Session One Hundred Thirty-One - August 6, 2016

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

Session One Hundred Thirty-One - August 6, 2016

Postby Matt » Wed Sep 14, 2016 9:12 pm

Azura 26, 732

Kaelyn of Aletta’s last morning at Raven Hall was a warm, sunny one. She spent it packing, sending a letter to Garth informing him of her departure, and engaging her successor Arva in advice: watch out for owls and Sir Baris’s plodding clumsiness. Through the window they noticed Cekiya coming back in from the street. The little adder had gone out to the Hive to return the collar, and had remained to spend the night immersed in the unspeakable.

Lord Ewen, facing his wardrobe, was unsure whether to dress for a noble council or a hanging. After the previous day’s hasty dispatch of Maldan Harabor, it was impossible to tell what might happen. He, Goreg, and Sir Baris left for the castle an hour short of noon. They were stopped at the gate.

“Begging your pardon, milord, but if you could leave your sword on the rack there. The other gentlemen’s as well.”

This was new. The three surrendered their weapons to a weedy looking clerk, who tagged each one with their names. Ewen recognized the blades of many of his fellow tenants-in-chief already hanging there. They were allowed to keep their daggers, at least.

Upstairs in the throne room milled a crowd of notables and retainers. Ewen saw the Archbishop, Sir Gorbar, and Sir Arlbis, but not Lord Balim nor Meden Curo. When he spotted Orsin and Prehil Firith, he moved to greet them.

“Ewen!” said Prehil. “Another day! Head still on?” For his part, Orsin merely grunted “Ternua.”

“Ewen, the council chamber is locked,” said Prehil.

“Yes, they appear to be observing a higher degree of security after yesterday. I had to surrender my blade at the gate”

“As did we all. Except for my father.”

“They probably think I can’t use a sword with one eye,” said Orsin cagily.

“My lord of Kobe, do you expect another eventful day?”

“I hope not. Not sure what to expect. No sign of the Queen, Balim, or anybody else. Bishop Dariune and the Archbishop are engaged in some kind of theological discourse over there.”

“Such things best left to better minds than ours.”

“Certainly different minds.”

They, and the room, continued in general conversation until Harapa Indama finally appeared and rapped his staff of office upon the flagstones.

“Milords, pray attend the Queen’s Grace!”

Hesena entered the room, inclined her head to the assembly, and took her rightful place on the queenly throne. Once she was seated, Lord Balim slipped into the chamber, followed some moments later by Meden Curo & his brother Kytem.

The Queen addressed the assemblage, and her speech was notable solely for not containing anything worth speaking of. She did not mention anything of the late Maldan Harabor, or of new power arrangements, only general boilerplate about the happiness of the realm. Ewen got the impression she was feeling her way about the reins of power.

Then she said “Lord Marshal?”

Orsin Firith bowed “Milady.”

“It is our understanding that the keep of Heru is held by the forces of the traitor Harabor.”

“It is indeed.”

“As Lord Marshal, we charge you to set forth and take custody of said fortress into our hands.”

For a moment, the Baron of Kobe’s eye got very large.

“Your grace, are you asking me to take the castle by force?”

“It is to be hoped that will not be necessary, but we do not rule it out.”

“May I ask what forces are at my disposal?”

“I’m sure your own will be adequate.”

“Well, your grace, there’s adequate and there’s adequate. I do not possess such force in the capital to besiege so strong a fort.”

The queen considered this and said “Milord of Balim, would you be willing to contribute troops to this noble effort?”

“I would indeed,” said Balim.

“There, Lord Firith. That should double your forces.”

“More adequate, your grace, but still insufficient to take the castle. Especially with winter coming on. The casualities could be extreme.”

“Define ‘extreme’.”

“Possibly more than half our force.”

“I don’t find that extreme at all. But if you needed more …” and her eyes fell on Lord Ewen, “perhaps milord of Ternua could contribute.”

Ewen bowed. “Your grace, the men of Ternua stand ready to defend the crown.”

Orsin shuffled a bit. “Your grace, while we must commend Lord Ternua for stepping forward, I must point out that none of his forces are in Tashal.”

“Is this true?” said the queen.

“It is,” Ewen said. “If it please your grace, it also occurs to me that it may be in the Crown’s interests to avoid the other forces of the traitor conjoining with those in Heru by coming up from Qualdris. We also stand ready to defend the south.”

“That seems strategically sound to me, Lord Firith.”

“Very sound, your grace.”

“Well, then obviously Lord Ternua cannot be expected to contribute any more. And we can’t strip the army of Chelmarch. The Royal Guard is needed here. The Order of the Lady of Paladins is battered beyond recognition. Perhaps there may be some small number of troops of Semethshire. Would that be adequate?”

