Date: Mon, 2 Feb 2004 18:17:21 -0800 (PST)
From: Kris Gibbons <bookwyrm6@yahoo.com>
Subject: SongSpell-25

This story is a work of fiction. It contains descriptions of violent
behaviour between adults, references to violent behaviour between adults
and children, and expressions of physical affection. If you find this type
of story offensive, or if you are underage and it is illegal for you to
read it, please exit now. All characters are fictional and in no way
related to any persons living or deceased. Any such similarity is purely
coincidental and uncanny.

This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be reproduced in any
form without the specific written consent of the author. It is assigned to
the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines but
it may not be copied or archived to any other site without the direct
consent of the author.

I can be contacted at Bookwyrm6@yahoo.com

Copyright 2003 Kristopher R. Gibbons All rights reserved by the author.

I want to thank Rob for his editing help, his keen eye, and his helpful
suggestions.


                    25 The Abstract and Brief Chronicles

                    Do you hear? Let them be well used,
                    For they are the abstract and brief chronicles
                    of the time.
                        Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2, Line 534 ff.


     Two days later, Kri-estaul received his first unexpected visitor.
     "My Lord, he does not insist on it, but most humbly hopes for your
good will to be so demonstrated," Ierwbae reported.
     Kri-estaul frowned, mulish obstinacy writ in every line of his
face. The flux had been a singular event, and he had begun eating gruel and
drinking wine diluted with boiled water and honey. This advance in his own
condition did not impress him, as he had learned in the under-grounds to
treat his body as an adversary, prone to sudden betrayals. And he still had
to take Aldul's potions, but no longer from Aldul's hand.
     "Kri-estaul, I mislike this. It is not safe. He may be harmless and
well intentioned, but you cannot be certain."
     "Papa, he likes me. He asked to see me. He's your mama's friend, isn't
he?"
     "Yes. Yes, he is." Evendal sat quietly, considering both his
obligation and his responsibility toward his son's safety. "I shall retire
to the next room, if I can satisfy myself as to his sense and
humour. However, should I hear your heart beat out of kilter, he shall not
know his next breath."
     "Papa, that is foolish."
     "Resign yourself to it."
     "I wish you wouldn't leave."
     "Good. I may choose not to." Evendal smiled to let his son know that
while serious, he was not angry. He turned to Ierwbae. "Bid him enter and
be welcome, but beg his escort to wait just inside the door."
     Ierwbae nodded to Falrija by the doorway, who disappeared only to
return with the callers. "Gwl-lethry aghd Gilbrahalnir and his chamberlain
Hawl-metthrh pire'Gwl-lethry."
     Obedient to the Royal will, the younger Hawl-metthrh remained by the
entrance, but her eyes never left her charge.
     If possible, Gwl-lethry's eyes looked even more sunken. His pallor
remained, this time markedly natural. The bow he performed came off
respectful but without flourish.
     "Gwl-lethry," Evendal acknowledged, permitting the man speech.
     "Your Majesty." He bowed a second time. "Your Highness,"
     A pause. No one knew quite what to do or say.
     Finally, Evendal had had enough. "Good Gwl-lethry, forgive the
familiarity, but you look worse than when I released you from
detention. Wherefore?"
     "Nerves, Your Majesty. And that is why I appreciate your graciousness
in permitting me this audience."
     "After brief consideration, We realised We are indebted to you. And
that you sought converse with Our son is itself worthy of exploration. But
We ask you to elaborate on your too terse rejoinder."
     "Your Majesty, I found I could not maintain my customary
disposition. It may seem a paltry incidental to you, but my life is
precious to me and to the many that feed on me. Not knowing the colour or
mettle of the Majesty so newly advanced has preyed much on my mind. I made
desperate enquiry and found, in the main, two contradictory reports of your
nature. In one you are a usurper most ruthless and unpredictable, without
mercy or shame. A creature of frightening untested powers and warped
intent, making a mockery of the memory of a once-loved House."
     Evendal ald'Menam grinned. "Of course We are. And We have a fair idea
of which tongues wag in such a manner. And the other report?"
     "The greater numbers happily acknowledge you Menam's son and heir. Our
deliverer and defender felicitously returned. And ascribe all assertions of
ungovernable powers to the wonder of your golden gaze."
     "And what say you?"
     But Gwl-lethry would not be drawn into an indiscretion. "I have not
garnered sufficient intelligence to profess an opinion, Your Majesty."
     "An opinion does not require information, but We shall not press."
After another pause, Evendal added, "You have a request or question of Us."
     "Yes, Your Majesty. You surprised me in publishing a report on my
mistaken detention. Detailing your error and culpability. Announcing me
blameless." The manorlord yet hesitated.
     "You are troubled."
     "I do not understand what game you play."
     "The game of kingship, Gwl-lethry. The penultimate responsibility. It
is as We told you: We are responsible for Our decisions. No one else
is. And We unjustly detained you, with near-mortal consequences."
     Gwl-lethry stared into Evendal's luminous gaze. "There is nothing
behind your words that is not within your words. Is there?"
     "No."
     "And you truly do not intend, plan, or sanction mischief or threat to
me or mine."
     "I and We truly do not. We wish you all good; health and wholeness."
     Gwl-lethry shook his head in incomprehension, but the cant of his
shoulders changed, relaxing. "As I, in verity and however futilely, wish
for your son." He turned, after casting an enquiring look and receiving a
nod in return, to Kri-estaul. "Your Highness, when I heard of your change
of residence, I came as soon as I dared, fearing it signified..." he
struggled for the appropriate words "a reckless resignation. That your
health had turned ill and His Majesty wanted your last hours. I am happy to
see that this is not so."
     "I am better," Kri-estaul responded. He glanced up at his father, as
if searching for some idea what to say to this man. "I was not certain, but
today my tummy feels better than it ever has. And I don't feel the pain in
my acorns like I had."
     After his initial shock at the circumlocution, Gwl-lethry struggled
against an almost hysterical mirth. "That is good to hear. Your Highness
and Your Majesty would not believe the reports circulating. One or two had
Niem Dir attacking you and your Guard, suffering the loss of her sons and
killing Your Highness in the conflict."
