Politics - Chapter Twelve

Bear, in his almost limitless patience--was getting sick and tired of Raven's ranting. "...she's thinks she great cause she's the Captain's kid? Guess what? Mother is plotting to kill you..." same litany over and over, only once did the theme change. "And another thing! Why did Sparrow take such a...girlie girl to bed? Why not me?" she pounded her chest like a barbarian then. "Who knows her way around both on field and off?"

"Enough!" Bear roared, his fists clenched to his sides. "There's only so much I can take of you ranting about poor Renny! Enough woman or the Captain won't have to deal with you!" and that had ended the conversation.

Now the fun part. Bear had listened intently to Renny's somewhat garbled directions before he left with Raven. He had to admit, nobody could use those directions without a nose like a hound. As a result, they didn't reach the Inn until a few hours after sunset.

"I will talk Raven. Not you." Bear said firmly.

"I only wants to see what Renny's got so fussy about." Raven said defensively. Narrowing her eyes she added with pure malice "Maybe find out something to cause Sparrow to leave his love-bird."

Bear counted to ten before continuing. Once inside though, the two were a bit taken back. Used to avoiding large crowds, they weren't ready for the dozen or more people crowded everywhere possible. "If this doesn't take it..." Raven swore, scanning the people.

"Renny said Nia looking like her...so looks for a Renny copy." Bear whispered, making his way to the left back. Raven cut a path to the right, both meeting up at the stairs to the uppers. "She's got to be here..."

Raven tugged his sleeve and pointed up the stairs. A young girl that may have looked like Renny was hurrying up the stairs. Quick as lightning Raven was before her, backing her up towards Bear who scowled--more at Raven then Nia.

"We are looking for a girl named Nia." Raven said, eyes narrowed. "We are friends of Renny's and need her help...now!"

Nia raised her eyebrows and glanced back at the bulk of Bear behind her. "I don't know who you are, or what you want," she said calmly, quietly and without a hint of fear. "But despite your friend's size I'll wager Niall will tear you both to pieces should I scream for his help." As if to emphasise her point she threw a look at the hulking figure of the pit fighter slouched near the door to the Swan. "If you introduce yourself, and take some time to explain your problem, I may be more inclined to listen."

Raven sneered and opened her mouth, but Bear, highly amused by the girl, made a motion to shut it. "Ahh...do not know who this Niall is, but let us not fight. You are right, we should have introduced ourselves." Bear told Nia, nodding. "I am Bear and this is Raven. We are friends of Renny's and at this moment she is in dire need of help."

"I don--" Raven began angrily, her eyes glittering.

"Quiet! We already spoke about this," Bear reminded her. Looking back at the girl he said more kindly, "I assume you are Nia? llances was so happy when she finally made a female friend." Relaxing his posture, he winced. "Can we find a better place to talk? I fear this is a bit...confining for me."

Nia's forehead creased abruptly and she shook her head. "Just tell me what you need, I'll help if I can. What's wrong with Renalla?" As a compromise, she took a few steps away from the middle of the room towards one of the walls, away from where the patrons were gathered around the hearth. She still didn't trust either of them, as they certainly looked nothing like servants.

Raven scowled, but kept silent about Nia's use of Renny's name. She didn't like this Nia anymore then she liked Renny.

Bear frowned in thought. Sighing heavily he nodded. "All right. Here's what we do know." Bear told her, making a hushing motion to Raven. "Sometime earlier myself, Raven and Sparrow -- someone you have yet to meet -- overheard Renny's mother talking with another girl about a meeting you, Renny and another man had earlier this week. We hurried to Renny to see her, but found her stumbling about in severe pain. Apparently she was having a problem with believing memories of hers due to the young man's appearance." Bear paused, studying Nia's face to see if she understood.

"How much do you know of Renny?" Raven interupted, waving a hand into Bear's face to keep him quiet.

Nia blinked. "Problems with her memories? What sort of problems? I know very little about Renny, as we've only just recently met. Although..." She deliberated over whether to mention anything at all about Edmund and how Renny hadn't seemed or even wanted to recognise her fiancee. But with these two, particularly considering the way that the dark-haired girl looked at her, it might be more prudent to leave him out of this. At least until she found out more. "... although that might explain some things," she finished, more to herself than to the other two. "Hang on - what does Renalla's mother have to do with all this?"

"You really ARE ignorant." Raven said in shock, looking to Bear as if to say 'And we need her help?'

"Excuse her..." Bear said wearily. "I'm not sure if Renny wanted this known yet...but I couldn't care less at this moment. She's in trouble and I want her out of it...now." Bear said, his forehead knotted in concentration. "Renny doesn't have a father -- at least not that any of us have met. Her mother is Moira, Captain of the Lotus Band of Outlaws. Renny has trained, practiced and basically been bred for this moment. The moment when she will help overthrow King Hawk."

"..." Nia was very much speechless at this stage. She would never have put Renny down to be an outlaw - seeking to remove the King of all people! She remembered back to the time she held counsel with King Hawk, and how patient he was with her when she was blubbering like a child. She wanted to dismiss the two scruffy people as pathetic and call for Niall to come and chop them up. But she held back, at least admiring their concern for Renalla. Then it hit her: what if this was a trap? Perhaps they wanted to get rid of her, AND Edmund, just for knowing about Renny and her past?

"She's not a noble, she's a simple outlaw." Raven clarified with some malicious relish. "Her boyfriend is a cold-blooded mercenary. She is too." Raven went on, smiling ferally. "This 'Renalla' you met is nothing more than a illusion."

"The point is that we have reason to believe her mother wishes her out all of a sudden. The fact she met you and this stranger from her past -- who seems to know her Father of all people -- proves what her mother intimated about." Bear explained to both ladies. "Renny has been living a lie these past years. And that lie is going to cost her her life now."

Or *my* life, Nia thought. "What do you want me to do?"

"We need your help to find the young man who knew Renny before. She is calling for him..." Bear explained, frowning as he struggled to explain that which was supposed to be secret. "She says he knows her...father? Can he get a message to him? Explain the situation?"

"Take her away..." Raven added in a sing-song voice.

"Raven, enough with your foolish jealousy! You are just as dead as Renny if the Cap'ain finds out!" Bear roared, for a moment angry beyond caring what the outsider thought. He counted to ten and regained his composure. "All -- including yours girl, whether you help or not -- are at stake if the Cap'ain has her way."

Nia wondered if the burly outlaw wasn't just being a tad overdramatic. Yet her gut feeling was starting to override her suspicions. Even if there was only the slightest chance of all this being the truth, then Renny might be in genuine need of help. She had to give these two the benefit of the doubt. "Where is she? Is she still in the city? Tell me where she is and I'll make sure that man gets to her."

Bear looked away sheepishly. "Ah that might be a bit hard to do little one," he started. "Renny's up at the castle with Sparrow, having a fit of the dazed and confused. We can get you in, but getting her out without being noticed if a bit harder."

"And the guy? What about the guy that will take Renny far far away from here for a good long forever?" Raven persisted.

Bear ignored all but the part he needed. "Yes, can you get the guy too?" Bear asked in earnest. "He is safer with us than away... even now Moira is sending out her best -- minus Renny, Sparrow and Myself since we are to be killed -- to deal with you and the guy." he thought for a moment. "Well no he wouldn't kill the guy...she'd want information first." he concluded nodding his head.

Nia knew that the King had given her an invitation to come back and see him should she need to. But it was now sort of common knowledge that Hawk had gone off on some journey, and without his presence at the castle she would have no need to go there. Perhaps she WOULD need these two to get inside the castle.

"Bottom line kid, you're helping or we forget you and the guy. Renny will have to do without for now." Raven said impatiently, tapping her boots against the floor.

"We'll meet near the gate to the castle in an hour," she replied, finally giving in. "I'll bring Renny's... friend along then." If necessary, she would get Niall to escort them to the castle. She wondered whether Renny's 'outlaw mother' really had that much reach to be able to have her killed inside the Swan, or even the city walls for that matter. But her suspicious nature just wouldn't let go of the nagging voice that told her this was all some elaborate scheme. The less time she spent in this pair's company, the less anxious she would feel.

Bear nodded. "Yes...we'll meet you there," he said agreeing with the plan. *Have to get Renny to help us with that trick though...life was much better when it was all about the killing and overthrowing and robbing...* Bear thought with real regret. "I need to get back to Renny now...I worry after the girl, she's never really had to face her mother before..." Bear murmured shaking his head. "Not to be a bother... but if you know of anything that can help pain, will you please bring it? Illances is...she needs something that will help." Bear said sighing heavily. "Come along Raven...let's get back to Renny--and Sparrow," he added to get her moving faster.

The woman entered the bar quietly. She held her dress carefully off the floor for fear of what vermin might be hanging about. It was late morning yet some patrons still slept by the great fireplace showing that perhaps a fine evening had been here the night before. She had been told this was the best place in town and yet she had her doubts. She had only two weeks funds to support her and turn her fortunes about. Her face hair was covered and her cloak hid her figure. As she was, she was ageless. She approached the man at the counter. "Excuse me sir. I wish to speak to the owner." She said quietly.

Swithen met the hooded woman with a broad smile. Long years as an innkeep had given him an innate sense of a potential customer's worth, and this one seemed of a better class than most. "Certainly m'lady," he said politely as he turned and called into the kitchen. "Pic! Git upstairs and tell his nibs that there's a lady to see him." A moment later a small boy scampered from the kitchen and up a narrow staircase. "Now. Perhaps you would care to wait in one of the parlors until he arrives," Swithen said indicating a curtained room towards the rear of the room.

"That would be lovely, thank you." She answered quietly. She stepped inside and looked around. Her heart quaked with fear at her surroundings but she was determined in her course of actions.

"Would you care for a little warm honeyed wine marm?" Swithen asked as she was seated.

The woman nodded and sat down gingerly on the edge of a seat. It was clear that she was uncomfortable in her surroundings.

"Fine. Fine. Just be a moment."

The woman watched as the innkeeper left. She shivered and pulled her cloak tighter though it was not cool in the room. She wondered what this man would be like. She knew absolutely nothing about him. All she knew was that this was the inn she had been directed to and that it was frequented by nobility.

True to his word, Swithen returned seconds later cup in hand. "There ya be, marm. The owner will be down in just a titch."

The woman thanked him politely and waited sipping the drink.

After a short space of time a swarthy little man with a tattooed face and unkempt hair emerged from around the bar and entered the small parlor. In spite of his rough appearance and outlandish dress, he performed a gracious bow. "Good morning madam. You asked after the owner of the Swan, and I am happy to attend. Pwyll ap Llywarch at your service."

She swallowed hard as she stood. It was clear she as gently born as she held out her hand. Pwyll's lip curled into a wry smile at the formally offered hand, but he took it gently and brought it to his lips in a chase courtly kiss. It held not a single callus. "I am L... I am Jolene ui Burke. I was told you held the best inn in the city of Alban. I... I was hoping you might need someone to sing?"

Pwyll was momentarily speechless. He had often said that nothing could surprise him, yet he stood there mouth agape looking for all the world like a village idiot. Here was a woman of obvious breeding offering her services as a common player--she might as well have been a queen offering free pony rides for children. After a few heartbeats he recovered his wits enough to speak. "Um... You perhaps have some experience... m'lady?"

"I have six years of training in arts of music." She said quietly. "I would be happy to offer you a sample performance for your taproom. I ask in return only room and board and a pittance for small needs that a woman has."

Pwyll doubted that her idea of a pittance would have any similarity to his, but a new face probably wouldn't hurt business any. He stroked his short beard and made a few rough calculations. Spring was rapidly giving way to summer, and summer would mean a sharp increase in demand for accommodation as workers and chapmen flooded into the city. If she was to stay, it would mean sacrificing valuable bed space. It would also mean convincing Athel and Lewelyth that the newcomer wouldn't reduce their custom. She would probably need to do more than sing to earn her keep. "Can you read and write?" Pwyll asked abruptly.

"Yes Sir. I can read very well." She answered quietly.

"How about figures and the like?"

"I used to help with the household accounts at h... at my last position." She answered with a quiet sad dignity. She pushed her hood back. Now in clear light, her appearance was more available. Her skin was almost a translucent ivory, uncommon for these climes were men and women alike were equally kissed by the sun. Her hair was a deep jet black and framed a striking face. Her eyes brown with flecks of gold. If her figure, still hidden by the cloak, matched her face, she was a striking woman.

