Session Twenty-Six, June 18, 2005

[Matt]

Agrazhar 8, 730 TR

[GM: This is the GM version of activity that took place extra-session.]

Ewen rose from his chair. They had returned from Bevan Palliser’s party, and at first Ewen had laughed at the ease at which he had been able to attend to his ‘lessons’ this evening. They had continued to practice the skills the Deryni taught to children, and while Rahel had professed to be impressed with Ewen’s progress, he could not help but feel that his abilities would never reach the same potential as they might have had he been taught decades before. This evening they had experimented with what Rahel called “Rapport,” but which Ewen properly understood as telepathy. He also understood that he had failed to grasp this principle as readily as he had the others. He was frustrated with himself, and in no mood to consider that he had come very far, very fast in other talents.

The brandy finished, he eyed the alluring Rahel still seated across from him. The firelight danced across her face and accented the exquisite curves of her body beneath the black silk gown she wore. He could hardly still imagine that this creature was his half-sister. It was time to go. He moved towards the door on the far side of the chamber, and she stood. Ewen mumbled something which might have been “good night.” She remained, looking at him.

He stopped and looked back. Her face was slightly upturned, her body silhouetted before the blaze of the fire. He watched as her own aura flared visibly about her, a deep red, red like her lips. She almost seemed aflame herself. Still, she said nothing.

Ewen stopped, unsure. Their eyes met, and Rahel waited. Ewen took another step, not towards the door, but towards her. She continued to look him in the eye. Then, almost before he realized it, he crossed the room and took her in his arms, kissing her on the lips – not the chaste kiss of a brother but that of a lover. Her lips grew warm under the pressure of his, and then parted, moist and delectable. His ardor grew. All at once he felt her mind brushing against his and he welcomed her in. Ewen was flooded with the essence of her, and at first he was almost overwhelmed by the intimacy of the rapport. This was no reading of the mind, this was more fundamental. He felt – no was – part of her passion, her desire, her need, and in their sharing it became impossible to tell where one stopped and the other began. As their minds blended into one, Ewen held her more tightly, and felt her body pressing against him. Almost as if dreaming, he laid her down on the carpet before the fire. Their clothing shed almost of its own accord, and Ewen marveled at the hitherto unknown erotic power of their physical coupling and the mental fusion. He realized he was still kissing Rahel, and his heart exploded with passion. It was like nothing Ewen had ever experienced. And then, he felt his climax, and her climax, and amazingly he experienced both climaxes at the same time.

Slowly, slowly, Rahel’s presence receded from his consciousness. When he could open his eyes, he saw her, looking at him, with an almost feline contentment. They had ended up fully naked, and he was shocked to see the faint traces of blood between her legs and on the carpet. He started to speak, and found that all he could do was embrace her. No longer needing to ask, he understood implicitly that she had never considered any man worthy of her; that the circumstances of her birth – a princess though not a princess – had brought her much loneliness. He also understood through Rahel’s feelings, that this was a shared sadness between her and their father, for he had been unable to help her overcome his own august birth. After a time, they gathered their clothing, and Rahel led him up to her bedchamber. They made love through the night, and Ewen was surprised to see the sun rise so soon. Kissing her gently, he gathered his things, and quietly returned to Palliser House.

[GM: Here we return to the official notes.]

The morning after the dinner party at Palliser House finds the party members taking things slowly while the servants efficiently complete the task of putting the household back into order. Bevan is to closet herself today with Parqu of Aerth, and the signing of paperwork and due witnessing of large amounts of money changing hands will consume the better part of her waking hours. She speaks as well with Lhaol of Uvies, a master mason who is serving as general contractor for the work on the former abodes of Slakka and Jeremiz.