     Kri-estaul closed his eyes, cudgelling his memory. "She was here... I
think. I don't recall her well, unless she was the one who got angry a
lot."
     "Yes, Kri. That was she," Evendal confirmed, still agrin. "That sounds
like choice entertainment, Gwl-lethry. In truth, We restored her surviving
daughter to her, and acceded to her manipulation to make Us Lord of the
Eastern Dark."
     Gwl-lethry could not hide his shock. "She gave over her autonomy?"
     "'Twas not her intent but it proved the sum of it, yes. So that she
might be free of her persecutors. We, in turn, confirmed her in her fee as
Our liegeman. She remains Warden, under Our observance." Evendal moved away
from that subject. "We are surprised to see you so hard upon Our last
meeting. What is toward?"
     The Lord of the Tinde'keb frowned. "I have already confessed my
purposes. I... that is..." he did not continue.
     "Aldul is an eagle for vision," Evendal grinned ruefully. "We have
utterly confounded you, have We not, Gwl-lethry? You feared to sleep. You
feared even to rest. You anticipated your sudden death, a knife in the
dark, an unexpected 'bandit' attack, sponsored by Us or Our subordinates."
     "Aye, Your Majesty," Gwl-lethry whispered, eyes all but
protruding. Such a confession insulted the honour of this ruler, providing
all the excuse for reincarceration and retribution Evendal could want.
     Evendal took no umbrage. "Our friend Aldul of Kwo-eda foresaw this. If
We were to act in such a way, it would not be secret for long. We would
then be kinless and friendless, for without hesitation Kri-estaul would
either be back with his sister or a guest of the Archate, renouncing all
remembrance of Us. Alekrond would be assaulting Our port, Sygkorrin would
refuse Us Aldul's presence, and the Stone-haulers would permit no
embassy. The Typika would be goading her students to works of subtle
criticism of Us and Our Rule. Bruddbana would return to alehouse dwelling,
and the Guard to its anarchical self-interest."
     "Your Majesty..."
     "Yes, We jest. But We also speak the truth. Gwl-lethry, else We wanted
to destroy all We have fashioned, We would leave you in peace and
safety. Apropos of that... Are you come for your hominium?"
     Gwl-lethry stared at Kri-estaul more than at Evendal. "Aye, Your
Majesty."
     Evendal m'Alismogh left the quiet alone. When Gwl-lethry frowned
again, the King broke the silence. "Come closer." When the lord of the
Tinde'keb obeyed, Evendal grinned lightly. "Tarry a moment or more,
Gwl-lethry. You came, ostensibly, to visit us both. As the visit was a
surprise to Us, let Us make Our simple preparations. Stay with Kri-estaul,
while We confer with Our Guard." He indicated a chair beside the bed, near
the wall. "Sit and stay seated, while I step away."
     To the confoundment of both Gwl-lethry and an alarmed Kri-estaul,
Evendal stood. "Papa?"
     The King pecked his son on the lips. "Relax, my son. Though I will not
leave the room, I deem Gwl-lethry fit company for us both."
     "Your Majesty..." Gwl-lethry moved to take Evendal's arm, to halt his
departure, then thought better of the gesture. "A moment, please. I learned
most of what passed here a few days gone."
     "You speak of?"
     "Niem Dir's newly restored burden and sorrow."
     Lord Evendal signalled for Ierwbae. "Acquire however many Guard you
need. Request Aldul, Heamon, and the Quillmaster, retrieve Eirath-harl, and
ask the Mistress of the Oaks if she would send a witness for Tinde'keb's
investiture."
     Ierwbae nodded and hurried out, replaced by Falrija.
     Evendal turned back to his guest. "Ah. Then Niem Dir is no beggar for
friends, is she?"
     Gwl-lethry visibly hesitated. "Niem Dir and I once shared a like
purpose and duty. My respect for her is dwarfed only by my love for... your
own mother."
     Evendal grinned gently. "And it is on this duty and purpose that you
would speak with me." He looked down at an alert Kri-estaul. "So, an
audience with Our son was but the cloak in which you wrap your true
intent?"
     The young man shook his head vigorously. "No, Your Majesty. No, Your
Highness. Your Majesty... Your Majesty, I am gambling on your mansuetude,
pity, and magnanimity. And I must have more to hope in than wild tales and
the bitter hyperbole of my more bile-filled peers! They deserve better than
the work camp or the under-grounds." The man's voice rose with each word,
anxiety fuelling him.
     "Peace," Evendal interjected. "Calmly, good Gwl-lethry. 'They' who?"
     "But... did you not speak with Niem Dir? Did you not question her
on...?" Gwl-lethry's stare turned incredulous, horrified. "Your Majesty,
you do know that the Archate Orphanage is near empty, do you not?"
     The King hardly considered Gwl-lethry's seeming non sequitur, simply
reflecting that such a circumstance would be short-lived with so many newly
made widows and orphans. He then reminded himself that nine years had
passed. "What? But what of the families decimated by Mausna?"
     "The Wise Counsellor considered them his wards, but not in order to
release them to the King's Cinqet."
     "His damnable wall!"
     Gwl-lethry nodded. "Who speaks for the Stone-haulers?"
     "One called Jaserle,"
     The lord of the Tinde'keb nodded again, regaining a measure of
calm. "Good man. I remember him well, and his late wife."
     And just as quickly, Evendal knew where their conversation was
moving. "You and the Warden of the Eastern Dark? With the consent of the
Stone-haulers? What did you?"
     "When first the conscripts guessed their condition, that death alone
would free them from their lot, they tried to rebel. But they had no unity;
their attempts were fitful, with only rare successful escapes. The one
concern they all shared was the survival of the children among them. But
not as t'bo. Those I could communicate with were unanimous that, if their
children escaped to the same estate into which Polgern had placed the
parents and guardians, better they all die together. Not everyone said it
so clearly or kindly, but none disagreed."
     "And they felt the same toward those so recently orphaned?"
     Gwl-lethry grinned, an expression without levity. "Only those who
acknowledged the impossibility of their own escape. In the face of their
own immediate peril, many felt little compassion for those who lost their
families in a war that meant nothing to them."
     "Now that I can readily believe."
