others rose. “Thank you for proffering it.”

“Well, I’ve been wanting to entertain you for some time, as you know. Now, I know your companion, Sir Baris, at least by reputation.”

Baris nodded, “Sir Danyes.”

“But I do not know the other fellows.”

“Allow me to introduce Sir Aeomund Legith,” Ewen said.

“Sir Aeomund Legith,” Danyes said.

“And this is Sir Baris’s retainer, Tora of Sordel.”

Danyes took a long look at Tora. “My apologies,” he said at last. “Come, sit, eat!” Danyes sat down and, with no further ceremony, began munching on a chicken leg. “The first entertainment will be down momentarily.” He smiled, showing his teeth. “The others are warming up.”

They took their seats. Tora said nothing, but tried unsuccessfully to catch Ewen’s eye.

Ewen gestured at the bottle Tora was holding. “I hope you will accept this token of our appreciation. It is a fine brandy from one of my manors, I hope you enjoy it.”

The bottle was handed down to Danyes, who popped the cork and took a deep swig directly from the bottle. “Ah, that’s good, we’ll have to start with that!” He gestured to a servant, who took the bottle and filled everyone’s glass with some of the brandy. “A toast, to the King!”

“To the King!”

“And to the King’s mistress,” Danyes said quietly as everyone was swallowing.

Aeomund almost choked, but said, “To the King’s mistress, because it’s not me!”

“Well, we can all drink to that!” Ewen said.

At that point all eyes in the room turned to a voluptuous woman dressed in a gown that even the worshipers of Halea would reject as too revealing.

“This brandy is excellent!” Aeomund said, and took another drink from the bottle.

“Brandy, is that her name?” Baris said distractedly, not taking his eyes off the woman.

The woman began swaying her hips, causing her gown to move in quite a distracting and alluring manner. It left very little to the imagination, in fact Baris did not have to imagine quite a bit. Somehow, with no apparent effort, she ended up on the table, and was now dancing directly in front of the diners. Baris gulped.

“What do you think of her Ewen?” Danyes asked.

Ewen, from his vantage point directly in front of the dancer’s hips, said, “Very nice. Quite talented.”

“In many other ways!” Danyes said. “I could reserve her for you if you want.” He drank some more brandy. “After the war, you must’ve built up an appetite!”

“Let’s see how the evening progresses, shall we?”

“That’s true, there are other models to look at! No one every chooses the first filly out of the paddock anyway!”

Tora, growing increasingly uncomfortable, spoke up. “Excuse me, gentleman, I have no right to be here among my betters. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Oh, no no no, we won’t have that!” Danyes objected.

Tora stood up. “Oh, no, it’s only proper,” and with that she scurried off to the kitchen.

“Can I help you?” Kerl said in his gravelly voice as Tora entered the kitchen.

“Yes, well, I realized I was not in the right place. I’m not a noble,” Tora said.

“That doesn’t matter,” Kerl replied.

“Well, where can a servant have some peace and quiet and be servanty … ” Tora looked around and saw that the other servants seemed a little downtrodden. They were poorly clothed for a house of this sort.

“Well, there really is no place, “Kerl said.

“Could I at least have the dinner that was going to be served at the table?”

“It’s at the table.”

“Yes, all right, thank you,” Tora said. “Understood.”

“As one of Sir Danyes’s guests, he would be expecting you to stay,” Kerl urged.

“I was the servant of one of his guests, not one of his guests, it was a misunderstanding that I intend now to correct.”

“And I repeat, that does not matter to Sir Danyes. He will be most offended and wroth with each and every one of us in this room if you do not accept his hospitality.”

“Goodbye!”

Tora made her way out the back door. Unfortunately, she found herself in the rear courtyard, which was surrounded by low walls. There was no way to the front gate from the rear of the compound. Unwilling to go back in, and through the hall where the “entertainment” was occurring, Tora attempted to shinny up the wall. Unfortunately she was unsuccessful and fell back down. There was a lot of unsuccessful mounting going on, she thought. Fortunately she made it over the wall on her second attempt, and walked briskly toward the front of the compound.

“Good party?” a voice whispered from the shadows. Tora started and reached for her blade, but then her brain registered Cekiya’s voice.