Though not to his taste, Pwyll was pleasantly surprised at the young woman's beauty. "Good, good. Here's what I can do... You sing three nights in seven at the direction of our bard Athel. Any custom you receive from the crowd will be divided equally between yourself and the bard. On off days you'll help Swithen keep the books and teach me to read and write. In exchange, you get room an' board and a penny a fortnight besides. You can have a private room until the summer, but then you'll have to bunk in with someone."

Jolene gave a sigh of relief. It was better then she had hoped for. "I do not mind sharing if there is a need." She said. "I have rented a room for tonight, but if you prefer I move to a small out of the way space tomorrow, I do not need much." She knew she would have to be careful or men here would expect more than singing but she knew that this was her only alternative.

"You can stay in your current room for the time being, but don't settle in too much--you'll need to move as we become busier. I'll let Swithen know," Pwyll said, jerking a thumb in the old barman's direction. He stood and prepared to leave, the meeting obviously drawing to a conclusion. "Staff sups early, so you'll need to come down before the sun sets. You'll have a chance to meet everyone then. Athel, our bard, will probably want a song to judge your worth. Though if you've had the training, I don't think there'll be any problem."

"Thank you, milord. I promise you will not be disappointed." Her eyes shown with gratitude.

As she stood, Pwyll gave a curt bow and walked with her to the base of the stairs. "M'lady... Um... Jolene, if you intend to pass as a player, I think a change of dress and slightly less formality might go a long way." He tilted his head and gave her a knowing smile, "If you like, I can have someone find you some appropriate attire."

"I guess that would be necessary. I am afraid that my clothing is all of this cut and clothe." She bit her lip at her lack of foresight. "I will await direction in that regard as I do not know what is appropriate?" She blushed lightly. She turned and went up the stairs to find the rooms appointed her.

After she was out of earshot, Swithen leaned across the bar. "Yer a right gentleman sir."

"Yah... A real saint," Pwyll replied, aiming a back handed slap across the head of young Pic as he tried to lift a purse from one of the sleeping drunks. "A real saint."

Jolene looked in the mirror and turned slowly. She wasn't sure she liked this dress at all. The white chemise dipped low enough to show the swell of her breasts. The overdress that laced up the front only shoved it up higher. The ties at the front were the only thing holding the overdress together for the front fell open showing her chemise as she moved. The overdress was a deep green and she had to admit that it brought out both her eyes and her hair. She had braided her hair very loosely over one shoulder but it still fell nearly to her waist. It would have to do. As Master Llywarch had pointed out, her other clothes were just to fine.

She took a deep breath and went downstairs. She blushed for as she stepped into the room, conversation stopped. She did not see Master Llywarch anywhere. Two of the barmaids were glaring at her for some strange reason. "Master Llywarch said I should come down to sup early." She said hesitantly.

A man jumped up and offered her his seat. Jolene thanked him quietly and slipped into his spot. A trencher appeared before her and she ate sparingly. Conversation was hushed and she felt out of place. Finally the bard, Athel, stood up. "Let's see what yer pipes are worth, lass." It was clear he had his doubts.

"Of course." Jolene stood up and joined him where his apprentice was testing the strings of his lute. "Do you know "The Tale of the Lost Druid?" She waited for the apprentice's answer.

Athel looked up at her in surprise. "That is a hard piece, lass. Are ye sure you wish to be singing that for your first attempt?"

"You wish to know if I can sing. It has the hardest changes in tone and it is a sad song that strikes the chords of an audience if well played. I can do it, can he?" Her eyes challenged him for she knew that these people would not accept her unless they could see something to their benefit.

Athel chuckled. "I doubt you will find a player better able." He nodded to his apprentice who then plucked a few notes to let her pick up the tone of his lute.

She nodded that she was ready and he began the first round of music. Having not sang with him before, Jolene let him play to the chorus and then nodded for him to start over. It was a huanting melody and a sad tale of a druid who lost first his love and then his way in the eyes of the gods. The staff of The Swan had not been paying the two much mind until Jolene began to sing. All conversation stopped as the pure sweet tones of music flowed from her lips. By the time she finished the last verse and chorus, tears were falling down the cheeks of the barmaids.

She looked at Athel for his opinion of her singing but he was staring at her. "What?" She asked in concern. She thought she had sang it rather well.

"We's gonna be rich." She heard one of the women behind her breath out in amazement.

"Lass.." Athel was at a loss for words.

Jolene, at the barmaids advice, had stayed out of sight. They had explained that the custom tended to be quite handy as they began drinking. She had also avoided the Master of the Inn for she did not want to seem to familiar with the Lord and then bring back the scorn of her fellow workers and players. Finally one of the women came to fetch Jolene. The taproom had become quite rowdy and it was the plan to use Jolene to refocus their attentions. Athel was already making a good custom and as Jolene entered, sly comments and calls that would have brung her nanny to blush followed her to Athel's side.

Sir Gwynne was rather tired. The last weeks had been not only stressful but extraneous as well. Gwynne yawned as he entered the Swan, it was indeed right crowded in the smokey place. He bellied up to the bar, the last clear place on it, and smiled at the his barmaid friend, whom he'd come to know quite well over the last month. Nothing inappropriate, just a fried.

"Hey lassie, an ale please, make that a double, hell give me three glasses," he laughed.

As the Knight made his order. A soft haunting melody began to play and then a woman began to sing. Her voice was pure as a bell and the song she sang was a haunting melody of love lost and never recovered. Sound in the bar slowly ceased and all eyes turned to the lady and the bard.

As the barmaid took his order he turned around to lean on the bar and look out over the populace. When his eyes saw a creature so lovely and magnificent, that he thought he'd suddenly stepped into a dream. Her dress was very revealing, but he was so enthralled that he hadn't even noticed she was singing until half way through. The song told of love lost, and that was something Gwynne knew well. He drank his ale and continued to listen to the lass with the golden voice.

Jolene brought the song to it's final note. A hushed silence settled over the tap room and then a coin landed at her feet and then another. Soon a rain of coin was skidding about the Lass and the Bard as they all demanded another song. This time she chose something a little more lively. Athel and Jolene seemed matched in talent for his fingers played a harmoney that was perfect to her voice.

Without hesitation, Gwynne found himself getting a few penny's and throwing it up to the front. He had to meet this beauty. He took his ale, left the bar and made his way to the front. When she was done singing, he would introduce himself to her and shower her with compliments.

The taproom kept Jolene singing for a good hour before she looked to Athel and he made it clear that the lady would take a break and he began gathering up the coins. Before she could get three feet from where she had stood a rough hand jerked her into his lap. "Ye can be takin' that break with me lass." And then rough lips ravaged hers. She struggled to free herself from the brute.

"I don't think so swine," Gwynne said, he put his hand literally between his lips and the lady's. "Madam, I am terribly sorry for this brigand's bad manners," Gwynne smiled, and with a quick one-two movement Gwynne had slammed a fist into the guy's throat, allowing the lady to escape his grasp. "You know that I am a Knight of this realm," he unsheathed his sword, "care to test just how good we are with a sword in hand?" Gwynne smiled knowingly, confident. He made sure that he was between the lass and the brigand.

The taproom waited with anticipation. The man swallowed hard. "Nay, if she is your wench, I meant no offense."

"Have you any manners?" Gwynne asked, he turned his sword so it was on it's side and smacked the back of the brigand's head with it, in punishment, it would only leave a good bruise. "Watch your tongue, she is clearly not a wench and I'll slit any man's throat who says she is. She is clearly a lady, treat her as such or you'll have me to deal with in this bar, does everyone understand that?" Gwynne asked the room. They had heard of his exploits so far and knew he was a man to be reckoned with.

Jolene wanted to die right there. All eyes were on her as this man all but claimed her as his own. And yet, she could not fault him for his gallantry. She had already been warned what to do by the barmaids but no one had told her what to do if this happened. "Please sire, you make a scene at my expense." She whispered urgently.

"Yes milady, as you wish," Gwynne bowed gallantly to the lass and then turned to face some of the more rowdy men in the Swan, just to let them know that this lass was protected by him. Truth be known, Gwynne had a tear in his eye when he heard her sing and instantly took a liking to the lady. He could also smell breeding from a mile away.

Jolene turned when he looked away and fled. She picked up her skirts and fled the taproom in mortification. She had known she would face these things but had hoped her first appearance would have ended better.

Gwynne walked up to the bar and softly asked the bartender, "I would like to see the singer in the parlor? Can that be arranged? I wish to see that she is recovering," he said, his eyes were compassionate and true.

"She ain't some trollop for your entertainment, Milord." Swithen warned. The Swan could provide those, but he wasn't about to let this lady become one of them. There was something about her that made him feel protective.

"Swithen watch your tongue man. I am a gentleman, a knight in this realm, I only wish to speak to the lass and make sure myself that she is all right, now go," he threw the man a farling, "For your troubles, now go."

The man deftly caught the coin and pocketed it. "I will bring her to the side parlour." He said and left to fetch Jolene. A few minutes later, Jolene stepped through the curtain to one of the small rooms set aside for better patrons. A young girl was with her, apparently to act as a sort of chaperone.

"You wished to speak with me, Milord?" Jolene asked not looking up at him.

"Aye lass, I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I only wished to save you from the hands of that swine, pardon my language milady," he bowed his head slightly. "And wanted to check to see that you are well," Gwynne gently smiled at the chaperone, his eyes turned back to the lass. "Permit me to introduce myself, I am Sir Gwynne Hawley, Knight of the realm, Crest of Topaz," he bowed full, though she was dressed as a barmaid, he could see there was more to her. He had been around enough ladies of court to know one when he saw one.

"I am honored, milord and thank you for your efforts. I am Jolene." She answered with a slight curtsey. "As you can see, I am fine."

Gwynne smiled, thinking something to that effect as well. "Milady, may I say, you have a divine voice, the sounds of angels leave your lips and I was truly overcome in the hearing. I was honored to listen to such beauty and now speak with one so beautiful," he bowed gallantly as a knight would a lady of court. "Jolene is a lovely name."

"Your flattery proceeds you, milord. I have been well warned of your smooth tongue and ways of court." She said with a smile falling back to court flirtations without even thinking.

"By whom milady and I shall have them wrung and quartered posthaste," he laughed. Gwynne was always self-deprecating, he knew his tongue was too smooth, but in the presence of one so enchanting it was difficult to keep it from issuing flowery words that he found were true this time.

"I.. " She realized her error and blushed. "I should go. Thank you for your intervention." She said softly as she turned to leave.

"Milady, please stay? The chaperone is here, nothing is inappropriate. Is it not customary for a lady to show gratitude to a knight when he has saved her from distress? I was only being humorous. Your company would be most appreciated. If you stay I shall tell the King and the Royal family of your voice and you could come to the Caer and sing for them?" he asked her, he didn't want her to leave and could not think of any other way to get her to stay and still remain a gentleman.

Jolene turned slowly to look at him. "You would do that?" She asked almost in fear.

"With your voice milady you should be entertaining royalty, not brigands and thieves, I only wished to help not cause distress," he bowed before her again. "I must confess to be tangled in the web of your beauty," he smiled, "It is only the words of a lonely knight who wishes to better the life of a true lady, how I may do that would be but my honor," he smiled, he walked over to her. He desperately wanted to kiss her hand, or dance with her, walk with her in the gardens. This was a woman he could get to know indeed. For the first time in a long time, he was happy to be in Abertawe, and all the pain of his past faded away.

Jolene took a step back. "I am not a lady, milord nor equal to your station. I am a simple player of this Inn and nothing more." Her voice stressed the last two words. "I will sing again tonight I am sure. Good Evening to you." She turned to leave.

"Milady forgive me for my contradiction. But I am a man of some station, a knight, I know a courtly lady when I see one. You may be just a player now at this Inn, but at one time you were a lady, the breeding is upon you, in your eyes, in your voice and in the way that you move, you even breathe like a lady. I am a learned man, milady, it would be in your best interest to understand I know that of which I speak," he smiled kindly to her. "I do not understand why you keep such things secret? Why not go to the castle? You have a friend in me, I am but at your call," he bowed hoping she would let him kiss her hand.

Jolene paled slightly. "I cannot." She whispered. "I may speak and talk like one of noble blood, but I am just as common as any woman working here. Please, do not press this matter."