     "But the majority of voices, I mean those few able to smuggle messages
out of the camp, begged that the same effort go toward rescuing the
orphans. It was my own demand that if any orphans were to be included, then
all orphans must be. No casting lots or judging one unfit or another
undeserving. Surprisingly, Niem Dir agreed."
     "How did you manage? Horest kept detailed records and expected the
same of his minions."
     "But his attention was all for the logistics of his wall, and his
underlings were not prepared to do any more than was required of
them. Until the camp... warden personally received some written directive
that those under the age of majority were accounted the same status as the
adult conscripts, no one wanted to expend the effort making a tally of
them, their use-names, or their numbers."
     "That could not have allowed you much time."
     The lord of the Tinde'keb chuckled with genuine amusement. "You would
be surprised, as I was. Horest was a... a mechanism. And obsessed with
exactitude. This wall was the most ambitious stonework since the Kwo-edan
canal. His numbers -- of manpower, of stones needed, of time required --
never agreed. Each time he calculated, the results differed too drastically
for his satisfaction. In this we had no hand, but rather the perverse hand
of Ir worked for us."
     "You would not be apprising Us of this unless you were successful."
     Gwl-lethry nodded. "And the Lady Sygkorrin told you nothing of this?"
     Evendal gaped. "She got involved?"
     "Of course! We could hardly evacuate all those minors else we wanted
permanent residence in the under-grounds. As it was, Niem Dir came under
constant covert attack due to her sovereignty. Had Polgern thought me less
pliable than I seemed, or less simple, I would have been under siege by his
Guard, and all our work undone."
     "What passed?"
     Gwl-lethry's face turned quickly sombre, a mask of gravity easily
managed with its haggard look. "A great and terrible affliction. Perhaps
the close concentration of all those people with different habits of
cleanliness was to blame, but a disease struck the work camp. It assailed
the younger population almost exclusively. The Temple had not seen anything
like it since the Nikraan Advent."
     "Most likely, that is quite true," Evendal observed dryly.
     Gwl-lethry shook his head. "They did, in truth, suffer a few deaths of
children, beside those from malnutrition and dehydration. Influenza,
measles and chickenpox swept through the camp. In the face of such poor
conditions, no one had any way of surviving the outbreaks. The
Stone-haulers simply took advantage of their gaolers' disgust and fear of
contagion. After the first few ravaged bodies, none of those responsible
got too close to the presumed corpses that the Archate priests retrieved
for isolated burning."
     "And were the Temple's number of underage dependents to suddenly
increase, Horest and Polgern would know themselves outmanoeuvred and would
retaliate," Evendal added, seeing one obvious danger in their task.
     "Yes. So Niem Dir made provision for them in her domain. Until her
eldest learned of her subterfuge."
     "He must have learned very little, else word of all this would have
come to me sooner."
     Ierwbae returned and nodded from the doorway, indicating success. As
quietly as he could, he proceeded to arrange chairs along the wall and
facing the beds.
     "Only that she harboured fugitives in goodly numbers, and where. He
had no patience and felt no need to wait on more. When she realised her
home had been compromised, Niem Dir had the orphans herded toward Alta. She
had some of her merchandise boats, wide shallow-water vessels, waiting at a
ford of the Kerilawyn River, to take the children back to where the
Kerilawyn touches my own lands. The main of their escort, however,
continued right up unto the borders of the Freelands, and then dispersed to
find individual ways home."
     Both Evendal and Kri-estaul listened quietly, stunned by the audacity
of the effort. "Would it not have been wiser to have them all continue on
to Alta?"
     Gwl-lethry shook his head. "Reaching the Kerilawyn tested the limits
of the younglings' strength and patience. Many were too young to grasp the
danger that they were in, or the danger they posed for the others if some
abandoned the assembly to eventually get 'found.' As it was, two children
died of a fever brought on by their own bodies' exhaustion and the pace of
the journey. A few were set upon by the wildlife: snakes, boar, and what
one escort swore was a ralur. Their fear kept them from traipsing off but
made them harder to deal with."
     "Neither the Temple nor the Dark informed me of this enterprise,"
Evendal commented, after Gwl-lethry had finished. His voice held both
suspicion and affront. "But I should have perceived..."
     "What?" Kri-estaul asked.
     Evendal thought aloud. "With over half of the traditional workers for
the docks and guilds and common labour-force dead, the kingdom had only two
alternatives: the women and men who never went to Mausna, and the
children. I'll wager that Polgern turned to the Orphanage for youth labour
because most of the families in the Agora had already made their own
children their principal providers. He dared not summarily claim those
under age from modestly prosperous families; it would have destroyed an
already beleaguered mainstay to our financial survival. And when fewer
visitors and merchant ships came, warned away by our reputation for
press-ganging and arbitrary detention, work positions dwindled, wages fell,
and child workers willing to labour in the markets and manors for a
pittance became even more vital."
     "What?" the child asked.
     "Yes," Gwl-lethry affirmed. "For safeguarding the orphans and the
soon-to-be orphans, I could have been thrown into the under-grounds for
crimes against the commonweal."
     "One or two matters remain unclear to Us," Evendal insisted. "We
cannot believe that the Wise Counsellor and his Shadow-Beast honoured the
boundaries and autonomy of any of the manorlords, or of the Dark for that
matter. Surely your lands were explored and perused more than once."
     The Lord of the Tinde'keb turned laconic. "Yes" was all the answer
he'd give. "Your Majesty, what would you regarding these children?" He sat
stiffly, his tired face sagging under lines of sober tension.
     "That is your question? Let Us ask one in turn. What would you have Us
do, Gwl-lethry? They have been the responsibility of your demesne. We see
no reason why, provided they are well and well cared for, We need act at
all. Except to confirm you in your offices and lands, if you will it."
     "Your Majesty is toying with me,"
     Evendal frowned. "Kri-estaul can bear witness, Tinde'keb, that that is
one behaviour you will never see from Us. We may test people, but We never
act or speak from malice."
     When the manorlord hesitated, Evendal pursued. "Gwl-lethry aghd
Gilbrahalnir, what is Our name?" The man opened his mouth to begin, and the
King anticipated him. "Laying aside Our nobility and graces, what are We
called?"