“The knights are having a fine time,” Tora replied. “The knights.”

“The gate’s on the other side,” Cekiya whispered.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m just taking a nightly walk, it’s a good evening for it.”

“I have to go and wait for Sir Baris,” Tora said. “Although I suspect he won’t make an appearance anytime soon, but duty calls.” With a nod she bid Cekiya adieu and went to the front of Danyes’s compound, waiting in the shadows by the front gate.

It was quite boring. Baris was in there for a long time, and the hunting trip had been tiring; Tora was exhausted. Although she struggled mightily to avoid it, she fell asleep on watch.

***

“Tora can’t handle a little dancing?” Danyes teased.

“I don’t think she’s ever seen any others but her own,” Baris said, still distracted by the globes in front of him. “She might not even look at herself.”

By this time, the dancer had managed to lose what little she had been wearing, and was fully naked atop the table. After dancing that way for a little while, always gliding gracefully away when a patron absentmindedly stretched out a hand, she gathered up her veils and departed upstairs.

“Kerl, Kerl!” Danyes called, and the steward appeared at his shoulder.

“Bring out the other dancers.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Two young women, barely into their teens, and barely dressed, arrived and began dancing around the tables.

“Oh!” Danyes exclaimed after a while. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the privy.”

Baris hardly noticed the man’s absence, entranced as he was by the dancing.

He did notice, however, when the door suddenly burst open and several armed men, unadorned with any heraldry, rushed into the room. The dancers screamed in horror, until they were cut down by the charging men. Baris counted almost a dozen, and they were still coming! The attackers were clad in ring or leather armor with half-helms and they carried shortswords and wooden shields.

Baris stood and drew his sword; he saw Ewen and Aeomund had done the same. These men were animals, to kill defenseless women – children, really. He would show them what for!

Suddenly, there was no time to think, as a man-at-arms stabbed at Baris, who parried and riposted fast as lightning, shattering his opponents hastily raised shield. A second attacker stepped in and, yelling an incoherent battle cry, slashed at Baris, who caught the shortsword on his blade, whipped his sword around and stabbed at the second man, who sidestepped and thrust back. The knight tried to parry, but he was too slow and took a cut on his left forearm. He took a step back, so his chair partially guarded his right flank.

“Now this I understand!” Sir Aeomund exclaimed. Two men stood before him, and wasting no time, the knight struck first, but his target took the blow on the shield. The impact rang down the blade, straining the knight’s hand, but his sword held strong. The other man-at-arms tried to take advantage of what the saw as an opening, but Aeomund expertly parried his clumsy attack, batting the man’s sword aside and giving him the opportunity to slash the man’s throat. With a gurgle, the attacker stumbled and fell onto his back.

Because the table was between Ewen and his attackers, none had reached him yet. He counted eleven men-at-arms, with more behind them. Clearly, someone wanted to be sure. Given the dead women, that same someone did not want to leave any witnesses.

Ewen ran around the table toward Sir Aeomund and slashed at the remaining man-at-arms engaged with his liegeman. The edge of his bastard sword nearly amputated the foe’s shield-arm, and that poor wretch let out a cry and crumpled to the ground like a rag. Ewen searched for the biggest enemy, and found him standing over the bloody bodies of the little dancing girls. He focused his will, striking out with his Deryni powers, and the big man’s head exploded in a shower of blood and brains.

“By the gods!” Aeomund exclaimed, as he had somehow realized that Ewen was responsible for the headless man. ‘That’s what he meant by nobody crosses me!’ he thought crazily as he fought on.
The attackers were stunned, and gaped as the headless corpse spurted blood into the air, marking the ceiling with gore, before twitching and falling to the ground.

Sirs Ewen, Baris, and Aeomund took the opportunity to retreat to the west wall, guarding each other’s flanks.

Meanwhile, just outside the gate, Tora jolted awake. She saw almost a dozen men running into the house. ‘Ambush!’ her mind screamed as adrenaline surged and she became instantly fully awake. Still hidden in the shadows, men rushing by her, Tora drew her sword.

