JC Eberdt

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

Martha’s Tale

Caerel was sitting at a long table chatting with Myrthe, which Ala had noticed was the case more often than not. The serving girl, Alissa, Ala’s friend whom she knew from previous visits to the Inn, had just finished refilling their goblets with wine. She nodded to Ala with a smile when she saw her. Alissa always acted distant when she was in sight of the Innkeeper, Helmut. Myrthe and Caerel seemed to be getting on very well, as they had every evening of the trip. They genuinely seemed to enjoy one another’s company. Myrthe had been missing from the quarters she was supposed to share with Ala every night. Matt was in the back playing songs for some of the other patrons. He was a fair hand with a flute he had played them a few bawdy ballads on the trip back to Thetwick.

Ala headed for Caerel’s table. She was still a little wary of her interactions with Caerel since the incident on the practice field. She gestured to Martha to wait a moment.

“Lord Caerel, I found someone I know, a friend, from Thetwick among the travellers – they are in fact refugees – that are out in the common yard. Will you listen to what befell her, I beg of you? Her husband and sons were murdered by Oakharrowers. I have known her for twenty years, I think her story is important to hear.”

“Refugees you say? What is happening?”

“My friend, Martha Callumsdaughter has been on the receiving end of the Constables latest schemes. She can explain,” encouraged Ala, gesturing for Martha to come closer.

Caerel looked over at Myrthe, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Ala took note of the interaction. He apparently valued her opinion. For some reason it pleased Ala that their affair was something more than purely physical.

“Let’s invite her to sit with us, Lady Alagariel.”

“Martha, come and join us. This is Caerel de Duilhac, Lord of Taladaria and heir to the Duke. Next to him is Myrthe Lambertye, Priestess of Guanshiyin, over there is Matt of Duilhac as well as Lieutenant Hieronymus and Sergeant-Major Brugor of the Duke’s Regiment.”

Martha looked very uncomfortable, her eyes darting frantically over the people whose array of names and titles Ala had listed.

“Please sit down. Mistress Martha,” said Caerel, as gently as he could, “Lady Alagariel tells me you have suffered a great injustice in Thetwick, please, tell me your tale so that we might learn more of our adversaries and see justice done.”

Martha curtsied as best she could and looked at Ala uncertainly. After a moment Ala suddenly realised the poor woman was awed by the importance of the people assembled to listen to her. On top of all that, it occurred to Ala that Martha was just as mortified that she had been so familiar with her, as she had just been addressed as a noblewoman by Caerel, who was obviously expected to know about such things.

“Please sit Martha, Lord Caerel needs to know what happened. If we are to seek justice for all of your kin we must know as much as we can about the men from Oakharrow,” said Ala.

“Yes milady…. Milord, I’m sorry I must apologise I was so familiar with… Lady Alagariel earlier. I didn’t know…. no one did in Thetwick, I think.”

Caerel looked over at Ala, a little puzzled. Myrthe, ever socially astute, understood and saved the moment.

“Dear Martha, no one knew, not even Lady Alagariel herself. As you probably know better than I, she knew little of her family. We have since discovered a little more and one of those discoveries is indeed that she is of noble descent. There is no harm done. I am certain you know Lady Alagariel is not the sort to hold petty grudges. Please tell us your tale.”

Ala smiled at Martha, trying to coax her to start telling the tale and inviting her to sit once more. Martha repeated what she had told Ala, with more detail. A few days after Ala had punched her way out of the council hall, the Constable had ordered that the militia men should no longer keep their equipment at home, but that it should be stored centrally at the council hall. Most had complied.

“Foreigners started coming into town, the day after you left… err Lady Alagariel. By their accents I though they might be Oakharrowers, or perhaps some hailed from deeper in Selinus. Many of them were rough types and they were all armed. I heard Willard meant to form up the militia, but the Constable forbade it. He claimed that the foreigners were a ‘civil’ matter and that they had been hired to work some of his new fields…”

“New fields?” asked Ala.

“I think he may have meant Bernard’s fields, milady.”

“I see, please continue.”

“Almost immediately the ‘taxation’ started. Those men started loading carts with the spoils and they disappeared in the direction of Oakharrow. The Constables men rapidly became very brutal whenever anyone spoke against them.”

Martha explained what had happened to Tom, her sons and June. The leader of the ‘tax collectors’ was a man named Ancus, with a scar over his left eye. His accent was different to that of the men from Oakharrow. The taxation continued to increase in its intensity and the sanctions for not complying had swiftly become more severe. Merchant caravans who came to town were “taxed” in the same way. Some merchants were killed in the irregularities. Other merchants made for the Ford Inn. Soon, the word of the ‘taxation’ spread and the regular merchants had stopped travelling to Thetwick. Some of the militia men had been talking of sending a message to the Duke, but nothing had come of it, at least until Martha had seen the Duke’s men camped at the inn. Finally, Martha finished her story saying, “I’m not sure how it all suddenly started. It’s like they were waiting for Captain Bernard to die and Ala… sorry… Lady Alagariel, to leave.”

Caerel looked very angry, “Mistress Martha, these men who terrorise my grandfather’s loyal subjects will be punished. Thank you for telling me your tale. I can see that it was hard to speak of these injustices and I regret they befell you. I will do everything in the power of House de Duilhac to achieve justice and attempt to extract compensation from the culprits.”

Martha nodded. It wouldn’t change enough for her even if justice was served reflected Ala, but she seemed a little more at ease that something was at least being done.

The atmosphere among the Company changed after that. Martha was excused and what had looked to be another relaxed evening became more tense with the men clearly more wary and alert. Brugor headed outside to increase the guard and double check that the lookouts were posted in spots where they could see the surrounding approaches clearly. After the meal Myrthe asked Ala to join her and Caerel.

“It seems this Constable of yours has his eyes set on more than Bernard’s will,” said Caerel.

“I’m a bit shocked to be honest,” said Ala. “I hadn’t really dreamt that he could be actually be dealing with the Count of Oakharrow. Not like this, certainly. This is treason, is it not?”

“It means he has more support than just what he can press gang in Thetwick,” observed Myrthe.

Caerel nodded in agreement. “This is indeed more than just an abuse of power. I agree, it’s outright treason. I hope our strength will be sufficient to deal with this.”

“Even if it isn’t,” said Ala, “we should at least find out a little more about what’s going on. Bernard would have called it reconnaissance in force. Gordon Marchmain’s reappearance with these Oakharrow soldiers also reeks of cooperation that may stretch back for twenty years.”

She’d said it just as Brugor had returned from his rounds.

“Your teacher seems to have been a sound strategist, Lady Alagariel. I’d have liked to make his acquaintance,” said the Sergeant-Major.

“I’m sure you and him would have gotten along well. You seem… cut from the same cloth.”

“Heh, who knows. The elf-maid is right though, milord, a little aggressive reconnaissance would be my preference also.”

“I suppose that’s what we will do then. I’m still hoping we can set things right of course,” said Caerel, as if he felt the need to reiterate that the mission was still to restore the Duke’s Peace.

“Aye milord, we’ll do that if we can. Goin’ to need to be a wee bit more careful goin’ about it, nothin’ more. Just got to keep in mind that they might be with many more than we though.”

“Yes, Sergeant-Major. That is indeed prudent. I’m pleased we’re all in agreement.”