     Gwl-lethry stared the King in his burnished golden eyes and answered,
"You are named Evendal ald'Menam y Wytthenroeg."
     "Why is it so hard for you to allow Us that lineage? We are not the
son of Morruth, nor the son of Lukaad. If We knew of a way to honour you
that your pride would accept, it would already be accomplished. If We
thought you would stand for it We would have your subterfuge heralded
throughout the City and the Woods, an accolade to your courage, your heart.
     "To the best of Our integrity and powers, We gave Niem Dir back her
heart's desire: her land and what family she would claim and care for. Were
it within the compass of Our authority, We would have restored her eldest
daughter whole and unharrowed, but it is not. What would you? Is there
naught We can aid you in?"
     "Your Majesty, I did not aid in the rescue of those children for the
reward or honours I might garner."
     "You're not listening!" Kri-estaul blurted out. Just as suddenly,
dismayed at his own forwardness, he hitched the counterpane past his
shoulder and tried to hide. He did not understand all of the argument, but
he knew his father wished to help this man, and the man kept balking. He
could sense Gwl-lethry's fear, almost like a haze around the thin,
fastidious man. And he could feel his father's frustration, a tension
coursing from the hand that rested beside him. When Evendal stroked his
hair, Kri-estaul flinched.
     Gwl-lethry halted the words waiting on the tip of his tongue, took in
the demoralised child and the scowling father before him, and
reconsidered. Unlike with the Lord Evendal ald'Menam, what rumours he had
caught regarding Kri-estaul agd'Emmas-dawyl meh'Kohermarthen y Inosien yn
Keh'my-ralur, pier'Evendalh, all had the odour of truth. Cute but kind with
it, and the apple of the King's sunlike eye. No one doubted the child's
identity, or what he had survived. He deserved any honour or accommodation
that could be fashioned.
     "Forgive me, Your Highness. My apologies, Your Majesty. You are quite
right. It is hard to credit how everything has changed. That we are no
longer under siege from our own." Gwl-lethry took a deep breath, with
deliberately exaggerated noise, striving to underscore a change in
demeanour. Evendal declined his head in a gesture toward his son.
     "Will you accept my apology, my mortification for having rended your
heart's ease? That was not my hope for this visit."
     Kri-estaul peeked to see how Evendal was responding when he heard no
reply, and shuddered to learn that the courtier was not addressing his
father. "Me?" Gwl-lethry nodded solemnly. "Yes, if you want."
     Seeing the boy's continued discomfort, Gwl-lethry turned his attention
back to the King. "Your Majesty, at this time I cannot name a need of mine
that others do not share. Nor could I stomach an acknowledgement, any
making merry over an ordeal that stemmed from and caused such great pain
and distress. It would feel more like punishment than reward."
     "How do you tend them? We presume you are, indeed, the shepherd for
the flock."
     "I was given to understand that the Lady Sygkorrin briefed you on the
particulars of my final disposition."
     "Only in your making Wytthenroeg your heir should your death precede
hers. And her children inheritors should you survive her."
     "That was only the initial arrangement. Wytthenroeg, yes. But we had
already arranged for her children to refuse procuratorship. Your Majesty,
would you see fit to extend the grace of your audience to my companion,
both you and your son?"
     "Most certainly. Ierwbae?" The Guard escorted the young woman, who
lowered into a deep courtesy. When Evendal raised her up, she bowed her
head and quickly moved to stand behind Gwl-lethry's chair.
     "Your Majesty, might I present and acquaint you with my daughter
Hawl-metthrh?"
     "You may indeed. Be welcome before Us this day, Hawl-metthrh."
     The young woman, with an exotic mix of blonde hair accenting the
Hramal pitch-brown, stared with frank anxiety into Evendal's glow before
realising her gaffe and bowing her head in acknowledgement.
     "Your Highness, might I present and acquaint you with my daughter
Hawl-metthrh?"
     Again, faced with a surprising sight, Hawl-metthrh paused; and though
she recovered better than the first time, her delay had been obvious.
     Wide-eyed, an already unnerved Kri-estaul opened his mouth to respond,
but no words emerged. His face reddened from the struggle to keep his
emotions corralled.
     The silence extended until Evendal interceded. "Kri-estaul, look at
me."
     As the child turned his head to obey, his control left him. "I told
you! I told you! I'm ugly! Freakish! I shouldn't be living." Tears cascaded
down his temples as he tugged at a pillow to cover his head.
     "Oh, no, little..." Hawl-metthrh began then stopped, fearful of
further royal displeasure for breaching custom and speaking without
sanction.
     Evendal held the pillow away. "Kri-estaul, look at me. No, don't hide,
precious one. Never hide from me. Don't. Don't. Now, look closely. Look
well. Take a breath. Good, and another. Now. Look. What do you see?"
     "I... I don't know." Kri-estaul didn't want to answer.
     "Do you see any regret?" The glow to Evendal's eyes increased. He
lifted Kri-estaul's chin when dread and shame weighted it down. "Do you?"
     "No." The Prince was not about to let go of his doubts and pain so
readily.
     "No. Do you see any disgust? Any?" For everyone else, Evendal's face
became difficult to focus on.
     As one trapped, though no coercion held him, Kri-estaul continued to
stare. After a moment in which he held his breath, the boy answered with a
sobbing "No."
     "No. Nor will you." Now Evendal glanced toward the lord of the
Tinde'keb, who nodded encouragement. "Ever. Now look to Gwl-lethry."
     Uncertain, embarrassed, Kri-estaul complied.
     "Look well, my Prince. What do you see?" Gwl-lethry asked,
curious. The impassioned exchange had calmed him, reassured him as no royal
protestations could have.
     The child blurted out, "You are afraid."
     That clearly surprised the distressed lord. "Of you?"
     "No. I don't know what you are afraid of. But you worry for
Hawl-mettray." Kri-estaul had trouble saying the woman's name.
     "But what about you?" Gwl-lethry asked hurriedly. "Let me suggest, and
you tell me if I am honest. You see sadness?"
     "Yes."
     "You see..."
     "You really do like me!" Kri-estaul interrupted. At this point
Kri-estaul's misery had abated, subsumed by wonder.
     "Yes, I truly do. Now, can you look at Hawl-metthrh and tell me what
you see?"