***

Cekiya, perched atop the wall, watched in horror as almost an entire company of men poured into the building. She leaped to the ground, landing in a shadow silently. Though it pained her to leave Ewen behind, she knew they could not take all those men alone. Staying out of sight, the little adder ran towards Raven Hall to get help.

***

Baris, Ewen, and Aeomund had their backs against the wall. A dozen men-at-arms, recovering from the shock from Ewen’s mental attack, put their shields before them, gripped their swords tight, and advanced upon the trio of knights. Baris grinned and beckoned them on. Aeomund, eyes wide, wasn’t sure whom to fear more: the foes or his liege lord.

Ewen looked upon one of the other men-at-arms, the other who had killed the dancing girls, and that poor soul’s head burst open like a unripe melon hurled from above, blood and bits of skull and brains covering his compatriots.

“Foul sorcery!” one of the men-at-arms screamed and turned to run. “What eldritch terror is this?!” another yelled. The men-at-arms’s morale collapsed, and they panicked and began retreating.

“Come and die!” Baris yelled, and, sword held high, charged at a group of four men-at-arms. The panicked men tried to retreat, but were hampered by their numbers, as men ran every which way. Baris viciously slashed at a foe’s head. While the man blocked, the force of Baris’s strike shattered the shortsword.

“Varayne!” Aeomund yelled as he charged, striking a mighty blow and shattering the shield of his opponent. That man backpedaled and swung his shortsword back and forth, desperately trying to keep Aeomund at bay.

Ewen looked upon his fleeing foes, smiled, and charged after them, sword leading. A few moments later a head went sailing across the room, an expression of shock on its face as it saw its body trailing away into the distance.

Outside, Tora, sword drawn, stabbed a man-at-arms in the back. He staggered and fell, gagging as his blood filled his lungs. Two men-at-arms turned back to face Tora. The one on the left stabbed at her, but Tora caught the blade on her pommel and with a twist of her wrist sent the blade wide. She kicked her opponent back and slashed at the other, who ducked under the blade.

***

Cekiya burst into the door to Raven Hall. As it was late in the evening, no one was present. She rushed up the stairs yelling, “Danyes lies! Danyes lies!”

A startled Sir Rollard rushed out of his room. “What’s going on?”

“Danyes lies, you must get over there, men attacking!”

“Ah do believe you are sayin’ that Suh Ewen and his friends are in peril,” Rollard said. “To ahms, to ahms!” he yelled.

Rolloch, followed by his men, rushed down the stairs, swords drawn.” Where?!” Rolloch yelled.

Cekiya was already running back down the stairs, yelling back, “Follow!”

***

Sir Ewen chopped his blade straight down upon the head of his current opponent, rending the man’s skull. The poor sod had unfortunately lost his helmet somewhere in the confusion. The man kept his feet, but looked a little confused. This was understandable because a chunk of his skull missing, and blood and brains were leaking out.

Next to Ewen, Aeomund traded blows with his own opponent. Aeomund thrust and slashed, putting the man on the defensive and forcing him back. The foe slipped in some gore and threw back his shield-arm reflexively, giving Aeomund the opening he needed, and the knight slashed at a downwards angle, cutting the leg straight to the bone. The man screamed, and fell, blood spurting upon the floorboards.

“Haha!” Baris yelled in exultation, trading blows with two men-at-arms, but neither side was able to find an opening. His blade was dripping with blood and it thirsted for more.

Most of the attackers were attempting to flee, wisely not wishing to risk having their heads exploded or otherwise laid bare. Unfortunately, they were bunching up at the door as the collided with the other attackers still trying to enter the hall.

Outside, the sounds of panicked soldiers reached Tora and her opponent. That fool risked a glance behind to see what the commotion was about, and Tora quickly thrust her blade past his, stabbing him in the shoulder on his shield-arm. “It doesn’t sound like it’s going well for your friends!” Her foe tried to sidestep around Tora and flee through the gate. She took the opportunity to kick the man she had brought down earlier, who, still gagging on his own blood, was struggling to rise. Her boot crunched into the elbow of arm he was trying to use to support himself, and he yelped and stayed down.