Gwynne frowned and let her see his frown. "Milady, I would be honored if you would call me friend. I will be here on the nights you sing, and be enthralled by the beauty of your voice. I would be honored if you would call me friend?" he repeated.

"I do not know you and to lend you to much favor will only make things difficult for me." She sighed. "People will think you are paying for my time as it is."

That statement was a veritable slap in the face, for there was a chaperone present. "As you wish milady," he replied and quieted. He was clearly offended by her words.

"I am sorry. But you all but claimed me before the whole taproom and almost all witnessed us both coming to this parlor. What do you think they are supposing is going on, even with a chaperone?" She asked for the child beside her worked in the kitchens and therefore was merely another staple of the business.

"In the time I have been here milady I have earned the reputation of a gallant gentleman. I have not paid for the 'services' of a woman in this establishment or at any time for that matter, nor would I do so. Every one in this place knows that well. If I say I spoke with you only, then none of them would have any reason to gainsay me. I am a man of my word, and in the short time I have been a knight of this realm, I have earned that respect at least," Gwynne replied, there was a sharpness to his voice, that told of his hurt feelings. He had earned his reputation indeed. Gwynne was a decent man, a drunk maybe, but he had never soiled the reputation of any woman for his own pleasures.

"I hope you are correct, for if you are not. There will be such demands made time and time again." She said softly. She slipped from the parlor leaving him to his displeasure. It was time to sing again.

Was Gwynne somehow unknowingly the boy in the belfry tower? Why was it the women in this shire seemed averse to him? He shook his head, he had saved her, offered her protection and didn't even get to kiss the lasses hand. Why was she so paranoid? ~~Ah well, more reason to drink,~~ he thought to himself.

He then left the parlor discreetly at the back entrance and entered the Swan from the main entrance. She seemed far too spooked to not oblige her. He would come and listen to her sing, at least then he might find some solace in his dismal existence. Though his mercantile business was becoming quite successful over the last few months, and wealth was pouring in, somehow it did not satisfy Gwynne.

Jolene sang three more times that night. Each time, she filled the taproom and each time she and the bard were showered with coin. She was aware of the Knight's presence and it worried her. What if he did bring her to the attention of the King. What was she worried about, she doubted any would remember the little girl who had come to court so often. She had finished the last set. The room had less men in it then earlier and some were asleep wherever they had dropped. The knight was obviously drowning his sorrows and she felt responsible. She left Athel picking up the last of their coinage and approached his table. Since the first set of songs, none had touched her. She saw Master Llywarch at the bar and figured he would wish to speak with her. She was fairly sure he would be pleased for the custom that had been thrown to her feet had shown that his patrons were happy with her performances. She stopped first and sat across from the Knight.

Gwynne smiled, even as he sat he was a bit wobbly, he raised his glass to her but said nothing.

"I am sorry if I upset you earlier. It was not my intent to set you down so." She offered wearily.

Gwynne smiled at her his head bobbed a bit, and he slurred as he spoke, "nay lassie, I always come here and drown my sorrors in this pretty ol' glahs." He hiccupped and raised his glass again to drink the only liquid that gave him solace. "It seems that the women of Abertawe have become quite accustomed to spurning me. I am well used to it milady, I can't even get a respectable lady to even dance with me at King's balls, if we had one, that ish," he laughed and called for Swithen to bring him another pitcher of ale.

Jolene was shocked to see a knight in such a state. She stood slowly. "I will leave you to your cups, milord." She said quietly.

Gwynne smiled, "Aye lassdie, that's right to my cups," he said and collapsed hard onto the table. Something that the employees at the Swan were well used too.

Jolene sighed. "So much for gallantry." She whispered and turned to head for the bar where her employer stood.

Gwynne couldn't get Jolene out of his head. He had only seen one other woman as beautiful as she and he had not seen Morgan for some time. Who she was and why she was hiding at the Swan intrigued him.

He thought that he would go and look at the noble records and see if he might find something about her there. He wasn't trying to pry, she just was a mystery the learned man had to solve. He entered the records room, awed by it's size.

"May I help you, milord?" A man stepped forward. He was dressed in the attire of a cleric.

"I wish to look up some information on some of the noble families of Abertawe. Where are those records kept?" Gwynne wondered. "I'd like to start with recent births of noble ladies-say the last 20 years?" he said.

"Of course, milord." He led the way to a table and began producing records for the Knight. "IF you could tell me what you are looking for more specifically, milord?"

"I am searching for the background on a certain lady in town. She is of noble birth but seems to deny it. I wanted to see if maybe she was in the records and perhaps restore her to her rightful place and help where I could. Her first name is Jolene. She can't be but 20 summers," he replied.

"There have been only four ladies of my knowledge with that name and noble birth." The cleric laid out the records swiftly for the knight. There were, as he said, four. One of the Testene Family, one of the Burke, one of the Riley and one of the Serame Family.

"Could you please give me the records on all four women please? Anything you have on them, I would be most grateful my good man," Gwynne said with a smile.

"We do not keep much beyond marriages and such but I will see what I can find." He managed to find two marriages, one for the young woman of the Riley family and the other had married out of the Testene family.

"So where are the Burkes and the Serame's? Their titles and land ownership certificates?" Gwynne asked politely.

The clerk fetched the records he wished for. The Burkes were powerful landholders. The Burke family was extensive. A daughter had been borne into the Burke family of a local Lord 16 winters ago. The Serame's daughter had died at the age of six.

Gwynne read the documents intently, studying them with a keen eye. Jolene did not seem so young, but from what he read her breeding was fine indeed. And she was from a family of considerable power. Why then was she at the Swan singing? When a lady of her stature should be at the castle and at court? "Thank you my good man. I wish to copy these documents pertaining to the Burke's. Might you fetch me some parchment and quill?" he asked.

"Yes milord." The items were produced immediately and the unnecessary documents were put away with efficiency.

For the next few hours Gwynne copied the documents by hand, word for word. He had a nice writing style, flamboyant but readable. He did his best to copy everything as it was, even the signatures. He did not place a seal on it however, he didn't want to be arrested for forgery. He would present these documents to the Lady Burke when next he saw her and see how she reacted. He knew that she may come around once she saw how intent he was on assisting her.

But, he wanted to find out more details. "Tell me, who might know of the Burke family and their estate?" he asked the cleric.

"Lord Alterian knows everyone who has ever graced these walls, milord. I would start with him." The clerk said with a bow.

"Here," he put a full shilling in the cleric's hand. "Thank you for your assistance. You did well and I am very thankful. Lord Alterian will know of your work this day," Gwynne smiled at the man.

He bowed low to the knight. "Thank you, milord."

Gwynne went to see if he could get an audience with Lord Alterian. He had waited for this day, it was the only time he was not expected to be training the army or the squires. He was now outside the Lord's chambers, and addressed one of the guards outside the entrance, "Sir Gwynne Hawley, to see Lord Alterian," Gwynne said confidently.

"Of course, milord, one moment." The man said at the door to Alterian's office. He was gone for a few minutes and then returned. "Right this way if you please." He opened the door for the knight.

Gwynne made his way into the chambers. He bowed slightly to the Lord and waited to be addressed.

"I must commend you, our young Dame seems to have blossomed into a fine knight. I am sure the King will gladly knight her when he returns." Alterian said from his desk, not looking up at the knight. As usual, Alterian's head was buried in scrolls of correspondence.

"Thank you milord. The Dame is quite capable and will do the Kingdom proud I am sure of that. She is capable, albeit a bit dashing, she will grow out of it," he smiled. The lass was more than just dashing, she was reckless. But a very pretty reckless, he smiled. "Milord I wonder if you might have any information to spare about the Burke family?" Gwynne asked forthright. "I am investigating them on my own, they have done nothing wrong that I am aware of, I am just curious about one of the Burke's," Gwynne asked.

"The Burkes are a large family. Your questions will need to be more specific." Again, Alterian did not look up.

"My apologies milord. I would like to inquire about Lady Jolene Burke?" Gwynne asked, hoping to find out something worthwhile from him. Perhaps he knew her even when she was still a lady.

Alterian looked up at Gwynne. He sat down his pen. "Really, and what had brought the young lady to your attention?" Alterian asked quietly.

"I met her along the path of my travels milord and was curious of her station, nothing more," he did not lie but was also discrete. If she were in trouble he would not give away her position.

"The lady Jolene Burke is not a matter for your interest. Good day, milord." Alterian said firmly as he stood.

"Milord, with all due respect, I am not going to forget this. Better to tell me now, I see no harm in learning more about the lass. If you do not tell me, I will find someone who will," he replied politely, but firmly.

"I see." Alterian walked to the sideboard and poured a goblet of wine and took a slow sip. He did not offer any to the upstart young man.

"Truth be known milord, I wish to at some point in the near future court her," he said.

"I have not seen the young lady since she was twelve." He said taking another sip of wine. "Her family quit coming to court and became somewhat reclusive."

"I see," Gwynne replied. "Well she is not twelve any longer," Gwynne smiled, a true understatement if he'd ever heard one. She was without a doubt one of the prettiest ladies in the realm, aside from Morgan. "Please milord. I only have my sword, my horse and my mercantile business, I wish to court this lady and would like to know more of her," he pleaded with the lord. "Anything you can spare milord, would be most helpful. I would be grateful."

"No, she is 16." He said quietly sipping his wine.

"You know her age milord?" Gwynne questioned, he knew far more than he let on. How to get the information out of him would be the difficult matter.

"It is not a difficult calculation." Alterian set the goblet down and turned to look at the young man who had interupted his work. "Jolene's father killed a man. The blood price was more then he had. He was forced to sell his lands to pay the family of his victim. I have not seen his family since." He sighed. "Anything else?"

"Do you recall how much the blood price was milord?" Gwynne asked.

"That information is not yours to have." Alterian answered. "I am sorry, Sir Gwynne, you dig into matters best left alone."

Gwynne bowed slightly to the Lord, something he still was not accustomed to, for his entire life people had bowed to him. "Milord, I am a knight, I serve the King well I hope. But, I am duty bound to assist a damsel, the Lady Burke is under my protection, I have sworn an oath before witnesses," he told the lord. "I only wish to know the lass of which I protect and I have become quite taken with her," Gwynne said honestly. But then he was taken by every pretty girl he knew for that matter. The more options left open, the better chance for a wife, he smiled at the thought.

"And where is Lady Burke?" Alterian asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Traveling towards Brendaine City milord," Gwynne lied, not wanting the lass to be in danger. He didn't like the look on Alterian's face as he asked that question.

"I see. Then it is no longer an issue." He pointed out, knowing the knight had just lied. IF the lady was truly headed north, the knight would not be so persistent.

"I will take my leave milord, I thank you for your time," he bowed slightly and waited to be excused again something Gwynne had trouble getting used too. Royalty rarely bowed to anyone. But he was not royal any longer.

"As you will." Alterian said quietly. His eyes never left the young man as he withdrew.

At least he knew more about the lass than he had. With the information he had now, he could find a former servant somewhere, anywhere, someone who might be able to reveal more to him and without Alterian's knowledge. He was already looking forward to the next night the lass would be singing, both to see her and to reveal to her what he knew.

Despite Sir Huges' promise to tell Amlyn what had been going on in Nethbo, he later offered no information, and Amlyn did not bother to even ask. He considered that none of their problems were his concern, and left it at that. Instead, they rode for about two days in almost complete silence, stopping along the way only to rest and eat. By this stage they were nearing the first major population centre in Nethbo, a town said to contain around fifteen hundred souls called Dol. As before, Amlyn could tell they were drawing close by the pallour of smoke that could be seen to drift lazily about the treetops. Upon seeing the outskirts of the town, it was clear that many houses had been set alight and destroyed.

The streets were mostly empty. The main road into town had been set with cobblestones, and the clack of the shod hooves of the horses echoed amongst the deserted houses. Occasionally, Amlyn could see people staring at them from down laneways or through open windows. They all seemed to have the same, wary sort of expression, as if their presence would bring yet another outburst of violence that they no longer had the tolerance or patience for. Signs of that violence were clearly visible: bodies hung from the skeletons of trees, reeking of the odour of decay, while near the centre of town they passed a uncovered wagon piled high with more corpses. Amlyn caught Sir Huges watching him carefully, but he ignored any inference that could have been made about the reasons why.

Eventually they left Dol behind, and the group stopped again to set camp for the night next to a small grove of trees. Before Amlyn could dismount, Sir Huges approached him and waited for a few moments, examining the one-armed knight carefully before finally speaking.

