Politics - Chapter Thirteen Part two

"Daydreams" Gwilym ap Gavin - Knight of Justice Lady Isa - The Queen Mother Gwilym went for a walk through the castle to try and clear his head from the events that had occurred since his arrival. The ordeal with Urianus had taken its toll on Gwilym mentally and he was tired. Add the spice that was all bottled up inside Arianna, and Gwilym thought that it was time for a little getaway. Gwilym chuckled as he realized he had yet to find himself a home to purchase and actually settle in to the kingdom that he had sworn loyalty for. Before long, Gwilym found himself lying on his back in the castle garden next to a patch of Gardenias. He was staring up at the clouds in the sunny, mid-afternoon sky. His mind was so caught up in day dreaming that he never saw the lady approaching his direction. Isa felt better than she had done in months. She was busy now as she'd spent the afternoon getting back into the politics of the Kingdom. And while doing that, she could feel the energy flow back into her body. She should have done this weeks earlier, but to be fair, maybe she hadn't been ready then. She saw the young man lying in the grass, and smiled. It was good to have time for dreams, and be without worries. She didn't recognize him, but she smiled at the young man. "It is a beautiful day, is it not?" Gwilym instantly sat up startled by the female voice. With a quick smile, Gwilym tried to recover, "It is a beautiful day, milady." Gwilym rose to his feet and bowed in perfect etiquette, "I am Sir Gwilym ap Gavin, Crest of Ruby and at your service. Who, milady, might you be," He asked as he stood back up. "Don't get up for my sake." Isa said with a laugh. "I am lady Isa. Nice to meet you. Are you new a court? I don't believe I have seen you around before." She asked. Gwilym ponder the name for a second … Lady Isa … he seemed to recall the name but wasn't sure why. Not wanting to be rude, he answered, "Yes Lady Isa, I am fairly new to Abertawe having spent most of my life in Mor Hafren, but have been here for a little while. I was on assignment my Master Alterian when I first arrived, so I have yet to meet the king or appear in court.." He still could not help but think he knew this name. "That was not very nice of Ian, to send you away when you just got here. Tell me, what did he have you do?" She sat down on a bench, and gestured him to sit down next to her. The weight hit him like a charging bull, Gwilym realized whom this lady was … The Queen Mother. Gwilym remembered Lady Isa's son, the king, holding Gwilym's very own blade to his neck in contemplation of executing Gwilym for the failure of protecting the children of Nethbo. An assignment given to him by Alterian at the request of the Queen Mother. Gwilym immediately fell to one knee and bowed his head, Queen Mother, "please forgive me for not recognizing you and please accept my most esteemed apology I can offer for failing to protect the children of Nethbo properly. No matter the excuse, I failed you and am now in your debt." Gwilym remained on one knee and held his head in shame. "Do fill me in. I have been out of the political loop for a long time. You see, I have been ill for quite some time, and my husband and my son shielded me by not telling me anything that could be stressful for me. So tell me exactly how you were involved, and what ultimately happened to those children. And please sit down here, it's much more comfortable." She smiled at him now. Gwilym stood up and was comforted by her hospitality. "Thank you Milady, I am sorry to hear of your poor health, but am happy to see you have recovered from your ailment." Gwilym took a seat and began explaining all that had occurred with the ambush, the king almost, beheading him, the recovery and safe return of all of the children, and the capture of Urianus. Isa listened with sympathy. "It seems like you had a very hard time, and you did well. I am sure that my son will agree with me, once he returns to court." That brought a sad expression to her face, Isa still didn't know how bad hawk was wounded. "He is a kind man most of the time, so don't worry." Gwilym looked at the Queen Mother with compassionate eyes, "Are the rumors true then of the nobles removing their support because the king is off to save his sister … er your daughter? If so, how may I help? As I have said, I am still in your debt." Gwilym add the last part to attempt to bring a smile back to her face. With the run in with Urianus, Gwilym already knew that the rumors were true. He also recalled a conversation he had with Arianna asking her which side she would stand on … king or country for they were not always the same. Isa sighed, "it might be true. People are so ungrateful. They begged my son to become King. He didn't want to, he is a very private person. Being King cost him the woman he loved. And now he chooses to see his sister happy, and they condemn him for that. It is so unfair; he is a good man. He can lead this country with vision." She looked at the young man. "Will you support him?" "Milady, you should hold no worry from me. I have no quandary with the King. It's the nobles I sometimes wish to be without always thinking that the land grows root around them. My father taught me that common people hold a better view towards respect and a good king has the respect of the people. I doubt that the people of Abertawe care too much if a common soldier marries the king's little sister. From them, I would bet the king still hold their respect. My loyalty will always be with the people. I believe your son is good to them and therefore he holds my respect as well." Gwilym answered respectably hoping that his response was suitable since he hadn't swore his undying loyalty to the king. Gwilym hadn't heard about the king losing his love. He could understand the sorrow that followed, "I can sympathize for the king's loss. My wife was murdered by the Plas Gorerddan during our war with them … I'm from Mor Hafren if you remember. We were married for only a day when I was sent on errand to the king. When I returned, the town, with my parents and wife, had been slaughtered. I part of me died that day and I have never fully recovered. It would seem the king and I have a common thread between us." Isa looked at him with grave eyes. "I feel for your loss." My son lost his first wife in childbed three years ago, and now he finally started to love again, and this young lady was murdered. I am glad that you do not blame my son for being not very nice to you when you met. There is one important thing you can do for me. My son needs friends, can you be that for him? I think you can understand him." "Milady, I would be honored, but in our first encounter in Urianus' office, he almost took my head. I fear he may not be too found of me," Gwilym chuckled a little bit. In the three years of war he fought through, that was his closest ever to death. "That was just after Audrey had been murdered. He was not himself then, hawk probably feels very guilty about what he did." Isa knew her son, who was a fierce fighter, but not one to kill a man who could not defend himself. "You gave up a lot to come here. You were a rich and important man in your homeland. Here you are just one of the knights. I appreciate that, and so will my son." Gwilym cast her a stunned glance, "I hadn't realized you knew my past, Milady, Though I guess it's not hidden knowledge to those in politics. It's hard to call Mor Hafren homeland when your home and family are destroyed. Leaving it behind was rather easy. The hard part is forgetting the title. I have been told once a Duke always a Duke. I could return back to the land and live the life of that title as well as the 'War Hero' but…" Gwilym lowered his head for a moment, "I would always remember what had happened to get me there. The pain wouldn't be worth it. Besides, according to the Plas Gorerddan, I'm a murderer of women and children and they hold a bounty for my return. There is never really a hero whenever war is involved. No matter how you try to prevent it, the innocent are always involved." Isa looked at him, so young and so wise. "I could never believe that you are a murderer. And neither will my son when he gets to know you. You are a good man, and I am glad that you are here." She smiled at him. "I hope you will come to regard this country as your new home." "It is my wish, Milady. Now, how can I be of help to you and the king?" Gwilym asked in an attempt to change the subject. "How long is King Hawk expected to be gone?" "I don't know. All I know is that he is wounded, and cannot travel." She looked at him. "Maybe you can go to him there. I worry about hawk being away with only a few people to look after him." Gwilym stood up and took The Queen Mother's hand, "Then by your leave, Lady Isa, I will go to Alterian and gain information." Gwilym kissed her hand and bowed deeply. As he rose, he said, "I will find out all he knows, and I will aid my king. You and Lord Iorwerth can rest assured." He then waited for her dismissal. Isa smiled at him. "Thank you. It means a lot to me." She said. And she was pleased that there were still so many good men around at court. "Love's late letter..." Pwyll ap Llywarch - Outlander Meg - Barmaid (npc) Corbo - Drunk (npc) Pwyll hadn't realized that his big win could turn out to be so much bloody work. For days he'd been moving throughout his territory, settling disputes between competing merchants, bribing the appropriate officials, arranging for the movement of borrowed goods, and generally trying to manage his little fiefdom. 'Give me a decent fight any day,' he thought to himself as he staggered into the Swan near closing time, and virtually collapsed into his private salon. Meg, the newly hired server quickly appeared with a pint of dark ale and set it down before the little man. Pwyll nodded his thanks and hoisted the mug to his lips. When he set it down again it was almost empty. "Fetch me another one, Meg. I've developed a deep thirst in me travels." As she ran off to fetch another one, Pwyll reflected that he'd made a good choice in hiring the tall thin girl--even if she was a Sassenach. When she reappeared she brought a sealed piece of parchment in addition to the fresh pint. "What's this then?" Pwyll asked as he took the letter from the girl. "Beg pardon, sir. Niall said he was given it for the new singer. He figured you should look at it first." She lingered a moment before adding, "I think it's from that fancy knight what gets smashed 'ere." Meg was clearly the worst gossip in the capital, and it was clear she enjoyed the pastime. "Could be a bit tricky... seeings how I don't know how to read." Pwyll squinted at the spindly handwriting. He had only just begun to learn his letters, and had no idea how to decipher the strange script. He absently tapped his chin in thought. "Say. Is Corbo still about?" "Yes, sir, " Meg turned on her heel and reappeared moments later dragging the barely conscious old drunk behind her. "Fetch him a pint, would you love?" Pwyll asked. With those words, the filthy old beggar began to almost sober up and lick his lips in anticipation. "So you auld sponge, you can read can't ya?" Corbo straightened a little at the remark. He had been a clerk in some distant court, but his love of the bottle and his master's purse had necessitated a change in occupation. "Aye, I kin," he replied. Pwyll gently lifted the wax seal on the parchment without breaking it. "Read it to me quietly an' be quick about it, before miss nosey pops back." Corbo took the letter and read it to Pwyll in the dim candle-light, "Dearest Lady Jolene...My sincerest apologies for any slight or pain... blah, blah, blah. 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... blah, blah. I will not hide my affection... blah, blah, blah. 