Inside the hall, Sirs Ewen, Baris, and Aeomund advanced upon the mob that had been so foolish as to challenge the trio. Ewen looked upon one of the foes caught up in the door and unleashed a mental blast. His target staggered, as if he had been shoved. He tripped in the close quarters and his comrades trampled him. Ewen reached the crowd and struck another man with his blade, opening his back from kidney to kidney. The knight jumped back, avoiding most of a torrent of blood.

“Take this, and that!” Baris exclaimed, punctuating each of his slashes or thrusts. “Die scum!” Baris slashed at one of the men rushing out the door. The poor bastard must have lost his helmet during the jostle at the door, which is really something you should wear in a battle. The knight’s blade sliced off the top of his victim’s head, exposing his brain-matter.

Aeomund, not wanting to miss out of the fun, struck at one of the fleeing foes. That man must have had a sixth sense, because at the last moment he suddenly twisted around and battered the knight’s blade aside.

Outside, Cekiya was arriving at the gate, a group of men-at-arms in Ewen’s service at her back. She saw Tora engaged with two men. They had been attempting to retreat, but Tora was having none of that. The little adder leaped over the bodies next to Tora and stabbed one of the foes in the throat before he even knew she was there. The other man engaged with Tora glanced at the little slip who had killed his friend and growled.

“Up Sir Baris!” Tora yelled, shattering her opponent’s shield with a mighty blow.

Inside, Ewen was wielding his sword two-handed, slashing left and right, and an arm went flying. Aeomund’s foe’s luck ran out, as he dropped his sword fell to his knees, hands around his throat, blood gushing out from a mortal wound. They did not notice that one of the foes wounded earlier had slipped out the back door.

“Mercy, mercy!” one man yelled, and dropped his weapons. The remaining foes quickly followed suit.

Baris stalked over to the man who asked for mercy. “I’ll give you mercy,” he said, “the same mercy you gave those girls!” and he ran the man through.

Rolloch and his men-at-arms rushed in, swords drawn, but slowed to a halt when they saw the devastation wrought by the three knights, who were covered in blood and gore. A few moments later, Tora and Cekiya, apparently having dispatched their foe, rushed in.

“Take these four men into custody,” Ewen ordered, pointing his blade at the men who had surrendered. “And close the gate. Tora, check out the kitchen. Baris, Aeomund, with me.”

***

Tora went into kitchen, sword ready, but there was no one there. It had been abandoned – though she noted the food had not been left on the fire. She quickly looked under the tables and peeked into the pantry, but found no one. She finally found the servants, whom she noted were all male, cowering in a corner of the back yard.

“Where’s Kerl?” Tora demanded, pointing her sword at the servants.

“He left!” one of the servants exclaimed. “Gods, please don’t kill us!”

“Which way did he go?”

“We don’t know!” another servant wailed.

“Get inside!” Tora growled, pointing her sword at the door.

***

Meanwhile, Ewen, Baris, Aeomund, and a couple of Ewen’s men-at-arms were gathered before the door where Danyes had fled.

“It’s locked,” one of the men reported, shaking the knob for emphasis.

“Sir Baris?” Ewen indicated the door with a nod.

Baris grinned. The men-at-arms moved knowingly out of the way. The knight charged the door at full speed, throwing all of his weight and strength at it. The stout wood quivered for but a second before giving way. The knight plowed into the room and swung his sword about to frighten off any enemies who might have been hiding behind the door.

While there was no one inside, the room was far from empty. It was furnished with chairs and something resembling a bed, along with other pieces of furniture on whose purpose Baris did not want to speculate, as their purpose was beyond his imagination. A fur rug covered the middle of the floor. There were no other exits, and the windows were barred.

“Just a moment,” Ewen said. He placed his right hand to his temple and stretched his mind out into the ether, seeking the soul of Sir Danyes Bernan. He saw, through Danyes’s eyes, a large familiar-looking hall, but he could not place it. “He’s in a great hall somewhere – he can’t have gone far!”

While Ewen had been entranced, Baris had gone straight for the rug and, pulling it back, revealed a trap door.

Aeomund leaped past Baris, “I got it!” and opened the trapdoor, revealing a shaft leading down into the darkness. Iron rungs set into the wall along one side provided a ladder. “Let’s clear the rest of the house before we go down the trapdoor,” Aeomund suggested.