"Ya don't talk much," he grunted. "Which I like. I hate peoples who yap-yap-yap like those small rat-like dogs with no brains and no bite to match all that barkin'." He threw a leg over the back of his horse and dismounted smoothly. "I hate talkin' too, but I think it's time ya learnt a bit about what's happening. Not that I'm obliged to say, mind you. But I get the impression you'd not be in any position to criticise. I'd reckon you've seen all this before. And it bores ya," he added with a smirk.

"... You would be close," Amlyn replied. He worked patiently on the rope holding him fast to the saddle.

"Aye, I'd guess I would." He plonked himself down at the foot of a nearby tree and pulled his chain coif back, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. He seemed content to wait for Amlyn to finish untying himself from his mount. As Amlyn stepped down and began assorting items from his packhorse, he continued to speak.

"There were two sides. Same story in any war, ain't it? One supports the King - others support those who would overthrow him. In this case, it's another one of the Quarters, as expected." Huges reached for a nearby twig and began to vigorously snap it between his fingers, occasionally waving it around to make a point as he went on. "See, there are four major families who have traditionally contested each other to determine who rules in Nethbo. The King hailed from one of these families, what was up until now the most prominant one. The other three generally provided both martial support and the incentive of fear - if the ruling house becomes too weak or stagnant, then one of the others makes a move and takes power, generally with the support of the other houses. Four houses, four families - hence four quarters of power."

Amlyn threw down his bedroll and knelt next to it, untying the straps that held it bound up in a coil.

"Well, this time we're being ruled by an outsider. A woman who has the ability ta take the King's life and seduce an entire Quarter to back her claim for the throne. We all know that she didn't kill King Dafydd herself, but that doesn't matter. If you have those sort of contacts who can do away with rulers, that in itself makes ya a significant threat. Having one of the houses elevate you to that position only tends to legitimise things."

He tossed away the sticks and rubbed the same hand through his beard fitfully. "But what sticks in my craw," he added, lowering his voice so that he couldn't be heard by other nearby knights, "Is that overthrowing a ruler is *normally* done in a certain manner, for us anyway. When a ruler knows that their time is up, they usually stand aside and allow their Quarter to remain intact. What goes around, comes around, eh? But *this* time, firstly the King goes somewhat overboard in his attack on Abertawe and his later defense of power when everything was falling apart. And secondly, the new Queen has basically set about eradicating the entire King's Quarter, families and all. It's whispered that lleucu shared the King's bed leading up to the attack on your Kingdom, so I suspect she's not only set up his downfall, but now she's setting about removing his legacy once and fer all."

His bed now set up for the night, Amyln rummaged through his bags again for some smoked fish and a bladder of water.

"Perhaps it wouldn't be so bloody bad, if she hadn't dragged this stinking church into things. We spend our time riding about the countryside with these idiotic banners presenting some unified front of the one god. Her first decree was to make ritual worship of the pagan gods banned, and to make any offence heresy and punishable by death. It seems there is no shortage of zealots now ready to take to the countryside - and they are fast being made up of people from the remaining two houses who chose to stand back and do nothing. It's a cunning move I'll admit - dangle the dead corpse of an entire house in front of their noses and promise forgiveness in exchange for service to the church of the tau.

"What makes you think I'm not a member of the church," interjected Amlyn, chewing on a piece of trout.

"Pfa! No offence, but you appear to be the last sort of person who would turn ta religion. Though I certainly would like to know where you got yer crest from." He paused and shot Amlyn a look of scrutiny.

Amlyn said nothing but sat down with food and water in hand.

"I didn't think ye'd answer that," grinned Huges. "Anyhow, it's clear that the church has significant backing from the outside. I hail originally from Brest, which is the port city for Nethbo. I've never in all my life seen it's wharves so full of ships. Big, majestic bastards, most of them flying that damned cross. While we still cling to the shoreline like maggots to a corpse, these people have saltwater coarsing through their veins - not to mention the words of the one god flowing from their lips." Huges frowned. "It's gettin' to the point where I wonder if I even know my own home anymore."

Taking a swig of water, Amlyn mused on the information he had been given. Sir Huges had fallen to a thoughtful silence as well, as his squire prepared his evenings place of rest. The fact that these people bore the same crest that Nwython wore was disturbing. But given that these people expected him, and that Nwython was supposed to have organised the events that were to occur here, it didn't come as a real surprise. Was the Queen a seperate entity, linked only by a working association with the church? Or was she a lackey of his former tutor? If what Sir Hughes said was true, and that Lleucu had pushed Dafydd to war with Abertawe in order to weaken him enough to take over, then it was clear that the church of the tau was eager to meddle with kingdoms and sacrifice lives. Nwython could very well have either helped Lleucu, or been the one behind her pulling the strings. He couldn't tell which was the truth, or if there was even another option. There must be someone higher up, above them both, looking in from outside Nethbo and Abertawe. Perhaps this went all the way back to Llydaw, where he had first met Nwython. Questions, questions, questions. He chased them from his mind, lest his brain melt from drawing endless implications from his suspicions.

"Well? Can ya shed a little more light on what all this means?" prodded Sir Huges.

Amlyn smiled grimly. "I know less than you," he lied. "I am here on a task, and once I complete it, I will leave this kingdom."

"Aye. 'None of my business.' I've heard that sort of denial before." Annoyed he climbed to his feet. "But let me warn ya. Our problem may soon be your problem, if this Queen takes a liking to adding more to her plate. And from what I've seen, she'll do a damn fine better job than Dafydd." He then stalked away.

It was the first, and last, frank discussion that they both would ever share again. Four days later, the group of knights made their way around the shores of Loch Carew, and witnessed the foreboding dark walls of Ruthin, the capital of Nethbo.

Isa sat in her quarters. She was tired and woried. Rowena still could not see very well. Her husband was like a caged animal, and worst of all, wouldn't tell her why he was so angry. It wasn't like him, not so long ago he used to share everything with her, and she wanted that time back. She also missed her elder daughter, Bronwen. Just now that the child was old enough to share things with adults, she had run away. Isa very much wanted a confident, to share things with. And then there was her eldest son, who was wounded once again. The boy had always been accident prone, she remembered him as a little boy always getting into trouble, breaking something. Yet now she was much more worried about him. It was not fair to lose two women he loved.

She was awakened from her daydreams when a servant came in. "Your highness, there is a druid here to see you."

A man dressed in three-quarter length robes of brown and green entered the room, his hood pushed back from his head to reveal a middle-aged man with brown hair turning grey at the sides. His beard was short and actually trimmed, but it also held flecks of grey throughout, and his face wore the ages of years of wandering through the outdoors. Below the hem of his robes the legs were bare, darkly tanned and shod with simple leather sandals over large feet. A large patch of scarred flesh around his left calf had apparently affected the muscle, for he walked with an unnatural stiffness in his left foot. He carried a large, crooked wooden staff with a great knot of wood at the end, nestled along his forearm like a babe. He approached the Queen mother and gave a short bow.

"I am Fagan, your highness," he began. His voice was soft and mellow,

like the lilt of a bard who practises his songs quietly to himself when noone is around. "Unfortunately, the arch-druid cannot be here at this time, and I have been sent in his stead."

"Come in," She said "Please have a seat. What can I do for you?"

"It is time for the child-seer to begin learning the ways of the druids," he said simply. "This task was to be carried out by the Archdruid, but we fear he has either been taken from us, or he chose to leave our presence for reasons only he knows. It is a cause for some concern, and the druids believe that to wait longer would be to invite disaster."

Isa really was concerned about this. Why would he leave? why now? "I want this investigated." She said. "So many strange things have been going on here lately, I need to be sure that there was no foul play."

He produced a roll of parchment from inside a satchel carried over his shoulder, and presented it to one of the servants. "This is my authority from the council, giving their voice to my claims."

Isa gave a cursory glance to the document. It generally stated that Fagan was an Ovate appointed by the council of Druids, and given the task to devote his teachings and experience to the training of Rowena ui Iowerth with the King's permission. She thought that Alterian would probably be able to examine the paper for any forgery.

"I will give you an answer on this soon." She was not going to take any risks with her young daughter at the moment. "Please accept our hospitality until then."

"As you wish, your highness. I am at your disposal." Isa had one of the servants lead the man away.

Isa beckoned another of her servants. "Please get lord Alterian to me right away." Until he arrived she had time to think. She was annoyed that nobody had told her that the arch druid had left, she was beginning to think that there might be more that people didn't tell her. And it was time that she became more active again. Iorwerth was a good man, a great soldier, but he just was not a politician. And it was time that she took over that role from him again, and she would have to convince Alterian to work with her. There was a spark in Her eye, that had been missing for a long long time.

Alterian entered the room and bowed low before the Queen Mother. "You wished to see my lady?" He asked politely.

"Yes, my lord." She handed him the parchment. "I want you to test this, and I also want you to do a background check on Druid Fagan. I'm not taking any risks with my daughter." She came to her feet and walked toward him. "Why was I not informed that the arch druid is missing, my lord?"

"Your Lord husband has asked that no one bring you news to further upset you as your health as not been at it's best, Your Grace." He stood quietly and honestly before her. He respected this woman a great deal. He took the parchement from her hands.

"I am not ill anymore, my lord." Then she realized it wasn't his fault. "This upsets me much more. You had better brief me fully, Lord Alterian, because I now realize that it is not A good idea to have my husband act as Regent. he is too hot headed for it."

Alterian nodded for a moment. "You had better sit down." He answered quietly. He did not think the queen mother would like what he was going to tell her. He began with Bronwen, taking no chances and assuming she knew something. She went on to the current noble situation, the problems with Nethbo and its uncertain rulership. He ended with Lord Iowerth's recent trip to accost the Lady Morgan.

Isa took a deep breath, it was much worse than she had feared. And from the looks of it Iorwerth had done nothing to help, he had made things worse. Again she thanked the gods that her brother in law had been wise enough to name his nephew as ruler and not his brother.

"My lord, I knew something about my daughter. We will have to appease the nobles. That I think is our main concern at the moment. We need peace in the land. Do you have any suggestions? I think we will have to give Bron's husband a title and land. Maybe in a while then they will think of him as one of theirs."

"Perhaps it can be "discovered" that the lad really is nobility. There is more to the youth then meets the eye for he has funds and a small manor house. It would not take much to embelish the truth even higher. Perhaps, he is the lost heir of..?" Alterian smiled at her.

Isa smiled back. "I think we understand each other, my lord. I can trust you to arrange matters? Come back to me when you have a proposal in mind about the boy. But take care of the druid First, Alterian. And can I trust you to keep me posted from now on?"

"As you command, your majesty." Alterian bowed low before the lady. All within the castle respected her a great deal. "May I ask in what manner you whish the druid taken care of?"

"If he checks out all right, I will ask him to stay here as teacher to Rowena. Until you are sure, treat him as a guest." She said.

"As you command." He said with a bow and slowly withdrew leaving the lady to her thoughts.

Stage One: Survival
in the camp **********

"Are. We. Set." Moira asked, each word said through her clenched teeth.

"Aye cap'ain...I can get inta the cas'le," a voice from the shadows assured her.

"Good." Moira turned towards her maps grimly, slightly uneasy about her plans. "Wait. Where is Bear? I have need of his counsel." Moira said, halting the person in their tracks.

"'e is with Sparrow." the person said, dark brown eyes glittering with malice. "Who is with Raven." the person went on. "Who are all with yer daughter."

Moira froze at the six words. "I expect that of Sparrow...perhaps even Raven, the stupid tart, but Bear?" for a moment Moira felt hurt, an emotion she hadn't felt in the years since her daughter had been returned to her. She faltered, thinking maybe she was wrong. She shook her head violently, one of her braids whipping across her cheek causing a welt. "Deal with them too if you can. If not..." she let the words drop.

The person grinned, her smile more feral then human, before darting out of the back of the tent into the woods. Moira barely noticed her going. She sat in her chair, fingers steepled as she thought about the next few days. 'Life is change.' one of her mentors had said as she slashed his stomach in two. 'Nothing else matters but survival.'

Slowly she nodded, a grim smile forming. "Survival is what matters." she whispered.

Stage Two: Family In the castle

"Renny...Renny Bear is back." Sparrow said gently shaking her shoulder to rouse her.

"Be-ar..." Renny responded, her eyes fluttering open.