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." Corbo finished rambling off the letter just before Meg arrived with his drink. Much to her chagrin, Pwyll quickly picked up the letter and drew it beneath the table. "Thankye, Meg... and I'll be hearing none of this said about, eh?" he said as he tossed a ha'penny her way. It was plain she was disappointed, but realizing the price for wagging her tongue might well be her livelihood, she knew enough to keep her mouth shut tight. When she left the small room Pwyll took out the letter and with the aid of heat from the candle carefully resealed it. Satisfied that it would pass even the closest inspection, he slipped into his shirt and pondered his next move. Were it not for the fact that Jolene was of noble birth, Pwyll wouldn't have even considered opening the letter. He had enough worries without having to be concerned about a little dalliance between a noble and a commoner, but here was something that could be important later on. He knew that the knight was involved with the wealthy but dangerous Lady Morgan, that he was a drunk and also a bit of a lady's man. By the same token he also knew that his employee was far more than a common singer. It wouldn't do to let either of these two birds out of his sight for the time being. What was needed here was more information. He decided the best course of action would be to try and slow down this budding romance until he knew more about both of them. No harm in that. Summoning Meg, he handed her the resealed letter. "See that Jolene gets this letter... late on the morrow." As he watched her go he thought to himself, 'Besides, it wouldn't do for me to lose my teacher, book-keeper and star all in one go.' "...And there will be a reckoning" - Sir Amlyn ...So it came to be, that the last knight of black and red inflicted death upon another knight of the Order of the White Shield. Much was his pain at the end of that fateful fight, for that knight of the Order was none other than a woman, offered to him by others in the past, yet never his in heart or spirit. He had known then that she would never return the same love that he held for her, but that did not stop him from weeping greatly at her passing. For she was a perfect soul, unblemished by the cruelties of the world but who was now defiled, raped of life by his hands, driven to hatred with her dying breath to cast curses upon him. All that had happened so far in his life did little to shake him as much as what he had done at the gates to Ruthin. The children of the Raven, the twisting ploys of his former master Nwython, even the imminent encounter with his father, the King of Dinodig. All of this was like a bard's tale, an ode to another man's life that he could no longer imagine being his. All of his world was suddenly represented by a body: dragged even now onto a cart by a solemn unit of holy footsoldiers, and taken away from him, through the gates and into the streets beyond. He watched every last moment of her departure, mourning within himself with a grief that encompassed everything. While no-one else had the will to interrupt the Black Knight from his melancholy, Sir Huges held no such reserve. "What is done, has been done," he said solemly. "Rise to yer feet, and make haste to end what it is ya came here to do. That end is near, Sir Amlyn. Prepare yerself." Amlyn rose up, wiping the moist streaks from his face and said, "I have always been ready for this." And this was true. For now, after morbidly contemplating the forces of fate that had brought him to this point, he never had felt so much hatred for one man, as he had now for the King of Dinodig. His death could not come soon enough. Sir Huges and the other knights waited for Amlyn to gather his horses, and allowed him to enter the city first. Ruthin held an air of eerie calm. Like previous towns, there were relatively few cityfolk moving about through the streets. But they seemed to carry themselves with a sense of confidence and in a manner of relief. What trouble that had been here, was apparently over, and all that was left was to slowly move back to a state of normality. Few of them bothered to look at Amlyn as he moved through the streets towards the castle. The disinterest was mutual: Amlyn only had his mind on one task, his face set in a grim stoney mask. Nearer to the castle, the presence of the guards became heavier, and the caution in the residents more obvious. Amlyn could see that the design of the castle was symmetrical: dominated on each corner by a large tower that rose at least another two stories above the tallest walls of the keep. The building material was the same dark granite that made up the outer wall of the city. The broad heavy gates of oak stood wide open, but there were plenty of soldiers cloistered around it's entrance, warily screening any who approached to enter. For Amlyn however they parted, recognising his crest and allowing him through, saluting the group of knights who followed along behind like a retinue. Inside the keep, everything was chaos. Serfs and soldiers alike scattered, many throwing themselves to their knees, as a woman dressed in glorious livery of blue and red crossed the courtyard, followed by a throng of nobles who tagged along like piglets chasing the belly of a sow. The woman's hair was braided loosely into two knee-length tails and threaded with blue and red ribbons, and a gold circlet studded with sapphires and rubies was mounted over her forehead. She was a match in beauty for even Morgan, and her face was cold and hard, staring at him deliberately as she made her way directly towards him. She ignored the rushed efforts of her guards to both escort her and clear the way. Amlyn thought it was like she didn't even consider anything else around her to exist. Amlyn stepped away from his horses and slowly knelt to one knee in deference to her obvious position. This certainly must be Queen Lleucu. Lowering his eyes to the ground was no easy task, for she held a presence that seemed to command attention. She stopped in front of him, and with a gesture she banished those around her. It was like a strong gust of wind had suddenly blown them all away. "Walk with me," she insisted, without any greeting. She held a red silk swatch of cloth in her hands, running her fingers gently through it in a subconscious action. Amlyn complied, rising to his feet and following her as she turned walked back the way she had come. Trailing a pace behind her, he could smell a sweet scent of unknown flowers. "Lady Melangell's body will be returned to her homeland," she said as if in light conversation as they walked. "She could not be persuaded to change her course of action, even had any of us attempted to try." Amlyn risked insult in not answering, but she said nothing more and continued walking. They entered a cloister that passed through a hole in one of the walls, emerging into a small open garden - or, at least, what used to be a garden. Several servants were busy at work preparing beds, pulling out trampled and crushed plants and placing them into piles to be removed in hessian sacks. At the entrance of the queen, they all ceased their work and bowed as low as they could manage. "Leave," she ordered, and in a flash they had fled into the alcove. When they were alone, the Queen turned again to Amlyn, and looked him up and down carefully, saying nothing. Amlyn just looked back, waiting for her to begin whatever it was she wanted to start. "Do you see this garden?" She said. "Aye." "A garden is a thing of beauty. Do you not mourn for it as much as you mourn for Lady Melangell?" Amlyn didn't answer again. "Ahhh," said Lleucu. "But you did not love this garden, did you." It was not a question, but a statement. He ground his jaws together gently and looked away. Lleucu watched his reaction through narrowed eyelids. Then she continued, empathically aware that he did not wish to speak of it further. "The gardener who was responsible for this area was killed while he tried to stop soldiers from entering the castle through this way. He had worked over twenty years tending to this garden, and he couldn't bear the thought of it being wounded cruelly in an instant. A life's work, maimed in front of his eyes." She moved away and looked at the battered plant remains. "I have no doubt you see nothing but death here. Well I see the same: death of the past. Clinging to the old ways makes one stagnant and unimaginative. This garden will never be the same as what it was before." She turned back to examine Amlyn, a slight wrinkle appearing at one corner of her mouth. "And that is a good thing. The garden that will replace it will be better and stronger. For we will spread the remains of that gardener about the soil, as a legacy to his work, and a fertiliser for the new plants that will feed and grow in it." She walked slowly towards him and drifted lazily off to one side, strolling continuously around him in a circle as she spoke. "Guaire has just arrived here, Sir Amlyn. He currently resides in the northern tower, and he is expecting you. I have no interest in why you wish to kill him, nor do I particularly care that Nwython has placed this responsibility upon you. Instead, I have seperate proposal to make. I need you to deliver my good wishes to the King of Abertawe, and I need you to offer a formal pact of non-agression to Abertawe on my behalf. In summary, I need you as a temporary emissary." Amlyn tried to hide his confusion. "Perhaps I won't live long enough to fulfil your request, your highness," he said, buying some time to work on deciphering what games she intended playing with him. "Somehow I think you will," she chided. "If what Nwython tells me about you is correct, then only god's will may see you fail. Oh, I could send another from Nethbo to do the job, but our countries suffer a lack of trust at the moment. And you are essentially an outsider. You threw your hand in with their defense during the war, so they know your allegiances lie with them. But I know for certain that Nwython has no intentions of letting you live after this. Should you return, you may die in ignomity. If I give you a certain amount of authority on my behalf, to negotiate for an end to our dispute, then he risks much in killing you." "... That is quite a proposal your highness." "Too much blood has already been shed," she replied. "And we are both weak and ill-prepared to fight once again. I'd believe King Hawk would leap at the offer for peace. It is a genuine offer, with few conditions: A promise for fifty years that we will not bear arms against the Kingdom of Abertawe, as long as they do not seek to bear arms against us; An offer for reparations in goods if the King so wishes; And we wll also give him the opportunity of marriage to cement the foundation for a stable relationship between our two kingdoms." Amlyn doubted very much that marriage was any longer on the King's mind, but he said nothing. Lleucu paced away a few steps towards the cloister and gestured towards Amlyn. "You can think about it after you take care of what you are here for. Then you may rest, and we will talk again later." He followed her out of the garden. ***** Later ***** Amlyn entered through the doorway, and the thick set of double doors was slowly closed behind him. The room was circular, with a single, shuttered window directly across from where he had entered, blocking out the light from the setting sun. And it was completely empty of any furniture, apart from a single candle resting on a stone dias in the centre of the room. There was no more than maybe two hours left of life in it, and the wan light it cast struggled to reach the walls and ceiling. A man, dressed only in a long white robe, stood next to the window. He was thickset and broad, with the familiar dark brown hair and eyes that Amlyn recognised only too well. He easily dwarfed the black knight by about a foot, but Amlyn distinctly remembered him being much taller. It seemed age and other unknown burdens had taken their effect on the King of Dinodig. He was unarmed, and the lines about his puffy eyes spoke of sleeplessness. "Welcome," he began weakly, "My son..." All In A Day's Work Iorwerth ap Greidawl - Lord Arianna ui Llewellyn - Knight Iorwerth was pretty busy taking charge of the girl. He was happy about this, because right now he felt a little bit useless around court. His wife was taking care of politics again, and he was glad of that. The old general felt in his element when he could be busy with the Army and training young People. He had asked Arianna to meet him in his room this morning for he wanted to discuss her duties with her. Arianna arrived at the room Iorwerth requested her at and knocked. The door was open and Iorwerth was inside peering out the window. "I have come as you have requested lord. What is our agenda for the day?" Arianna hated idol chit chat. She feared that it might make her weak or slip up on her task at hand. "I have had some new dresses made for you. And you have to fit them this morning." He looked at her. "Also I want some of my wife's ladies to look at your hair. We have to do something with it." With a little help she would be pretty to look at. " I have sent a messenger to your mentor telling him I want to speak with him at court." Iorwerth just wasn't a man of many words. "And if there is any time left today, we can practice." Arianna rolled her eyes while also holding a scowl on her face; "You are going to be as bad as my mother, aren't you?" It was a rhetorical question not really needing a reply. Arianna would do her best to appease the lord, but she didn't have to like it in the process. "When your servants are finished, you may find that they will hold no desire to want to fit me again. Just food for thought. AND, there is nothing wrong with my hair. It has natural curls and handles easily. I am not one to wear my hair in stupid patterns that resemble rolls on a dinner table." Then it dawned on her what Iorwerth's last statement was. "Why would you wish an audience with my mentor?" It was easily notable that Arianna was uneasy from this possible inquiry. Iorwerth stared at her without expression. "I would like to speak to your mentor to find out what he did teach you and besides, he's an old friend and this is a good excuse to see him again. Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Arianna shifted uncomfortably. Bromlin had never mentioned his friendship with Iorwerth, and she hoped this would not create a problem with her plans. "Yes," she replied hoping he would move on and not question her ackwardness. "One thing he failed to teach you is that you address a duke as Your Grace, young lady. Now if you want that training, I suggest you go and fit those dresses and if I hear one word of complaint out of my servants, the training is off. Is that understood?" "Yes … Your Grace," she flatly sarcastically, "I'll see to it that the ladies and I are having tea and crumpets when all is said and done." She hesitated a moment then curtsied in perfect form, "By your leave, your grace?" asking to be excused. "Better, much better, next time do it without the sarcasm." He actually smiled. "Now get going." Arianna didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to like Iowerth, in a friendship sort of way. He was the kind of person who dug their way under your skin. He was also to the point. She could respect a person who spoke their mind, if in what they had to say wasn't exactly polite. It reminded her a lot of Forimor, her mentor in knightly affairs. Arianna smiled back at Iorwerth and left. Three hours later Arianna was finished with all of the primping it took to have dresses sized; as well as, the hour of cutting and styling her hair. Arianna was never going to admit it, but the hairstyle really did look nice. Once that was done she headed back to Iorwerth's room where she waited another hour while he was off doing whatever it was he did as a lord. Iorwerth sent a squire to get Arianna and meet him on the practice field. Iorwerth practiced on her stance and posture showing her how to better keep her guard up while being on the offensive. Arianna listened intently and learned as best she could. She was amazed at the difference a few inches could make in her sword position. An hour and a half later, Iorwerth had her sweating profusely and the two broke from the days activities. They had worked out a routine where Iowerth would meet her midday every other day and in the off days Arianna was to meet with the ladies of the court to go over lady etiquette and responsibilities while in court. At the end of the daily, Iorwerth was really pleased with her progress. She had been nice to his wife's ladies and looked a lot better with her hair more Lady like, and, although he would never admit that to her, he liked the sparring they did. She was an attentive student, and she learned fast. Pity she was not a man because she really had potential. The Arllech Gospels (Part 1) Hwfa ap Morfylskinith - npc Hwfa was a powerful man. A man feared and respected. His rise from pauper to head of the draper's guild was the stuff of local legend. Born the son of a small-town tailor, he had worked his way up from dyer to weaver and eventually to guildsmaster. Each step of the way he had fought tenaciously, ruthlessly stepping over his opponents in a relentless struggle. At the ripe old age of 32 he had finally reached the pinnacle of his profession, and reveled in the raw power and immense wealth it gave him. Sure he had made enemies along the way, but at the time it didn't seem to matter. Though now, as his lifeblood flowed on to the precious flagstones of his parlor, he suddenly began to wonder if he hadn't made a mistake somewhere along the way... His rapidly fading vision gave him no clue as to the identity of his assailant. He was only dimly aware of the leather-clad boot that stepped over him and walked towards his old desk. As the vague figure rummaged through his belongings he thought fleetingly of a name, but then death quietly laid his hand on him and he knew no more... The Diva and the Ogre - Part 2 Jolene – Local Bard Niall – The Giant It felt good to be out in the city and out of the Inn. Jolene did not mind the company of the large man at her side in the least. He made her feel very safe, a feeling she had not known since she was very very small. "So where should we go first?" She asked thoughtfully. Niall smiled down at the beautiful bardess, "The day is early and I have a hot coin or two to relieve myself of. I don't really care where we set out eyes on first. I figured that once we hit the market, I'd just start with the first tent and go from there." They walked down the street from The Swan in route to the the market square and passed the church where he was being schooled. Out front the children were playing as Pastor Franscis watched on. "It had been a while, Niall. When will you return to us?" The pastor asked. The children turned to recognize there fellow classmate and ran up to greet him ... in a children sort of way. Soon Niall had kids swarming on him like ants on bread with shouts of 'Niall where have you been', 'Did you win the other day', and 'Who's the pretty lady'. The last of them caused Niall to blush. Within minutes the children were circling the two and chanting 'Niall's gotta girlfriend, Niall's gotta girlfriend'. This didn't help any as it caused Niall to blush even more. "Sshee's jjusstta frieenndd ..." He muttered as he looked towards Jolene. Jolene smiled and put her arm once again through Niall's. "A very good friend." She said, winking at the ring leader. She knew she should not join in the teasing of Niall, but she had never seen a grown man blush before and found it quite endearing, even on so large a man. As if Niall had blushed enough, his jaw dropped when he felt Jolene wrap around his arm. Still stuttering, Niall waved to the children and the pastor, who was laughing hysterically on the front steps of the church. "Bbye Bbye eeveryyonee!" Niall said and picked up the pace with Jolene in tow and never turned around until he had placed some distance between them and the church. Niall turned to Jolene with a grin on his face once he caught his breath. "You did that on purpose." Niall could still see the enjoyment on her face. Looking around, Niall put an evil grin on his face, "you thought that was funny, huh?" Niall then made obvious eyes jesters between her and the horse troth a mere ten feet away. Her eyes widened. "You would not do such a thing?" But she couldn't be so sure as she did not really know him. "Would you? I mean, I saw no harm in them believing that you had a girl to squire about?" "Naw, I couldn't really do it. But I did scare you a bit, didn't I?" Niall laughed at his rhetorical question for he saw the brief second of fear in her eyes. He thought about what he had done for a second then immediately asked, "I hope I did not offend you?" He didn't want to hurt her feelings. Niall didn't have very many friends, so he didn't want to scare any potentials away. "If so, I'm sorry." He offered a big smile to aid his apology. "I am not offended." She answered with a soft and gentle smile. She put her arm back in his. "Let us go find some meat pies." Jolene loved market meat pies. She could tell that Niall wasn't used to gentle company and it was thrilling to share such a day with him. Before long the two were in the thick of the market sitting at a bench with their meat pies. Niall talked about his past growing up with parents that disowned him and running away and living with a group of mercenaries. His story was sad but Niall told it in a way that made life seem fun and interesting. He talked about a lot of the goofs he'd made in the past because he's a slow thinker, but Niall's boisterous laugh made each of his incidents seem just fine. Niall's attitude on life seemed to be live, learn, and enjoy and Niall sure got a hoot picking on himself. When he was done, he told Jolene, "you know, I am building a house on a big piece of land. If that knight fella keeps bothering you, then you can come stay with me. I'll have plenty of rooms, and I won't charge you a thing. I'll still be working with Pwyll at The Swan, so I can act as your personal bodygaurd. And I won't try to bother you on whatever this past issue is that the knight fella keeps pestering you about. It's just a thought. You don't have to answer now." She smiled at him with genuine warmth. "That is a grand offer, Niall. I will keep it in mind." She took a bite of her pie and then decided she could confide in him a little. "Sir Gwynne wishes to see me return to court. But, he doesn't understand that situations change and I cannot do that." "I don't understand court affairs and nobles and such, but how could you not go anymore. I thought once you were a noble then you're always a noble." Niall was definitely confused. Niall knew nothing of the world that the nobles got to play in. "I don't know anything about court except for what floats around the bar. People say that everyone in court gossips and are friendly to your face while trying to stick a dagger in your back." Then Niall thought about it for a second and began to chuckle, "well I guess court life probably isn't any different that bar life." Jolene smiled. "Actually, bar life is much more simple. People tend to say what they think. In court, you must work to figure out the simplest words by the tones that are used. As for me," Jolene sighed. "It turns out that I was born on the wrong side of the blanket so that changes my status in court." She looked up at him worriedly. Niall shook his head in confusion once more. "Well, I only get more and more confused when I try and understand court life, but I'm gonna state what most men have probably told you before … You are as beautiful as a spring dawn and in my court you are always more than welcome." Niall was speaking truthfully and not as a pompous aristocrat trying to coax her into bed. Besides, Niall was completely positive that his bed was the last place she would want to be. Niall only hoped that she would one day find a true love to match her own beauty. For that matter, Niall hoped that one day he could find his own true love as well. Jolene smiled. "It seems more honest from your lips then from anothers." A booth caught her eyes, and she turned from him for a moment. Soon they were meandering on down the row. The two continued on through the day shopping at all the stands. Niall had found himself a couple of new outfits, which of course needed to be sized, and was having them delivered once the work was done. Jolene helped him with his clothes so that he looked in fashion with current culture. Niall then bought Jolene a necklace with an ivory and emerald pendant. "This is for our new friendship. If you ever need me, I'll be there." Niall smiled and placed it around her neck. Jolene touched the necklace tenderly. "I should not accept so fine a gift. My mother said that it was unseemly for a lady to take gifts of great value." She stroked the pendant. "But, thank you. I am glad I have found such a friend." She turned around and smiled up at him. Jolene took him by the arm and led him down the row where she could purchase some fur to line a cloak she was making. Soon they had finished all their purchases. "Perhaps we should