“Agreed.” Ewen said.

“I’ll go!” Baris said before Aeomund could speak up, and he and a few men-at-arms rushed off. The search of the upstairs revealed little of interest. The first dancer, dreadfully frightened, was hiding in a closet, but no one else was present, not even servants. In Danyes’s study was a lockbox with surprisingly little money inside.

By the time Baris returned from upstairs, Tora was back. “Let me look at your arm, Sir Baris.” Baris reluctantly submitted to her ministrations. The woman expertly bound his wounds. “This is nothing, Sir Baris.”

“Baris, I see that you are wounded, you need to take better care of yourself,” Aeomund teased.

Baris grinned. “Tis but a scratch.”

While Baris was being tended to, Ewen saw to the interrogation of the prisoners. He grabbed one of the attackers by the neck and forced himself into the other’s mind, trying to learn who had sent them. In the other man’s mind he saw that the orders had been to put all in the house to the sword, and they had come directly from the prisoner’s liege lord, the Baron of Kolorn. Oddly, there had not been a specific target; the prisoner had not known that Ewen was there.

Satisfied he had learned all he could, Ewen solved the prisoner’s dilemma. “Kill them.”

“Are you sure?” Aeomund asked.

Ewen smiled the same smile he had given Aeomund that morning. “I’m sure.”

“No! No! Gods! Mercy!” the prisoners screamed as, one by one, they were run through by Ewen’s men. They were much quieter after that. Altogether, there were nineteen dead soldiers.

“This may not be the only attack planned for tonight. Rolloch, take your men back to Raven Hall and bolster the defenses. And send word to Dickon House.” Ewen paused. “You should know that Kolorn was the instigator of this attack, to be watchful.”

“Tora, go with them,” Baris ordered. The woman nodded and fell in with Rolloch’s men.

“Your will be done, my lord,” Rolloch replied. “Thirds, to me!” The men marched off into the night.

***

“Dark,” Cekiya said.

She was waiting in the tunnel below Danyes’s home at the bottom of the ladder as Ewen, Baris and Aeomund climbed down.

“Perhaps we should get torch,” Aeomund began as he stepped off the ladder, but at that moment blue fire appeared in Ewen’s palm, illuminating the tunnel. Aeomund blinked, but he was becoming used to such things. Tora was right. Things were never dull when Ewen and Baris were around!

The flickering blue light of Ewen’s hand fire revealed a small tunnel that ran roughly north by northwest. Closer to the trapdoor the walls were made of stone, but further on the walls were packed earth held up with posts and beams. The four, three knights and one adder, marched into the darkness.

The tunnel ran for roughly twenty feet, ending at a shaft going up, another ladder on the wall. Cekiya climbed up the ladder, opened the trapdoor at top, and found herself in the backyard of Danyes’s compound. The trap door was next to a tree, and had been hidden by sticks and underbrush.

Cekiya emerged first, and wondered how Danyes had Kurl had evaded her watchful eye. Baris, followed by Ewen and then Aeomund followed her out from the trapdoor. Ewen had extinguished his handfire and they went back inside and stood amongst the bodies of the slain. The air smelled of shit and coppery blood.

“What now?” Baris asked. “You said Kolorn was involved, that snake!”

“I did, but … ” Ewen began.

“We should go after him right now, and demand an explanation – let’s see what he says with a sword in his face! Or we could go to the King … ”

“We have no proof!” Ewen argued.

Baris growled in frustration. “What about sending Kolorn a present then, a head or two in a bloody box!”

Ewen shook his head.

Baris was frustrated, and incensed. “Wasn’t it just yesterday that that two-faced bastard was proposing an alliance?”

“That’s the strange thing, I do not believe Kolorn directly targeted us. The orders the man was given were, ‘kill all inside,’ not ‘kill everyone, especially Ewen and Baris.”

Ewen shook his head. “Unless something changed since our meeting at Galopea’s Feast and today, I do not think we were the target. Although it is possible that Kolorn did target us, he just did not tell his men,” Ewen thought aloud. “That could mean that he knows about my powers, and wanted to keep us guessing about his motives. Alternatively, if he planned this attack the whole time, he can block truth reading. That is even more worrisome. And all the more reason we should not rush to confront him.”