     "Do I have to?" Kri-estaul whined, fearful.
     Gwl-lethry grinned slightly. "I think so. I know what you will find,
but you yourself need to do the finding, young Prince. Hawl-metthrh?"
     With even more trepidation, Kri-estaul looked into Hawl-metthrh's grey
eyes, flinching at first contact. After two forced, sodden breaths, the
child whispered, "You don't... you don't think I'm a freak? Useless?"
     "No, of course not." Her hand rushed to cover her mouth in
dismay. "Forgive me, Your Majesty!" Evendal waved aside any concern over
court manners. Reassured, Hawl-metthrh continued, "When I saw you for the
first time I was amazed. My first thought was that you must be in a lot of
pain. Are you?"
     "Just my tailbone. But Papa will move me more on my side soon. Uncle
Aldul has these drinks. They taste nasty but they make the pain go away."
     Gwl-lethry smiled. "Your Majesty, may I present her to you as my
choice for heir of the Tinde'keb?"
     "Most certainly! Are you prepared?" When Gwl-lethry nodded, Evendal
signalled Ierwbae.
     The Guard took his cue. "Your Majesty, Aldul of the Archate and
Paramenate Temples, Matron Drussilikh Quillmaster, scribal assistant
Lialityne olm'Eruidin, Eirath-harl Heir to the Wardship of the Eastern
Dark, and Aikathemi proxy for the Mistress of Oaks desire to attend you."
     "Bid them enter, be most welcome, and be seated."
     With proper gravity, Ierwbae obeyed. Aikathemi proved a young man with
grey-hued brown hair and a wooden post in place of a left calf and
foot. Eirath-harl, with Niar-lles shadowing, walked in with eyes wide and
fearful, but sat down where Falrija indicated without word or
hesitation. Drussilikh arrived carrying the tools of her profession. When
all were seated, Ierwbae stepped up to his liege, bowed, and offered a
cloth bundle. Evendal jammed it between himself and the side of his
chair. The Guard then retreated to the door.
     After a pause of two steadying breaths, Gwl-lethry arose from his seat
and pulled out a thin wooden baton strapped to his side. He knelt before
Evendal and proffered the baton. The King of Osedys took up the offering,
displaying a grip that had been carved in the form of some bird. After
assuring that all had seen the staff surrendered to him, Evendal stood,
turned about, and cast it into the active hearth on the other side of
Kri-estaul's bed. The old festuca relinquished and Gwl-lethry's former
oaths now void, Evendal sat down again.
     "Gwl-lethry aghd Gilbrahalnir, do you wish, without reserve, to become
Our man?"
     "I wish it. Receive me, August Majesty, with my fief, which is subject
to you. Of my own free will, I place myself at your service." Thus saying,
Gwl-lethry clasped his hands and placed them between Evendal's.
     "I do receive you," Evendal affirmed. "Be a good and true vassal to
me, and I shall be a generous and kind lord to you." As Evendal spoke,
completing the homage, Hawl-metthrh knelt. Then, as Gwl-lethry stretched
back his hand to place it on Hawl-metthrh's head, likewise Evendal leaned
to his side to lay his hand on Kri-estaul's. "This I pledge by all that I
value."
     "This I so pledge, by all that I value," Gwl-lethry echoed.
     Then did they exchange kisses, sealing the fealty.
     "Gwl-lethry agdh Gilbrahalnir, will you accept from Our hand the care
of the Tinde'keb, in token of which We offer this sign?" Thus saying,
Evendal drew a new baton from the cloth wrapping at his side and held it
out.
     "As your man, I shall," Gwl-lethry avowed, taking up the baton and
sealing the investiture.
     "So do We confirm you in your offices, Our man, and lord of the Tinde
lands. Stand now before your peers, liegeman Gwl-lethry. Stand now beside
your lord and father, Hawl-metthrh pire Gwl-lethry, as his heir, so
acknowledged by Us," Evendal bade. Only with his Lord's assist was a weary
Gwl-lethry able to rise and give the proper honours.
     "Welcome back into our lists a man of uncommon heart and valour. Our
brother in faithfulness," Evendal declaimed. "If all of you would let
Falrija guide you, Mistress Shulro has baked some delectations that you may
accept as Our gratitude for responding to Our call. Enjoy them if you wish,
and so mark the sweetness of the occasion."
     Drussilikh, disdaining the offered diversion but with a nod to
Evendal, took her chair to the far side of Kri-estaul's bed and sat beside
him. Aldul stood and waited for the King to acknowledge him. Evendal waved
him over and pulled him into an embrace when he stared to bow.
     "Don't do that to me. Please!" Evendal hissed. "You're not a courtier,
and I am not your King."
     Aldul smiled, the widest smile Evendal had ever witnessed on
him. "Your Majesty. Evendal. You are still a king. Do not be so troubled, I
was prepared to greet my friend after I honoured the King."
     Evendal ald'Menam flushed, aware he had, again, shown his ineptitude
in social matters.
     "Have you need?" the Kwo-edan asked.
     "Not at the moment."
     "Then permit me to take advantage of Shulro's bounty, and I shall
return after."
     "Of course. You ever have Our grace and favour."
     "Your Highness," Gwl-lethry enquired, "is your stomach hale enough to
partake of such offerings? I could retrieve a few."
     Kri-estaul looked to Evendal who shook his head. "Not yet."
     "Hawl-metthrh, how long did you endure the Orphanage?" the King
enquired.
     "Since I claimed seven years."
     "And you have over fourteen, now?"
     "I have sixteen years, Your Majesty, the last three under my lord
Gwl-lethry's prodigal forbearance."
     Evendal smiled at the courtier, moving Gwl-lethry to respond. "Niem
Dir and I took advantage of a hierarchy of command as already existed among
the children, Your Majesty. One wherein Hawl-metthrh had found herself the
head. She has long known her value in my sight, Your Majesty. I merely
learned of her virtues rather than engendering them."
     "What say you, Hawl-metthrh? What of the adults given charge of you in
the Orphanage? Had they no one of courage and perception to protect you as
their commission required?"