"You seem more like a lady then an outlaw Illances." Bear teased, giving her a peck on the forehead.

"News?" Renny asked, sitting up with some effort. Sparrow offered his arm, but Renny waved him weakly away. "What did Nia say?"

"She will be here with the boy in less then a hour's time..." Raven put in excitedly. "So who's this boy Renny?" she asked, relishing in the darkening look on Sparrow's face.

"He claims to have known me...in truth I remember him a bit. Like a dream...hazy and constantly eluding me when I need to remember." Renny replied, frowning as she tried to remember more. "He was much younger though..."

"What do you need then?" sparrow interupted her musing sharply. Renny glanced at him angrily and he modified his tone. "Are they coming to see Renny or we see them?"

"We're to meet them at the gates...we must hurry Renny, Sparrow." Bear said urgently, shifting his weight uneasily. "Your mother would have noticed our-uh-absence by now."

Renny nodded, sighing. "This still seems surreal. Mother is changed..." Renny said softly with real regret.

"Bitterness and power-hunger changes people," Bear said gently.

"I suppose." Renny relucantly agreed. "Still want the truth about my father and her...but if this goes as we expect it..." she trailed off.

"I'll help you along Renny." Sparrow told her, placing an arm around her waist. She smiled gratefully and the quartet filed solemnly out of the room to the gates. +++

The Kingdom of Nethbo has a long and proud history of skill at arms and the glory of victory in battle. The walls of the capital Ruthin were a testimony to this past. They stood the height of at least five men, made from stones carved from quarries of dark granite. There were four tall poles, two on each side of the massive main gate, and three bore the standards of what Amlyn was told were the remaining three Quarters of the major families. The last pole bore the familiar white flag with a gold tau cross.

A knight, clad in chain and bearing a surcoat with the same crest as the white flag was waiting for them to one side, on a large white charger. As the group of mounted men approached, a page boy came forward and hailed them. "Sir Knights," he cried, "my Lord has issue with one of thee, the knight of sable, a tau cross gules. My lord demands that they meet in battle, and fight to the death under the judgement of god."

"What issue is this that your master speaks of?" said Amlyn. He did not recognise the other knight, for they wore a thin veil of chain links over their face to hide their features. "And what is their name?"

The page boy was obviously prepared for such an answer. However his blond hair and blue eyes belied an innocence that showed he really understood little about what he was talking about. "My lord would reply that 'thou crest and colors speak of thy treachery and lies, and thou has murdered and maimed many a god-fearing soul. Death is punishment long-overdue for thee, for the terror you have spawned in the lives of many'. My lord also wishes that you go to your grave knowing not the face of your deliverer, as many went to their deaths at your hand knowing not why or for what cause."

"So be it," Amlyn replied with scorn. "As I am challenged, the conditions of the duel are therefore mine to determine. Tell your lord, we will dismount and fight hand to hand without shields. Go."

The page ran back to the knight, while Amlyn unfastened himself from the saddle. Sir Huges rode up to him. "Ya seem to have a way with making friends," he said with a slight hint of humour. "Though I'd remind ya that this is hardly a suitable announcement for yer arrival."

"The choice isn't mine," he snapped.

"Aye, tis not. Then perhaps an ounce of mercy might be wise - should you win of course."

"There is never any mercy for those who would willingly bring you death," he muttered, half as a rebuke to the well-fed knight, and half to himself as a means of motivation. He unsheathed his black sword and strode forward, eager to finish the matter quickly and leave none with no doubt as to his strength of purpose. *You will be next Guaire*, he thought viciously to himself, as a chorus of voices began to rise in his mind.

Watching from his vantage point, Sir Huges placed little hope for the one armed knight. The unknown knight began to move forward, drawing their sword, and it was then that Amlyn produced a sudden surge of speed, lunging forward directly into the range of his opponent's sword. Wide-eyed, Huges watched as the unknown knight quickly struck downwards with their sword, seeking to smite Amlyn on the head. It was then that Amlyn lowered his body and shrunk away to one side by by pivoting off one foot, avoiding the descent of the whistling blade and pushing forward past the blow at the same time. Amlyn's sword somehow now rested in a reverse grip, where the blade extended out from the bottom of his fist, trailing lengthwise along his body. In a strike more akin to slashing with a dagger, the metal fanned out from the side of his body like a bird's wing as he moved past the unknown knight, slashing into their chest under their sword arm in a solid blow. Amlyn emerged from behind the knight unscathed, while his opponent clutched at their side, having only just completed the initial sword stroke that had missed. Amlyn made sure he was out of range of a counter-attack, and then turned about to look at his opponent, an expression of vicious vindication upon his face.

One stroke. The unknown knight stumbled forward, one hand over their wound and the other gripped around their blade which wavered with shock. They then turned about, perhaps seeking to continue the fight. But the wound was deep, and the knight fell to the ground, sword tumbling from their grasp. Amlyn stepped forward and used the point of his sword to lift the veil away from the knight's face. "See who you have slain, cursed one," the knight said for the first time.

Amlyn's eyes widened with horror, the voices abruptly silenced. "Melangell!" (#) he cried, casting aside his blood-stained sword and throwing himself onto his knees, next to the dying form of the only woman he had ever loved.

"A fie on thee," she gurgled, as frothy bubbles of bright red blood collected at the corner of her mouth. "Thou art a liar and a coward, an evil man. Hrrrk."

"Why? Why hide yourself?" He pulled her into his lap and placed a hand hard over the cut in her chest. He could hear a sucking noise between his fingers as her chest rose and fell erratically.

"You would not... fight me had thou known," she gasped. "I would kill thee with the honour that you know little of... but my spirit was weak, and the... the righteous vengeance you deserve must... must be delivered by another... it seems." Her neck was corded and tight with pain, while her face was already turning pale.

"Melangell... I had no choice. I always have no choice!"

"Liar... the old ways - Hgrih! - are the easiest. You promised me! You swore never... to do this again!" She grabbed at him feebly, and he took his hand away from the wound and clutched her hand to his chest. There was no holding back the reaper from collecting his soul. "Bastard! My husband... will hunt thee down. And I will... haunt you in... the meantime... may god... allow this." Blood dribbled down her chin as she spoke, sealing her words. Her breath came in gasps, inhaling in but not exhaling out.

"Merciful lord," moaned Amlyn under his breath. "What have I done?"

"Murder," she whispered, closing her eyes for the last time. "Amlyn..."

Her head lolled back against his arm, and her grip finally went limp.

Amlyn pushed the corpse away roughly in disbelief and shock, as if noticing a viper in his lap for the first time. He scrambled to his feet and staggered away a few steps, his stomach churning with a fire that rose to his throat and made him gag. So he fell to his knees again and vomited. The liquid burnt his throat viciously, but not with as much pain as the tears that stung his eyes.

Jolene left the drunken knight and moved towards the bar. It was late and the custom were either in their cups or leaving. She asked for a glass of watered wine. She was not used to singing so much in one night. The master of the Inn hand not yet spoken to her though she knew he had heard her perform. She also knew that they had pulled in a rare amount of coin that evening.

"Well done M'la... er... Jolene. Your song is most fair, but I think you need be a might quicker of foot if you want to keep your adoring audience at bay." Pwyll offered a broad grin to the beautiful young woman. "I think you should probably make use of our resident giant to maintain your player's honor."

Jolene could see that the little outlander was teasing her, but still she blushed in modesty.

"Seriously... Very well done, though I'd caution you to go slow. If you continue at this pace, you'll soon start repeating yourself... and if there's anything I've learned about this game, it's that you have to keep it fresh. Besides, if you impress Athel too much, you'll end up making an enemy of his apprentice." Pwyll paused to raise a cup to his lips.

Jolene could tell that he was only half joking about the apprentice. It was true her skill lay in song and not harp or lute, but it could still give rise to friction if the bard spent too much time with her. She would have to keep that in mind if she continued to play at the Swan.

Having observed the take from the evening's performance, Pwyll couldn't help but add, "I trust you now have sufficient coin for those 'small needs a woman has.'"

"I don't know. I have left it to the two players." She indicated where Athel and Lewelyth were putting away their things. She had not considered that she would create enemies by singing. "I will keep in mind your direction, but you did say I would not sing every evening," she pointed out.

"True enough lass." Pwyll gave a general nod in the direction of the remaining customers, "I think you have definitely earned a place in our humble room, though I would offer some caution in dealing with your rescuing knight. It is rumored that his heart--if not his pouch--belongs to a wealthy dark haired lady. 'Ware beauty without substance m'lady--devilishly handsome usually means handsomely devilish..."

Jolene blushed and looked at the knight somewhat guiltily for she had questioned his honor more then once. "I doubt you have worries in that quarter." She dropped him a quick curtsey. "Good Evening, Master Pwyll." Jolene was tired and looking forward to her bed.

The little outlander smiled as she ascended the stairway, "Perhaps you should just refer to me as Pwyll... I'm more comfortable with that. Gods' bless, Jolene. Sleep well."

Gwynne had been keeping track of the days and the hours ever since he found out who Jolene truly was. He had gone to great lengths to figure out her identity and her past. Her past was still a mystery to him, but in his very hand he held the proof of her nobility.

And so he packed the letters, he had written in his own hand, and fetched his cloak. Once he was dressed appropriately he left his room and descended the stairs and out into the stables. He mounted his horse and was away to the Swann as quickly as the galloping horse would allow.

Once he arrived out in front of the lively tavern, he tied his horse to a post and entered the tavern. He walked to the bar and ordered his usual bottles of rum. He looked around for the lady he was there to see, hoping he would be able to speak with her this night.

Jolene had been doing figures and correspondence for Master Pwyl. She was deeply buried in her work and not in the common room. She was unaware of the chaos that was about to befall her.

Gwynne was rather impatient and called over to him one of the pouring maids, as he called them, fretting on calling them wenches, "Milady might I inquire of the gentle young lady Jolene? Might she be available to serve me or speak with me here?" Gwynne smiled and gave the girl a few farthings. "Tell her that her protector is here to see her," Gwynne smiled.

The woman's eyes flew wide. She had not known that Jolene had taken a protector. "Yes milord." She scooted off to relay the message but not before whispering it to another of the tavern women. This news quickly spread amongst the staff.

Gwynne waited patiently for Jolene. It seemed to take longer than he had expected. Would she come to meet him? Was she still upset? Gwynne had no memory of passing out on the table with her near so he didn't know to be concerned about that as well. He had worn his newest costume, a blue velvet robe and tunic, shiny new light blue stockings, the finest black boots. He looked quite handsome. His long blonde hair was unbound and flowed down to his shoulders, thick and clean.

Jolene finally entered the room and came to his table. Her eyes flashed with indignation. "What, not passing out on the table?" She asked scathingly. "For you must be drunk to have done what you have done this day. If I were a man, I would call you out for the blight you have cast upon my honor." Her voice was a low and angry whisper.

Gwynne looked at her with a smile at first and as the stinging arrows left her tongue, the look changed from happiness to confusion. "What is it that is troubling you milady? What is wrong? For I am only your protector? I am not your lover, nor suitor. I vowed I would protect you and I shall. I have come to speak with you this night about important matters, whatever troubles you milady, saddens me," Gwynne replied soothingly, kindly. He knew a soft answer turneth away wrath.

"Do you have any idea what a protector is amongst the lower orders?" She hissed still furious with him.

Gwynne looked at the lass with great concern. He had always been among the nobility, even when he traveled he was never around peasantry but alone. "I am sorry milady, I do not?" he looked at her, questions in his eyes.

She sat down and leaned close. "You just declared to the tavern, for I doubt Meg will keep from spreading the tale, that you have paid exclusively for my services."

Gwynne's eyes grew wide with shock and alarm, it was clear that he had never expected anyone to think such a thing. He was only implying real protection not anything seedy like whoredom. "My dear lady, I am sorry, I am mortified, that was not my intent. I will right this misunderstanding, my sincere apologies--- I did not--- I never intended such an idea to be spread about. I am just a gallant knight milady?" Gwynne replied, mortification written all over his face and deep within his eyes. He was truly sorry.

"And many a knight and lord have mistresses of the lower orders." She pointed out. She knew full well that this was true and that he, if he graced court, knew it too.

Gwynne frowned, "Milady I am sorry. How may I make amends and restore your honor? I only wish to befriend you. And someday have the honor of escorting you on a walk, my intentions are honorable and those of a gentleman," he bowed his head slightly as he would to any true, noble lady. "I am humbly sorry milady, I meant you no harm, nor your reputation and I shall do anything to restore your good virtue," he added.