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Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

The Duke’s Peace

They made it to the Ford Inn without any incidents, if you didn’t consider torrential rain and the resulting stuck wagons an incident. Approaching from the Taladarian side of the Iceflow river, Ford Inn held a commanding position that overlooked the ford and offered a view some miles into Taladaria as well. Viewed from this side, Ala was certain it must have been built on the foundation of a castle or some other fortification in the time when Taladaria and the Westmarch weren’t united under the same Lord. The men of the Duke’s Regiment were accustomed to travelling from chartered Inn to chartered Inn in this manner. One had to be a Master with the Innkeeper’s guild to be allowed to run one of the chartered establishments along the official routes of the Caravanners Guild. The innkeepers along the route were all obligated to provide members of the Duke’s Regiment and anyone else who could show a document from the Duke proving permission with anything they lacked. The Duke’s factor would reimburse the innkeeper in question for whatever it had cost, at fixed rates. This was all assuming that Innkeeper could get a representative to go to Peyrepertuse to fetch the money. The alternative was to wait for the factor’s yearly rounds along the Duchy’s Caravan routes for the bills to be settled.

All this knowledge of the inner workings of Taladaria’s ducal system came from Myrthe, who had encyclopedic knowledge of seemingly everything in Taldyr. Her wisdom including detailed information on the mechanisms by which the Duchy was ruled and she was also able to explain that such systems worked more or less the same way throughout Selinus and Iurrak. The Guilds played an important role in making governing large domains manageable. Only Dukes, Princes and Kings were permitted and also obligated to maintain standing military units in Iurrak. Those regiments, mandated by the King had to be supplied by the chartered Inns throughout Iurruk, even if the Regiment was not in the fief it belonged. If one of the Dirua Regiments needed to be somewhere outside Dirua, then the Inns still had to supply them.

The last stop before the river had been in Hightower. Ala hadn’t stopped there on her journey to Peyrepertuse. She had passed it by to catch up to the caravan where she had met Myrthe weeks earlier. Even Matt managed the trip with nothing more than saddle sores and regular complaints. Ala had sort of hoped that the two Royal Customs Officers she had run into during her dash across the river might still be there, but there was no sign of them. The little building on the east bank of the Iceflow was empty. Ala would have liked to talk to them and found out what had happened after she passed them by. News along the route hadn’t been heartening. Rumours and accounts gathered by Myrthe and Matt from travellers out of Thetwick, told of brutality and other incidents with increasing frequency as they approached the Westmarch.

Strangely, the Innkeepers along their route through Sheffield had all reported bandit activity along the King’s Road seemed to have decreased in recent weeks, which was hard to comprehend. Ala thought that sponsored banditry out of Oakharrow should have been something that the Count would have been more than happy to be involved in. She and Bernard had always suspected that Sheffield’s unsafe roads were the Count of Oakharrow’s doing. It wasn’t their direct problem, but she knew Bernard had reported the suspicion to the Duke several times. Why then, had banditry seemed to decline since Bernard’s death? Where had the bandits gone? She was worried it had something to do with what was going on in the Westmarch. The closer they came to the Westmarch the more people seemed relieved to see their band flying the Duke’s colours arrive, as if they were long overdue.

They forded the Iceflow, which was presumably as cold as its name suggested in this time of year. The tracks at the Ford were less than Ala was used to. The Inn looked quiet too. Trade was less than had been customary a just few weeks earlier. That too was out of the ordinary, it was the time of the year for increasing trade. The only thing that ought to slow it down was if the Iceflow grew too deep because of melt water. It wasn’t at its shallowest, but it wasn’t anything that would stop a caravan. It was another indication that not all was as it should be.

“It’s more quiet than it usually is this time of year,” said Ala.

“Surely the death of a militia Captain doesn’t normally affect trade?” Myrthe wondered.

“Shouldn’t should it? Unless that made the roads a lot less safe or something,” suggested Matt.

“Whatever the Constable has been doing since I left, might though,” Ala said.

When they rode into the Inn’s courtyard it was doubly clear that there were far fewer merchants at the Inn than there should be. The King’s Road that they had travelled from Peyrepertuse to High Tower had had its normal share of activity. Merchants must be bypassing the Westmarch, Ala decided. They were turning north at Hightower instead of continuing West to trade mounts in Thetwick as they might have only a month earlier. The stream of people and goods to and from Thetwick had obviously decreased. Aside from the lack of merchants, there were more travellers than usual, people who had belongings with them. People sometimes moved or travelled to live with family, but it was a rarity. There were quite a lot of such people at the Ford Inn, which was unusual.

“This is not normal for the Ford Inn in spring,” said Ala as she dismounted. The Inn didn’t have the vibrant look she was accustomed to seeing after the winter. It looked empty, even sad and the numerous travellers she could see weren’t engaging in any of the usual commerce.

Ala walked around the inside of the walled caravan enclosure and in a corner, under a roof that was meant for storing farm equipment, found a group of several families that were travelling with what belongings they had managed to load onto a small donkey cart. What they looked like, Ala decided, was refugees. She was about to ask a question when she realised she recognised one of them. The woman was Martha Callumsdaughter whom she’d known since the tragic day when Martha’s half sister and father had been murdered. Martha had witnessed Gordon Marchmain doing it when she was only twelve years old.

Ala had remained friendly with the woman ever since and she was now the wife of a farmer. Martha was an attractive woman in her mid thirties with auburn hair. She was wearing a rough brown dress and a green headscarf that only allowed a few wisps of her hair to escape. Ala was certain she had still lived at Piersson Steading, close to Thetwick’s southern edge, with her husband just a few weeks earlier. Ala had stopped at their farm many times to water the horses when she was riding patrols with the militia.

“Martha? Martha Callumsdaughter?”

Martha’s features changed to surprised recognition when Ala approached. “Alagariel? Truly? Whatever brings you here? It’s not safe for you, you know! You should go back to where ever you disappeared to! Not that it’s not good to see you, mind, but it really is dangerous in the Westmarch now.”

“I know it is.”

“Wait… did you just arrive with the Duke’s soldiers?”

Ala nodded, “I did. It’s good to see you though I am most alarmed to run into you here. What happened that you are here with your family and belongings? Where is Tom?”

She saw Martha’s eyes water and her lips tense up, giving Ala an unspoken answer.

Ala spoke softly, “tell me what happened?”

It was difficult for her to speak, “Tom… he died….”

“Please tell me what happened… this.. this was no accident I take it? You wouldn’t be here fleeing with your family, otherwise, I think.”

“No… he was murdered… and John and Henry too.”

Ala was shocked. Martha’s husband and two sons were both dead.

“Gods…. Martha… I’m here with the Duke’s men, we are on our way to Thetwick.”

“There is great trouble there, Ala.”

“The Duke sent us to arrest the Constable and make certain ducal authority in the Westmarch is safeguarded in future. Please tell me what happened? It’s important to know.”

“They killed Tom and my boys. They stood up to them and they killed all of them! Laughed as they did it…”

“OK, now. Take a breath… start at the beginning. Who did it? Was it the Constable?”

“They have something to do with the Constable, he calls them his ‘enforcement squad’ or summin’. From their accents, I think they’re from Oakharrow or further… and Ala…”

“What?”

“I think one of them may have been Gordon Marchmain.”

Just hearing the name made Ala’s blood boil again. Martha had seen Gordon Marchmain murder her father and sister two decades before.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Not sure… and I’m certain he didn’t recognise me. But I think so. I remember him. When they left June and I took what we could and fled, that night, we gave Thetwick as wide a berth as we could and came here.”

“You don’t think Marchmain was back for revenge?”

“It seems not… what I’ve heard from the other… refugees… what the Oakharrowers were doing… it was the same at all the farms. When I saw him, I was frightened… but now I think he wasn’t really after me. Oakharrowers were doing the same everywhere….”

“But then… it is the new constable who has Oakharrow men in his employ? Gordon would be… his uncle would he not?”