head back." They both had plenty of small bundles. "Aye, its getting late, and I need to talk with Pwyll about our bet. The guy who lost was supposed to settle up today with Pwyll. All I want is the deed for my land so I can go see what it looks like. I'm gonna build a house and a barn, and I'm gonna raise dogs and horses and birds. Then I'm gonna sell them to good people." Niall was very proud of his new life as a trainer and businessman. "I am glad one of us has a plan for the future." She said lightly. But her eyes held a hint of something unsaid. It was gone after a moment and she chatted gaily with him as they moved on. So it was that the most unlikely pair strolled their way out of the market and back to The Swan. The two friends couldn't help but get a laugh from all the eyes that watched them pass by and looked forward to the many forms of gossip that were going to frequent The Swan about the Diva and the Ogre. "Silk Linens- Part 1" Kingdom Of Abertawe Sir Gwynne Hawley-Crest of Topaz Lady Jolene Burke Location: Alban Marketplace Gwynne had just come from the Caer, he had been told that some of his merchandise had arrived and he wished to look it over himself. He selected the best silks and linens, with fine embroidery, the most stylish colors and directed his employee to arrange it so it will sell well and quickly. It was in this way, selling to other merchants and to customers, that he was making 100 shillings a month and the profit margin was increasing. He would soon have his land and then he would begin building a manor and he would be back to some sense of normalcy. That was a bit away though. As he stood there directing, he saw Jolene, looking as stunning as ever. He could not imagine her being more beautiful than she looked when he saw her. "Excuse me," he said and walked over to Jolene, he bowed gallantly to her, a bright, shining glow upon his face, his smile shone as the sun, "Milady, it is once again a pleasure to see you. I trust you are well?" Jolene was dressed as a young noble woman, for it helped to keep some of the lesser intelligent oafs at bay. By keeping her face veiled, she could move around with some ease. Her trip with Niall had made transversing the market a more enjoyable task. She had stopped to admire some silk well beyond her means, but a lady could look. She looked up in surprise as she heard herself address and then saw the interfering knight. She wondered why he was so persistent in seeing himself as her savior. "Milady, I saw you looking at some silk there, might I show you some of mine?" he asked pleasantly, Gwynne was the perfect, gallant gentleman and even held out his arm to escort her to his own booth in the marketplace. It would be rude to refuse and Jolene did not want to be seen in a roe with him once again in public. "I would be honored." She answered with a defeated frown and took his arm. Gwynne walked her over to his booth, "This is where I make my living, it is a fine way to live. I am looking for an assistant. Anyway, feel this milady," he unrolled a piece of the silk and smiled at her, "what do you think?" he asked. He knew his silk was better than what she had seen. She looked at his wares in surprise. "You are in trade?" She asked. She had never heard of a knight in trade. His wares were of a fine quality. "Yes milady, I wanted to make my life better. You do not know my past, I am not the normal knight. We have similar pasts, do you like this fabric milady?" Gwynne asked. "It is very fine." She admitted. "Thank you for showing me." She made to leave politely. "Milady, please may we talk?" Gwynne asked, frowning, he did not touch her for he did not wish to offend her anymore. "Lass what must I do to gain your friendship? I am deeply sorry for the things I've done. I swear to you on Jesu's very name that I did not wish any slight to your reputation or personage, please know this milady. I just wish to speak with you? We are in public," Gwynne replied, frowning and sad that she was walking away. Jolene turned around and looked at him sadly. "I can not be your friend or any man's friend. Besides, the one attempt I made to apologize, you were so deeply in your cups that you do not even seem to remember." Her voice held no censure.. just a sad telling of truths. "I am sorry milady, I hurt no one when I drink. I drink to forget my past, I am very sorry. If a man did not care if you were bastard born would you then let him be your friend?" Gwynne asked. Jolene flinched as if he had slapped her. "If he feels he must." She finally managed to whisper. "I know about your past, and the secrets milady. And I do not care about the circumstances of your birth, or who your father is. I only care what is in your heart, surely lass that means something?" Gwynne asked, speaking from his heart. "You do not even know me." She pointed out looking about. This was not really the place for such a conversation. "Milady I know you better than you think, I am just asking for a chance to be your friend. To spend a quiet evening walking and discussing. I long for a friend, I mean you no harm, we have misunderstood one another. I am not a bad man milady, and all this between us has been a misunderstanding, I only long for the chance to show you Gwynne and for you to see he is a good and friendly man," Gwynne replied, desperately wanting her to give him a chance. "Why?" She asked thoughtfully. "Why do you care whether or not I approve of you at all? Are you in the habit of creating your own damsels in distress?" Her words again held no caustic censor, just honest inquiry. "No milady, I am just a man spellbound by your beauty," Gwynne replied honestly. Jolene blushed. "I see. One of many then, what makes you so different that I should grace you with my company and not another?" She couldn't helping teasing him a bit. "Well milady, I've done all I can to help you, wanted or unwanted. I have always been a gentleman, and my heart and intentions are all in the right place. I used to be a Prince of the Northlands, I know beauty when I see it," Gwynne smiled at her, flirting. She laughed lightly. "You are the same as any other courtier, praising what you see and not what the person beneath is worth. I am not worthy of your company, milord. I am honored that you think you can help me, but you cannot. I have lost my station and it will remain thusly. No man of noble birth will ever have me for there is more that you do not know and I do not wish to share." She glanced over at him. "But I am pleased to know that someone at least thought they could assist me. I am not in a bad situation. Master Pwyl is honorable and the custom is generous with their praise and their coin." "Milady, I am of noble birth and I know more than you realize. I know to whom I speak, and it all means nothing. You are a lady, noble or not, you are a lady. I am not some courtier, I am a man who sees a lovely, beautiful woman and wants to be able to know her better. I put no stock in the strange customs of man and kingdom, I put faith in the heart and the manner of person I see, do not betray that trust milady, for even I know such is rare in this world," he replied to her. "I would even like you to assist me, give you a house of your own, and you can still sing, I would pay you 10 shillings a week, surely that is more than you'd receive from Pwyll? Or his customers. You need not do anything but your job and picking out the best fabrics and writing. You would have a room of your own and still sing, you will not have a room of your own soon, and will have to bed with other women, am I right?" Gwynne asked. It was a generous offer and Jolene knew it. It seemed honorable but if he provided a house for her, she would feel obligated to him. She would be a kept woman whether he touched her or not. She bit her lip for she was not used to the life she had chosen and the thought of sharing her bed did not appeal to her at all. She was young and such an offer seemed heavenly, but she was also shrewd and knew that rare was such an offer without a larger price. "I will have to think about this." She finally replied. "I swear on my honor milady, as a Knight of this realm, that I will not touch you nor expect you to touch me in any way, unless you would have me do so," he smiled at the last part. "I give you my word as an honorable knight, I swear it. All you would do for me is run my business in my absence, live in a nice home in a respectable neighborhood, have your own bed, your own NEW clothes and 10 shillings a week. And you do not have to touch me in anyway milady," Gwynne replied. No woman in the city could make 10 shillings a week and Gwynne knew this well, but she was a lady, and deserved to live as such. Jolene shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't have to work in the market would I?" She knew that market women were considered lower then bards. "NO milady, I have Raphael here for that," Gwynne turned to regard Rahael whom he'd come to trust and had a good head for business. "He is a good man, he has a wife and six kids and he helps me here and in return his family is well taken care of. Helping others is a pattern in my life milady," Gwynne replied. "I also teach his children to read as I am a scholar," he added. He wanted to show her that he helped all those who would let him do so. "I see. I still must think about this. My mother taught me never to make a decision that could be thought out in a rash manner." She answered evasively. "That is all I ask milady, I am bound by my word. However, might I ask one more favor?" he smiled at her, his eyes flirting and playful. "You may ask, but I do not promise to fulfill it." She said carefully. "May I escort you this day? I would be honored to escort you through the market and to wherever you must go afterward, perhaps if you knew me better, allowed me to let you get to know me better you would see more in me than you do now. I am only guilty of helping too much and making mistakes that were not intended. Allow me to share who I am with you and then you can make your decision," Gwynne replied. He knew that soon he would journey to see her father and wanted her to know him, who he really was before he returned from that mission. Jolene could see no harm in that. They were, after all, within the common eye. "I will agree to that." She answered somewhat shyly. "Thank you milady, you honor me," Gwynne smiled happily. He then turned to Raphael, "My good friend, please see to it that this fabric is sent to Lady Jolene's residence at the Swan Inn," he smiled at her, he'd just given her an entire ream of silk fabric. "And be sure to sell the red satin today?" Gwynne asked, smiling at Raphael, knowing he would sell the satin and the rest of his inventory. The man was a good salesman. Gwynne offered his arm to the lass, "Lead on milady." Jolene was a little intimidated by such escort. It had been different with Niall, she had felt safe. While she knew she was in no physical danger, for some reason, she still did not feel safe. She smiled up at Gwynne. "I need to replace my shoes." She admitted. She had not yet found a cobbler. "I have some very nice leather, it would only then cost you the cobbling fee milady, what were you looking to buy?" he asked kindly. "I do not know. Something of simple make and comfort for when I need to walk about." She didn't have much experience in market places. "Come milady," he turned around and led her a few rows down from where his own booth was. At this booth were some of the finest shoes that were made in Alban, "Pick out whichever you think would be best and what you like miss, then I will give you some fine leather and you can tell the cobbler what you'd like him to make it into, that way you will have two fine pairs of shoes, fit for a lady of your stature," he smiled. "I cannot accept such generosity." She protested, though her eyes glanced over the wares with longing. "Milady, you may accept, I ask nothing of you in return. I assure you. I simply wish your kindness and good temper," Gwynne replied, he held her arm with a gallant refinedness, he was a gentleman and he acted like it now with her at his side. He was gentle, polite and looked on Jolene as if she were a true angel of the Lord. Jolene shifted uncomfortably. Again her mother's words haunted her. Such gifts usually held a high price. But, she needed shoes and her coffers were lighter then she