Orsin was visibly vexed, but kept his tone polite. “Indeed, milady. That shall be adequate.” He bowed stiffly and withdrew.

There was a moment of awkwardness, until the Queen broke it by saying “Sir Meden Curo?”

Curo stepped forward. “Your grace,” he said.

“It is our desire, Sir Meden, that our right trusty and well-beloved son return to court.”

“Your grace?”

“I wish you to take a small force to Olokand and escort Prince Brandis back to Tashal.”

Meden bowed. “Your grace, if it please your grace, I shall personally attend to this matter.”

“I believe that’s what I said, Sir Meden. Do so.”

Meden smiled his Meden smile. “Your grace,” bowed again, and left.

Some minor further business was dispensed with, and the council ended. The Queen, accompanied by Lord Balim, left quickly. As Ewen made his own way to the gate, he found Orsin Firith.

“Ewen, I’d be happy to have your sword alongside mine, but I understand if you want to ride south and take personal charge there.”

They discussed the situation. Orsin, along with whatever troops he could round up, planned to march on the 28th, two days from then. He had most of the troops at hand, save the small Semethshire contingent. He was in no hurry. Ewen doubted they would be arriving at Heru before the 30th.

“Lord Firith, I plan to check in at Ternua and muster whatever troops I can there. As soon as possible, I will bring my army to join you at Heru.”

“Understandable! It’s always better to be late to the party than not to come at all.”


Azura 27, 732

The weather continued to be too pleasant for Harn, but the sunshine could not conceal how little there was of it. The days were now only ten hours of light. Leaving right at dawn, Lord Ewen and his retinue barely reached Ternua by dusk. Kaelyn and the escort Ewen had hired for her accompanied them.

Outside the keep were great mounds of logs, over which crawled dozens of workmen, hewing and shaping them. Aeomund had been hard at work, leading the process of fortification. He was absent, in search of old growth forests, but Ewen’s other officers were still present. He sent word to Elena to notify Thilisa of his arrival, and ask for her company at a light dinner in the council chamber that evening.

Sir Dickon reported all was well, and quiet. He stated he did his best to meet with Thilisa once a day – and only once a day. Her present predicament seemed to take up most of her attention.

The troops of Ternua were encamped mainly in tents around the keep. The knights had managed to claim rooms here and there, but most were still sleeping in the Great Hall. The great Verdreth wine cellar was almost empty.

The moment could be put off no longer. Ewen girded his loins and went to see his wife.

“Well, here you are at last!”

“I hope I find you well, dear wife.”

“As well as anyone in my situation could be.” She gazed ruefully at her own belly.

And she’s only halfway through, Ewen thought. “I trust you found the keep to be secure, my lady Baroness.”

That distracted her. “Oh, that’s right. You finagled an actual peerage.”

“I told you I would.”

“It’s the least you could have done. I suppose we will have to wait until my father’s long overdue demise for me to receive my due.”

“Indeed. We have heard very little from Vemion this last month.”

“The earldom of Vemion remains unrepresented on the council?”

Ewen informed her of the dramatic events of recent days. When he got to the Tale of the Strawberries, she smirked and insisted he retell it in lingering detail.

“That upstart crow!” she exclaimed in delight at Harabor’s downfall.

Ewen continued. “The Lord Marshal has been tasked with bringing to account Sir Kornuska in Heru keep. I have committed to the Lord Marshal that we here at Ternua will make sure no troops from Qualdris cross the bridge to aid them.”

Thilisa grew thoughtful. “To that end, I have been engaged in a bit of a letter campaign. I have written to several of my former vassals, urging them to pay close attention to their harvest. It would be terrible if Mirild couldn’t even raise enough forces to take down a hayrick.”

“I like your train of thought, milady.”

“It may do nothing. Worth a try, only costs some paper and ink. Rollard is off delivering them.”

“I think you are wise to the use the esteem in which you are held in this kingdom to further our joint enterprise. We should do more.”

“I agree. Speaking of the Lord Marshal: that office is long overdue in coming to Orsin Firith. We must do all we can to keep him as an ally.”

“That relationship is sound. I anticipate no difficulty in the future between ourselves and Lord Orsin.”

“I am glad to hear it. You have left a great deal of resources unprotected in Tashal – or at least minimally protected.”

“Yes.” There was no use denying it.


“I know you took much of my treasure into your custody. But it is not here. Is it safe?”

“It is safe. It was used to some small degree to further our enterprise. I should mention that considerable loot formerly in the possession of the Verdreths is secured here.”

“Good. I had asked your man that and he affected not to know anything.”

“Have you reason to be discontented with Dickon?”

“… I am sure his sword is sharp.”

“He is competent. And Gatanis Nildar – he should be here by now.”