“I think so, yes.”

“It certainly offers a clue about the connection.”

“Marchmain wasn’t their leader… when they came, they were led by a Knight, though he bore no colours. He gave the orders, though he left while they were being carried out… the man I think was Marchmain… was, a sergeant or the like.”

Things were worse than Ala had imagined possible. Ala’s mind raced. Was that why the raiders had been so good at eluding the militia? How long had the Constable been colluding with the Oakharrowers, she wondered? Could this be where all the bandits had gone?

“The Constable has brought in these soldiers from Oakharrow?”

“Yes. They have a camp around three hundred yards up the creek from Thetwick. About a week after you left, they came round the first time, Gordon and the Knight and more men. They said there had been a tax increase. Took all our best provisions, everything we had been meaning to take to market. I heard some men, militia men stood up to them, like Willard. I heard Gordon and his men killed him and those with him.”

“Gordon Marchmain killed Willard?” said Ala, shocked. Willard had been her second in the militia for years.

“I don’t know that he did, personally. I only heard talk that it was him.”

Ala took a deep breath, recovering, “Best tell me the rest.”

“Two weeks later they came again, Gordon and his men. Said it was tax time again. Tom told them no. They killed him… and my boys and… and… they took my eldest daughter, June… took turns…”

Ala felt her blood run cold. She took a deep breath to steady herself and then attempted to speak as normally as possible.

“I cannot bring your husband and sons back or reverse what happened to your daughter, Martha. I am so sorry Martha, that such tragedy has found you again. I can promise you these men will pay for what they have done and I will find Gordon Marchmain too. I know it is a poor consolation.”

Martha’s face became very intent, “I feel it will offer a little satisfaction, at least.”

Ala nodded before continuing, “Lord Caerel, the Duke’s grandson is here. Will you relate to him what you told me?”

“Lord Caerel…? He’s the Duke’s actual grandson? Truly? Yes, yes. of course I will come. But I look a state…”

“He will understand, Martha. Please come with me to the inn, we’ll find him.”

If you wish to receive the weekly installment to this story in your inbox, please subscribe to the newsletter below.

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

Chapter 5: Homecoming

It has long been challenging for a Lord to exert his authority over unruly underlings. Many a relationship between a vassal and his lord has grown sour for lack of a lord effectively managing his relationship with his vassals. Even if there is no vassal who may be prone to delusions of grandeur, this is still no guarantee that a lord’s authority will remain uncontested. Many a lord is forced to defend his title within his own borders, even in times of relative peace. It is to be encouraged for a Lord to forge bonds of alliance and marriage with his vassals. Shared economic interest is another strategy that can contribute to a stable bond between a Lord and his vassals. This is not enough however and a Lord should diligently and regularly visit every corner of his realm, doing so is absolutely vital to its integrity. Failing to maintain such bonds can lead to a collapse of the relationship and even become dangerous for everyone involved as such problems can easily result in charges of treason or violent revolt by a vassal.

While a canny lord may be tempted to administer a fief himself, simply dispensing with giving it in vassalage to anyone, this tends to lead to even greater problems. A realm of any significant size requires day to day supervision and a Lord simply cannot be everywhere at once. Hence, a fief directly administered without its lords very regular presence is very likely to lead to unpleasant surprises brewing up in the unsupervised fief. This is one of the many reasons why the practice of giving more than one regnant title to a single person, should absolutely be avoided.

From the book “On Kingship” by Selinus IV, “The Scholar”, King of Selinus, circa 260

If you wish to receive the weekly installment to this story in your inbox, please subscribe to the newsletter below.

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

Return to the Westmarch

Eventually, the warband had taken shape. The whole company ended up numbering almost fourty. Caerel was in overall command, fulfilling the role of Captain. There was a troop of ten experienced cavalrymen with mail, shields, swords and long spears, mounted on Frisian destriers that had all been bred in the Westmarch. Next were ten of the Duke’s elite mounted pikemen with five-yard-pikes, shields, light crossbows, and swords. They were mounted on lighter steeds. Last were ten mounted archers. They were equipped with short swords and longbows, which they had to dismount to employ. There was also a small supply train with wagons and crossbow armed teamsters to transport feed, tents and everything else that was needed when a warband travelled.

The gruff Sergeant-Major, Brugor, was assigned to the expedition as well. Ala assumed he would be granted early retirement and made Captain of the Westmarch Militia if things went according to plan. Myrthe had explained it was a customary posting for competent senior enlisted men who were nearing retirement age. Ala wondered who they had in mind to take the post of Constable. Perhaps the Duke would send someone on after them for the job or maybe they would select another Thetwick local to do it. She wondered who she might recommend, if she was consulted. Probably Harald, she decided. Not that it was a pressing problem, a Captain could certainly look after a Constable’s duties for a while if needed.

Myrthe had asked Ala to try to teach her to meditate, but the priestess was absent from her bedchamber every time Ala went to look for her. She could guess where she was and what she was doing of course. She judged it unlikely that practising meditation had the highest priority and gave up on it, deciding to let Myrthe take the initiative.

It had taken a week to gather the supplies, people and horses. They left Peyrepertuse a little after dawn on First, a full week after the eventful session of the Duke’s Court. The weather was clear and only marred by the occasional spring shower. Caerel was mounted on an enormous white Percheron at the head of the column, with a guard Lieutenant named Hieronymus assigned as second in command by his side. Hieronymus was a tall, gaunt man, his brown hair greying, who had been in the guard forever. Gladiuth had told her he never really seemed likely to hold more than the Lieutenant’s rank he now held. It was clear that the Duke intended for Caerel to do the leading and Brugor was there to keep an eye on him. Why Hieronymus had been selected to come along wasn’t really clear to Ala? Perhaps the Duke didn’t want a powerful personality influencing Caerel’s leadership? Ala didn’t really see why the man had been sent along.

The baggage train consisted of five wagons filled with supplies. Each was drawn by two quick draft horses so they could keep up a good pace. They were intending to travel at twice the speed of an ox drawn caravan, meaning they should be able to make it to Thetwick in around eight days. A week’s practice had taught Matt how to sit on a horse without falling off. They had found him a gentle but energetic brown mare that wasn’t likely to scare easily and throw him. He wouldn’t be doing any lance charges, but neither was he going to fall off at the first sign of trouble. Ala was riding Fulgor and the Duke had let Myrthe pick one of the guard horses, an energetic grey gelding named Peter. Alagariel had dared to ride through Duilhac without her hood up. People stopped to stare and point at Myrthe who was riding beside Ala as they rode by.

“Myr, why are they pointing and staring at you?”

“Oh Ala, you dolt, you’re so naive. It’s not me. Do you have any idea what these people see when you ride by?”

“I don’t understand what you mean?”

“What do you think you look like in mail with those pointy ears and that red-golden hair and a cape trailing behind you, seated on an eighteen hand black stallion, surrounded by the Duke’s soldiers and colours?”

“Well you certainly make it sound like it should be something cool…”

“It’s like something out of a faerytale. You touch the imagination, which, as I understand it, is precisely what your people have done for elvenkind for millennia! Truly, how can you not understand that they’re looking at you? Gods, you’re so oblivious sometimes!”

If you wish to receive the weekly installment to this story in your inbox, please subscribe to the newsletter below.