"I am not sure that you can. The damage is done." She said with a sigh. She could already feel the calculating looks. She was glad that Master Pwyl did not know how old she really was. She had taken great pains to wear her mother's clothing and to wear her hair in a mature style. "What did you want?"

"I could marry you milady? Then no one would be able to whisper about us, for we would be joined in the sight of Jesu!" he suggested. "I came here to speak to you about your past. I have done some searching in the records. You are sixteen summers, hold the title Lady Jolene Burke and are a victim of a terrible injustice, both you and your family," he paused and showed her the documents he had inscribed days ago. "Copied by my own hand milady, from the very records of the Caer itself," he replied, taking great care in keeping his voice low the entire time he spoke.

As he spoke, color drained from the lady's face. "I did not ask you to research my past. Why did you do this? You don't know... I .. I.. " Her eyelids fluttered and it looked as if the lady were about to faint to the floor.

"I only did this to help milady," Gwynne acted quickly and held the lass upright so she would not fall, he was again oblivious to the onlookers. He was only concerned with the lasses well-being. "I believed by knowing your history and having proof that I could somehow restore you to your noble standing and help your family regain it's honor and get you out of here. You are a lady, the sins of your father, guilty or not, should not be brought heavily upon you," Gwynne said in sadness. "I only wish to help."

He was still holding her upright and he found himself mesmerized by her beautiful eyes. "Just to help," he said breathlessly.

"You cannot help." Her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head and wrenched herself away from him. She turned and fled, her eyes filled with tears. She scooted around Niall hoping he would stop the knight from following her. She hadn't spoken to the large man but she knew he kept the custom in line.

"I can help milady! I assure you I can!" he said to her, when she fled from his grasp, he followed after her. He wasn't sure why, everything he did concerning her seemed to go terribly wrong when it was not his intention. He followed close, hoping to at least calm her and dry her tears.

Niall propped his giant frame against the wall which was next to the door leading to the kitchen room. He knew something was amiss when he saw the new bard come out with a bit of anger in her pace and her face. Niall observed the two converse and decided to stand more attentive. Just as he expected, the bard came in a rush to stand behind him with tears in her face. And, also as expected, the well-dressed man was in hot pursuit. Niall never understood why these aristocrats had to pester the common folk and it reminded him of his parents. Not exactly a pleasant memory as his mother was a peasant woman and his father was a nobleman.

Niall just shook his head as he stepped out and blocked the path of the noble. The noble was no small man but, next to Niall, looked more like a teenager. "I'm none to sher if yer gettin' the picture here, fella, but this lady of the Swan doesn't wish yer company, and I would be might obliged if you would leave her to her business. We wouldn't want things ta get ugly, now would we?" Niall flashed the noble his best smile, a smile that typically brought childhood visions of monster eating children for fun, hence Niall's nickname . the ogre.

"Now my good man, I am Sir Gwynne Hawley, I am trying to help the girl not hurt her. You know what the penalty is for attacking a knight of Abertawe? A knight of the King? I do not suggest you touch me my good man, I mean the lass no harm, I have information for her. I'm on business of the King, would you stop a Knight who is on the King's business? Step aside please and you won't be put into the dungeons," Gwynne smiled. For he indeed could have the man arrested and no one would ask why.

"Now if yer truly here to help a woman in distress than I suggest you either wait until she actually asks for it, or you talk to the master of this place and let him decide if what you need to say is worth her ears a hearin'. If you put yerself in my position and observed things the way I did, then you should be able to respect the fact that I too am only protecting her. The difference is she asked me for protection . it doesn't look like she asked you." Niall crossed his arms to signify he was done.

Niall glanced around the room to see that it had gotten quiet and everyone was staring. He also realized that those were the most words he had ever said at once and some of these people actually thought he couldn't speak.

"Then I shall do so, fetch good ol' Pwyl and I'll have him obey the King. Either that or I could give you a little something for your trouble and you could look away for a moment?" Gwynne smiled. He showed the large man a few shillings, more than he could earn in a half a year here with Pwyl. "I will not harm her, I merely wish to speak with her Niall, you can be at her side if you wish? Or I will go to Pwyl or even report this all to the King? Which would you prefer?" Gwynne smiled, dangling the few shillings in front of Niall, letting the firelight of the hearth put gleams upon the coins.

Once Niall had begun to speak, the young lady in question had slipped from the common room. It was bad enough to lose her composure. Worse that all in the Swan now thought her a woman of loose character but she could not stand that she was the center of such negative attention. She hurried back to her work but stared at miserably, wondering what else was being said and too upset to go and listen.

Niall stared at all the eyes in the room which were staring at these two and began to laugh. "I'll wager that the king's name would not have to involve bribery, if the task at hand were really for the king." Niall found amusement that this fellow thought him some poor wretch. The knight must not pay attention to the bar gossip or he would know that Niall's income came from pit fighting. If all went well, Niall would soon have himself a piece of land that would make a few nobles jealous . and the coin to run it.

Niall could tell the knight was more for reasoning than for fighting and relaxed, "I hope you understand that I'll not let you pass until Master Pwyll has ok'd it. You'll have to ask Swithen where he is, though, for he is not presently in the establishment. Can you not understand that if a lady does not wish to be spoken to, that it would be a man's duty to respect that wish. Give her time, and if whatever you have told her thus far is something to benefit her, she'll come around. You'll see.

"I have my responsibilities to get back to, Why not head back to your bar seat and wait there for Master Pwyll. I'll have Swithen set a drink out for you on the house." Niall hoped the knight understood that the conversation between the two was over and that he would not see the new bard at this time. Niall looked towards the bar and noticed Swithen smiling at him holding up the knight's drink already.

"Fine Niall, I will not forget this. However I will speak to Pwyl, I am one of his finest customers. I have not harmed the lady, I would never harm the lady, I was only trying to help. I will give Pwyl a letter for the lass and leave it at that. Pwyl will not receive my business this evening," Gwynne replied. He was upset but did not grow violent, he was a man of wisdom and knowledge and would always use words before violence.

Gwynne walked away from the big giant and returned to his bar stool. Instead of getting a drink of ale or rum, he asked Swithen for a quill and parchment.

"Dearest Lady Jolene,

My sincerest apologies for any slight or pain I might have caused you. Please know that my heart is in the right place. I wish you no harm and only want to see your family reborn and noble, and wish to see you smile and taken from this tavern to sing for royalty.

Your voice is beautiful and your visage more lovely than the most striking flower. I will not hide my affection. I am sorry that everything I do seems to be a mistake with you, and humbly regret my actions. I wish to restore your honor and name and hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me and to see me again.

Yours faithfully in honor,

Sir Gwynne Hawley
Holder of the Crest of Topaz"

He returned the ink and quill back to Swithen and went back to Niall. "Give her this letter please? Surely a simple letter will not harm her?" Gwynne suggested.

Niall smiled at the knight and accepted the letter, "I'll see to it that she gets it."

The time of the fight had come. Niall stood in the back corner of The Flaming Griffin behind a curtain to hide him from the people's view. The room was packed beyond anyone's expectations and the crowd was getting antsy for the action about to take place. The room was so loud Niall could barely here his trainer, Morrigan. Through a gap in the curtain Niall could see Shorty talking with Pwyll and Niall was sure that the smile on their faces had something to do with the place being packed and lots of money changing hands.

As if with perfect timing to the crowd's over-rowdiness, the swinging front doors flung open and in walked Feagh and his entourage. The overcrowded room some how managed to find a way to part and make an opening for these newcomers. Amidst Feagh's men stood their prizefighter. Just as Pwyll's spies revealed, Niall's opponent was a monster. Niall had never seen a man rival his size before. This man was a lean muscular version of Niall. His nose was twisted from the numerous times it had been broken and he looked, if it were at all possible, a tad bit uglier than Niall.

Right on queue, the man standing center ring spoke in a loud voice to gain everyone's attention, Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen!" The crowd erupted for they knew the fight was now at hand. "Tonight's fight pits two beasts from beyond! A true clash of titans! Champion vvsss. Chammpionn!" again the crowd roared. "I ask … ARE YOU READY!" Everyone rose to there feet cheering. "I said … ARE YOU RREADDYY!" The crowd went wild and the building shook from the commotion. "For the hundreds here in attendance … LET'S GET READY TO RRRUUUMMMBBBLLEEE!!!" The announcer stood center ring for five minutes before the noise died down.

"Making his way to the ring amidst the minion's of Feagh with a record of twenty three and zero all by knockout. Six men have died from his ferocious strength. The Right Hand of Feagh … Mickey 'The Demon' Donnovan!!" A few cheers sounded but were quickly quenched by the thunderous boo that fell in unison from the crowd's lips.

"Now making his way from the back corner accompanied by his outlander trainer, Morrigan, with a record of nineteen and zero also all of them by way of knockout. The Sentinel of The Swan, The People's Champion … your very own Niall ap Gavin … THE OOGGRREE!!" The crowd went nuts as Niall stepped from behind the curtain and soon everyone was chanting 'Ogre, Ogre'. Niall had never in his life seen this kind of hysteria over him and his head began to swim. Morrigan placed his hand on Niall's shoulder and whispered, "block out the noise and concentrate." Niall shook his head and focused on the man in the ring as he made his way through the crowd.

Soon both men were staring into each other's faces. Mickey stood about a nose length shorter than Niall but he carried himself as if he was the giant. 'The Demon' growled at Niall like a beast going in for the kill. Niall was some what amused by the display and flashed his award winning 'I'm gonna eat you and your children' ogre-ish smile. Mickey actually flinched from the monster's smile.

Before long the bell sounded and the two men met in the center of the ring. The Demon went at Niall from the get go. It was a typical move to show that he was not afraid of Niall. What Niall wasn't ready for was the strength of Mickey's punches. As Niall bobbed and weaved to avoid some of the punches, Niall also realized the speed that his opponent possessed. Niall coasted through what was supposed to be the first round but it donned on him that the only rule to this match was fight until someone is knocked out or forfeits. That's when The Demon caught him with a hook.

Niall lay on the floor with blood pouring from his now broken nose. 'One, two …' Niall pulled himself to his knees and shook his head. 'Three, four …' Niall gazed at the crowd here various screams of 'get up!' from the corner of his eye he could see Pwyll stand up. 'Five, six …' Niall had heard enough and rose to his feet. He may have been caught off guard from the shot, but it wasn't going to keep him out of this fight.

Pwyll leaned over to Shorty, "Now he's mad. 'The Demon had better watch out." Shorty smiled back at Pwyll.

Niall could taste the blood on his lips and began to get angry. As Mickey stepped forward to continue the fight, Niall threw an uppercut the caught The Demon right on the chin. Mickey staggered back and Niall threw a hook landing on Mickey's jaw. Again, The Demon staggered back, but as Niall came forward, Mickey jabbed Niall on his nose causing Niall to flinch. Mickey went on the offensive landing various blows to Niall's face and within moments Niall was on the floor again.

The crowd gasped as Niall hit the floor. Niall shook his head in anger. The Demon was possibly too strong and fast for Niall and Niall was getting nervous. Too much was riding on this fight. Now was not the time to earn that first defeat. 'Three, four …' Niall looked at Feagh as he laughed for joy from the current events. Niall would not be owned by any man and rose to his feet before the count of eight.

Niall struggled to catch his breath as The Demon began swinging once Niall was on his feet. Niall ducked and swerved but could not keep from getting hit. Somehow Niall could sense the disappointment from the crowd as he hit the floor one more time.

Niall looked a mess with his left eye swollen shut from cuts above his left eyebrow and cheekbone as well as the swelling from his broken nose. Niall could see Morrigan rising to his feet and thought he was going to throw in the towel in forfeit. That's when a familiar face was at the edge of the ring staring at Niall.

"Feagh said he's gonna put you in my care when you lose … you deformed freak! I'm gonna work you until you die for what you did to me and I'm gonna put your dogs in pit fights of there own and watch them die as well." Ula said as he laughed and walked away.

'Seven, eight …' Niall could see his trainer throw the towel in the air. Pwyll hung his head in defeat.