     Looking back and forth from the King to her immediate lord constantly,
Hawl-metthrh sought to provide as inoffensive an answer as she could. "One
there was, Your Majesty. A good and kind man given to brainstorms without
warning, and thus kept from the muster for Mausna. Had he not been given
the assignment of labour in the Warren, more would have died and
earlier. He... he did not survive the camp, Your Majesty, despite our
sincerest efforts."
     "The Warren?"
     "So we called the Orphanage, Your Majesty. No disrespect meant."
     Evendal noticed a man keeping Ierwbae company by the door. All set to
vent his wrath, the King had to choke and swallow on the words he had ready
as he belatedly recognised Aikathemi, proxy for Pohul-halik.
     "None taken," Evendal rasped, still striving to relax his throat. "We
imagine the tag was apt." The Guard had approached. "Yes, Ierwbae?"
     "Your Majesty, two matters. Aikathemi, Rowan Master of the Woodwose
and deputy of Pohul-halik, requests the honour of meeting His Royal
Highness as well as the grace of your congress."
     "And the second concern?"
     "Guard Mulienhas would present the fruits of their search for the
three Guard of uncertain allegiance, implicated by Frichestah. The Lady
Sygkorrin offers an identical entreaty."
     "Interesting. Have them tarry a while, and have their comforts seen
to."
     Ierwbae nodded and bowed before retreating.
     "Your Majesty, as this is proving a fulsome hour for visitations,
permit us to retire and return to make our felicitations at a better time."
     Evendal scowled and shook his head. "No. As pinnacle of Osedys, no
better hour shall ever present itself. Relax, good Gwl-lethry and gentle
Hawl-metthrh, and know that you are among people who wish you nothing but
good. Were the weather kinder on distressed bones, we would be entertaining
Pohul-halik herself, for she is much taken with my son's sweet nature and
blunt manner. Such is her concern that she... Well, you shall see anon. But
we were speaking of your rescue of our home's future. Continue, please."
     Gwl-lethry and Hawl-metthrh glanced at each other. "We do not know
what you would have of us, Your Majesty."
     "Let me tell you what I have gleaned, from both your words and your
silences, and you may correct my sense."
     Uncertain of the point of this exercise, Gwl-lethry cleared his throat
uncomfortably. "As you will, Your Majesty."
     "That Hawl-metthrh is not your daughter by birth or blood is
evident. That she has shackled your heart in the same manner Kri-estaul
owns mine is not in doubt either. We see before Us the reason that
Polgern's unannounced searches and invasions found nothing in the Tinde'keb
and the Dark. Hawl-metthrh, We would speculate that before you dwelt in the
Orphanage, you and many of your comrades played hoodman's-blind on that
rock called the King's Cinqet."
     Hawl-metthrh's face reddened and she looked to the floor, again shy.
     "You would be correct in all particulars but the last, Your Majesty,"
Gwl-lethry confirmed. "The Orphanage itself provided the education, the
craft that she employed to successfully hide her kith within my lands."
     Evendal grinned, accepting the correction. "Of course. The Orphanage
is old, and its injustices are no doubt as ingrained and hidden as its
benefits were trumpeted.
     "Some of the Tinde is wetland, but some is old rock and cavern. You
and your delegates either used the advantages of the marshland, or
fashioned grottoes like unto the caves, but covered, masked."
     "Yes, Your Majesty."
     "Both? Amazing! Your heir is cute and wise, Gwl-lethry. Our son had
best keep alert around her. How many children are you claiming?"
     "Your Majesty?"
     "How many children survived?"
     "Three hundred and thirty-one, Your Majesty." Gwl-lethry clenched his
jaw, his eyes dark and unblinking. "And I claim them all, Your
Majesty. All." He waited, his lieutenant poised behind him. The King saw
well the glint of belligerence in the manorlord's eye, the look of a man
prepared to do battle. Hawl-metthrh displayed a like countenance.
     Evendal responded clemently. "That is good to know. But surely some
have family among the surviving Stone-haulers." And Gwl-lethry deflated,
releasing the fortifying breath he had taken.
     "I found upon my return from detention that my daughter, alarmed by my
prolonged absence, had relinquished those with parents or adult relatives
back into their care, lest they be captured on my lands. Inasmuch as the
edict rendering the Stone-haulers t'bo was rescinded, the old rights and
liberties of family again applied for them, without the Stone-haulers
having to draw attention to their children's absence or reappearance. The
children yet existed on no record but our own."
     "So, allowing for those that the Rosette claimed, you still provide
for over three hundred orphans?"
     "No, Your Majesty." Hawl-metthrh piped up. The look in her still
bellicose eye bespoke an aging anger. "We provide for over three hundred
sons and daughters of Gwl-lethry agdh Gilbrahalnir." She inhaled sharply
and then added, like one offering challenge, "Each and every one is secure
in the knowledge of who their father is, and that he cares for their
wellbeing, each and every one, without condition."
     It was Gwl-lethry's turn to blush, briefly at a loss for words.
     "Be at peace, Hawl-metthrh," Evendal chided. "As We said before, so
long as We know them to be well and well cared for, they may remain
Tinde'keb's. We would even set Our seal to such, should you need it."
     "You would?" Gwl-lethry breathed, astonished.
     "Good man, she may love and honour you. But Hawl-metthrh is the arm
and voice of her charges first and foremost. That, also, was obvious at
first greeting. Do you understand that you have altered, forever, the
nature and use of your lands?"
     Gwl-lethry shrugged. "I had little choice, my lord."
     "We should have you say that before some of your more obsessive
peers," Evendal muttered. "Do you desire such confirmation?"
     Gwl-lethry hesitated, again sharing glances with his daughter. "Your
Majesty, would it be utterly outrageous to request a writ listing the names
of my wards and confirming their status as my sons and daughters? With
copies for each as they reach their majority?"
     "You're the father of three hundred children?" Kri-estaul asked,
uncertain he heard correctly.
     "Yes, Your Highness."
     "Do you love them?" Kri-estaul scowled at the manorlord. "All of
them?"
     After a pause, brought on by the child's sudden ferocity, Gwl-lethry
nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. I do."
     Kri-estaul glanced up at his father. Evendal nodded his
confirmation. "And you want Papa to give you something that will prove that
these children are yours?"