“But … ” Baris began.

“We do nothing more tonight,” Ewen ordered, and Baris was silent. “Let’s leave the bodies where they are, close the doors, and return to Raven Hall. I think we could all do with a bath.”

***

Later, there was a pounding at the door to Raven Hall. Kaelyn went to the door and opened it, finding a closed and sealed envelope. The wizard was still up, frustrated by her failed attempt to scry, she was studying a new spell. There was some odd writing on the envelope. Taking it over to her candle, she noticed strange runes in the flickering light but could not read them. They looked familiar, like the ones she had seen on the scroll in Bejist.

“It’s for me!” Cekiya exclaimed from behind Kaelyn, and she snatched the letter from the startled wizard’s hands. “I never get mail,” she murmured.

“What’s going on?!” Baris asked, rushing into the room, sword drawn. He was clad only in a towel, which was slipping. Blood was still caked in his hair. “I heard pounding.” Ewen and Aeomund were behind him, similarly clad.

“Cekiya got a letter,” Kaelyn said, and returned to her book.

Cekiya produced a stiletto from somewhere on her person and opened the envelope. She took the letter out and as she read, her eyes widened. She put one finger to her lip and looked thoughtful.

“Cekiya dear, we are waiting,” Ewen said.

“We are safe right now, Sir Ewen,” Cekiya said cryptically, and left the room.

Ewen blinked. Cekiya had never hidden information from him, as far as he knew.

“Sir Ewen, what do you want to do?” Aeomund asked. “Do we fortify the manor?”

“We’ve already sent word to Dickon, and they will be here soon.”

At that moment, there was another knock on the door. The men from Dickon House arrived, and took up posts at Raven Hall.

***

Later in the evening, Ewen attempted to clairvoy Danyes once more, to get a better idea of where the man was hiding. It had been a long night, and Ewen was exhausted, and unfortunately he could not forge a connection to the mind of his enemy. Just as he thought he was getting close, Cekiya knocked on the door.

“Sir Ewen! I have to tell you something important about that letter!”

Ewen waved her in, resigned to one last task in a very long night.

Larane 4, 732
Kaldor, Tashal
Raven Hall


“Sir Herrill Lavalgan, Lord of Selepan, has taken his own life, my lord,” the messenger reported. Early in the morning on the fourth a horseman had arrived from Inbernel, bearing a message from Sir Grogan.

“When did this happen?” Ewen asked, his mind racing. Could this have something do with the attack last night?

“A few days ago, my lord.”

“Did he leave a note?” Kaelyn wondered.

“No lady, he did not,” the horseman stated.

“I am dismayed,” Ewen said, trying to drudge up the proper amount of emotion. “Are you aware of any of the details?”

“Yes my lord,” the horseman said. “It’s not – we don’t know why he did it, although it might have been because of the death of the baby … ”

“I’m so sorry!” Kaelyn exclaimed.

“The nursemaid apparently took the baby up to the watchtower and hurled – they both jumped!” the horseman continued. “Afterwards, apparently Sir Herrill climbed the watchtower himself, dismissed the watchman, somehow fashioned a rope, put it around his neck, and hanged himself.” He sighed, and seemed to get a hold of himself. “This was two days ago. Sir Grogan knew you would want to know this immediately, as Selepan has now fallen vacant. He has sent his son, Sir Sedris to act as bailiff on a temporary basis, but wishes to know your will in the matter milord.”

Ewen considered this. Because the deceased had been holding the fief from Inbernel, and therefore Sir Ewen, and because the baby had also died there was no heir, thus it escheated to him. He could grant it to a knight, he mused.

“Good work, my good man. Rest well, and I will give your news some thought.”

“Thank you milord, I await your pleasure.”

***

“Sir Baris, you have been like a right arm to me for these past several years.”

Baris nodded. Ewen had summoned Baris to his study, and the two were seated across from each other. “Thank you, Sir Ewen, it has been a pleasure fighting by your side.”

“After much thought, and in reward for your excellent service, I have decided to grant you the manor of Selepan in fee simple to myself. In practice, this means Selepan will remain subinfeudated to Inbernel, but you will serve as my direct vassal. Its feudal obligation will remain intact.”