"NNOOO!!" Niall screamed as he managed to get to one knee and grab the towel before it hit the floor. Niall's faces was twisted in anger and rage pulse through his veins. As he got to his feet his eyes rested on Ula. Niall's body shook and he screamed. It was a bestial scream full of revenge and the place fell silent. Niall's eyes never left Ula who froze at the sight of Niall and urinated from fear. Niall then turned to face 'The Demon'.

Mickey quickly hooked Niall across the face, but Niall whipped his head back around and stared at Mickey with evil eyes. This took Mickey by surprise and Niall put all his weight behind a right fist, which landed straight on Mickey's ribs. The Demon rose off the ground from the impact and more than a few people heard the crunching sound of broken ribs.

Niall didn't stop there. He began to vision Ula's face on Mickey and threw a right hand with all his might breaking Mickey's nose and sending blood everywhere. The Demon staggered back and Niall kept swinging in rage with three more shots landing to the face of the bloody Mickey. The Demon would still not go down.

Niall glanced at Ula who still remained frozen where he stood. Niall's anger swelled through out his body and he took it out on Mickey. One more hellish punch from Niall once again to The Demon's ribs * crack * sent him down to one knee. The crown roared with excitement. Feagh rose to his feet, "GET UP!" This grabbed Mickey's attention and he rose to his feet and shook his head. Niall could see Mickey struggle to breathe from the broken ribs, but The Demon came forward for more. Niall landed a left to the gut releasing all the air from Mickey's lungs and bending him over. Niall growled as he threw a right upper cut using every ounce of strength he had left. The Demon's head snapped back and he was lifted off the ground from the impact. Mickey lay in the corner … unconscious.

Niall staggered as the count reached ten and the match was over. Niall head swerved from the punishment he took and the yelling in The Flaming Griffin, but he didn't have time to fall over as Morrigan and the rest of the crowd entered the ring, grabbed hold of Niall, and lifted his hand in the air to declare him the winner. Niall rotated his head all around the building in search of Pwyll, but instead noticed Feagh speak to his goons who pulled out small clubs and entered the ring near Mickey. Most everyone in the place was unaware of what was happening in the ring as they were celebrating, but Niall could tell, by the way Feagh's men were staring at him, that Niall was in for another beating. Niall's mind drifted to that night he was beat unconscious and, out of instinct, Niall charged the three men launching his body into them. Niall and the thugs went flying into the ring post breaking it, and everyone sprawled onto the floor.

"No one will die here today!" Niall yelled as he stood up and stared at Feagh's men still lying on the floor. "Call your goons off!" Niall yelled turning to Feagh.

Feagh glanced around the room and saw Pwyll's men coming forward. Feagh looked at his three men on the ground and signaled for them to get up. Like herded sheep they fell in behind Feagh who stared at Pwyll. "You little runt! It's a wonder your mother didn't strangle you in yer crib!" Feagh shouted even as a half dozen outlanders continued their advance.

With a quick motion from Pwyll the outlanders stopped moving forward. Pwyll knew damn well that the crowd held more of Feagh's men and that a fight here and now would give the bastard a perfect excuse to go back on his wager, but still he couldn't let the insult rest. "Funny that partner. I was just wondering how yer mother managed to get a frog's prick up her hole in order to piss you out."

The returned insult had the desired effect. Feagh tensed and his hand dropped to the handle of his sword. He took a step forward, but even as he did so he managed to will himself to stop.

The formerly boisterous crowd was now almost silent. While a few took the opportunity to quietly exit through back ways, the majority just stood and waited--their eyes hungry for more action, more blood. From various quarters of the tavern the ominous rasp of metal against wood could be heard as blades were quietly drawn from scabbards.

The two short leaders stared at each other across the ring weighing the consequences of an attack. While both looked forward to a fight, neither wanted to appear the aggressor. For in spite of their true strength, both knew that real power flowed from the local population and their perception of right and wrong. To be judged a liar or a cheat would be far more damaging than losing a simple fight... it could spell doom even for the victor. Hence both waited for the other to give the order to move.

It was Feagh who finally made the decision to attack. He raised his left hand and signaled his men to advance. But even as he stepped forward he realized that something was wrong. While the three men behind him moved forward as he advanced, the dozens he had scattered about the room made no move. He stopped abruptly mid way across the ring, and looked wildly about. Here and there he could see his men standing in the crowd, but none made moves to join their chieftain in the ring. "Cran! Cwtta! Get down here!" he shouted into the crowd. None moved.

Pwyll and Niall were just as puzzled by the lack of activity in the crowd. They looked through the audience to find their own men, and were greeted by shrugs from those they identified. It looked as though the fight would be postponed.

Feagh's confidence was rapidly ebbing away as he stood in the ring facing the ogre and the little outlander. It was at this moment that a tall figure chose to emerge from the crowd. "Severn! What's happening?" Feagh asked as the newcomer approached.

Severn slowly shook his head. "Feagh, Feagh." His accented voice made Feagh sound like Feik. "Curragh has been most disappointed in they way you have been handling his affairs lately." Feagh blanched as Severn spoke. "He suggests that it's time for you take a journey. Maybe you should visit Amwythig or perhaps Dinas Dwr."

"But... but..." was all Feagh could manage to spit out, even as Severn signaled to men from the crowd.

"No Feagh. Curragh insists," Severn motioned for Feagh to be removed.

Before being escorted out of the hall Feagh turned and cast a withering glance back at Pwyll and Niall. It was clear to the two men that they would have a mortal enemy as long as that man remained alive.

Severn now directed his attention to the outlander and his big friend. "I believe a wager was made. Curragh wants to make sure the debt is paid, and seeks a permanent truce. Arrangements will be made tomorrow."

Pwyll simply nodded by way of acknowledgement, and the tall Norseman turned and departed trailed by Feagh's former henchmen--four of whom picked up the Demon and carried him between them.

The crowd began to mutter in disappointment that there would be no further evening's entertainment, when Pwyll gave a signal to Shorty.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The Ogre and the owner of the Swan would like to offer one and all a free round, while I fill you in on the details of next month's attractions!" Shorty shouted above the grumbling crowd. The audience almost instantly regained its exuberance and in short order was back to shouting, singing and drinking as if nothing had happened.

Niall smiled as he looked down at Pwyll, "I think I'm gonna need those medicine people again." Niall put his hand to his eye. It was swollen shut from the cuts above and below it as well as the swelling from his first broken nose. Niall was sore, but this was nothing compared to the beating he had received that started all of this mess.

Niall was dearly pleased with all that had occurred in his life since meeting his short friend, and Niall thanked the forest goddess for bringing them together. Niall couldn't hide his happiness and picked Pwyll up and hoisted him on to his shoulders while raising his other arm in victory. Those around the room loved the spectacle and began congratulating Niall for the win and thanking Pwyll for the drink.

As Niall smiled and thanked everyone for their support, his eyes searched the room, but as expected, no sign of Ula could be found. He wondered if the pig's dung would skip town since Feagh was being removed from his position. Oh well, it didn't really matter. Niall would get his reward, many acres of land and plenty of coin to build with. Niall, for the first time in his life, would have a home.

"Who does he think he is telling me that I don't know how to hold my tongue," Arianna said cursing Gwilym's name as she practiced her parrying techniques with her broadsword. Arianna had skill with the sword, but Iorworth could tell she was missing something. "AND ... that I need more training with the sword," Arianna stepped in with a thrust to an imaginary knight's groin. "I may not be the best, but I would gladly put his skills to the test. I watched how he handled Urianus' guards. He doesn't have any room to talk!" It was obvious Arianna was a little bit upset.

"You certainly need more practice." Iorwerth said stepping forward. "You are not guarding your body well enough. An experienced swordman would kill you in seconds." He did not add that she had talent, and that she probably could learn to be very good. " Give it up, young lady. A sword is not suited to a beautiful young woman Like you." It came out gruff, because how much he tried he was not a charmer.

Arianna shot a glance at the man. Of all the times a person could comment on women and knighthood, now, when Arianna was angry, was definitely not one of them. But Arianna was taken by surprise for she thought she was alone, nonetheless, after brief hesitation, Arianna let her mouth speak before her brain clearly thought. "There was a time, old man, when that was true, but being a knight is not all about swordplay. I may not be as skilled as some with this blade, but my mind thinks straight and fast and it is that weapon that I will find a way to beat my opponent." Despite the 'old man' comment, Arianna was quite pleased at herself for holding back. Somehow, instinctively, she actually refrained from acting like a complete idiot. Maybe Gwilym's lessons were paying off.

"Really?" This young lady was amusing, she obviously had no idea who she was facing. "Would you care to try that out?" He drew his sword.

"Well, kind sir, show me your lesson for the day," Arianna said in amusement. Shocked that he would want to test her. The man looked to be in good shape, though, and she would not take him lightly.

"OK, My lady, meet me at the practice field in one hour, and then I will show you why women should leave their swords to men," he said talking down to her a little.

"T'would be a pleasure," she spat as she stormed away. How dare that old man belittle her like that. Once on the practice field, she would let him know she was no woman to be taken lightly.

"There she is." Renny said, pointing a wobbley finger towards where Nia stood with Edmund. "I hope she doesn't hate me..." Renny muttered, straightening herself a bit, but keeping a hold on Sparrow's arm for support.

Sparrow looked both up and down with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he thought Nia looked nothing liked his Renny, so he had no problems with her. Renny's friend was his friend. On the other he hated the guy on sight. That whole friend policy flew out the window. Possesively he placed an arm around Renny's waist and scowled.

Nia caught sight of Renny and waved. "She's over there," she said to Edmund. "Let's go."

"Who's the... is *that* her new love?" Edmund sounded half offended and half hurt. "My god."

"Come on," prodded Nia. "Maybe he's a nice, polite gentleman."

Edmund frowned. "He looks like he steals small children for a living." Regardless, he allowed himself to be dragged along by Nia towards the motley bunch of outlaws.

"Nia, good to see you again." Renny said warmly, shrugging Sparrow off to hug her friend. She stopped short though. "Bear did explain the dangers right?" she asked anxiously, surpressing the wince of pain. She carefully avoided looking at Edmund. "You understand what will happen to you two if my...my mother finds out correct?"

Nia ignored the reference to danger from Renny's mother. In her mind, the actual threat she perceived coming from within the city was still minimal. Instead, she hugged Renny and examined the discomfort in her expression. "What's wrong with you Renny?" she said with some concern. Edmund remained back a bit, unsure of what was happening and content to ignore the other bandits for now.

Renny shot Bear and Raven a dark look. "It seems my memories are a bit skewed," Renny said wryly. "After leaving you two...I tried to sleep but was unable too." her eyes darted quickly to Edmund. "Too many things crowded my brain...until my head seemed to explode." Renny went on, concentrating hard on the details. "I sent Bear and Raven to get you and -- and Edmund while Sparrow tended to me."

Renny realized belatedly she was being rude. "Nia, Edmund, this is Sparrow." Renny introduced, jabbing Sparrow in the ribs. He took two steps forward and gently shook Nia's hand. "I'm pleased to know Renny has at least one female friend." he said courteously, conscious that this meant a lot to Renny.

"Thank you, Sparrow," replied Nia confidently. She threw a concerned glance at Edmund as the tattooed young man moved across to him.

Sparrow stood in front of Edmund trying hard not to scowl. "Sir." he said, bowing stiffly. "Are you a friend of Renny's also?" he asked tightly, jealous of the fair-haired boy (that's what he was in his eyes). Jealous of the fact he knew something about Renny that he didn't know. Jealous of the way he looked at her.

"Er... yes, I guess you could call it that," said Edmund. He could sense that this person didn't like him much, and judging by what Nia had told him about Bear and Raven, he could guess that they were used to a violent way of life. It didn't seem to make any sense to antagonise them.

Nia tried to head off any episodes of male posturing. Renalla seemed to be fine apart from the company she kept, which got her to thinking why Bear and Raven made such a fuss in the first place. "What do you need, Renny? We're here now, so what can we do?"

Renny sighed and collected her thoughts, pushing the niggling fear that Sparrow would pound Edmund into the dirt, for the moment. "I need your help to warn the King or someone -- anyone -- of my mother's plans." Renny told her calmly. "I realize that once my story is told -- and how I came about such information -- I won't be a favorite of the Court's." Renny explained. "And since Bear, Raven and Sparrow can't waltz in for obvious reasons... so I had hoped maybe you and Edmund might convey the message."