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

Preparing to March

The Duke had ordered that a company of warriors be organised to restore the offices of Thetwick. He also needed to select a new Captain and Constable for the region. Putting together what was really a temporary, self sufficient unit took a little while. In the meantime Matt was helping the guard root out as much of the Thieves’ Guild as he could. It showed just how powerful the organisation had become. It was deeply infiltrated in many levels of Duilhac society. The town was in an uproar as Matt pointed out several City Guardsmen that he knew to be on the Thieves Guild payroll. The dungeons were crowded and soldiers of the Duke’s Regiment were scouring the city and had take over the civil dungeon in Duilhac as well, both because they needed the space and the Duke felt her couldn’t be sure of the City Guard’s loyalty. The Duke himself had gone down to Duilhac several times to make certain things were being handled to his standards.

Myrthe and Alagariel were invited to stay at Peyrepertuse, both as a social courtesy and so they would be closer at hand to the preparations for the expedition while the city was being turned inside out. Ala brought Fulgor up from Guanshiyin’s stables the next day.

“Are you sure you want to come to Thetwick, Myr?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure. I don’t feel like you have played your part yet Ala. Unless you have tired of my company?”

“No, no, I would love for you to come… I don’t think I could ever tire of our friendship. I just feel like I am leading you in circles… there must be something more important for you to do, mustn’t there? Other than travelling up and down the road to Thetwick?”

“I’ll be the judge of that. I’m on Sojourn. I am listening to the cries of the world. They ring loudly around you. Besides, I hear that Caerel is to be leader of the expedition,” she said with a naughty look. “Oh and I think it’s quite a nice road,” she added with an amused smile. “No one said following cries would be straightforward. Or that you can’t have a little fling on the way.”

Ala shook her head, “incorrigible. Be that as it may, though, I’ll be glad to have you along. I’m worried what we’ll find in Thetwick. The Constable has had free reign all this time. The Thets will not be having an easy time of it.”

“I understand. One other thing, too. We can’t leave Matt here. He’s still too dangerous to the guild. They will try for him again and again.”

“The condition for his freedom is that he helps against the guild.”

“I know! But that effect is already being achieved. The patrols are discovering more and more places where the thieves simply ceased doing whatever they were doing and have vanished. His knowledge was so complete, they are completely changing their way of doing things. He doesn’t need to be here. Just the demonstrated effectiveness of his knowledge is sufficient for the Guild to pack up shop for now. They’ll just lie low or relocate. The guard will be better off giving them some time and space and then revisiting their old haunts in a few months when they think the danger is gone.”

“How are we going to convince the Duke of this?”

“I have an idea. I’m going to go find Caerel.”

“How are your horizontal activities going to help us?”

Myrthe stuck out her tongue at her before she explained. “He’s going to present my idea to the Duke as his own. Trust me, it will work out fine.”

Myrthe was being her usual secretive self and refused to tell her what she had in mind. But, sure enough, Matt came by that evening saying that he had been ordered to accompany them to Thetwick. He still looked out of place in his Regimental uniform.

“I don’t really understand, I haven’t led the guard to more than half of the places and people I know have something to do with the guild.”

“How many of those places have yielded results?” Asked Ala.

“Less and less, I guess. The guild is catching on quickly that they’ve been burned. It’s to be expected really. It’s what I would do.”

“So, perhaps it’s better to let them think you know less than you do. Leave them alone for a while, and then hit the rest in a few months?”

“That’s a good idea actually, I should mention it to the Captain…” Myrthe gave him a look.

“Oh. Right…. You?”

Myrthe just looked at him for a moment. When Matt realised she wasn’t going to say anything, he continued.

“Ok, ok, I get it… off to Thetwick it is.”

“Do you actually know how to ride a horse, city boy?” Myrthe asked.

“Sure, seen people do it all the time.”

Ala and Myrthe looked at one another.

“We’d better go and practice a bit,” Ala said.

They also had a visitor in the days leading up to their departure. They were out in the practice yard, Myrthe was teaching Matt to ride, and Ala was practising weapons drills when Talathiel strode into the courtyard. Her turquoise blue hair was unmistakable and to accentuate it she was wearing an ornate robe with an intricate pattern of blues and greens. Her cloak was in the same colour scheme and it billowed out behind her as she walked. Following behind her at a distance, taking its time sniffing things, was a black bear. She singled out Ala and headed straight for her. Ala quickly excused herself from her practice partner. Talathiel and Georgina drew quite a few stares. Gladiuth, who was also out in the yard, approached to head her off. He appeared worried the woman might do something mad. He called from a distance.

“Hello auntie, out and about? We don’t often see you leave the shop. What’s the occasion?”

“I wish you wouldn’t use these human familiar family terms. I can’t imagine anyone actually wishes to be referred to as an ‘aunt’, Gladiuth. As if my existence is somehow dependent on my relationship to you. Unless it’s their sole claim to fame, I suppose. In any event, shoo, I came to speak to Lady Alagariel.”

Gladiuth had reached her, clasped her hands and kissed her cheek in the elven manner. Ala approached and fumbled a bit with the hand-clasping kissing ritual. Talathiel shook her head with a slightly amused look.

“Good effort child. Perhaps we can sit over on those steps and talk for a bit?”

“Aunt Tala, now that you’re here for once,” pleaded Gladiuth, “please don’t forget to pay your respects to the Duke. Someone needs to save him from that incompetent Court Wizard.”

Talathiel glanced at him with a dismissive expression, “peh, he’s fine. Doesn’t need me.”

“Should I find you a room where you can speak to Lady Alagariel? It’s not fitting to sit out here in the practice yard.”

“Go away, Gladiuth.”

“Also, I still think you should do Jurgen’s job.”

“Gladiuth, he knows where to find me if he needs me or if Jurgen isn’t able to do what he needs. I’m not hanging around this dark Castle all the time. The shop is closer to the river. I prefer it.”

“Jurgen can barely boil water!”

“Come now, you’re not buying into that silly story like all the peasants are you? But, I will see if he is available after I have spoken to Alagariel, young nephew, just to see if there is anything pressing. Does that set your mind at ease?”

Talathiel had more of a sense of humour than Ala had given her credit for.

“Thank you, Tala,” said Gladiuth.

“Now, go away.”

“I didn’t realise you were a wizard,” said Ala.

“Oh, I thought someone would have mentioned it? I understand it’s prime gossip in Duilhac. Come along.”

“She’s a very talented Water Magister, in fact,” explained Gladiuth.

“Go on about doing whatever it is you do here, Gladiuth,” said Talathiel, shooing him off again, “I want to talk to Lady Alagariel now.”

Ala and Talathiel sat down on the steps leading up to one of the smaller courtyard buildings. Georgina had found a guard’s pack that must have some food in it. The bear was dexterously undoing the buckle that kept it shut. Talathiel clearly held the opinion that the bear’s activities didn’t warrant any action on her part and simply continued the conversation with Ala.

“I looked into you a little, young Alagariel, because I had an inkling of a sense of something when we met. Perhaps it’s destiny, though I’m reticent about using such weighty terms. I’m not sure how or what, it’s just a feeling, but elves have learned to take heed of such sensations. I feel an urge to be around you, but perhaps that’s just a hundred thousand years of fire elven charm ingrained in my bones. Anyway, I’m not going to follow you around like those two cute young humans over there,” she gestured at Myrthe and Matt, looking at them with an inscrutable expression.

After a moment of silence that was just long enough to make Ala think she should say something and wonder exactly how she knew the details of the expedition to Thetwick, Talathiel continued, “instead, I am going to give you something that Yesme helped me make.”

It was a small vial with two liquids, green and blue, which didn’t mix.

“It’s something to call me, when it’s time. You shake it like so…”

The green and blue liquids flowed into each other, looking a lot like the pattern on the robe she was wearing, “and you pour it into a body of water. That water must be connected to the other waters of the world, so a puddle won’t work unless you’re very lucky, but almost all streams, rivers, wells and oceans will. Be careful with mountain lakes, they are sometimes isolated. I will feel the call and know it is you.”