“Yes. Weasely little man. I don’t like him. He presented himself to me. I told him to go about his business. Haven’t seen him since.”

“I shall exact a report from him. I assume he has taken further stock of the resources of the barony, so that we are well positioned to make use of it.”

Thilisa pointed to the cubbyholes on the far side of the room. “There are some papers missing from there.”

“I’ll be sure he returns them. He, I think, understands he needs to give satisfaction in this new position.”

“The lot of all in his position. Now, I am fatigued. You will help me upstairs. I find the warren that is this keep a travail. In some ways more conformable than Qualdris, but not easy to get around. Further, once my ladies have prepared me for the evening, you shall join me and attend me as a husband should. We have a pack of knights wandering around and we must look the loving couple.”

“Milady Baroness, I feel we are the very thing.”


Azura 28, 732

Statecraft rests on many pillars: rhetoric, combat, conspiracy, diplomacy, leadership, and, in the version practiced by Lord Ewen Ravinargh, magic. But all of these rest in turn on a foundation of arithmetic. Without counting – counting of coats of mail, fours of horseshoes, bushels of barley, dozens of pence – all the rest are useless. And so, on this average, overcast Harnic day, Lord Ewen bent himself to the yoke of numbers.

The harvest would begin in about five days. The local produce would start to move about the kingdom about a week after that. Grain would flood into Ternua and other feudal centers from the surrounding countryside, where it would be kept for the lord’s purposes or sold to the mercantylers now gadding about the land. As the harvest turned into cash, Ewen would begin to receive his feudal dues from his vassals, which would in turn allow him to pay his feudal dues to the crown. After collecting all revenue from his manors, vassals, and the lucrative toll over the Nephen bridge, and paying all his expenses and maintenance, Lord Ewen looked, in an ordinary year, to clear £1,037.

But this was nothing like an ordinary year. Ewen had forces to feed and pay, and more to recruit. He knew he had to silo at least £200 worth of grain to feed his men. But he also needed every last penny, as the upkeep on the Thardan lads alone came to 21,526d. 1000 pence per man per year, 20,000 per company with all expenses—he could feel the money draining out of his purse.

His forces here at Ternua were considerable, but most would be going home soon, their terms up. The winter levies would come on to replace them, but naturally winter levies were smaller, because warfare was supposed to be a warm-weather sport. Most of his current troops were noblemen or the upper yeomanry, the kind who did not work in the fields. If he were to call out a general levy of yeomen, a percentage of them would be field workers – at a time when every man capable of carrying a sickle was needed for the harvest. More corn, fewer soldiers; more soldiers, less corn – and he needed both, in as great a quantity as he could lay his hands on.

Ewen sighed and consulted the service lists. On the 31st, 5 knights and 10 footmen would appear at Ternua for winter service, led by Sir Olamund Arwat. Ewen had killed one member of the Arwat clan in tournament, then another one when the man had besmirched Thilisa. Oh, and there had been a third one in there somewhere, hadn’t there? He wondered how jaundiced a view Sir Olamund held of his new baron.

Lord Graver needed to cough up some more companies. Ewen expected the man to produce two at most.

The chief of his light horse troop appeared in the doorway, accompanied by Gatanis Nildar. “Milord, you had a mission for us?”

“Yes. I want your men to patrol the southern approaches for any signs of Harabor men. Go as far as … Gatanis, what’s the manor at the crossroads?”

“Eliten, milord. Held by Mikaes Larquste from the King.”

“Is there sufficient lodging there?”

“Yes, milord. The Inn of Smiling Boar. Should be about 30d a night, I expect.”

“Good. Write up a letter commandeering that inn for the Crown’s business, and get them the coin. If the light horse sees anything, they should ride back to the keep at once and raise the alarm. If nothing happens, return two weeks from now.”

“One question, Lord Ewen: Will your squire be accompanying us?”

“No.”

“Very good, milord!”

The horsemen rode out within the hour.

That afternoon, Ewen addressed the knights of the Barony of Ternua. His speech was emphatic, but a bit high-flown for his audience. In the end, they seemed to like it. Sir Dickon immediately followed up with emphasis on the key point: that the Crown was depending on them to defend the Nephen bridge. This brought a great shout of acclaim. Ewen was sure he had their allegiance.


Afterwards, Ewen was approached by one of the knights. He recognized the arms of Sir Baran Meleken, Baliff of Mossen manor.

“Milord, well met.”

“Sir Baran, I trust you are well.”

“As well as fortune’s wheel permits me to be.”

“We are in a very changeable time. The wheel turns, and there is always tomorrow”

“You will forgive me for saying so, milord, but I do recall that you championed my cause before the King. But that, sir, is water under the bridge.”