would wish them to be. "All right." She sat about choosing her purchases but making sure to keep them as low as possible. Her eyes glanced longingly at the soft boots lined with soft kid's leather. But she passed them over when she saw the price. Finally her choices made, she thanked him once again. Gwynne had noticed she chose the shoes that were not too expensive and also noted the pair she truly wanted, he could tell by the sweet longing upon her face. "We will also take those here," he pointed to the ones she liked best. Before the lass could denounce him, he'd paid for them and was smiling at her, "They are yours now." "Your generosity is boundless, milord." She acknowledged. "I should not accept it." She pointed out softly, not wishing to make a scene. "There should be no reason to not accept it lass, it costs you nothing, I would buy the whole marketplace for you if I had such funds," he smiled at her, maybe revealing a bit too much of his feelings. "So you have four pairs of shoes now, and a ream of silk for a beautiful dress, what else do you need?" he asked gently. "Nothing." She answered quickly. "I have gotten what I wished." She dare not mention more for he might purchase it for her. "Well then I am hungry milady, might you accompany me for a bite to eat?" he asked, walking over to get a basket, he paid the vendor and moved on to get a nice large piece of white cloth from Raphael. "Eat with me lass? I know a nice meadow here in the city in plain view of the seeing eyes," he smiled. Jolene couldn't refuse him after his generosity. "Aye, " she answered quietly. "I would like to join you to eat." "Wonderful!" Gwynne said, clearly happy that she accepted his invitation. Gwynne was trying so hard to show her that he was indeed a good, thoughtful, generous man and that she had misjudged him. He had admittedly made mistakes with her at first that he had sorely regretted. He escorted the young lady to where the food was in the market, buying some cheese, grapes, apples and a loaf of bread. "Is there anything here you would like to eat milady?" he had placed the food he'd bought already in the basket. "What you have purchased is more then adequate." She murmured. She was not used to such attention and it clearly showed. "Then let us go eat milady," Gwynne turned to take her to the meadow where they could eat. It was in plain sight so no one could talk, people ate there all the time. "I trust you are having a nice day milady? Perhaps we should visit the tailor's and we can get a dress pattern for you?" he asked, as they walked. "That will not be necessary. I am an apt seamstress." She admitted. "I have sewn my own ensembles since I was 12." "I hope I will be able to see the dress when you are finished? If you are a seamstress, perhaps you can make some dresses if you accept my partnership, or at least judge other seamstresses and tell me if they would be good to hire," he mentioned thoughtfully. This actually interested her. Her eyes met his with quick regard. "I would like that. I would not wish to be a seamstress for the public for it is harsh work, but I do like to sew now and then." She admitted. "I know a good seam when I see one." She paused. "You know so much about me, do you know my age?" She asked carefully. "Yes milady, you are sixteen summers, and a stunning sixteen summers you are," he smiled kindly to her. "How old are you?" She asked somewhat abruptly. He was a handsome man and he scared her somewhat. "I am twenty-two summers milady, born as the third son of the King of the Northlands. My brothers were jealous of me, my people wanted me to be king when my father died. So they banished me from my own land. I have had nothing of my own since, no land, no title. All I have I have earned, fortunately I am good with a sword and possess an able mind, I have always regarded knowledge to be just as valuable as a sword," he smiled at her. He had in that one small bit, told her the summation of his life, leaving out the most painful moments. "That must be hard." She murmured. They had reached the meadow and the two lay out the lunch. Jolene did not speak again till the food was laid out before him. "So you are actually a prince, not just a knight?" She answered carefully. "Aye milady, a Prince without a crown, without land, without a people. What wealth I have I have made on my own. I was given a loan, and have used it to gain the wealth I have. In many ways we are alike, both losing our heritages, uprooted from our homes," he smiled, letting her know he knew more about her than he had told her. "But you may one day be called home as King? If your brothers were to perish, you would be King?" She pointed out. "No I am sure their sons would take the throne, if I go back home I could be killed, state executions in my homeland are not pleasant," Gwynne replied sadly, for he missed home and he missed his sister Esselia. "That is very sad, but still, you never know. I cannot ever return home either." She said staring off at a portion of the city. "I know milady, I feel a certain kinship to you because of that. I have never met another that is in a similar situation as myself, perhaps that's why I wish to befriend you. We understand each other to a degree," he replied, then chewing a piece of bread. "But your birth is not in question." She pointed out sadly. It was clear that this had become a major dilemma for the young lady. "Milady, regardless of your birth, I will always accept you. And nothing will make me look down on you. You are gorgeous creature, one to be treasured and appreciated, not spurned because of birth. You could not control the circumstances of your birth, nor should you be held accountable for who your parents were," he said gently, with much caring. "There is more to it than what you have found in some dusty library." She said sadly. She stood brushing a few crumbs off her skirt. "I should get back." "Milady please stay, you have not even finished your lunch, eat please?" Gwynne replied, beckoning her to sit back down. "It does not matter to me the circumstances, I take and consider people according to their own merit, please return and finish eating with me?" he asked very politely. She looked at him nervously and then slowly sat back down. "I am sorry. I am not used to .. I am not used to social engagements anymore." "Lass I assure you, I only want to enjoy your pleasant company. I am not concerned about your circumstances. It does not matter, I will help you regardless and stand at your side if you let me and support you through this painful and trying time. Can you let me enjoy your company? You are very pleasant, I have had a wonderful day," he smiled at her, trying to show her that he spoke truth and from the heart. "Can you understand that I find such generosity hard to accept?" She asked quietly. "Mostly because I am unused to it." "Yes milady, I understand but it will not stop me from offering my generosity," he smiled back at her. She slowly smiled. "And there are no conditions to this generosity?" She asked once again. "I only ask for your friendship and your consideration milady, I have no friends here in Alban, those I know at the castle are those I work with, and though I love them as brothers, we do little outside of the castle," he replied. "I honestly just want to spend time with you and know you milady, I do not expect anything. I am a gentleman, and wish to protect your virtue, not take it," he replied gallantly. She glanced at him, uncertain. He was a knight, his word was supposed to be his bond. But Jolene had already learned that not all was ever as it seemed and not all that should be honorable, were! "I do not see the harm in that," She conceded. "I assure you milady I am a man of my word. I do hope you will truly consider my offer to partner with me. It would do my business well to have a lady's opinion on the merchandise I sell. You would have an entire home to yourself, I would sleep in my quarters in the castle. The home would serve as my mercantile headquarters, and the upstairs would be all yours, your home. I just ask that you take care of the business when I am away, and to look over the books in my absence, help me select the wares, find seamstresses and sew yourself when you are able, honestly I think you would enjoy it milady. And I am not asking you to leave the Swan, because quite honestly I enjoy hearing your voice, it is so pretty," Gwynne smiled. "It is a tempting offer, milord, I will not lie to you." She said with a soft answer. She took a bite of bread and thought more upon his offer. "It would honor me if you would take it. You would be respected and adhered to milady, you are an intelligent young lady. I admire you greatly. Please know that it helps me as much as you, for with a lady's touch my business could triple it's profit and I would share a portion of it with you. You deserve a better life than a Tavern milady, I am doing all I can to assure you that is what you receive," when Gwynne spoke he spoke to her from his heart, she was so lovely and he only wanted to help. Though he could not hide his attraction. She looked away guiltily. "You do not know me." she said playing with the hem of her long sleeve. "Then let me know you lass?" Gwynne asked softly. "Let me get to know you, trust me. I have trusted you? I swear nothing would change my opinion of you Jolene," Gwynne used her name for the first time today. "I doubt that." She said quietly. She forced a smile to her face. "Come, let us speak of something else." "Okay, you told me that you once tried to apologize to me and I was drunk in my cups, are you willing to listen as to why I do that?" he asked. "I will trust you with this, do you care to know?" She looked at him somewhat startled. "It is not my concern?" She pointed out gently. "No but neither is your past, but I care milady," Gwynne replied. "I drink because I wish to forget, the bottle has become my only friend, it's always there. I never hurt anyone, and I never drink outside the tavern. I go there drink, and leave after I wake up. I have left many things behind that were dear to me, and had no say, there is much pain in that milady. So please do not think badly of me, I am better than that bottle, but I have no one now. I have not dealt with that easily," Gwynne replied. He was honest with her. Hopefully when she was comfortable, she'd be honest with him. She looked at him and frowned. "To drown one's sorrows in ale is only to escape them for awhile. Those sorrows still will be there once you have found your head again?" "Aye milady, but at least they are gone for a little while," he replied, looking down to get a grape from the basket, unable to look at her in that moment. He had been TOO honest. "I wish I could do that? But I cannot." she sighed and took a grape as well. "I would like to help lass, I wish you would let me. I think you do me a disservice in underestimating me. I inadvertently offended you when we first met, but I meant no harm, inside here," he placed his hand on his heart, "I am a good man, and try to help those in need. I do not judge others, it would be a great honor if you were able to trust me some day," he told her truthfully. "It would be a miracle if I trusted anyone." She said looking directly into his eyes. "It is not just you." "I believe in miracles," he smiled back at her. She slowly smiled. "You would." She popped a piece of bread in her mouth. "I used to." "I will not hurt you lass, you can trust me. I would give my life to save yours, surely that means something? I have stood up and protected you, and I have wanted nothing in return. I understand that life is harsh and weathered, but before you sits a kind, trustworthy man, you may tell me anything and it stays with me," he smiled at her, unable not to flirt with her, she enchanted him. He was having trouble hiding it. Jolene could not help but laugh. "This is the same man that announced to the inn that I was under his protection." She grinned for he now knew what that meant. Gwynne blushed a deep royal purple as she said that, "I am so sorry for that milady, that was never my intention, I swear it on my own soul," he frowned. "If I accept your offer, it will only be more truly accepted as truth." She pointed out more somberly. "Well the offer to marry is still a possibility, that way your reputation is in tact and everyone would just think we were courting when the