Late in the morning, Imarë and Ewen visit Nicola of Variens, who is pleased to receive a fair copy of Ewen’s latest song, The Young Harper, which he had debuted to a somewhat mixed reception the evening before. Ewen asks her to publicize his availability to play at private events within the city, while Imarë seeks her recommendation regarding a jeweler skilled in working silver. Nicola suggests a craftsman living outside the city in Trevorman, and the two follow her directions to arrive at a house at the end of the path behind the ostler’s common. They wait for a time after knocking upon the door of the unmarked abode, and eventually the jeweler, a Sindarin named Avarin Cusith, comes to the door and speaks briefly in his native language with Imarë before switching to Hârnic for Ewen’s benefit. Imarë shows the jeweler the emerald she was given by Lord Morgan, which he remarks as being well cut, prompting him to speculate briefly about the workmanship, which Imarë confirms was done in Cherafir. Imarë wishes to have her Golothan pennies melted down and the extracted silver used to cast a setting and chain for the emerald, and while the elven jeweler agrees to take on the commission, planning to charge only for his labor as Imarë has provided the materiel, he balks at Imarë’s request to combine the emerald with blue sapphires, gently steering her away from such an aesthetic faux pas.

Ewen then proceeds on alone to the Temple of Halea. He is challenged by the legionnaire at the gate over Rusu Canal and notes that, as usual, there is no activity to be seen at the Morgathian Temple as he passes by. He jingles upon the bell and is ushered into the temple after he indicates his intention of making his tithe to the goddess. The Senashene who sees him, Nalima, a curvaceous blonde, is gratified by his highly appropriate donation of one Khuzan gold crown, representing the one coin in seven properly rendered to the goddess as her due as the Empress of Opulence. Ewen mentions his pleasure in seeing the Haleans enjoying greater freedom of movement in the city after the driving out of the Agrikan Mamekas by the legion cohort, and Nalima and the harper subsequently retire to the plush chambers within the temple for an exercise in private devotion.

Agrazhar 9, 730 TR

Plans for a trip to Selvos, actuated by Sir Auram’s concern that increased Morgathian activity has been noted perhaps as far south as that community, are discussed during breakfast. A visit to Northhaven Wharf serves to book passage down the coast on a small nivik departing on a cargo run on the twelfth of the month. It is agreed that Sir Baris will stay behind this time to keep watch over the house, with a restive Dascomb to accompany his mistress on the trek this time.

Agrazhar 10, 730 TR

Bevan and Sir Baris arrive at Caer Chakta early in the morning to meet Sir Blors for the promised hunt. Sir Mestil of Savurdy is present, as are a number of the sheriff’s men who serve as beaters, led by the redoubtable Hirk of Besagarin. Sir Blors blows upon his horn to commence the hunt, and the party sets off at a trot south out of Chakta and then immediately east, past a small village, and thence into a large forested area which stretches north-eastward to the Thard, which Sir Blors assures them is a fine hunting preserve. Soon the beaters are out in front, thrashing through the undergrowth to flush out potential quarry. After some thirty minutes a cry is heard as an enormous stag is sighted, and the riders set off in pursuit, with Sir Baris proving his horsemanship by sitting his steed admirably in the chase. But it is Sir Blors himself who pulls rapidly ahead, leaving the remainder of the hunting party in his wake as he crashes through the thick wood in pursuit, drawing bow and bringing down the magnificent beast to everyone’s admiring amazement. The stag is triumphantly carried back to the great hall at Caer Chakta, where the deed is much remarked upon before the stag’s carcass is sent to the kitchen for preparation.

Ewen and Imarë join in the post-hunt feasting, where the ale flows freely and Sir Baris commends Sir Blors upon his hunting acumen and skill. The under-sheriff, Piers Gavella, attempts to interrupt Sir Blors with an item of business at one point, but the knight dismisses him with the assurance that he counts upon Piers’ ability to manage the matter himself. Bevan chats with Sir Mestil a while, and learns that he holds a manor in Zabinshire and, along with another knight named Sir Calkis who is otherwise engaged in riding the shire, discharges his proper feudal duties under Sir Blors as his vassal. Ewen, who has prepared a song extolling the virtues of the bluff sheriff, alters a few of the verses to more closely reflect the events of the morning’s hunt and plays The Zabinshire Stag at the conclusion of the feast to the approbation of their host.