Baris’s spirits rose. He opened his mouth to speak, but his thoughts were rushing too fast. Land! His lifelong dream! This way why, on the advice of Sir Tovar Delwen, he had joined Ewen’s company so long ago, boldly taking a seat at his table at the Bridgewater Inn back in Golotha. Of course, in those days he thought that Bevan Palliser was the one running the show.

So much had happened since then. Now Ewen and Baris were involved in a plot to overthrow the Kingdom of Kaldor. Baris had been confusticated of late. On the one hand, he knew that the armies of Kaldor were his enemies, and it was good that they were weakened during the Viking invasion. That was why Ewen had maneuvered himself into the vanguard, after all, to use his influence to cause the most damage. But on the other hand, Baris had marched and fought beside those same men, become friends with them. And Brandis was a good man, a fine example of what a lord should be.

With Ewen as his liege lord, Baris would have to do what he said. There would be no more room for doubts.

Ewen was looking at Baris expectantly. Baris took a deep breath and made his decision. He thought back to his days in Melderyn, the lessons his tutor had given him about lordly customs.

Sir Baris knelt in front of Sir Ewen and gave the other man his hands, thereby rendering homage to Sir Ewen for Selepan. “I, Baris Tyrestal, knight, in thy presence do render fealty and homage for the honor of Selepan as I ought do. I swear upon all the gods that I shall always be a faithful vassal to thee and thy successors, that I shall come to thine aid and succor in need, and shall be thy liegeman in peace and in war. Ever shall I bear true allegiance to thee.”

“I receive thy homage Sir Baris, and will be a lord good and true,” Ewen intoned.

“I will not fail you, Sir Ewen.” Baris promised.

And just like that, Sir Baris was no longer a landless knight-bachelor: he now had the pleasures and duties of the rank of a knight banneret. He stood and straightened up, put his shoulders back, and held his head high. He was overcome with emotion. “Thank you Sir Ewen, thank you!”

Ewen merely clasped Baris’s hand, and then dismissed his vassal for he still had much to ponder.

***

“May I be forward Sir Ewen?” Dickon asked.

Ewen and Dickon were walking to Hag Hall. Given the events of the previous night, Dickon was escorting the knight. “You may speak freely,” Ewen confirmed.

“The men-at-arms you sent only said you had been attacked, and that there had been great loss of life on the other side. Pleased to hear that. I understand if you cannot, but might I ask what exactly happened, milord?”

“You know I have my methods of gathering information. They tell me that the men who attacked us last night were sent by the Baron of Kolorn to slay everyone in that house. However I do not know whether the Baron himself is ultimately behind this, or if his liege lord my father-in-law might be.” Ewen stroked his chin. “I suspect my father-in-law’s hand.”

Dickon was silent for a number of steps. His thinking was slow and methodical. “You no doubt know better than I. But I am pleased to know where at least to keep an eye.”

***

Ewen and Rahel were once again in rapport, sharing information with their minds far more quickly than they could with words. Through Ewen’s memories, Rahel watched the battle intently – twice.

“Who is this Sir Aeomund, and could he be involved?” Rahel wondered.

“Aeomund was thrust upon me, as it were. By Sir Houla Artona, who disclosed the fact that Sir Aeomund was pledged to the Lord of Varayne, and having been away in crusades, was unaware that title was passed to me.”

“The Serekela couldn’t have foreseen how events would play out,” Rahel agreed. “It would have been a very far-fetched plot.”

“Your supposition that the Baron of Kolorn might be an innocent tool is reasonable,” Rahel said, getting back to the matter at hand. “I too think your father-in-law has more reason to wish you dead that the shaky new Baron. There are other candidates, certainly, but Vemion is the most prominent. If this is so, he is almost certainly in Tashal. The time lag alone would have prevented any such plot from being hatched quickly. If he’s in Tashal, he must have presented himself to the King. He would presently be in residence at either Caldeth House or the Castle.”

“Or Osel house perhaps,” Ewen mused. “Interesting.”

“Well, it is Larane, and all the lords are bringing their feudal payments. Normally they would be at Olokand, but since that is not happening this year, they are coming to Tashal instead. That would include all the earls, except very likely Brandis, of course.”