rumors were bandied about," he smiled, winking at her, Gwynne did not hide his playful nature here. If she accepted, he would be happy, if she laughed then all was well. He won either way. A man with a sense of humor was important to a lass. Jolene frowned. "I had not realized that such an offer had been anything more then a jest." She could never accept but she had never believed his offer serious. "Milady as I said, I would do anything to protect you and your reputation. I would do anything to see you well off, to see that you lived according to your custom. As a knight I cannot lie to a lady, I find you most attractive and would be honored to have you as a wife, but I also know there's a bit of pride and fear in you, I see it in your eyes. I understand your feelings, it was both a jest and a serious solution. For if we married, no one could slander us, for we did what was right, you see?" Gwynne replied, hoping to Jesu he had not just stuck his foot in his mouth. Would she rather he lie to her? "I am honored, but I cannot in good conscience accept." She said quietly and then looked back out across the meadow. "It is better that people talk." "Milady? Just days ago you were quite upset with me because I had accidentally said things that would make people talk, now that is okay?" Gwynne smiled. She was switching her stance here, that was plain to see. "It is not acceptable, but I can never wed." She said, shivering slightly even though the day was quite warm. "Of course you can milady, that is nonsense. Nothing your family has done would cause you not to marry," Gwynne replied. "I have to go." She stood abruptly. "I must get back." She did not look at him. Gwynne's quickness served him well and he was on his feet and blocking her path before she had time to get away, he gently took her wrist, not hurting just stopping her. He let go and looked into her eyes, "My lady, talk to me please? No matter what you're hiding it would change nothing. Let me help you, trust me, I have done nothing but try to help you and have asked for nothing in return, that deserves a little trust? Why can't you get married? There's so many why's in my head, I know some of the story, but you're hiding more, please milady, trust me and tell me what is amiss in your cirscumstances?" Gwynne asked intently. Her eyes filled with tears. "I cannot." She whispered. She shook her head and took a step back. "It would only serve to cause more harm then good." "If you've had a child, that would not matter, if you've killed someone, that wouldn't matter, bastard born? None of that would matter. If those things are not it then what could possibly be so terrible milady? I can think of nothing else? Whatever is wrong would not leave these lips," Gwynne promised her. "You are a knight, sworn to uphold certain principles. It would matter, milord, trust me. I thank you for your company and for the food you have provided. I will think on your first offer with seriousness." Her manner had become reserved once again. "Milady, I thank you for your delightful company, I would escort you back to the tavern. It is my duty as a knight," Gwynne stated. "But before we leave here, you should know that I have not been true to my principles already. I have lied twice to protect you," he told her, his voice intense and still very concerned. Her gaze met his with startled suddeness. "What do you mean?" She asked with concern. "In my search to find more information about you and your family, Lord Alterian and Earl Sanglet have both asked about you, I lied to them so that they would not find you. I lied to keep you safe, they do not know where you are at and I made sure they would not find out. How much must one man do to show you that his words are not empty? I have risked my station and my very existence to protect you," he told her honestly. She trembled before him, it was clear that she was becoming deeply upset. It was also clear that this young lady had led a very sheltered life for such truths were more then she seemed capable of handling. "I did not ask you too?" She whispered in confusion. "You did not have to ask, I did it because I care," he replied, his voice low, but not a whisper. He could not bring himself to say more, she could barely bring herself to touch him, much less return feelings that he had trouble dealing with himself. For his true feelings did not lie and he could not hide them. "Good day, Sir Gwynne, I saw you from a distance and thought I would come to pay my respects?" A sugared voice said from behind him. He turned to see Lady Morgan. "Oh dear, it would seem I am interrupting something of import." She said taking in the young girl's tear-filled eyes. "Milady," Gwynne turned and bowed gallantly to Lady Morgan. Gwynne was shocked to see Morgan, he had not heard from her in weeks and now she shows up at the worst possible time? He did not even trust Lady Morgan, she had dealings with Sanglet. "No milady, just comforting this lass here. She is a widow, Lady Madelaine, may I introduce to you Lady Morgan of Aberaeron," Gwynne smiled at Jolene, and tried to get her to play along. Jolene dropped a curtsey. "Milady." Morgan moved up to Gwynne and put a hand on his arm. "That is so kind of you." She purred. She turned to the young girl in front of them. "He is such a gentleman. You should be proud to have such a comforter, lass. You are far to young to be a widow." Morgan smiled possessively up at Gwynne. Gwynne blushed, playing along with the nice scene he'd lied to create. "She has much support, Lady Morgan, you have been away quite some time, where have you been for the past few weeks? I am quite surprised to see you? Did your aide send you word of my payment? One thousand shillings," Gwynne replied. "The kind Lady Morgan gave me a generous loan," Gwynne explained to Jolene. Anything to get the conversation away from Jolene. "I have come to see you in regards to that matter." Morgan said. "I can see you have business. I will speak with you later, Sir Gwynne." Jolene made to move past them. "Please Lady Madelaine, my business is not secret, I promised to escort you home. Please continue Lady Morgan, I hope the payment was satisfactory?" Gwynne smiled very pleasantly to both women, but discretely kept Jolene at bay. "Actually, Sir Gwynne, I would prefer to renew matters of our business in a more private location." Morgan suggested in a sultry manner. Jolene gasped for even somewhat naive as she was, she could discern the lady's meaning. "Yes milady, as you know I am a man of my word. I must escort Lady Madelaine home and then can meet you anywhere you wish to discuss business?" Gwynne replied politely, still being considerate and polite to both women and taking control of the situation as well. "Wonderful, I will be staying at the Swan for a few days. Perhaps we can meet there as before?" She suggested coyly. Jolene flashed a worried look to Sir Gwynne for now he had truly compromised her by saying she was someone else and the lady would be staying at the very place she worked. "As you wish milady," Gwynne smiled at both women and turned to take Jolene's arm, "I will see you in a half hour Lady Morgan?" Gwynne replied pleasantly. "I would be honored. It was my pleasure to make your acquaintance Lady Madelaine." Morgan said with a smile. "You are going to leave your lunch?" For they were leaving the basket that Gwynne had purchased. Gwynne blushed deep read and smiled at Morgan, "Oh yes, the basket," Gwynne retrieved the basket and returned to Jolene. "See you very soon milady," he said to Morgan and took off down the street with Jolene on his arm. Once they were a bit away, he whispered to Jolene, "Lass I am sorry, that caught me by surprise. She knows Alterian and I believe she knows Sanglet. I will take you to the home we spoke of today, it would be yours anyway if you decided to come and work with me. I will be sure to have Morgan out of the Swan on the days you sing and if she calls you Madelaine around the others, say it is your middle name and let it end there, I apologize. Once again I have made a vast mistake, I am sorry. But, I will protect you no matter the cost," Gwynne told her truthfully. "You will be safe at my mercantile headquarters, I assure you." "I have to return to the Swan?" She said with concern. "Master Pwyl is expecting me?" "I will tell Pwyll where you are and to keep it secret, we can trust him," Gwynne replied. "Lady Morgan will know nothing, I will not let anything happen to you," he told her from his heart. Why had Morgan showed up right then? Oh her timing was truly horrid. Jolene was confused and did not understand why it mattered if this woman knew who she was. "You act as if I am in danger?" "Take into account milady, that I do not know what you are hiding from me about your family or your past, or both--- and two of the most powerful men in this city know your name and your family and have asked your whereabouts, I would say that is reason to be concerned?" Gwynne asked. They were half way to Gwynne's second home now. "I .. " She did not know what to do, "I am safe at the Swan? Niall and Pwyl protect me?" She said uncertainly. "If Morgan is at the Swan now milady, you are not safe there regardless of Niall and Pwyl. For Morgan could relay news that she saw you there, if she knew your true identity and betray you to Alterian or Sanglet. I do not wish that milady, for I do not even know what this is about, and since you have told me nothing, I must ere on the side of caution," Gwynne replied. "This is the home," he said, stopping in front of a beautiful three-story building. It was a captivating home, well-made, painted with care, for the city it was considered well to-do, upper class and in one of the finest neighborhoods of Alban. Gwynne opened the door and let her enter first. "What do you think? You can redecorate if you wish?" he asked her. Jolene looked at him in panic. She felt suddenly trapped and frightened. "It is very nice." She managed to squeak out. At that moment, she looked her more tender age of 16. Gwynne saw how frightened she looked and immediately went to her and wrapped his arms around her to comfort her, "It is okay milady, I swear you are safe here." She remained stiff in his arms, trembling. "I just wanted to walk in the market." She whispered. Now everything was all askew and all because he had spoken about her in court. "You are alright, you can still walk in the market, I swear I will rectify this, but lass what am I rectifying?" he looked at her, his eyes penetrating her soul. "I want to go back to the Swan." She whispered. "You said I could think about it and now I must be here?" "All right milady, but would you be in danger if Lord Alterian or Earl Sanglet knew you were here in Alban?" Gwynne asked. Jolene bit her lip. It was possible that her father had sent a request to send her home to Lord Alterian. She had not seen him since she was very small. "I don't know." She admitted finally. "Jolene tell me what is going on with you please and then I will honestly determine if it is safe. I am acting on assumption here, I can only do so much with a small bit of the facts," Gwynne replied. "My father does not know I am here." She ventured carefully, trying to give him enough to work with and still keep what she felt must be kept from him. "Yes milady?" Gwynne asked, looking at her expecting more to come. "I .. I do not have permission to be away from home and he is still my gaurdian. It is possible that he would send word to Lord Alterian that I am missing." She finally admitted, not looking at him. "That is all milady? You've just run away from home? I thought it was serious?" he asked. "I cannot go back." She said worriedly. "If my father knows where I am, he will force me to return." "Why can't you return?" Gwynne asked, still not understanding the situation, she was very good at vagaries. Her eyes filled with tears once again and she looked truly terrified. "I cannot tell you." She managed to whisper. "All right milady, then do what you wish, I will stand by you no matter what happens. I did not mean to scare you by bringing you here, I thought I was protecting you from something or someone. I apologize once again," Gwynne replied, sitting down in a nearby chair, clearly not happy that he was kept in the dark about this. Jolene did not know what to do. To tell him, to tell anyone was to risk a greater mess. To