Agrazhar 11, 730 TR

Bevan checks in with the mason supervising the work on the Golothan real estate, who offers a drollery or two regarding the more remarkable aspects of the job. He quotes her a fee for the project, but warns that he may need to exceed his estimate should further cadavers become uncovered. Bevan tells Lhaol that she will be out of town for a few days, but that Sir Baris will be at his disposal should consultation be necessary.

Ewen delivers a copy of Ewen’s paean to Sir Blors to Nicola and she remarks upon his prolific prolixity, especially given the recent subject.

[GM: This is the GM version of activity that took place extra-session.]

Later that evening, Ewen slips out of Palliser House and attends upon Rahel to receive further training.

After the lessons, Ewen and Rahel will retire upstairs to her bedchamber. Ewen may (or may not) be pleased to discover that the bath has been prepared for them with steaming hot water, and Rahel suggests they partake together. Ewen quickly discovers that a bath can be a most pleasant experience, especially when shared, and when complete, he and Rahel shift to the large bed. Rahel pours two goblets of wine, and Ewen feels the time has come to ask about Sir Felkar and Subla Uldseth.

The beautiful Deryni woman’s eyes meet his at the question, and for a moment Ewen fears he may have gone too far. It was only a short time ago that they had discussed Haleans, and he did not yet understand her nature or its volatility. The fact that she set her eyes firmly on him while neither of them wore a stitch of clothing was only more unnerving.

“I have been waiting for this question,” she said, without rancor.

He remained silent.

Rahel tossed her hair back and flashed him a smile. “In a very real sense, the Baron of Quste’s death is all your fault Ewen.” Her teeth gleemed whitely as she smiled and she joshed his arm. “After all, your murder of Sir Felkar led directly to the death of the Baron.”

Rahel waited a moment, and when Ewen said nothing, she rolled over onto her back, holding the goblet of wine up and stretching – her small but perfect breasts accentuated in the firelight. Ewen couldn’t help but notice that her nipples remained erect, and he wondered how much she was enjoying the recollection of this tale.

“Yes,” she continued, “all your fault.” She laughed. “I had the Bridgetower watched of course, I knew the Baron had come to Golotha to render tribute to the Morgathians. I also knew it was augmented on account of his cowardice in the rebellion.” She rolled over onto her stomach and looked him in the eye. “I was determined that the money would not reach the Morgathians.”

“He was a fool, of course, Subla. Always on the wrong side. You understand, the Baron of Quste had been living on borrowed time for years.”

“He had managed to survive the change of dynasty only because he was a vassal of the Earl of Tormau. But his mistake was to follow Tormau in his ill-fated rebellion. Ironically, Tormau waited too long. He had in his control the last Araku heirs – a fact known to our father – but since they were the Earl’s niece and nephew it would have been bad form to do anything about them. Yet they were murdered in 727 – an operation I believe was organized out of Sir Auram Graver’s bailiwick - which opened the way for Tormau to try for the crown himself. He failed, but not without leaving a fair amount of flotsam and jetsam in his wake.”

“Among the cowards taken on the battlefield at Retu was Subla Uldseth. He made his peace with the King, but not with the Morgathians who were understandably upset about those they felt had failed to carry their weight. Uldseth had been a Morgathian for some time, and he had typically tithed £11 annually. I never did understand this number as £13 would have been more in keeping with their mysticism. Perhaps his baronial status earned him a discount.” She giggled. “Perhaps it was something else. But in any event, the Morgathians let him know after he paid his tribute in 729 that they were not pleased, and that he needed to pay double in 730 to make amends.”

“I was determined not to allow such a sum into the Morgathian coffers. You now know that I am our father’s eyes and ears in this city, and while he never interfered with the Morgathians, they can hardly be considered his friends or friends of our brother the King. It was my duty to see that this money was intercepted. To that end, I had the Bridgetower watched. I knew of the Baron’s ‘proclivities,’ and I expected that he would be distracted by them. I did not know that Felkar planned treachery, and I did not realize you would involve yourself. But once my observer reported back that the Baron was leaving town post haste, I acted. I ordered Harth to bring me the Baron – and to eliminate the bit players.” She grinned evilly in the light of the fire.