“Precisely.”

“However, it is my understanding that the usurping traitor, Maldan Harabor, quondam Earl of Osel, is now dead. Died a well-deserved traitor’s death. It seems to me that the earldom of Osel, properly belonging to the Meleken family, should be restored.”

“Sir Baran, I think you arguably have a case there. As I recall, the late Lord Maldan called into question the validity of some ancient documents or codicils.”

“Legal trickery, milord.”

“That sounds familiar. I confess as a simple knight, I don’t appreciate all the ins and outs.”

“Nor do I. I, too, am but a simple knight. Justice is justice. By the strict and blinkered interpretation of words on paper, my family was dispossessed. But it can yet be rectified. I have spoken with the Lady Thilisa. She has assured me that she will follow your lead in this matter, but she hopes I will receive my due. I pledge to you, my lord, my sword, my strength, my very life, in your service.”

“Well said, Sir Baran.”

“But I must also tell you: I intend to pursue what is rightfully mine.”

“And in doing so, I shall not stand in your way, and may give thought to supporting your second attempt.”

“If that were so, you would find me and my entire clan steadfast supporters and allies.”

“It is my opinion, Sir Baran, that you would be a much more suitable occupant of the earldom than the offspring of the late earl.”

“That, milord, I cannot argue.”

“I shall consider your situation, and shall look for an opportunity when in council to advance your pursuit of your rightful place.”

“And in turn, my lord, if there is anything you need of me, please, but ask.”

“Thank you, Sir Baran. These are fraught times, and the opportunity to call on you may yet arise.”

“Fortune’s wheel favors the bold.”

“I have always subscribed to that philosophy.”

The smiling Sir Baran bowed and departed.

Sir Ewen next found himself in conversation with Sir Ambric Pulgarty, the acting spokesman for the Ternua knights.

“Much has happened over the last several months, Sir Ambric.”

“It is enough to make a man’s head spin, milord. I shall be returning to Galven the day after tomorrow. Sir Ritzar Martaryne shall be arriving for service. He has tended, in the past, to be among the more forward of the knights of this barony. He is lord of Rudwyn. His brother there, Sir Aspin, has served at this time.”

“I thought Sir Aspin was the holder of Rudwyn. What is the nature of the situation?”

“Well, Sir Aspin does manage the day-to-day affairs of Rudwyn. Sir Ritzar concerns himself with … um … other matters.”

“He is the junior of the brothers?”

“No, the senior. The Black Lord of Rudwyn, he is known. He has not been in residence lately. He divides his time between Rudwyn, Tashal, and many bedchambers in between.”

“Sowing his seeds, as it were.”

“Strewing far and wide. When the Black Lord visits, one locks up one’s wife.”

“You referred to him as ‘forward,’ Sir Ambric.”

“Yes, milord. A deadly swordsman.”

“I’m glad to have such a man in my service. I gather from your circumspect remarks, that it might be wise for me to meet Sir Ritzar and take his measure.”

“I imagine you would, milord, but it is not my place to say.”

“I appreciate the information. My wife and Sir Dickon here have both reported satisfaction with how the barony is settling down after recent ructions”

Sir Aspin looked confused. “Milord, it is not for us to determine the pleasure of the monarch. As long as we are secure in our land and our chattels, our loyalty shall be to the baron of Ternua, whomsoever that may be.”

“That attitude is sound, Sir Ambric, and I shall depend on you and the other knights to see to your homes and hearths, and that no force unfriendly shall pass. In the meantime, the Lord Marshal requires me to accompany him in a disciplinary matter. I shall return once that duty is done. I have high confidence that you and the other knights of Ternua shall ensure no traitors shall pass through these lands. If such duty shall interfere with the harvest, I shall ensure that compensation will be made for whatever is lost.”

“One other thing, milord: will there be winter court?”

“Here at Ternua?”

“Has no one mentioned this to you?”

“What has been the custom?”

“In mid-Savor, the baron always held a great feast, lasting several days, at least three, for all the knights and their ladies of the barony, and any such who happened to be passing through. The peasantry have their harvest fest, and this is the nobles’, if you will. Many will be expecting it, and be disappointed if it does not occur.”

“I appreciate your alerting me.”

“Of course. I regret my great-uncle neglected to inform you. In confidence, milord … you are not his favorite baron.”

“That’s only understandable. He has his pride.”

“If, milord, you were to send your word to the steward, I would see to it that my uncle told him everything he needs to know.”

“I hope in time these wounds might pass.”

“They might pass more quickly if my uncle were given some recognition of his many years of service to this barony. A pension of sorts.”

“I appreciate your frankness, Sir Ambric.”

Having settled the vassals of his new barony, Lord Ewen ran down his mental to-do list. One item stuck out as able to be performed by someone other than himself.