     Again Gwl-lethry nodded. "Something that reassures them as well as..."
     "Why not use an emblem?" Kri-estaul asked.
     "What? How do you mean?"
     Evendal smiled at the idea. "Yes. Much like the name trinkets for when
a child is born into a family. Is your family sigil not a bird? A robin?"
     "Yes."
     "Then with just over three hundred children, surely they know each
other and would thus be able to keep others from claiming kinship and
abusing your badge."
     Gwl-lethry gave Evendal a speculative look. "A ring, perhaps. Yes."
     "The writ shall be yours, before a sennight has passed. Along with
notice that those bearing your badge are under the Throne's shadow, and
your sons and daughters, with all resultant rights and liberties."
     Gwl-lethry stood and bowed. "My thanks, Your Majesty and Your
Highness,"
     "Stay awhile, good Gwl-lethry. You also, Hawl-metthrh. Acquaint
yourselves with Our son and heir and We shall go to smooth some roughened
bark." So saying, Evendal stood and approached Aikathemi, who bowed and
awaited acknowledgement.
     "We are relieved that Pohul-halik knew better than to brave the bitter
cold and sent her sturdy colleague in her stead. You are most welcome for
your own sake as well as for serving her needs, Aikathemi."
     The man's answer came out in an odd, strangled bass, low in register
but light in tone. "You are most gracious in your welcome and your words,
Majesty. I brought my Mistress's good will, good wishes for your son's
better health, and a gifting or two that might help him pass the time of
his confinement."
     Evendal was not surprised at the offer. "Good Aikathemi, I recall with
great joy your lessons on the habits and needs of the trees native to our
lands. It warms my heart that you, like your trees, yet endured the foul
weathers past."
     The grey-toned man grinned suddenly. "You made yourself unforgettable
to me before the Desolation of Mausna, Majesty, by escorting me through the
periphery of Kh'Anderif. Those wild hyacinth! The cuttings we retrieved
survived, Your Majesty. You helped restore a bit of beauty many thought
lost in the past." The man looked away. "I hated to think that you had been
reduced to a memory, like that hyacinth had been."
     "I am anxious, Master Aikathemi, for you to meet my son. He is weak in
body as yet, but strong in heart and quick of mind."
     The smile disappeared as suddenly as it arrived. "You honour me,
Majesty. Herself has given me an earful and more about your son and how to
treat with him."
     Evendal grinned as he walked Aikathemi back toward the three gathered
around the bed. "Aikathemi Rowan of the Woodwose and deputy of Pohul-halik,
I present Matron Drussilikh Quillmaster of the Scriveners, Gwl-lethry agdh
Gilbrahalnir Lord of the Tinde'keb, and his daughter Hawl-metthrh pire
Gwl-lethry."
     "Health and wholeness to you all."
     "Kri-estaul agd'Emmas-dawyl meh'Kohermarthen, pier'Evendalh, may We
present Aikathemi aldh'Ebarran, Rowan of the Woodwose and deputation from
Pohul-halik."
     "She is well?" Kri-estaul asked, anxious.
     "The Mistress is well, and wanted to visit in her own person, but the
damp and chill render such a prospect an ordeal."
     "Kri-estaul would be grieved had she decided otherwise."
     "Yes, I would. But I miss her." Without his usual reserve, Kri-estaul
openly examined the odd man, his friend's helper.
     Evendal wondered at his son's spontaneous attachment to a woman he had
met only once. Then he recalled their visit and the force of her age and
personality. Had the Mistress of Oaks, the Sylvan Pontifex, taken exception
to Evendal's methods, the King suspected none of the other craft masters
would have responded to him. Many of the commoners and gentry thought the
woman's titles affectation, not imagining their accuracy, or that the scope
of her authority rivalled Evendal m'Alismogh's own.
     "Herself hoped that you might, and think of her fondly. In
anticipation of which she had me bring a few items for your amusement." And
moving slowly for the benefit of Hielbrae and the other Guard, Aikathemi
reached into a fold of his bark-grey robe and extracted a smooth wooden
apple. With a bow he handed the bauble to Kri-estaul, who looked to Evendal
for permission before grasping the toy. "See the line that runs across it?
Grip each side and turn." Kri-estaul obeyed, and the ball proved a
container for an oversized walnut of some red-toned wood. "You may note
that this one also has a seam." The walnut housed a maple wing, which in
turn held a fig's syconium, which held an oversized acorn that contained
cherry pips. Each object, dyed and smooth, bore the irregular darkening
that signified much handling. "Each item is made from its tree's own wood."
     "Whose thought was this specific loan?" Evendal asked.
     "Not a loan, Your Majesty, unless His Highness finds some fault with
it."
     "What?" Kri-estaul turned his head to be certain he was not being
teased. "No, Master Aikathemi. They are beautiful! I think I remember
seeing this one." He held out the maple-seed carving. "But what are these?"
He dropped the maple and pointed to the second container and the smallest
ones, now nestled among the bedding.
     "That is the likeness of a walnut. You will not see a lot of those in
this region. And those small seeds are the pips in cherries; you'll see
those come the warmer seasons. The renderings are as precise as Pohul-halik
could make them. As is this." So saying, Aikathemi held out an amazingly
detailed figurine of a horse made of unstained blond wood a span and a half
tall, caparisoned, with the head turned slightly to its left and ears
pricked as though intrigued by a noise.
     Kri-estaul just stared at it, entranced.
     "Will you not accept this?" Aikathemi asked, playfully misinterpreting
Kri-estaul's stillness. "It was the last such carving she herself did
attempt before joint-pain stole that pleasure from her."
     "I am afraid I would damage it were it kept close by me," Kri-estaul
confessed. "It's grand. You both are so kind..."
     Never one for emotional display, Aikathemi interrupted. "But I have
one more, my own work, of sturdier make and subject. I adjure you, Your
Highness, keep this one with you, close where you can always reach it."
     The Prince looked up, confused by the strange speech pattern Aikathemi
suddenly sported. The hair on the back of Evendal's neck and forearms stood
up as the Rowan Master reached a final time into his tunic folds and
withdrew a third carving.