“Harth succeeded brilliantly as always, but now I had a peer of the realm to deal with. He did not have the money. He knew not what Felkar had done with it. He knew not even who had murdered Felkar. At this point, you were a mere curiousity – a man with shields but who obviously did not know about them. I needed more guidance, and I sought it in the most likely place. I went to our father.”

“I knew where he was, of course. You may not know about portals. Oh you will,” she said quickly, moving a finger to Ewen’s lips. “But you are not yet ready for such things. It is enough to know that portals allow us to travel great distances, but only one or two of us at a time. There is a portal in this house and one in Lorkin castle – a secret one – which I used to inform our father of what was happening in Golotha. He determined that the situation was volatile enough to require his presence, and so he returned to Golotha with me. He visited Jelesa of Promel that night, and being discovered by Slakka – mortally wounded him. He also made the rounds of the city, reacquainting himself with it even though Harth and I had begged him not to risk himself. He would not listen.”

“When the time came, he visited the Baron of Quste – then incarcerated in my dungeon. Arren’s really. Though this house is mine, it is truly his so long as he needs it. It was a chilling reunion. Quste had been verbally abusive and vituperative since his capture. I had read him, of course, but nothing prepared him for the sight of Arren of Melderyn. ‘You’re dead,’ the baron stammered. ‘So are you,’ said our father and he drew a dagger across his throat. ‘Done,’ he said, ‘and better for it.’ Harth finished the job – carving your mascles, and he and one of his men dragged him to the pillory. The elimination of the Baron was one thing, but our father felt more could be accomplished. And so he killed the hideworker. When the Morgathians grabbed Slakka, Borana, and Jelesa, he felt he needed to act. No member of the House of Parkhurst he said, would suffer such a fate. Thus he and Merin Sheld raided the temple. (Merin had the bow.) Father killed four of the guards, with Merin’s arrows slaying two more, and then father fought and killed three gulmorvrin, while Merin rescued Borana and Jelesa from their cell. After that, father realized that he had Golotha in his hand, and he contacted Sir Buell who killed the so-called ‘prophet.’ The rest was predictable, although Harth and I spoke in vain trying to prevent him from joining the fight. Sometimes, he is very impetuous.”

Rahel stretched again, and Ewen felt an involuntary movement in his loins. “It was perfect,” she said. “We had planned but to thwart the Baron as part of a long-term plan to return the city to Royal authority, but circumstances moved faster than we could ever have imagined – the die having been cast by your murder of Felkar Uldseth – and with father here on account of that, he took charge and reacted brilliantly to a situation that seemed to change daily. He was masterful.”

With that, Rahel stretched out again. The two goblets floated to the nearby table, and she embraced Ewen, and he embraced her back …

[GM: Here we return to the official notes.]

Agrazhar 12, 730 TR

The party takes ship for Selvos from Northhaven Wharf, and an uneventful voyage brings them out across Boka Bay, around the large expanse of marshy headland, and down into Deversh Bay, where they sail past Caer Selvos itself and drop anchor at the mouth of the River Eisma in the early evening. They spy a dak and two large niviks in the anchorage, while the large wharf is bustling with maritime activity and a busy fish market. Wandering past the bonding house, a sailmaker’s shop, and the pilot’s guild, they pause at an inn they later learn to be The Safe Harbor to witness a number of sailors, crewmen from the party’s nivik, emerge and vomit promiscuously in the street, evidently wasting no time in availing themselves of shore leave. The group gives them a wide berth and saunters north to the village square, where a tall column, inscribed with names, stands as an evident war memorial of some sort. They question a very polite denizen of the town, who confirms their suspicion that The Safe Harbor is an excellent place to become flea-bitten or worse, and learn that The White Gold Inn is likely to afford much better accommodation.