Ala accepted the vial. She decided there was not much point in asking what might happen after she had followed the instructions, though she was curious.

“What did you find out about me? Also, how do I know when it’s time to use this?”

“You’re almost as impatient as a human. It’ll be the upbringing. Or perhaps it’s fire elves… your elven kind does have a reputation for impatience… possibly its just been too long since I was around fire elves… so exhausting.”

Talathiel looked thoughtful for a moment again. Ala was finding her a challenging conversation partner.

“I digress. I looked into my pool, but I did not find much at all. Which is strange in and of itself. The world is generally clear to me, usually even magnified or a little exaggerated through my pool if I will it so. The only way that my view can be veiled, is if someone has taken the trouble to veil it, like an octopus using its ink cloud.”

“What does that mean?”

“Someone has used magic to hide you, dear. It has a metallic tang to it.”

Ala looked at her, somewhat awed, “an elf would have to have done this?”

“Well, there are others who can use magic, but I would say it was an elf, even specifically a very strong metal elf, just by the character of the magic. Water elves are traditionally most versed in seeing far. They are therefore also the ones who can best hide things in the vastness of the deep. I would say it was done by a metal elf, though any very skilful wizard could theoretically have done so. I expect it would be within the abilities of a Custodian of any of the elven kind. Or it should be… who knows how standards have slipped these days?”

“What is a Custodian?”

“Oh yes of course, we hadn’t yet covered the Custodians yet. Each nation of elves has a Tower of Magic. Historically, the Custodians report directly to the High Throne. Legend is that the first Custodians were ancient Alagariel’s own Cabal of mages, those that she often cooperated in casting circles with. Obviously that hasn’t worked that way in a while. The caretaker of each tower is called the Custodian. They are generally very promising wizards, though perhaps not all as strong as they were originally intended to be.”

“Well, there was once an elf somewhere who knows I existed, at least. That is more than I was sure of before. Thank you for taking the time to look into it, Mistress Talathiel. Now, when should I use this?”

Ala held up the vial.

“I think you’ll know when, but considering your lack of elven attunement, I will tell you what I saw. It is like a dream. I saw you standing on a hill, observing a field of campfires, like a camped army, with me next to you. That’s all.”

“I hope I will understand it when the time comes.”

“I’m not worried.”

Talathiel stood up.

“I’m going to find the Duke now. I will be seeing you quite soon I think.”

Talathiel stood up and strode off, though she stopped by Georgina for a moment, who was happily sitting in the middle of all the things she’d taken out of the guardsman’s bag. Talathiel looked at the bear with a stern expression.

“If you take things out of a bag, young Georgina, you also have to put them back! Imagine what a mess Taldyr would be if everyone behaved the way you do!”

She then turned and continued her route towards the keep. Georgina sniffed a few more items and then followed after her, leaving the contents of the bag where they were. Ala was left behind, wondering what on Vatan that had all been about. She put the vial in her pouch. Gladiuth reappeared once Talathiel had disappeared from view.

“Interesting, isn’t she?”

“She has a certain intensity to her. Like a wave breaking over you? How do I feel that way? I don’t think I’ve ever seen the sea?”

“Have you not? That is indeed strange. I have no answers for you, I’m afraid. That feeling though, it goes with water elves. My mother says there are also ones who are calm like mountain pool. Guess auntie Tala isn’t that sort.”

“You didn’t tell me she was a wizard.”

“Oh, I thought everyone knew. She’s about a zillion times more competent and smarter than that idiot Jurgen. She can’t be bothered to hang around at the castle though, to the Duke’s chagrin. He makes do with Jurgen unless there’s something important that needs attention. I’m not sure I have ever actually seen her do magic though. Jurgen is always muttering incantations, with mixed effects. She doesn’t appear to do it that way.”

“Well. She’s fascinating. Not exactly easy going, but very fascinating.”

“Good description. Anyway, let’s get back on the field, sword-forms don’t do themselves.”

“Do all elves have magic?”

“No… well not like Tala anyway. My mother is an inscribed Magister too and highly regarded in elven magical circles. She’s not in Tala’s league though. Though Tala praises her skills as an apothecary regularly.”

“So what’s the difference?”

“Well aside from the fact that Yesme is inscribed in Earth Magic… Tala is in a league of her own, the may my mother describes it. A connection to water magic that even other water mages can only dream of.”

“So there tends to be a lot of variation among inscribed magisters?”

“To be honest, not generally as I understand it. Talathiel’s connection is primal. It’s more like you and the fire, really, come to think of it.”

Ala sighed, “every step forward I take seems to result in a million more questions.”

“Such is the nature of inquiry. One of my early sword teachers used to say that a lot.”

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Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

The Duke’s Court

After the meal they walked to the Duke’s Court, which was always held in the Great Hall of the central keep. There seemed to be a lot more guards about than Ala had seen before. The Guard Captain obviously wasn’t taking any chances. She nodded a greeting to Brugor, he was among the guards arrayed inside the hall. He stood near the dais, near enough to the Duke to be able to intercede if anything unexpected happened. The big man gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement.

Abe was there already, chained up and looking despondent as he sat on a wooden bench with some other unfortunates, waiting. There was a gaggle of peasants on the right, and a few richer looking men at the front of the group. Ala surmised that It was probably a representative turnout for a day at the Lord’s Court. Just normal people that sought to bring their case before the Duke.

The procedure for a Lord’s court was a recipe for exasperation. People were noted down in order of arrival. The Lord heard cases, one by one, taking however much time he thought was necessary. At noon, court was over. If your case hadn’t been heard yet, you just had to come back next time, which was on Third, unless the Lord had a different engagement and cancelled that day’s court. Sometimes, the Duke would also designate someone else to hold court in his stead, Myrthe had explained, but the current Duke only did so rarely if he was in residence at Peyrepertuse.

Also, the Lord could decide a different matter had priority, moving everyone else back a space on the list. That was a right that the Duke chose to exercise today. He was seated in a high-backed chair behind an enormous table, in the middle of the long side on the raised platform at the head of the Hall. It was the same table and chair he sat at for banquets. To his left and right were a number of officials, including the Court Wizard, as well as a plains dwarf which was a species Ala had only ever seen at a distance before and two other men, one fat one wearing a robe and a priest’s medallion and Caerel. That startled her initially, but made sense after she considered it for a moment… The young man was the Duke’s heir. Familiarity with proceedings like these was vital. In fact he might already have to had to preside over the court numerous times if the Duke had been unavailable. There were also several scribes sitting at small writing tables to the side. There was a lot of talking in the hall until the Duke hit the table with his judge’s hammer. Then he addressed the dwarf.

“Master Gorek, a change of order. First we will hear the case brought by Lady Alagariel,” said the Duke.

The Dwarf nodded, “as you wish, your grace,” he said in a gruff voice and rearranged his papers.

There was discontented murmuring in the public area. Some of the people may well have been waiting for weeks to have their case heard for all Ala knew.

The dwarf spoke, “Lady Alagariel, please come forward and state your full name and the nature of your case for our records.”

Ala strode forward dropping her hood, which caused even more murmuring.

“Your grace, I am Alagariel, my home has been Thetwick. Until recently I was referred to as Alagariel Half-Elven due to confusion about my heritage. I am not a half-elf, but a fire elf. I come before you with a question about the estate of Bernard Alanson, the late Captain of the Westmarch Militia and a retired sergeant-major of the ducal regiment,” said Ala.