“Now, as for the activities of the church,” Ewen said, changing the subject.

“Larani or the other one?”

“The other one.”

“Oh yes, an interesting development that. Three days. All he has to do is steer clear of her for three days. This he will almost certainly do. Yet, still may she find him …”

“And he me,” Ewen said.

“Yes, but only if she fails,” Rahel agreed. “It would be better not to wait, for now you know when he is not going to strike.”

“And what do you think might lie behind the pledge?” Ewen asked. “Whose hand guides this?”

“It is an unusual approach,” Rahel said. “It suggests that the hand that wields the knife is unsure of the commission – leaving it to divine choice. Whose hand lies behind the assassin’s could be almost anyone. It could be a back up plan to the attack that just took place, or be unrelated. Considering the time of the month, it could be the will of the Unseen Lifter directly. This is an unlooked for development,” Rahel said, “but one I do not believe we can head off. He would almost have to have consulted with his superiors before attempting it.”

“As you say, sister, it would be best to find this man, if possible,” Ewen said, clearly worried about the assassin hot on his trail.

“Nearly twelve hours of the day have already elapsed.”

“Yes, they have,” Ewen agreed.

“He would have to watch, and wait, but stay out of sight,” Rahel said. “Cekiya of course knows what he looks like.”

“Yes, but obviously I cannot clairvoy this man, not having met him.”

“And I suspect that would not work,” Rahel stated. “There are other forces at play. But it would help for you and others whom you choose to know for whom to be on the lookout.”

“I could brief Cekiya.”

“And impart that information how you choose.” Rahel paused. “I suspect she will not stray far from you.”

“I have respect for the abilities of the little adder, but I’m sure her foe is formidable.”

“He would not have taunted her so if he were not,” Rahel agreed.

“Of course.”

“But I stress that I believe that this Herth-Akan stems from his doubts, and not from any sense of fair play or a desire to warn you.”

“He fears the consequences of acting on his commission,” Ewen said in understanding.

“He must have realized Cekiya had been set to guard you from the same power that his commission comes from. Those charges are in conflict, and he can only resolve them in this manner. Whichever winner emerges, the will of his god will be clear to him, and he can then act. Or he could be dead. He is no doubt prepared for that.” Rahel sighed. “There is one other thing, brother. Cekiya too will have to abide by the outcome. If he eludes her for the full seventy-two hours, she will almost certainly step aside and let him fulfill his mission.”

“I understand.”

“Of course, were you to survive the attempt, no doubt she would fall back in line for that would be the will of the deity manifest.”

“I understand the three days of the Herth-Akan. Does the assassination commission have a timeframe he must comply with?”

“Probably not, it seems to have originated from the outside the followers of that religion. If it had originated from the inside it would be thirty days.”

***

Later that afternoon, in his study, Ewen briefed the rest of the party on the situation.

“An assassin has been commissioned to kill me,” Ewen said. This came as no surprise, as Ewen had many enemies. They had faced the forces of one the night before. “This assassin is also aware that Cekiya protects me. He wonders whether fate will smile upon this act, and so he has set up a test with Cekiya. The two will chase each other through the city for seventy-two hours. She will attempt to find him, and kill him. If he escapes, she will step aside.”

Ewen paused, and looked at his friends, holding out the letter. “Whoever wins will determine whether this unseen lifter of lives smiles upon my assassination.”

Dranatha Cekiya - I have been tasked with the death of your master Ewen. This task I take seriously. Yet, it is unclear to me the desire of the Unseen Lifter of Lives. Thus I propose a personal Herth-Akan between us. I shall take no action against Ewen Ravinargh for three days. If you choose to spend those three days within Raven Hall, I shall take that as your acquiescence in the assassination of Ewen. If, on the other hand, you spend it outside of Raven Hall, then I will assume your defiance. In any event, Ewen is safe for those three days as is any in Raven Hall. The entire city of Tashal is the field of our Herth-Akan. Only one of us can emerge from this test. If I win, then your master Ewen is dead. If you succeed, then I perish. We knew it might come to this when we were both adranantha. Longhals.
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