not tell him left him floundering about trying to find out on his own. She moved to him and got down to her knees at his feet. "Is it not enough to know that to return will be a horrid end for me? To know that no one will hear me sing?" She said trying to explain without really telling all. "Aye lass," Gwynne replied, clearly wanting more but he said nothing about it nor pressed further. "I will give my life to save you from such an end, I would be more sad to not see you, than to not hear you sing," he admitted. For the last two weeks all he could think about was Jolene. "I do not know what to do. If you had not been so persistent, I would be in no danger? Yet, I know you were trying to help? Perhaps you could go to Master Pwyl and at least let him know that I must not return to the Inn due to Lady Morgan? But then, he will want to know why and he has been so kind to me?" Gwynne could tell that the girl was at her breaking point. Having led a sheltered life, she was not used to protecting herself. Gwynne sighed heavily, clearly sad, he placed his hands upon his face and said, "I did not mean to hurt you milady nor cause you trouble, I simply wanted to help, I am so sorry," he replied, he felt horrible that he'd messed up with her again. He'd never made so many mistakes with one person in his entire life. Why was he a bumbling idiot around her? "I know that, but I don't know what to do now?" She said honestly. "I .. I thought it would be simple to be in a well known inn and sing for my keep?" "Well until I came along," Gwynne said sadly. "I am sorry I have caused you so much trouble. I have been the bumbling idiot, me! A learned scholar of 8 years! A bumbling idiot," he sighed, clearly upset. "Do what you think best milady, I will rescue you, save you, support you, do what needs be done so you may be happy, such as I am," he replied. She looked at him in confusion. He had brought her to this point and now expected her to figure out what to do. "I don't know what is best." She said worriedly. "Milady, I'll be honest with you. I am a strategist for the King. I build siege warcraft. But, I cannot do my job for the King if he does not send out scouts to search the enemies strength and weaknesses, just as I cannot help you without the entire story. You cannot tell me the whole story, so you must make your decision and I shall act accordingly," he told her. Her face flushed with shame and she fell silent still on her knees before him. "You have tried to be kind and I have not been very forthcoming. I swear to you that I have good reason." "Milady, I would hope that I have proven myself by now. I care only for your well-being, not about why you hide from your father. I care about the reason because how it affects you, not for any other reason. I do not understand why you will not tell me, otherwise I am blind and do not know what I am facing. And even still I am willing to endure it, blindly, does that not say something about my character and being?" he asked her. He did not know what else to say, if his own character did not convince her, nothing would he'd be at a disadvantage through all of this. Jolene sat and thought upon his words. "My father wants me to return to take my mother's place. She died and as he and I are not true kin.." She could not go on. She trembled before him, for Lord Burke had the right to dispose of her as he chose. If Gwynne was a strong follower of law, then he would be honor bound to return her to her lord. "I cannot allow that to happen milady, for I have fallen in love with you. I wish to be with you, and hopefully Lord Burke will not be your first choice. Do you know what would stop this milady? Marriage. If you were to be married, Lord Burke could do nothing and he'd have to find another. I would marry you because of how I feel and at the same time save you from your step-father," Gwynne replied. He had finally told her the truth, he felt sick to his stomach at being so honest and knew that she would leave him and he'd never see her again, like all the rest. "I cannot marry, Sir Gwynne, I told you this. Firstly, I would have to have his permission." She pointed out. "Not if you eloped," Gwynne replied. "I know the priest here at the church, and if that is not good enough, I shall deal with Lord Burke myself and force his permission," Gwynne smiled, he would do just that if he had too. "I cannot marry." She insisted with a hoarse whisper. She got up from the floor and paced for a moment before she looked at him. "I know how gracious your offer is for you do not even know me. Your generosity I will never forget. I will just go to another city." "If you do not have any feeling for me I understand, but I will miss you always and pray to Jesu that you do not go lass, you can marry and if you would allow me, I will go to your step-father's house and force him to sign a parchment of betrothal. Don't doubt me on this milady, for before this day I had planned to go and offer him a dowry for your hand, this is not a spur of the moment thing, I have loved you since the night I first heard you sing and you mesmerized my heart," he told her honestly. "Please, go speak to Master Pwyl, give me time to think on this? Please? I do not know you. I do not know what to do. I only know that I cannot return back for he does not intend to marry me." Her eyes told more then her words. "He has already laid with you hasn't he milady?" Gwynne asked, his eyes full of compassion for the girl. She did not answer and she did not look at him. Her silence filled the room with a greater tension then her fears. "My dearest lady, if this be the case, I would still proudly take your hand in marriage. You are much too precious and beautiful. I told you that the ideals of men are not mine, that I do not always see things as they do, and tis true lass. I know the truth now, and would still happily marry you," he replied, walking to her and taking her into his arms. "I do not know you." She whispered. She was so confused and her head hurt. The thought of her father even knowing where she was had struck terror throughout her body and she could not think straight. She trembled in his arms, he could feel her fear and confusion in the tension of her young body. "I understand Jolene, I have just made it possible for you to live a life every young lady dreams of, I will not force you, but I would be a happy man to wake up to see your face beside me and to hear you sing at every opportunity. I would be honored for you to be known as Lady Hawley, stay here lass and think things through," he told her, he held her close, comforting with all gentleness. She nodded acceptance. "You will tell Master Pwyl that I am safe and what has occurred?" She asked worriedly. "He has been kind and protective and I would not worry him and Niall." "Aye lass, what do you wish me to tell him?" he asked softly, still holding her, she felt right in his arms. "What ever you think he needs to know." She didn't know what else to do. "I will be discrete. There's food if you get hungry, there's firewood, the bed upstairs is rather comfortable. There's books in the library, if there's anything else you need, please let me know. I will be back after I've met with Lady Morgan," Gwynne replied, the apex of polite host. Jolene nodded, her head hurt to bad to worry about eating or entertainment. "I will be back shortly milady, rest and think on things," Gwynne bowed to her as he would bow to a queen, then turned a 180 on his heels and walked out the door and was on his way to meet Lady Morgan. Jolene collapsed into a chair. How had things turned around in such a horrid manner? Not that being married to Sir Gwynne was necessarily horrid, but it had not been what she had planned at all; no.. not at all. "We're home" Niall ap Gavin - Giant Koda and Kain - Niall's Dogs Spirit - Niall's Hawk Whisper - Niall's Horse Swithen - The Bartender / NPC Niall had enjoyed his walk with Jolene. She seemed such a nice lady. It was sad that she had a few problems that appeared to be too hard to take care of. 'Why is it that nice people always seem to be in trouble?' Niall thought to himself. Niall shrugged his shoulders as if answering his own question with an 'I don't know'. Niall wasn't one that could think things through like that and felt bad he couldn't help her. Niall walked into The Swan but found no sign of Pwyll. Niall was so busy looking for Pwyll that he hadn't noticed or heard Swithen as he stood behind the counter waving his arms and saying Niall's name. Niall's attentioned was finally attracted when Swithen, fed up with screeming for the big ox, threw an empty bottle and squared Niall in the back. Niall turned around, "HEY! What'd ya do that for!" "Well, you big deaf wall, I couldn't get your attention any other way!" Swithen retorted as he placed his hands on his hips. "All ya had to do was say something!" Niall yelled back. Swithen through his arms in the air in frustation as the rest of the patrons and employees began laughing histarically. Niall began laughing with them as he thought he had made some kind of joke and got one over on Swithen. Swithen just shook his head, "Get over here. Pwyll left something for me to give you." Swithen then reached down to pull something from under the bar. Niall ran up to the bar like a child in anticipation of candy and began jumping as Swithen handed Niall the deed to his new property. Swithen had to help Niall with the directions but as soon as Swithen finished, Niall whistled in an ackward key that brought Koda and Kain right to his side. Then he whistled a short bird call and Spirit came flying around the corner landing on his shoulder. Niall and his friends bolted out the front door and into the barn where Niall saddled whisper, the last of his family, and left for his new land. The ride took an hour at the fast pace Niall had set, but as they all rounded the hill, Niall brought everyone to a halt. Niall was practically in tears as he stared out over the valley with the running water, lush grass, and beautiful trees. Niall must have sat there in the saddle for another hour in amazement of the view. He wasn't sure if he thought it was beautiful because it really was or if it was because he owned it. Then again, he didn't care why. He began picturing the barn and stable area where Whisper and his new horse would sleep. He could see the two story house he would have built just a short ways off from the barn. He turned his head a little bit east and noted the kennel area where he would breed and train Koda and Kain. Just south of it would stand a large bird house for Spirit and his new falcons. Niall, so swept up in emotion, got out of the saddle. Niall then fell to his knees and wept as his hands came up to his cheeks. He didn't want to cover his eyes and block his vision. Koda and Kain laid to each side of him and rested their heads in Niall's lap. Spirit called out from her perch on the saddle and flapped her wings as Whisper lowered his head and nibbled the back of Niall's shirt. Niall was spellbound as he continued to look over the land and reflected on his life. Everything he had gone through... the humiliation, the shame, the guilt, and the loneliness. He was told he would never amount to much. Yet, here he sat on his knees and stared over land ... his land. A smile crept over his face as he realized how he had proven everyone wrong. Niall then looked into the faces of each of his friends. The only ones to have been there for his ups and his downs. Niall placed his hands on the heads of Koda and Kain and stared into the valley one last time. He opened his mouth but his voice cracked. All he could manage to mutter out was... "We're Home" "Between Two Soft Places" Kingdom Of Abertawe Sir Gwynne Hawley- Crest of Topaz Lady Morgan Brasar Location: The Swan Inn Gwynne knew things were dangerous now, and he also knew that he had to save Jolene from her step-father. The poor lass, Gwynne felt her pain as if it were his own, and he'd do whatever it took to help her regardless of what it cost him. That was Gwynne, that was why his brothers hated him and his countrymen loved him. Gwynne entered the Swan and walked to the bar, "What room is Lady Morgan in please?" Gwynne asked. "She be in number three, milord." Meg said with a quick curtsey. This was the man who had left the bardess the note. She flashed him a knowing smile. If he was looking about, she