“I have been informed to some extent about the matter, Lady Alagariel,” said the Duke, “But please, for the court’s record, recount the whole tale.”

Ala told the whole story, from Bernard’s death, the events at the Town Council, the attempts on her life, the encounters with Abe and later Magnus, and the contract put out on her. The Duke listened dutifully until she was finished.

“Have you witnesses or evidence to support your tale, Lady Alagariel?”

It was the traditional question that came next.

“I do, your Grace. Lady Myrthe of Easthall, Priestess of Guanshiyin was present for many of these events. Matt, formerly of the Thieves’ Guild can tell of the contract placed on me. Abe, in chains over there knows the truth, though he may not speak easily. I have my copy of Captain Bernard’s will and perhaps the signature on it can be compared to his signature on your grace’s warrant assigning him the Captaincy of Westmarch. The forged will is still in Thetwick I am afraid, your Grace. I would also respectfully request leniency for Matt, if I may take this opportunity to do so, on the basis of his willingness to cooperate and expose the Thieves’ Guild.”

“I see. We will hear your witnesses now. The request for leniency has been noted and will be discussed separately.”

Myrthe and Matt told their tales as well. The Ducal warrant was produced from the archives, someone had seemingly already made sure it had been retrieved and each of the men at the table and the head scribe compared the two documents. They all individually noted down their opinion, and the anonymous vote was tallied by the Duke. Abe was brought forward. He was belligerent, but in awe of the Duke at the same time. The Duke questioned him himself. It did not take the old man long to wear him down. He implicated Magnus again, though Matt had already done that convincingly but he also confirmed Travis the Constable of Thetwick’s role. His description of what had happened with Bernard’s will at the council in Thetwick wasn’t of particular use, which was probably because he hadn’t really understood the proceeding.

“The signatures are unanimously agreed to match. I am convinced of the validity of this will that has been brought before my court by Lady Alagariel. Even without that, I find the validity of the other evidence overwhelming. I find the case brought by Lady Alagariel to be sufficiently proven. I judge this will to be the only one and only Last Will and Testament of Bernard Alanson of Thetwick, Captain of the Westmarch Militia and Lady Alagariel of Thetwick to be his only rightful heir. The litany of crimes against Taladaria brought to light by these testimonies leads to the following judgement. The Constable of Thetwick is hereby removed from office and sentenced to death by hanging as is his son Magnus of Thetwick. Abraham Toddson of Thetwick is sentenced to death by hanging.”

The Duke glanced over at Master Gorlek to be certain he had noted everything down.

“As for practical matters, the following actions will be undertaken. One of my officers shall compare the will in Lady Alagariel’s possession to the alleged forgery in Thetwick, for the sake of completeness. That is assuming it doesn’t disappear by the time we get there. That aside, even without the forgery, the evidence and testimony presented to me is more than sufficient. These decrees, except Abraham Toddson’s sentence, will be carried out by a party that will travel to Thetwick with all possible haster. It will be led by my grandson, Lord Caerel, who will be accompanied by Lady Alagariel, if she will consent to go. Abraham Toddson will be hanged in Duilhac tonight.”

Ala couldn’t help but feel a certain satisfaction. Coming here hadn’t been for nothing. The Duke continued his speech.

“Next we will deal with the plea for leniency in the case of Matt, formerly of the Duilhac Thieves. Step forward for questioning. Now is the time to come clean, Matt of Duilhac.”

“Yes, your grace,” he said meekly.

Matt had to relate countless crimes he had committed or participated in. At the same time, he had lots of details about the guild, people involved to a lesser or greater extent. He didn’t know who the guild master was, but he could indicate a number of trusted lieutenants. The Duke was obviously conflicted about how to deal with him. As he was about to get around to sentencing, Myrthe stepped forward.

“Your Grace, may I make a suggestion for sentencing?”

“Yes, I suppose so, Lady Myrthe.”

“While Matt’s crimes are many, he has not murdered anyone and abhors violence. He has also bettered his ways by coming forward and exposing his former associates. His knowledge and aptitude could continue to be valuable to your grace as a special addition to your Regiment. Perhaps he could be assigned a term of service, at the end of which his contribution could be evaluated. If he serves you well enough, he could be freed, and if not, he can still be held accountable for his crimes. I think Matt himself would relish the opportunity to redeem himself in such a manner.”

She had formulated it slightly more positively than Matt felt about it, Ala was sure, but it was pretty much the boy’s only chance. Ala had also been shocked at just how much stealing, racketeering and whatnot he had done. From his tale it was also clear that he had gone to great lengths to avoid violence, however. Considering his performance in the Tea House, Ala easily believed that he was no fighter.

“Matt of Duilhac, what say you?”

“Your Grace, it would be my great honour to serve you and Taladaria as best I could, for however long you require me too. I have many amends to make.”

“I am conflicted on this young Matt. It is the quality of those speaking on your behalf that stays my hand, in any other case it would be a trip to the gallows. As it is I sentence you to death…”

Ala’s heart sank… should she have let him escape? He shouldn’t be hanged, she was about to stand and say something, when the Duke continued speaking.

“I am, however, suspending your sentence. Do not blemish the honour of those that spoke on your behalf. Ten years service in the Guard, unpaid except for room, board and equipment. Reevaluation at that date. Report to the Captain at once. You will make every effort to root these thieves out of my city, understood?”

“Yes, at once, your grace. Thank you… thank you.”

Ala felt relieved. For a moment, she had really thought the Duke would have Matt executed immediately. She knew many had hanged for a lot less. As she relaxed she realised it was already an hour after noon. The Duke’s Court was adjourned, leaving the grumbling petitioners to try again on Third.

Matt was obviously relieved as they went outside. He stopped for a moment, his eyes focused a thousand yards away. He looked like he was surveying a new world. In a way he was, Ala thought.

If you wish to receive the weekly installment to this story in your inbox, please subscribe to the newsletter below.

Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.

A Night in and Out of Gaol

After having mader their way back up to Peyrepertuse, she bid Gladiuth thanks and goodbye and went back into the depths of the dungeon. Myrthe was still watching over Matt, but it was obvious that she had set the matter straight as far as the dungeon keepers were concerned. They were treating Matt as a valuable asset, rather than the customary, brutal way prisoners were handled. The other prisoners were no longer present, Ala assumed they must have been moved to a different cell. Myrthe had made sure that the Guard Captain was already talking to Matt. It was a smart thing to do, because the wealth of information Matt had in his head was becoming clear to the man. It couldn’t hurt Matt’s chances if the Duke’s Guard wanted what he knew. Myrthe was sitting at the table where the gaolers usually took their meals, drinking watered ale with one of the guards, a middle aged man with a bit of a paunch who looked harried.

“Hey there.”

The guard fairly jumped up. “I apologise milady!”

Ala wondered how he could possibly reach such a conclusion about her heritage, still covered in dirt and grime as she was. It was as if someone had posted a sign on her forehead ever since she had found out herself.

“Relax, guardsman,” she said.

Ala sat down and Myrthe poured some of the watered ale into her cup and gave it to Ala.

“Sit down, for god’s sake,” Ala said to the guardsman, before turning to Myrthe. “Are you satisfied we can leave him here safely for the night?” Ala took a deep sip from the cup.

“Not completely. I think I convinced the Captain to make sure he has a guard tonight. That thief that got away has a lot of reasons to have him killed.”

“If they’re uncertain of his loyalty to the guild, which they will be since he turned on the man that escaped, the whole guild will feel the same way, I imagine. It’s a question of how far their reach is.”

It didn’t look like Myrthe was fully confident Matt would be safe. She had clearly fully taken the young man’s plight to heart after Guanshiyin had demonstrated her favour by healing him.