On arrival at the better inn, they find a well-kept establishment boasting a clean, convivial atmosphere and a very youthful and earnest innkeeper with a trim beard and competent manner named Galpras of Uelomel. Galpras greets the party with urbanity and expresses concern that, should they have been hoping to attend the annual Wool Fair in Selvos, they would find it just completed and the merchants all departed for home. Bevan assures him that their business is otherwise, and they make arrangements to retain a suite for Bevan, Dascomb and Imarë and a second room for Ewen, with Galpras expressing regret that the ‘Baron’s Suite’ is presently unavailable. Galpras makes a comment which indicates that he is a Halean and, when Ewen reveals his like affinity, the innkeeper indicates the presence of a temple to their goddess in the town but allows that the majority of the inhabitants are adherents of the other two divine ladies. They are shown into the well-appointed common room and are treated to a dinner of surpassing fineness which exceeds both their expectations and their experience at other locales on Harn.

While consuming this splendid repast, the group considers their neighbors at the other tables. A well-dressed man with a scruffy beard is seated with an attractive young woman with brownish hair; a squat man wearing the clothing of a well-to-do merchant and sporting a rather military-looking haircut is dining with an older, blonde woman; and an effeminate young man is seated with another, both dressed in a manner suggesting nobility of some sort. As Bevan embarks upon her dish of fresh fish and the other three dine upon roast mutton, and they savor their Melderyni wine and apple brandy, Bevan notices that the brunette keeps glancing in her direction. After some time striving to place her, she realizes that the woman is Maeba, a childhood friend perhaps a year or two older than Bevan and daughter of the hideworker who lived next door to Theron’s home in Heroth when Bevan was a girl. She remembers that Maeba moved east to marry the hideworker’s journeyman, and recollects the girl as amiable but slow-witted. She also observes that the man at her table is not, in fact, the journeyman she recalls. Imarë, meanwhile, notes that the room is filled with an unusually strong aura, which upon consideration she decides emanates from the blonde, who is apparently being courted by her male companion and is responding with obvious reserve. The two noblemen, on the other hand, seem quite comfortable with each other.

Bevan rises and goes over to Maeba’s table and greets her, and the young woman exclaims in recognition and gushes for a time about how she was always terrified during childhood by Theron, who she had believed was some sort of witch, and who had become very angry with her at one point for committing some offense against the indigenous shrubbery. Maeba introduces her dinner companion, Daerga of Ekimon, who proves to be a crass and blunt-spoken merchant whose first words to Bevan are “you must be loaded.” When Bevan alludes to her recollection of Maeba’s marriage, the girl becomes shrill and indicates loudly that she had enjoyed connubial bliss until “that other woman” entered the picture, and her comment is of sufficient stridency to alarm Galpras, who hurries over to the table to placate the guests and ensure that the sedate atmosphere of the common room is not disturbed. Bevan and Maeba agree to do dinner soon in order to catch up, and Bevan rejoins her companions at their table.

As the postprandial cordials are consumed, Ewen offers his services as harper to Galpras but the innkeeper superciliously declines, suggesting that his establishment is not conducive to the coarser forms of entertainment, but then smoothly suggests that he would be happy to acquaint Ewen with other venues, including the Temple of Halea and a few of the local guild houses, where his talents may be welcome. Meanwhile, Maeba and Daerga retire upstairs, and the blonde and her companion make ready to depart in a manner which suggests that an amorous interlude is not to be the sequel of the evening. A much older man enters and takes a seat at the only table unoccupied thus far, next to the fireplace, and is greeted by Galpras as “Master Taanar” and treated with much deference. Taanar of Pomada boasts snowy hair and a long white beard, wears a fur-lined cap in spite of the warm weather, and is well-dressed and rather bombastic. Upon being brought a brandy by the innkeeper, he tosses it back, fixes an eye upon Ewen, and pronounces the harper to be a “young whelp” and demands to know what he is looking at. When Ewen only cocks an eyebrow and turns back to Bevan, Taanar loudly challenges his lack of response, at which Ewen turns back to him, makes him a bow, and allows that he had not thought himself to be looking at any particular person, but if he gave offense he begs pardon. Taanar seems surprised at this, stating that to the contrary he considers himself to be a particular person, but then jovially allows that the harper has good manners indeed. Ewen bows again complacently and returns his attention to his companions, while they note that Taanar proceeds happily with dining while consuming glass after glass of a fine white wine without visible change in either condition or attitude. Dessert, a cordial called Halea’s Sweet Kiss, arrives, the two noblemen go upstairs, and the party lingers for a while more over a dish of candied fruits. The tab arrives; they survey the appalling damage, and finally retire upstairs for the evening to the well-appointed rooms which Galpras has thoughtfully prepared for their needs.