“Sir Baris?”

“Yes?”

“Go and find me Blaka Pulgarty. We need to discuss hiring his troops.”


Baris considered his options. As always, the first step was to visit an inn. Such places were natural epicenters of activity, and it had the added benefit of being fun. Ternua held three inns: The Nephen Bridge Inn (owned and operated by a member of the Harabor clan), the Horn & Kettle, where Baris had once had a memorable drinking session with one Elmund of Sagasto, a physician, and the Pit, a dark basement where men went to obliviate themselves with the dreaded Ichor of Agrik, like ale mixed with dead men’s ashes.

Baris resolved to try the Horn & Kettle first.

“Arva, we’re going out drinking! Wanna come?”

“Sure!”

When the knight and Arva, accompanied by Goreg, arrived at the tavern, they found Elmund of Sagasto drinking there, as if he had not left since Baris’s last visit.

“Ah, my good doctor! It is I, Sir Baris!”

“Oh, I remember you! You’re the actor who thinks he’s a knight.”

“That’s me!”

“Are you putting on another performance?”

“Just passing through.”

“You were passing through last time and that was like a month and half ago.”

“Passing back!”

“That makes sense. If you’re passing back, you must be parched.”

“Yup!”

“And if you’re parched, there’s only one solution.”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“SIXTETH!” said Elmund. “A round for my friends – some of whom I’ve never met. On my friends!”

Baris made introductions. Elmund took one look at Arva and said “And what are you pretending to be?”

“I pretend to be nothing more than what I am.”

“She taught me a great lesson of acting,” said Baris. “Acting is acting like you’re not acting.”

“That’s how I practice medicine!” said Elmund. Then he said something in a strange, unknown, language, as if taunting the group.

“I’m actually studying for a part,” Baris said.

“Are you? You’re an industrious fellow. Where do you find the energy?”

“Alcohol, of course!”

“It doesn’t give me energy. Enlighten me, O Sage of the Stage.”

“What you gotta do is give up on water. People say you’re supposed to drink water, but they’re wrong.”

“Water is filled with little floaty things. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m studying to be a man who fights for money – what do you call them? Mercenary!”

“Yes!”

“Wasn’t there a guy here who does that? Blaka?”

“Oh, yes. Blaka Pulgarty.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Crazy as ever. Those are some of his men right over there.”

The men Elmund indicated had heard their conversation, and didn’t look pleased. They were large and armed.

“You guys’ drinks look a little empty,” said Baris. “A round for these men!”

That cleared the mood right up. “Hooray for the actor!” the men-at-arms proclaimed, and came over to join them.

“How are you fine men?” asked Baris.

“We’re better now! Of course, these ales, they go fast.”

“How’s business been lately? There’s been lots of wars.”

“Didn’t we just hear you say you’re an actor?”

“That’s what Elmund says.”

They hollered over to their sergeant, who was still by the bar.

“Sarge, I think he needs to talk to you!”

The sergeant came over. “You’re not really an actor, are you?”

“Whaddya mean he’s not an actor!” Elmund was offended. “He can buy ale with the best of them!”

Baris shook his head, admitting the truth of the sergeant’s words. “I was hoping to speak with your commander. I am Sir Baris Tyrestal, lord of Selepan.” He nudged Goreg. “Spread some cash around. Make sure they all drink well.”

The sergeant drank deeply of his free ale and said “Sir Baris, Elmund is a good guy. Not if you’re wounded, or sick, or in any way in need of a physician. But he’s a good guy.”

“I understand.”

“Are you looking to hire a company?”

“We are.”

“We are 13 stout men. Sir Blaka is our commander.”

“That’s a lucky number, in my opinion!”

“Our company is available, but Sir Blaka will want to meet you.”

“I would like to meet him.”

“Can I ask what the mission is?”

“I come from the capital. News has not spread yet, but the Lord Marshal is preparing to march, and we are to join him.”

“I may be a lowly sargeant, but even I know there is no Lord Marshal.”

“As of four days ago, the Baron of Kobe is the Lord Marshal, appointed by her Grace the Lord Protector.”

“The Baron of Kobe? Lord Firith? A good commander. Solid captain.”

“You’ve served with him?”

“Not I personally. But Sir Blaka has.”

“That bodes well. When can I meet Sir Blaka?”

“I’ll arrange a meeting at the Nephen Bridge.” The sergeant pointed to Elmund. “Our doctor friend can be distracting. You can buy him dinner.”

“Very well.”

“One thing, sir: may I see your sword?”

Baris passed over the weapon. The sergeant examined it briefly, then returned it.

“That’s OK. Dinner tonight.”

Baris grabbed Goreg, made sure the tab was settled, and hurried back to the keep with the sergeant.