“It could well be they have agents within the castle walls. Shall we stay here then, just in case?”

Ala looked around the gaol, trying to gauge how she might defend it before she spoke, “it would make me feel better too, I think.”

This idea appeared to perk Myrthe up and relax her. “Shall we? Yes let’s! That idea is making me feel better already. This is Henry by the way.”

She gestured at the guard who had nervously sat down at the table again though he wasn’t really daring to move or speak.

“Hello Henry. I’m Alagariel. Would you please calm down?”

“Just think of the respect you’ll have when you tell them in the barracks that you spent the night drinking ale with two Ladies.”

Myrthe hadn’t helped with her comment. Henry had just bravely been trying to take a sip of his cup of watered ale. It now came out of his nose, which made him even more self-conscious.

“I don’t think that exactly helped to calm him down, Myr.”

The guard Captain came into the guard chamber then, having left his conversation with Matt. He was a man in his mid forties with a neat beard. He was also a knight. Poor Henry had to stand up again.

“Greetings, you must be Lady Alagariel, I’m Captain Jorwyn,” he bowed slightly to her. “Well Lady Myrthe, he’s certainly singing like he’s reformed. Never really known a man to change though, so I’m still suspicious.”

Myrthe replied, “I’m not sure it’s a change. I don’t think he was ever one of those guildsmen in his heart. Guanshiyin would never have saved him if his heart wasn’t true.”

“Well I hope you’re right,” the Captain said dismissively, “but, reformed or not, I too am concerned about the guild attempting to assassinate him down here. I’ve formed a detail of six trusted guardsmen to stand watch.”

“That is very kind of you. Ala and I have decided to stay here tonight too, just in case.”

“This is no place for Ladies…”

“We insist,” Ala said quietly.

It left absolutely no room for discussion. There was a moment of silence.

“Well, I can hardly deny it then, can I? We’ll clear out the next cell and organise some bedrolls and food. The door will stay open of course.”

“Thank you Captain.”

The Captain left them. Henry didn’t dare to sit down without orders apparently, so Myrthe asked him to sit down again. Shortly afterwards a platter of bread, butter, cheese and ham was brought by a servant as well as some more watered ale.

“So we spend a night in gaol.”

“Let’s hope it’s uneventful. So, where did you go today?”

“First, I practised with Gladiuth. Out in the yard.”

“Oh really? Just practised?” Myrthe raised an eyebrow.

“Your mind lives in the gutter. Yes, just practised… he’s interesting actually… just more as a swordsman than anything else. Something strange did happen though.”

“Like what?”

“A sort of trance. We apparently practised for hours. I can recall every second of it, yet it seemed like no time had passed at all. We were so engrossed, that we didn’t even notice that half the court came out to watch, including the Duke himself.”

“Sounds like a kind of sex to me. Bit kinky, with everyone watching…”

Poor Henry just didn’t know what to do with himself. Myrthe took pity on him.

“If our conversation is too unnerving why don’t you take the new decanter of ale and go sit in a cell or something, Henry?”

Henry fled, clutching the ale and his cup to him as he mumbled apologies.

“Where were we?”

“You said it sounded like sex to you. I have only a little experience of that, but I can imagine that if you were completely into someone it might be the same. This was with swords though. Live ones.”

“So a live sword was involved?”

Ala couldn’t help but smile and blush.

“You’re incorrigible, Myr!”

“Just having fun with you. So a sword-fighting trance, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“Gladiuth said he’d experienced it once before in Amahle. With an elven sword master. He called it a Battle-Dance.”

“That I’ve heard of. I’ve read stories about elven battle dancers. They’re said to be the most deadly blade wielders that ever lived. They turned the tide at the battle of Vani-something. I think my grandfather was killed there, in fact.”

“Vanidil, so the Duke said. Your grandfather was killed in battle? Really?”

“A fate that befalls a disproportionate number of nobles. But, to get back to things. You’ve been chatting with the Duke too? Can’t leave you alone for a minute. You didn’t kick the Duke in the nuts too or anything, did you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Well, that’s something, at least. So does this mean you’re a battle dancer now?

“Hardly. I have no idea how I got into that state, only a very slight idea of how to reproduce it even with Gladiuth. No idea how I would do it in a real fight. So, it’s like spotting a glimpse of light in the mist. That’s how it feels, a fleeting glimpse.”

“As usual you are full of surprises. Maybe you just need to want it.”

“I think it’s a little more involved than that. It’s something to study. I may figure it out, or maybe I will find an elf who can teach me more about it. Anyway, after that I went with Gladiuth to see his mother and aunt.”

“You’ve met his mother already, that’s quick going.”

“Stop it. He’s not unattractive, but I don’t think he’s for me.”

“Why not?”

“The idea of him dying centuries before me scares the hell out of me.”

“You don’t have to marry the man, Ala. You are allowed to have fun.”

Ala was silent for a moment.

“I’ll think about it. But anyway, actually speaking to other real live elves was useful and wonderful. Apparently the five elven realms are a bit of a mess at the moment, in the opinion of older elves anyway. The High Throne has been empty for five hundred years and Gladiuth’s family at least, wasn’t happy with the situation.”

“Really? Hmm… it’s never been explained to me that way. I suppose if something has been the same way for five hundred years, humans would see it as a more or less permanent situation. Interesting how points of view differ. What happened to the last High King again?”

“Reputedly slain by demons, opening the way for a demonic invasion of the world. Or something. That’s the popular story… among elves anyway.”

“Well, I haven’t seen that happening yet.”

“Yeah, well who knows what kind of timescales demons… or gods work in.”

“There is that. Are demonic invasions of the world a popular problem, with elves?”

“You’re ridiculing it. If you must know, you know who rid the world of demons the last time?”

“An elf, no doubt.”

“Of course. A Queen the humans call Alagariel.”

Myrthe smiled, “the faerytale. Of course. Well, I can only hope they’re wrong and we won’t be seeing any demons in the short run.”

“I suppose that would be best…”

There was a thunk from the cell where they were to sleep, which was strange. Henry was in there. Ala got up and walked over. Henry was lying on the floor, convulsing, having fallen off the bench where he had been sitting.

“Myrthe, there’s something very wrong.”

Myrthe got up and rushed over, checking Henry’s pulse.

“He’s dead.”

She smelt the cup he had been drinking from.

“It just smells like ale… maybe something. I’d say… maybe nightshade and perhaps some sort of accelerant? Enough to kill a horse. How the hell did they cover the taste of that?”

“Myr, Where in the hell are the guards the Captain was going to send?”

Ala ran back into the cell and grabbed Henry’s keys. She opened the cell door to Matt’s cell.

“Wake up sleepy head. Someone’s coming to kill you.”

“Huh what? Haven’t I done enough today?”

“Well, we’re going to have to do a little more otherwise it will be for nothing. Myrthe bring Henry’s club. Give Matt your riding sword, he’s probably more use with it than you are….”

“I… ehh… daggers… are more my thing…”

“Just take the sword Matt, I don’t have any daggers. You can have my knife, if you must.”

He glanced at the small knife at her belt and shook his head, “hah, I’ll go with the sword, that’s barely a weapon.”

“Right. Myr, Lock Matt’s cell, and let’s bring Henry’s body to the table, put his keys back on his belt.”

“What do you have in mind Ala?”

“We wait until they come, we’ll ambush whoever comes in the door, then we move. Put out some of the torches. Make it dark in here, but not darker than it would be if a gaoler was sleeping. They’ll be looking for three corpses. Matt, put on my cloak, lie down on the floor behind the table. Myrthe, you play dead too.”