Agrazhar 13, 730 TR

The group descends from their plush accommodations at the White Gold Inn to the common room below, where the two effete noblemen are breaking their fast. The party settles down to enjoy the complimentary meal of porridge, honey and milk while Galpras ascertains to his astonishment that Bevan is in fact the daughter of Theron Palliser, who as usual is well regarded and has stayed at the inn during earlier days. Galpras regrets that he is unable to upgrade Bevan to the Baron’s Suite, it already being inhabited by the nobles. Bevan works her way around to asking whether any Morgathians have been disturbing the peace of the community and Galpras seems vaguely horrified at the notion, assuring her that Selvos is a very sedate settlement and that Lord Palgren, the Laranian high priest, would not tolerate such activities, barely suffering the Haleans to maintain their presence in town. Galpras relates that historically Agrikans inhabited the area but they were killed, their lands seized and the present Temple of Larani was built upon the old Agrikan site. Inquisitions were held and Morgathians and Agrikans were put to death. The Haleans, on the other hand, are thriving of late according to Galpras since the arrival of the new Aramia, who has taken a firm hand and shaped things up. The castle is held by a constable, Sir Ellis Hawkwood, cousin to the Lord Chancellor, for Doriath Parkhurst, His Grace the Duke of Golotha, aged six. This is the older of Arren I’s two sons by the Dowager Queen Meghann and coincidentally the heir apparent at the moment.

After breakfast Imarë meanders onto the hill south of town where a number of crypts had been spotted by the party the day before, and meets a young Peonian priestess who notes with puzzlement that the elf “seems beyond.” Imarë inspects the crypts, which are neat and meticulously tended, painstakingly inscribed with names and the occasional effigy, and communes briefly with the peaceful beauty of the place. She then returns to the Peonian, who laments that war has come and gone, bringing to the land great sorrow and a King who “lacks discernment,” referring obliquely to Arren II’s policy of religious tolerance. She says that they must pray that the King receives guidance.

Making good on his promise of the night before, Galpras arranges for the ostler’s apprentice to lead Ewen to the local Halean temple. There he finds a modest building whose front door is guarded by a single, surly Solithar, who seems disinclined to permit the harper to pass until Ewen relates his recent tithe of a gold crown at the Golothan temple, and ramifies the story by producing a second specimen of the specie. He is brusquely shown into the circular chamber at the heart of the small temple building, and waits by the fountain at the bottom of the steps while a very young girl goes to fetch the Aramia. Quelane of Latrale is young for one of her station, blonde and comely, and has recently ascended to her position after beginning her career in Aleath. Ewen does his best to be diplomatic and charming, offering glad tidings of the recent Agrikan discomfiture in Golotha and the Halean’s consequent rise in good fortune and increased liberty of the streets, and Quelane professes the hope that the prosperity of Halea’s blessings will reach the folk of that unfortunate city. She expresses keen regard for the reputation of her counterpart in the Halean temple there, and indicates her interest in striking a bargain with Ewen. The making of bargains being a tenet of the faith, Ewen accedes to the proposition, and Quelane indicates that Ewen is to be her messenger to the Aramia in Golotha, remarking Ewen’s presence and asserting her belief that he would prove a credit to her. The bargain is sealed by acts of mutual piety which are conducted within the diaphanous veils of the temple, after which she and Ewen continue their discussion propped upon the pillows. He is astonished to learn that the Aramia in Golotha bears the name of Elessa of Aerth. Quelane wishes an introduction to her, and Ewen is to act as her envoy. The harper questions her about rumors of increased Morgathian influence in the region, and while she is unaware of such she does indicate that a young sailor, a scrawny thing, disappeared under mysterious circumstances two days previously after visiting a local brothel run by Aelsi of Dandis, who caters to mariners and the urban poor. Aelsi is Halean as well, but is dismissed as grasping and greedy by the Aramia, who evidently finds the man’s zeal in tithing to be wanting. Near the conclusion of their discussion, the Solithar intrudes and announces that the hideworker, Voadu, has arrived, but the Quelane scathingly instructs the guard to send the man away. Ewen wonders whether Voadu is Maeba’s straying husband.