Arva stayed. She was not part of the negotiations, and was curious about this company. She mimicked a Kaldoric accent with skill, putting them at ease.

“What have you been doing this summer? Winter is coming, and no work for men-at-arms.”

“Ahh! We were involved in that campaign against he Pagaelin!”

“Did that take up all the summer months?”

“Yes! … two years ago. Truth is, we kinda sat out this season.”

“To rest and rebuild?”

“...Yeah.”

“Work on your strengths and weaknesses?”

“Oh yeah! Well, we don’t have any of the latter.”

His companion was disgusted. “Just tell her!”

The mercenary gave in. “The baron tried to hire us.”

“Which baron?”

“The Baron of Ternua!”

There was a moment of mutual befuddlement. “Lord Ewen or his lady wife tried to hire you?”

“I know this one! Wait, no I don’t. Lord Ewen, I don’t know him. His lady wife – that’s gotta be the Countess of Osel! She’s been in the castle for weeks. They say she’s belly-up.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

“Oooh! With all due respect to your sex, it’s no pleasure. They say she can emasculate a man just by lookin’ at him! It’s something from her eyes. But they have said there’s almost no better lord in Kaldor.”

“Than Ewen?”

“No, Thilisa! She’s come here to set things right!”

“Lucky to have her.”

“Well, maybe. If she hires us, and doesn’t look at us in that way.”

“So you didn’t campaign this summer?”

“No! There was talk that the Baron Verdreth tried to hire us, but he didn’t meet our price. That’s what Blaka said, and he’s never steered us wrong.”

“How long have you worked with him?”

“Polyp here is the newest, and he’s only been on three years.”

“Are you based here in town?”

“Yes!”

“Has it been a busy season? The town?”

“No more than usual.”

“Why are you only 13?”

“Sir Blaka’s a hard man. IF you don’t measure up, you muster out.”

“High standards, eh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you practice regularly?”

“From dawn to midday. Then we’re allowed repast. After that our time is our own. Every day.”

Arva reckoned she had exhausted the possibilities of the conversation. She made her goodbyes and headed back to the keep.


Cekiya went to what was for her an unusual destination: the temple of Peoni. She wanted to find Rhis of Hew, who had suffered a terrible accident on their last meeting.

“Can we help you, sister?” said one of the acolytes.

“I have a brother now, too?” she said in surprise.

“Uh – I meant that spiritually.”

“Oh, you’re Peonians. I was hoping to have a conversation with Flathand.”

At that gruesome disrespect, the acolyte looked horrified. “Do you mean Father Rhis?”

“Yes.”

“Can I tell him who’s asking?”

“His daughter.”

“Oh. Please wait here.” The acolyte sprinted up the stairs.

When Rhis appeared, his first words were “Oh, it’s you!”

“Oh, father.”

The cleric now had a hook where formerly there had been a hand. “Forgive me, daughter, but I don’t think I can help you move any stones today.”

“But you can do so much more now! Can I touch the hook?” She laid a finger on the gleaming metal. “That’s fantastic! I’m happy for you.”

“My daughter – I now use that term very advisedly – what can I do for you?”

“You’re coming to dinner.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Tonight.”

“Where?”

“At the keep, of course.”

“Who is inviting me?”

“The Black Raven of Ternua.”

Father Rhis struggled to understand this. “I partially grasp your meaning. I assume you refer to Sir Ewen as the holder of the barony of Ternua. I will be happy to attend his dinner, but I think it would be best, child, if you didn’t tell anyone else that I was your father.”

“But why does everyone call you father?”

“It’s figurative? Do you know the word?”

“OK. Then I’ll call you Dad.”

“But then people will take it literally.”

“Have you met Mockingbird?”

“I have not. I am not literally your father. Because that would require me to have had … you have a mother and a father, right?”

“I never had!”

“... Please tell Sir Ewen I will attend.”

“I don’t think you should call him sir, but I will tell him.”


Next on Lord Ewen’s agenda was a meeting with his new steward, Gatanis Nildar.

“Milord, I have no unusual news concerning the audit. Note I am not saying nothing is irregular. Only that so far, I have no concerns. The process is not yet complete. I won’t be able to make a final assessment for at least six months. I need to see how the harvest comes in and the spring planning goes. At this time, there are no particular red flags in the data, but I’m not familiar with the fiefs in question. Come spring, I shall visit every manor in turn and inspect them closely. Given your leave, of course.”

“Very good. I want you to visit Parren Pulgarty, the former steward, at some point.”

“Yes, milord. I probably won’t get a chance to do so until Halane or thereabouts.”

“Perfectly all right. Have there been any issues between you and milady wife?”

“I’m not entirely sure I should say, milord.”