They didn’t have to wait long. The outer door wasn’t locked and Ala saw the latch move a few minutes later. The door opened slowly inwards. The first thing she saw was a the tip of a crossbow stick out from the doorway. She was standing with her back to the wall, and her sword high, pointing upwards from her right shoulder. The first intruder crept in, keeping his crossbow shouldered, covering the table, he was wearing a hooded cloak. The crossbows complicated matters, especially since her shield had been left at the temple. The second man came in and began to turn his crossbow towards her. They were certainly well drilled. It decided the matter for her. She dropped her sword level and stuck it through the side of the man’s head at the temple as he was turning towards her. The sound of the blade entering through his skull made slight crunch and the man began to sag. The front man obviously detected something and whirled round. She judged that she wasn’t going to have her blade free of the first man’s head before he brought the crossbow to bear. She flared her flames as hard as she could. In an out of body kind of way she felt the room fill with searing light, a ball of white flame rapidly expanding outward from her. She frantically stopped doing it as she belatedly realised she might hurt Matt and Myrthe. Darkness returned but for some reason the light hadn’t blinded her. The crossbowman was not so lucky. He was weaving around like a drunk, his clothes burning, giving Ala more than enough time to step past him, in case there was a third assassin. Matt and Myrthe had now also started to move. They had had their heads down, so they shouldn’t have been too affected by Ala’s firework display.

Ala turned round. There was indeed a third man in the doorway. He was opening and closing his eyes obviously trying to get his vision back. Ala pushed the man who had been engulfed in her flames forward, towards his companion in the doorway. The man standing there just saw a vague blob coming towards him, and fired his crossbow at it, hitting the man in the chest somewhere. As he toppled over sideways, Ala rushed forward towards the third man. She hoped that was the last of them. She didn’t relish trying to deflect a crossbow bolt with her sword. The man in the doorway thought better of it, dropped his crossbow and started running down the hallway to Ala’s right. She rushed after him, drawing her knife with her left hand. She threw it after the man, but it just missed him and clanged onto the floor as he turned to his left. She decided not to pursue, reminding herself of Bernard’s lessons – the prize was keeping Matt alive, not catching the thieves. She quickly walked back to the gaol. Myrthe had lighted all the torches they had extinguished earlier. Both the crossbowmen were dead.

“Third one got away,” Ala said as she came in. They could hear sounds of armoured men running.

Matt looked at the two of them, the tension he was feeling was obvious. “Being a Guildsman is much safer than being a former Guildsman. People have tried to kill me twice today.”

“I’m not sure what time it is. If it’s just after midnight, then the first time was yesterday, just so you can whine about the right things,” said Myrthe, looking annoyed.

“Grab that crossbow, would you Myr, and use the table for cover. If that other table isn’t too charred, maybe you can do the same with that one, Matt. I assume the sound of running men I hear are guards, but we can’t be certain.”

It turned out the be the captain with four guardsmen. The Captain was flushed as he rushed in and stopped abruptly, looking surprised as he was facing the two crossbows. Ala was at her spot next to the door.

“Hello Captain. Nice to have you back.” said Ala.

“You’re all alive. Thank Belus! What happened?”

He was obviously looking at the blackened marks on the wall, floor and the charring on one of the corpses.

Myrthe answered, “not all of us. Henry is dead. The jug of watered ale that came with the bread was poisoned and the poor bastard drank first. Shortly after, we were attacked by three crossbowmen. One of them got away.”

“A servant raised the alarm when he found two guardsmen with their throats cut in a side passage. I came immediately. What happened to the floor?”

Ala shrugged. The captain eyed Matt, with a crossbow and a riding sword, but didn’t say anything. The guards the Captain had brought were the remaining four that had been scheduled to do guard shifts.

“With all due respect Captain. It appears to me that the Thieves’ Guild is well infiltrated throughout Duilhac and even here in Castle Peyrepertuse. Might I suggest we try a different approach for safety? Myrthe and I will stay with Matt, but not here. We won’t leave Peyrepertuse, but perhaps it’s best if we find a place to spend the night which we don’t advertise to the rest of the castle?”

The Captain clearly didn’t much like it, but seemed to realise he didn’t have much choice as the security of his gaol had just been proven to be less than perfect.

“I would like to send at least one guard with you. I will need to go and tell the Duke what is going on in his Castle.”

“Alright. One guard. I pick, uhm… him.”

Ala randomly pointed out one of the four men with her sword.

“Rufus, stay with them, guard them with your life.”

“Yes Captain.”

They left the Captain and his guards. Matt had salvaged some equipment from the two dead would-be assassins. He knew exactly where they kept the tools he was looking for. He swiftly stored the lock picks and a few other items the purpose of which wasn’t clear to Ala. Taking a roundabout route around the castle grounds and trying to make sure no one was following them, they sat down in one of the arches on the inside of the outer wall on the side of the castle that was facing away from the city. It was a quiet part of the castle at any time, especially in the middle of the night. Only a lookout occasionally made his round along the battlements above. Ala took some time observing the area around them, but there was no sign that anyone had seen where they went and she could see no one at all moving around. She looked at her companions. Matt was still psyched from the night’s exertions. Perhaps it was simply that he would have to explain himself at the Duke’s court within a few hours? It would be enough to make Ala very nervous too. Matt fidgeted nervously, glancing about every few seconds.

Myrthe was chatting softly with Rufus. Ala decided she would lie down and meditate. Thankfully, there were no further incidents before dawn came. Precisely when dawn came was difficult to judge as the bulk of the castle blocked their view of the rising sun. The Duke’s court was scheduled to begin just after breakfast. Ala had been awake for hours and had been watching the denizens of the castle began their daily rituals. She’d managed to rest relatively well despite the discomfort of doing so while wearing her mail. The others hadn’t managed a lot of sleep. When Ala judged it time, she had Rufus lead them to the kitchens. Their arrival caused a bit of a flutter among the serving staff, as they made their way through, getting in the way of the morning rush.

“I don’t care who you are, milady, you have no business stomping through my kitchen!”

A large round woman wearing a well used leather apron over a simple brown kirtle blocked their advance. She had red cheeks and brown hair under a cap and her expression brooked no discussion. Ala decided she must be rather brave, or maybe the woman just defended the kitchen with her life, no matter how well armed or noble an intruder might be.

“I’m sorry, mistress, but strange as it may seem, we are on the Duke’s business. I need to be able to select some fare for my companions and myself without interference.”

The round woman showed no sign of caving to Ala’s wishes. A boy, a paige of some sort came up behind her and whispered into the woman’s ear. Her eyes went wide.

“I’m sorry, ladies. I don’t like people messing around my kitchen. Please tell me what you need.”

Ala moved closer to the woman so that people around couldn’t overhear.

“Cook, I assume you are the cook?”

The woman nodded.

“Last night, the thieves’ guild managed to infiltrate the castle.”

The revelation clearly didn’t surprise the cook. In a whisper she said, “they can get everywhere, milady, like rats.”

“Well this time they managed to poison a guard by mixing nightshade into the man’s ale. I just need to be able to select some foods for us that no one could have known beforehand would be consumed by us.”

The round woman had keen eyes, she nodded, clearly understanding why at once.

“Alright, I understand milady. Take what you need.”

Ala picked various foods for them, more or less at random, to make sure no one could bring them anything poisoned. Ala thanked the cook and apologised again for disrupting everything, who pointed out an area where they could sit and eat. They sat down in a corner of the kitchen and ate quietly. Ala was still making certain to keep careful tabs on their surroundings, but thankfully no one leapt down from the rafters to try and kill Matt.

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