Bevan and Dascomb, in the meantime, have visited the Temple of Larani, where they pray in the chapel for an interval and are approached by a priest who commends their piety while probing for their identity. At the mention of the Palliser name and Bevan’s admission that she enjoys the honor of being Theron’s daughter, the priest expresses certainty that the Serolan will wish to speak with her. An older, heavy-set man with pleasant features and thinning hair, replete with white vestments amply trimmed in red, Barald of Palgren leads Bevan back to a small meeting room where a table is being set and food is brought while they converse. The Serolan queries Bevan about her reasons for coming to the temple and is disinclined to attribute this to religious enthusiasm, knowing Theron’s own lukewarm piety, and he takes sharp offense when he feels Bevan to be disingenuous in suggesting she had come to see the Serolan himself. Bevan parries this, defending her words with some of the circumstances of her visit, although things remain on an awkward footing when she implies that she serves the Crown, and offers news that Theron has finally accepted the appointment to serve Arren II. Lord Palgren’s response, and his evident fondness for clan Kand as stalwart defenders of the Laranian faith, seems only partially mitigated by his acknowledgement that believers such as he must not question the edicts of a King who claims the Lady’s faith as his own. He concludes somewhat ambiguously that if Theron Palliser sees fit to serve such a King, then he is not one to judge.

When Bevan cleverly steers the conversation away from her father by stating that she wishes to cast her own shadow in the world, Palgren admonishes her to not speak of shadows, and this gives her the opportunity to discuss the recent developments in Golotha. She mentions the murder of the Agrikan “Prophet,” the actions of the legion, and the lingering concern about the Morgathians. Palgren expresses satisfaction at the servants of “Demon Agrik” receiving their just comeuppance in the wake of the riots, predictably ranking the Agrikans as of greater concern than the Morgathians, but tells Bevan sharply that he has no reason to think the latter group is active in Selvos. Bevan again finds herself at pains to placate the high priest, although she begins to warm to her own defense at this point, and the Serolan responds firmly that he would be happy of any opportunity to root out Morgathian activity of any kind within his purview, and notes that Bevan resembles her father in keeping her own council regarding the nature of her suspicions. The interview concludes with Lord Palgren indicating that Bevan should bring any information of Agrikan or Morgathian activity in the region to his attention, and that he will deal with it accordingly.

Dinner back at the White Gold Inn proves to be up to the standards of the evening before. The nobleman and his male paramour are again present, as is Taanar at his accustomed table. Daerga, the previous night’s companion of Maeba, dines alone, and a new customer is also present, a reasonably well-off looking fellow with a scraggly beard. Master Taanar acknowledges Ewen loudly, announcing to the common room that he is a fellow of very good manners, and the harper again makes him a low, sardonic bow. Galpras greets the party members again each by name and seats them at their table, and the effete knight calls out that the drink tab for the group should redound to himself. He pulls up a chair and joins the wary party, patting Ewen familiarly upon the arm much to the discomfiture of the harper, and gaily asserts that Ewen has nothing to fear, gesturing fondly toward Bren, his young companion, at the other table. He introduces himself as Sir Auttan Krencathy, son of a Kaldoric knight, and blusters into a description of his preparations for a pilgrimage to a shrine of Larani in the Kingdom of Trierzon, stating that the journey will be dangerous and that he is looking to recruit companions for the trip who are of stout-heart and “open-mind.” Bevan, frankly incredulous and already in a foul temper from her interview with Lord Palgren, stridently berates the young man as absurd and ridiculous, and her loud assault upon the shrinking, increasingly horrified knight results in the hasty retreat of the target of her derision, amused shouts of laughter from Taanar, and a pained intervention from Galpras, who fears for the tainted atmosphere of his sedate common room. Bevan’s three companions, aware that Palliser blood is at a boil for the foreseeable extent of the evening, complete their dinner efficiently and effect an early retirement to their chambers above.