“I raise it, Master Nildar, simply to give you the opportunity, if there are any complications since your arrival in Ternua, to share them with me.”

It is not my place, milord, to speak against the Baroness. However, as a fellow Deryni, I can tell you I did not make a good impression on her.”

“I think to the degree it is within your power, it would behoove you to do so to whatever degree you can.”

“I have endeavored, milord. This is not an easy task.”

“I understand. The Baroness is a strong-willed woman, and her burden is a challenge.”

“Indeed. That seems quite correct. I must say: the Baroness does not seem open to change.”

“When you speak of change, is there an avenue you would advocate?”

“Not specifically. I simply mean new faces, new places, new ways.”

“I think while the dislocation to Ternua made sense in terms of security, the move had been difficult.”

“I assure you, I shall do nothing to increase her lady’s difficulties.”

“What else, Master Nildar, do you have to review with me? Affairs will take me away shortly.”

“Your lordship is aware that the harvest will soon come in. Accounting will have to be made. If I am to act in your best interests, it will be important to know your priorities. Am I to maximize revenue or maximize supplies?”

“At this point we must lean toward the latter. I anticipate due to the situation that it will be imperative to maintain an unusual number of troops.”

“I understand. I can tell you I have already examined the storage facilities. They are inadequate – sufficient for normal purposes, but the situation your lordship describes is not normal. I am not confident that this fief can support your needs.”

“Do we need additional silos?”

“We would need a silo. There are none. It may be difficult to build them in time, but we can take over some existing barns and convert them to granaries. It would take some resources, but if we are to put some foodstuffs into silage, we would need to provide for that storage as well.”

“Sir Aeomund is building a palisade ...”

“He’s very efficient. If he were to build a silo, it would be done.”

“I leave it to you and Sir Aeomund to make plans for construction of appropriate storage within the palisade.”

“That will be difficult, but possible. One more question: how many troops do you need to support over a year?”

Lord Ewen gives the matter long thought. “Five additional companies. About 100 men.”

“Very good, milord. It will be so.”


Nathe of Harabor, hostess, met Baris and Arva at the door of the Nephen Bridge Inn. “Good evening, Sir! Have you come for the fish special?”

“What is the fish special?”

“Ah, river eel! Fresh from the Nephen!”

“Sounds delightful.”

“Right this way, sir.”

They were given a table. Baris looked around for anyone else in the room who might be a knight.

“We were expecting others to join us.”

“Oh!” said the hostess. “Should we wait?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the name by which your party answers?”

“Sir Blaka.”

“Oh, he’s already here! He’s expecting additional members of his party. Right this way.”

Baris recognized the sergeant, and next to him another, older man, with a slight resemblance to Sir Ambric Pulgarty.

“The lord of Selepan, I presume?”

“It is I, Sir Baris!”

“Have a seat. Selepan, eh?”

“It’s quite nice. I’ve been there a couple times.”

“Yes. You don’t look like Sir Harald to me.”

“I am recently lord of Selepan.”

“You would have to be. I did hear a rumor that Sir Harald met an untimely end.”

“That was even before my time.”

“But the point, milord, is that Selepan is a very small manor. Less than 1000 acres, I believe. Whatever do you want of a mercenary company?”

“We have a misunderstanding. I am here representing my lord, Ewen Ravinargh, Baron of Ternua.”

“So, Lord Selepan ...”

“Please, call me Sir Baris. And you are Sir Blaka?”

“I am.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“So tell me, Baris of Selepan: what is your need?”

“There have been recent developments: we have a new Lord Marshal, the Verdreths have lost their heads …”

At this point Nathe inserted her head into the conversation and chirped “Would you like to see the specials?” Everyone nodded at her until she went away.

“To continue: the Queen, new Lord Protector, has ordered the Lord Marshal to remove the Harabors who remain in Heru Castle. It should go peacefully but if not …”

“Forgive me, Sir Baris – for I assume you are a knight – if it should go peacefully, what need have you of us?”

“I misspoke. The hope is that it will go peacefully, the expectation is that it will not.”

“It didn’t occur to me that you’d want to pay us for nothing.”

“I understand with yourself included, you are 13.”

“We comprise half a company. At the present time.”

“And I understand your training is extensive and stringent.”

“There are certain standards I expect my men to come to. That is why were are half a company.”

“The Baron has instructed me to inquire as to hiring your force to supplement our own in this noble endeavor.”

“And what are your expectations? Let’s be clear: is this a suicide mission? Or just a show of force?”

“I think you would have to ask Lord Firith that.”

“Who is hiring us, Sir Baris?”

“You will be part of our forces, so whatever risks you take will be ours as well.”