     A ralur rested couchant on a platform. The wood was black, and not
stained that colour. The rounded ears, long hind legs and wide forelegs on
the work proclaimed to the viewer that the artist had seen and studied the
genuine animal. An abrasion stamped across the tip of the muzzle gave the
nose a grey cast and beryl-like insets for eyes glimmered with the
semblance of vitality.
     "What is it?" Kri-estaul breathed.
     Evendal m'Alismogh ald'Menam frowned, and turned his amber glow from
the art to the artisan. "A ralur. Now We are most disturbed."
     Aikathemi faced Evendal, eyes wide, direct, and unflinching. "Do you
doubt my goodwill, Majesty?" He lowered the carving as he spoke. Heedless
of the challenge played out over him, Kri-estaul brought his hand up to the
snout of the leopardlike form and paused, uncertain if taking it while the
adults argued would seem greedy.
     "The nose feels odd. Ouch!"
     "What happened, Kri?"
     Kri-estaul turned his hand over and looked. Two spots of blood had
formed on the web of his thumb. "I must have rubbed against its muzzle the
wrong way."
     Aikathemi grinned affectionately. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it simply
kissed you in the only way such beasts can."
     "I hope it does not do that often," Evendal remarked pointedly.
     "There has ever been only one way to find out, Majesty. Would you put
your hand to the ralur's maw?"
     "Whatever my child's wellbeing requires," the King affirmed, as he
grabbed the small statue and examined its head.
     "To help ensure Your Highness's continued health is the purpose of my
visit and gifts, make no mistake." Aikathemi's earnestness shone out
clearly.
     Evendal tempered his suspicion, accepting the truth of his eyes and
ears. "I hold you to your intention, and trust in your wiser ways, friend
Master."
     "They are of marvellous workmanship," Gwl-lethry tendered. "Of great
subtlety."
     "Yes," Evendal conceded with weighty certainty. "That is certainly
true."
     "I do not intend to tax Your Highness. Herself wanted to know your
condition and wanted to assure Your Highness of her continued love and
regard for you."
     "What say you, sweetling?"
     "Would it be too much trouble for you to return? I apologise, I truly
do. I just feel so tired."
     For no reason he could fathom, Evendal found himself admitting to the
Gwl-lethry and Aikathemi, "Kri-estaul's sleep is often troubled by bad
dreams, stray memories exaggerated. It wears upon him."
     "The Birch Pontifex deemed that might be a concern. Few understand the
deep and dark as well as she, or its power over the pliable. With your
permission, Majesty, I would speak more plainly of particulars that would
doubtless bore the Heir Presumptive."
     Intrigued, Evendal m'Alismogh waved his acquiescence and walked, with
Guard and Gwl-lethry accompanying, to the chairs Ierwbae had set up.
     "The horse and rider are of willow wood," Aikathemi began.
     "What rider?" Gwl-lethry interjected. Evendal quickly gestured for
silence.
     The Rowan Master continued, "With all its virtues awakened and
engaged. Of course were the evocation on the horse untempered, unmitigated,
His Highness would become a drooling oaf with little sense or memory but
for his few weeks aboveground. The horse's function, aside from the
pleasure it may give His Highness, is to counter the nightmares he has been
riding. To ease his heart. His knowing this may hinder its effectiveness,
as he might expect more from it than it can immediately provide. In
moderating its vitality, its effect is likewise rendered gradual. The ralur
contains willow along with other woods and natural stains."
     "And its function?" Evendal promptly asked.
     "Traditional."
     "What? We have no traditions implicating ralur."
     Aikathemi visibly hesitated. "Majesty. You know me. How do you
remember me, think of me?"
     "As a quiet, gentle man, passionate and wise in your craft and
vocation. Kind but not effusive or demonstrative. Young in semblance but
old in haviour."
     "I appreciate your bluntness," Aikathemi grinned, as ever, a brief
display. "I remember you as promising in your youth what you seem to have
fulfilled in your majority. I remember His Highness as well, though he
would not recall me, so young was he. I grieved to hear of his
'disappearance,' and rejoiced at your discovery of him. The ralur is my own
gift, sanctioned by Herself, but yet my own responsibility. It is simply a
halidom such as I wish I had given him when first we met. He now may never
need what it might affect, but indulge my too tardy well-wishing, I beg of
you."
     "Does the Typika know of this item?" Gwl-lethry thought to ask.
     Aikathemi blushed, to Evendal's confusion. "She would know it, and
probably call me overprotective. But it is just..."
     "Peace, friend." Evendal could not endure the frustration that twisted
Aikathemi's features as he strove to explain himself. "We did not mean to
turn your generosity into a torment. An act of love should never be
discounted or diminished."
     "Did I say something wrong?" Kri-estaul asked from behind Evendal.
     The King quickly returned to bolster his son. "No, my boy. I needed a
word with Aikathemi, some assurance that the ralur would not bite you
again."
     "It is so detailed. Look, it has claws on hind legs and forelegs, and
the wood of its chest is lighter than the rest of it. And the horse! I
always wanted to ride. To ride a horse."
     For several breaths, no one spoke.
     Aikathemi took up the gauntlet. "Herself told me she did once imagine
she rode this gelding, racing the wind to many destinations, when the
Healers prohibited her returning to the saddle. It comforted her for a
time. Perhaps it can do the same for you, until you are in better health."
     "Is it wise to suggest that he might ride in the future? To encourage
such fancies?" Evendal voiced his misgivings.
     The Rowan Master and Gwl-lethry stared in surprise at their King. "Why
not? It is hardly impossible, nor terribly involved to arrange," Gwl-lethry
replied.
     "Straps and counterweights can provide one means," Aikathemi
advised. "And the right horse, properly trained, can likewise accomplish
the same goal.
     "If thoughts matter at all, youngling, know that my mind and heart had
but one united purpose and reason in crafting the ralur: to advance your
safety and well-being."
     "I don't have anything to give you, though." Kri-estaul
protested. "Maybe when you come back?"
     "For you to get well and stay well, Your Highness, would be my dearest
desire at this time. If I may ask your leave?"
     "Yes."
     "Granted," Evendal answered. "Leave and return as you may. We confess
Our desire for a chance to share some... more idle converse."
     With a bow and a quick grin, Aikathemi thumped out, careful of his
balance.