Nia chewed on her upper lips for a few seconds. "What are your mother's plans?" she asked carefully. "I won't be taken seriously unless I can give accurate and undeniable information. In fact," she added slowly, "it would probably be a better idea if you come along and tell them in person. That would give more weight to your story. And it would also look better for you afterwards. We can come with you of course." She didn't add that the King was rumoured to be away at the moment, and that it was likely they would have to deal with someone else.

"What sort of trouble are you in, Renalla?" interrupted Edmund, concerned at the implications being made.

"I..." Renny faltered, how could she have thought Mother's idea was a good one? How could she go along with it? *You're an idiot child that's why.* she told herself sharply. "I was sent to begin the steps towards overthrowing Ki-King Hawk. To find weak spots, moments of loose guardsmenship... easily bribable guards... My mother she wanted Alban for herself. She has an inmense hatred for the nobility... I didn't understand why... just followed..." Renny stopped, taking a deep breath to right herself.

"When Sparrow and I started to... um... date, my mother wasn't happy. She thought it would distract me from my primary training -- which at the time was to be a Noble Lady. I didn't listen -- what teenage daughter does when they are in love? -- and continued our relationship even when I was here." Renny risked a glance at Edmund and felt a pain in her heart for what she saw. "My mother didn't like that, gave me an ultimatum sort of."

"Her mother wants her dead since she met you. You are killing Renny," Sparrow said quietly, directing his comments towards Edmund.

"No! Its not just his fault! Mother hates opposition...and you my dear have never played by her rules." Renny said, close to tears. Bear gathered Renny close to him and soothed her as he did before -- when her mother had her kidnapped. "Shh illances ... all is well little one..." he murmured softly.

If Renny felt troubled, then Edmund shared her sadness, if only for the realisation that Renny and this bald man had a 'relationship'. It was as he had been told all along. But he had not wanted to believe it. As bear comforted Renny and Sparrow continued to glare at him with that accusatory stare, it was painfully clear that he no longer knew the woman he had promised to marry so long ago. "I can't do this," he murmured. It was like someone had loudly smashed a piece of glass.

He turned and walked away.

"Ok, well... Edmund? Where are-" Nia shot a glance at the band of outlaws, cautioning them to leave him alone, and abruptly turned and ran after the young man. "Edmund! What's wrong? What's-" she made a grab for his arm, which he abruptly shook off. "You can't just leave now!"

"Why not?!" He muttered. "You don't need me for this. It's clear I'm not welcome anymore anyhow. She can get that cutthroat to guard her, help her, do whatever to her, I don't care!"

"Edmund, it's not that simple to just walk away... she needs someone to help her with this! I can't do it alone!" She tried to keep the pleading out of her voice, but Edmund's flushed face and angry expression told her he was going to keep walking unless she persisted.

"Why are you going to help her? You admitted yourself that you've both only recently met."

"Because... well, she's my friend. And despite the company she keeps, if what she says is true then maybe her mother needs to be stopped." She ran around in front of him and placed herself in his path, trying to take hold of his arms. "Please, just stop for a moment."

Edmund moved to push past, but Nia blocked him again. He sighed in frustration. "What!"

"Please, Edmund. If I have to take her inside the castle, I'll need you to come with me. If you help me with this, you can leave, go wherever you want afterwards, I won't stop you."

He huffed again, crossing his arms and examining Nia's determined gaze. After a few moments his face softened.

Nia did nothing, but in response simply said, "Thank you." The relief was clear as sunlight on her face.

Edmund put his hands on his hips and looked back at the band of outlaws. "But I'm doing this because you asked it of me," he said, about as gruffly as he could manage.

"You'll do it because Renny was your friend too," countered Nia gently. "Regardless of who she loves now."

Edmund eventually gave a wry grin. "There's no getting past you at all, is there..." He gave her a strange look, as if noticing something for the first time. It was thoughtful and analysing, but there was an element of surprise and perhaps a sign of some realisation. "Alright... lets go," he said finally.

The pair walked the short distance back to Renny and her comrades. Edmund had a new conviction, and Nia was ready for action. Edmund beat them all for first words. "If your mother is involved in some sort of plot," he announced, "then she'll have to be arrested. If you know where she is, that will be about the only thing that will convince the King or his aides to investigate and take action. Are you all willing to give her up?"

"At once." Renny said immediately, recovered from her outburst. "As part of my training I had to remember all the safe spots and locations the Band could hide in." Renny explained, Bear and Sparrow nodding in agreement. Renny made a hand gesture and Raven produced a piece of paper with a charcoal pencil.

Working quickly, Renny sketched a quick map with X's where the Band was hidden, boxes where there were safe places and stars where they would not look. "There." she said after a few minutes. "Mother doesn't know how to get in -- about the way the guard told me about."

"She might, Renny. If your mother had you followed then that spy would know for sure," Raven pointed out, all business now despite how she felt.

Renny frowned and considered that. "Do you know who she sent by any chance?" she asked hopefully. All three shook their heads. Renny sighed, expecting that. "All right then... Edmund, Nia are either of you good with any sort of weaponry?" Renny asked, staring at both. "Other then the bow and arrow Edmund, I mean." she added, remembering that particular pasttime the two had once enjoyed.

Edmund looked slightly embarrassed, while Nia just shook her head. "I don't think we can help much there," said Nia casting a glance at Edmund.

"Gosh, maybe that's where WE could come in then!" said a cheery, yet completely different voice...

(to be continued...)

Abertawe was not far now; they should be there by midday. Cowin kept wondering what Lethwain planned to do with their captive, hanging seemed like the most practical option, but why take him all the way to town just for that. He was a heavy burden and deserved nothing better than death, now being as good a time as any.

"Lethwain?" He asked. The knight did not reply, he was busy inspecting the ground. "What is it Sir?" He tried again.

"Tracks. Footprints to be precise, barefoot might I add and I have a strong suspicion that they may belong to our foes of last night. They scattered when the wolves came and would not have had a chance to dress themselves and change their vestments before fleeing. They are heading towards Abertawe."

"Oohh," groaned Magnella. She was waking up. " What a lovely day it is." She looked around and attempted to dismount the horse. "Oww, my body, it's so stiff. I must remember never to sleep in a saddle again."

"Come, let me help you down," said her brother. He lifted her off the horse, and finding it hard to stand she lay down on the wet grass.

"Let's rest a bit, I'm too sore to walk and I's not getting back in that saddle," said Magnella. She rolled over and started humming.

"Well Lethwain?" Prompted Cowin. "What do you suggest?"

"Let us rest for a while, I am sure you must be tired too. I intend to wake this devil and learn something of his pusillanimous companions' retreat."

"Yes, your right. Let me sleep a while." Cowin lay down under a tree, folding his arms beneath his head and began to snore.

Magnella watched, resting her chin on her hands, as the armoured crusader unstrapped the priest from his back. "Check him for weapons," she called. Lethwain glanced over to her, nodded. He'd taken the captive off his back and was now tying him to a tree. Magnella got up, picking up a stick with her. Overcoming her stiffness, and moving rather robotically she walked towards the captive. Lethwain left the villain and headed over to his white horse as she came.

"You do that to me do you?" She scowled at the prisoner. "I poke you in the ribs an' rip out your's heart," she said, prodding the prisoner with her stick. Not violently but in a harsh playful manner, just to let him know who had the upper hand now.

Lethwain returned carrying a small vial in his hand. He uncorked the top and held it under the priest's nose. The fragrance rising from the vial filled the air and the priest was roused in a fit of coughs and splutters.

"What is that stuff Mister Lethwain, Sir?" Asked Magnaella. "A various variety of vegetation, which I brewed up. Noctor berries and lavender being the principle ingredients," replied Lethwain.

The priest was still coughing as Lethwain grabbed him by the collar. Looking down into his eyes he said, "Good morning foul fiend, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Who are you?!" Asked the priest in a surprised tone.

"I think what you are trying to say is sorry, and more importantly who are you?" replied Lethwain, taking the stick from Magnella's hands.

"You shall never tarnish the power of Donn, the one yo....."

The priest was cut short as the stick Lethwain had taken from Magnella slashed across his face. "As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, who are you?"

"I.. I.." He looked up at the stick Lethwain was holding, "I am Tellon Ramius, cleric of the Donnites. I serve the one you people call the Dark One, Ruler of Death, Slayer of Demons, Bringer of Doom, Most Excellent of......"

He was cut short again by Lethwain's stick. This time cutting him near the eye. "So tell us Tellon, why have your friends fled to Abertawe? Your coven of evil is not from there."

"Do you think I shall tell on my Brothers? My fellows of worship? My...." Once again the stick cut him off, stinging his tongue as he talked. "I'll tell you what Tellon. I won't thrust this blade through your blackened heart if you tell me why they went towards Abertawe, deal?" said Lethwain unsheathing his massive sword from upon his back. "Never."

Magnella turned away as Lethwain began beating the man's head against the tree. She had watched for a bit, happy that one of her previous captors was receiving his just rewards, but eventually the gushing blood made her stomach churn. The cries of "NEVER," persisted for a while, but after about twenty minutes those gave way to pleas for mercy. Magnella looked back, the tree was painted a gruesome shade of red and the grass around him soaked the same colour. Magnella screamed and forgetting her aching joints began running over to her brother.

The scream roused Lethwain out of his frenzy and he called after her. "Sorry Magnella, it's alright, I just got a little carried away." She stopped running but refused to look upon the ghastly scene again, instead walking over to stroke the horse.

It was midday when Cowin awoke. He stood up, and looking over to the horse saw Lethwain hoisting the priest upon to the upper branches of a big oak tree. He'd rigged up a pulley system using a large rope and Magnella was climbing down from the branches. Seeing Cowin awake she ran over to him.

"Oh, Cowin. Mister Lethwain's such a lovely man. He got the nasty priest to tell him why his friends were headed to Abertawe and where they were going, and then he was trying to get Tellon, that's the man in the tree, to say sorry for his sins and repent about his clericism to The Dark One, and he wouldn't so we're putting him in a tree and we're gonna leave him there until someone finds him, that's if he's lucky, or Mister Lethwain says he might pass through here in a few days and see if Tellon's changed his mind." Magnella hurried through her sentence with such excitement that she said it all in one breath. She began pulling her brother over towards the tree and Cowin let her, thinking he better go and ask Lethwain about what was going on.

"You will die for this Metal Head," screamed the priest. "My master will punish you gravely for your sins. A thousand deaths be upon you and your family, and your family's family.......and all their friends too," he added as an afterthought. He was dangling from the upper branches of the big oak tree, suspended there by a rope. He's face was mangled and covered in blood as he spat at the armoured knight and his companions.

"Lethwain, what's happening?" Asked Cowin.

"Just a little retribution my good friend, nothing too serious. Between you and me," he whispered to Cowin "he'll be down soon. That branch that's holding him is full of woodworm."

Cowin gave a look of vacant surprise.

"Come Cowin we must go," said Lethwain. "I have found out some very disturbing news. The Donnites we dispersed were only a smaller part of a large group, all heading for Alban."

"That's my home town!"

"Yes. They have plans to disrupt the spread of the new religion that is missionising through the country. All deities being replaced by one worship, a adversary to their master. They fear the new change and have plans of artifice, sabotage and destruction. We must hurry and stop them. I fear that there are those already in Alban, filling out the groundwork for their devious scheme.

Magnella rode up, she was on Lethwain's horse and had forgotten her earlier dislike for saddles. "Let's go, we must warn the king." "Indeed. Goodbye Tellon," Lethwain called out to the dangling priest, "may you be forgiven for your sins and find rest in the afterlife."

With that they set off, the pendulous priest cursing after them.

Jolene had watched the fight in horror. It had been one of the most barbaric displays she had seen. She had slipped away when Niall had staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his face. She had hidden in her room even during the resulting festivities, turning down a quiet request for her to sing for she could not face a crowd that night.

The life she had chosen for herself was one she had not been exposed to. The language used, the customs and even what was considered honorable seemed to differ. Jolene was rarely seen by the custom unless she was singing. She did the other tasks that Master Pwyll asked her too. She ate her meals quietly with the staff. Otherwise, she was as if she were a ghost.

This day had dawned beautifully and she decided that she needed air. She dressed in her clothing she had brought with her and pulled on her cloak. The plan was to walk the markets. She hurried down the stairs, light of heart for the first time since her encounter with the intruding knight.

Niall sat at his usual table and ate his porridge. Niall was bruised but in high spirits after the night's event. His mind drifted to what his land would look like an