“I will be honest: my men are not happy, because I turned down a commission. I did so because I did not like what the man trying to hire us told me. Now I do not like what you tell me. Our lives are dangerous, but we will not throw those lives away. Not for you, not for Ternua, not for anyone.”

Arva broke in. “If you know Lord Firith, you will know he will not throw his men’s lives away for nothing.”

Blaka considered this. “Lord Firith is an honorable man, true.”

“Any risks you take, he would be standing next to you.”

“That is how I fight!” said Baris.

“This is the important question,” said Blaka. “To whom would we be responsible? Lord Firith, Lord Ternua or you?”

“Lord Ternua.”

“Then I will tell you: I am inclined to accept this ticket, but not before I meet and speak with Lord Ternua myself.”

“That is only as we excepted. This is only an initial set of conversations.”

“I merely need to look the man in the eye.”

“I understand that as well.”

“Meanwhile we can have dinner and you can tell me more about this mission to Heru.”

The dinner came to 24d. The eel was excellent.


Azura 29, 732

Lord Ewen took his baronial seat on the dais in the great hall of Ternua Keep, awaiting the audience of Sir Blaka. Nearby stood Sir Ambric Pulgarty, because Lord Ewen has not been able to convince him not to. Ewen got the impression the man felt a need to be present when his lord and his cousin met. Obviously, there was some family tension here.

Sir Blaka arrived, shaking rain from his cloak. He bowed and presented himself to the Baron. Only slight scowls passed between he and Sir Ambric.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Blaka. You and your men have a sound reputation.”

“Thank you, milord. My congratulations on your achievement of this barony. You should know, sir, that your predecessor attempted to retain my services.”

“So I understand.”

“I declined.”

“My predecessor in this barony was attainted by his Grace the King due to his son’s craven behavior at Ovendel.”

“Very true.”

“In retrospect, you were wise to decline such a man as he.”

“I did not decline prior, but after the battle. And I declined for a very specific reason: I did not think your predecessor worthy to serve. I have spoken with Sir Baris here, who says he is lord of Selepan. I understand there is some action, potentially, in Heru. This is interesting, even intriguing. But I asked him: whom would we serve? He said you. I will not risk the lives of my men without meeting the man we are to serve.”

“Well said, Sir Blaka.”

“Thank you. I now ask you: why should we serve you?”

“Sir Blaka, I have give my commitment to this kingdom’s new Lord Marshal, Orsin Firith, a man of my esteem, that I will lend my sword and swords under my command, to go to Heru and deal with the younger son of the former Earl of Osel, whom the Queen has recently attainted as traitor and had executed. I have also undertaken …”

Sir Blaka held up his hand.

“You will forgive me, my lord, but the politics and intrigue you relate bear in no way to the lives of myself and my men. We would serve a good lord for a good wage. We have no interest in quarrels of any sort. I ask you again, sir: why should we serve you?”

“I was sketching the situation, Sir Blaka, so you could appreciate the need to have my forces guard the bridge over this river.”

“Again, politics. Why should we serve you?”

“Lord Verdreth lost his barony because he acquitted himself poorly in battle. I, in contrast, led with Lord Firith in the vanguard as we marched, and my men acquitted themselves splendidly. I am First Knight of Kaldor. I have acquired this barony by loyalty to the crown and puissance in battle. If these credentials are insufficient for you, we must part amicably. What say you, sir?”


“I see, my lord, that you have spoken as a true and puissant knight, as a man that I and my men can serve. We shall enter into your service. The details of which I am sure we can work out with you.”

“Yes, we will. It pleases me to have you join my forces.”

“But milord, understand: we do not join lightly. Not for a working day. We join for the season, for the year, for the times.”

“If your men live up to the reputation they carry, then I shall be glad to have you in my retinue for the season.”

“Very good, milord. We stand ready at your service from this point forward. Where would you have us?”

“Be ready to leave at dawn tomorrow. We shall proceed to Tashal, and thence to Heru.”

“Very good, milord. We shall be ready.”

Having dispatched the mercenaries, Ewen met with his seneschal.

“Dickon, I plan to ride with Sir Blaka’s company and the Thardan lads. You will remain here, with the Blue Boars and the feudal levies under your command.”

“Yes, milord. I confess, I wish Sir Rollard would return from his postal duties.”

“Oh?”

“His task is protect the Baroness. My task is protect this keep. Without him, I am forced to divide my attention.”

“Well, he should be back soon.”

“I certainly hope so. He’s had nine days.”


Azura 30, 732

Naturally, an army should march in the rain. Ewen’s forces departed at the gray stroke of dawn. By noon the rain had stopped, at least, and as the sun sank in the west the Ravinargh expeditionary force came to the gates of Tashal. All were grateful for the shelter of Raven Hall.
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