wouldn't mind him looking in her direction. Gwynne gave the young lass a warm, courteous smile, "Thanks lass," and proceeded to the stairs. It did not take him long to get to room three. He knocked on the door discretely and waited. He had no idea what Morgan wanted or what she'd do. Would she be jealous? Did she even care? So many things ran through his head as he stood there and waited, each second seemed like an eternity. Morgan opened the door and stepped aside to allow him entry. Her hair had been unbraided and brushed out till it shown in the lamp light. "Sir Gwynne. I had begun to dispair that you would not join me?" "My apologies milady," he bowed graciously to her, "I was detained on matters of business milady, I came as soon as I could. I apologize for making you wait. You look quite beautiful," he smiled and slowly walked into her room. Morgan moved to him to wrap her arms around his neck and welcome him properly. "I have missed you." She said huskily. "And I have missed you," he smiled at her, letting his arms snake around her waist, he pulled her closer to him as he stared into her deep blue pools. "I had thought you would not return, it has been too long," he told her softly. Morgan kissed him tenderly. "I had business that needed my attention. I am sorry. It pleases me that you felt my absence." "I did lass, after our last night together how could I not?" Gwynne replied with a smile, he drank in the sweet taste of her lips, kissing her in between his spoken words. Morgan melted against him. "I have been so scared. I feel safe here in your arms. It has been a horrid time since I have left." Her words invoked a true, heartfelt compassion then and he held her closer, "What has happened? You know that I will do what I can to protect you," he replied, unable to hide the true concern in his eyes and voice. "Lord Iowerth and Sir Feirha came to my manse and all but accused me of murdering the king's mistress. I did not even know he had a mistress or that she had been murdered. I thought I would be put to the sword right there." She trembled against him. "Why would they have reason to suspect you?" Gwynne asked, thinking that odd. "The princess said something against me. I am not sure what made them believe that I would kill a member of the noble household." She answered. She buried her face against his neck. "Aye, I have helped the little princess several times, we have become friends. She speaks against you constantly and does not trust you. She even came against me once for liking you. What proof was there?" Gwynne wondered, he was curious. So many things were happening all at once. "I think that is why I still stand here with you. There was no proof. I have not been so scared." She kissed him again and then with more passion. Gwynne returned her passion. He was torn between three women, one seemed to be fading from the picture, the other was still undecided and Morgan was here in his arms kissing him passionately. Gwynne was only human, besides this woman had given him money, had helped him when no one else would. He knew that he could not nay say her, or deny her. "Love me!" She whispered in his ear. "I have missed you and I need the comfort of your arms." Gwynne knew that in his heart he wanted Jolene, but caught between his obligations to Morgan he knew that he had to love her here and now. It wasn't like this was a bad thing, she was gorgeous, and there was no guarantee with Jolene. His mind was a mess, his mind riddled with thoughts of the three women, and his memorable night with Morgan all those months ago. Gwynne took hold of her, kissing her with all his passion and desire, leading her backward to her bed, until her legs touched the edge of the mattress. He gently pushed her back and continued to kiss. All of this shocked him, but he found that he did indeed want her, needed her. Morgan returned his kisses with abandon. She could not lose this knight to some mewling lass barely out of the nursery. Gwynne reacted to her kisses and matched her passion. Gwynne gently removed her bodice and began to unlace her overdress and pull her chemise from her chest. Once her bare breasts were exposed to him, he pleased them with lips, hand and tongue, paying them attention and enjoying the foreplay, and as he saw her beauty, the confusion began to wane. Morgan spent the next two hours making sure that Sir Gwynne knew not only the expanse of her charms, but the depth of her affection for him. She lay curled in his arms in the aftermath of lovemaking. "I am glad I found you today." She whispered. "Aye Morgan, I am glad you found me as well, I thought I'd never see you again and then this," he cuddled her closer to him, wrapping his leg lovingly with hers. "You are so beautiful," he told her softly, his hands slowly combing through her long blonde hair, he was mesmerized by her great beauty and his eyes told of his wonder. She was incredible and had taken him to ethereal heights with her lovemaking. She did love him, he had begun to suspect that she did not. Those doubts were now gone. "If I cannot clear my name with the King, I may have to leave." She said sadly. "Would you go with me if I did?" "Where would you go?" Gwynne asked, rather shocked, he was unsure what he would do. "I do not know. I came here to make a new life but this little princess has turned the royal family against me and I have only spoken with her once?" She sighed sadly. "If I could speak to her again, I am sure I could rectify this matter." "You will not have to leave, we will find a way. The princess is well guarded but I have access to her, but I cannot betray her either or I would lose the little one's trust. I will go with you but will need to find a place to base my business. Does this mean we are courting?" he asked playfully. "What does this mean between us lass?" Gwynne asked more seriously. He had to know if this was a fling, or if she wanted more. Things just became even more complicated for Gwynne. "I had not thought upon it.. I only know that I feel safe and loved when I am with you." She said. "Do you think you could arrange for the princess to go out for a picnic? Then I could speak with her?" "You are safe and loved when you are with me," he replied, his hand gently resting on her cheek. "Yes, I could get the lass to a picnic, in fact I am one of the few Knights she trusts, Lord Iorwerth has no qualms to entrust her to my care. You mustn't give the little princess any reason to fear you or feel threatened or it will only make things worse," Gwynne replied. "Give her a gift, something to gain her trust, don't seem so --- she sees you as a threat to her life, her visions. She went to your room when you were here last and was so afraid that she passed out, whatever she thinks of you, you must rectify and quickly or the Royal family will not wait for proof," Gwynne added. "Her visions?" Morgan inquired curiously. "I don't understand?" "The little one has visions, prophetic, foreboding visions, she also can feel evil. She said by touching your medallion she could feel your evil," Gwynne replied, "I believe her rambling to be that of a child with an active imagination." "Her family must believe in them for them to act on them?" She said with a little bit of fear in her voice. "I can not even hope to sway that?" "Then sway the Royal family with favors Morgan, if the girl sees you as evil, and the Royal family sees you as loyal, kind and a contributor to their success, the girl's visions will be undermined. Show them you're loyalty, gain their trust and you can continue to live your life in peace," Gwynne replied, Morgan's body once again began to call to him. "I have been forbidden entrance to the palace." She said quietly. "Why?" Gwynne asked. "If there is no proof, then," Gwynne paused. "On second thought lass, you can still gain their good favor whether at the palace or not, you are an intelligent lady, I trust that you can find ways to gain their trust and regain privileged passage into the Caer walls again," Gwynne smiled, his hands began to tenderly roam her body as he spoke to her. "I have purchased an estate. It lies on the edge of Sanglet's estate. He was most kind in arranging its purchase. Have you considered perhaps ceasing your wandering and settling down?" She asked casually. "Aye Morgan, I work hard at my business so that I may buy my own estate someday and gain title," Gwynne replied. "Why do you ask?" Gwynne inquired, thinking it strange that she changed the subject so quickly. "I was just curious. I mean, a widow is such an easy target to some people." She said as if thinking aloud. "An easy target? Milady I have already paid you 2,500 shillings, that's 25% of what you loaned me. I am not trying to take advantage of you, not at all. I enjoy having you in my arms," Gwynne replied, a bit offended by her words. She looked up at him with surprise. "My meaning, Sir Gwynne, was that I am alone in a manor house and therefore considered an easy target for more menacing foe?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why, what did you think I meant?" "My apologies Morgan, I thought you were implying I was with you for your money, I am terribly sorry milady," he kissed her tenderly on the cheek. He meant her no disrespect, just an innocent misunderstanding. Poor Gwynne was on edge at the moment. "Someone should be there to protect you," he said with a smile. "That was actually what I thought. But then, I saw you with that young widow, perhaps, you have your attentions deigned elsewhere?" She said, searching a bit for his intentions. Gwynne knew he couldn't hesitate, he smiled at her, letting his hands wander to her nether regions, "Whose bed am I in milady?" he asked seductively. "Perhaps that is simply cause the lass hasn't offered?" She said huskily. "I was simply being a gentleman Morgan, I was helping the lass," Gwynne replied with a smile. "You have captured my heart," Gwynne replied. "You're beauty is overwhelming to my senses," he smiled, letting his hands flow through her long blonde tresses. She kissed him softly. "Then help me with the princess?" She whispered. "And then perhaps you would consider an estate by marriage rather then purchase?" Gwynne was truly shocked by her offer. He was silent for at least a few minutes. "I shall help you with the princess, and consider marriage milady, it sounds wonderful. Do you love me enough to marry me milady?" Gwynne asked. For whether he married or not he would still get his title. "I believe that we suit. I believe that love comes after a couple have found their common ground. I could grow to love you." She said with a sincere expression. "But you do not love me now?" Gwynne asked, frowning at that. "We have met but a handful of times, milord. I am not a young girl with clouded dreams to fall in love at the first hand's kiss." She answered caressing his face. "I find you pleasing in company and comfort. I thought you found me so as well?" "I do lass, I do so very much, we do make a fine pair. I just--- I could not ask for a more pleasing, more beautiful wife. I would be honored to be your husband," Gwynne replied. Jolene had told him no three times now. He could still help her with the job, she did not love him anyway. Morgan went to bed with him, to Gwynne that showed something. "You will acknowledge me as the head of the household?" he asked. "Of course." She purred. "But first we must solve this problem with the princess. I want to be able to come to court? If I am out of favor, there is no use in staying in Abertawe." "Aye milady, we will be able to convince the Princess. Give her something of value, something she would like, show her a true, heartfelt kindness and she will come around. I will make gifts to the royal family on behalf of you, so all the court knows you wish their support and grace," Gwynne replied. "What of children milady?" Gwynne asked softly, his hand caressing her cheek gently. Morgan smiled, some prey were so predictable. "I am not adverse to them." She answered quietly. "You would give me heirs?" he asked. "I must have children lass," Gwynne told her thoughtfully, Gwynne knew he cared for her. But his heart pulled him in both directions. "I would be honored." She said quietly. "Then we are betrothed," he said, moving to kiss her passionately. It would be wonderful bedding Morgan whenever he chose, she was beautiful, wealthy. It would be a good match and he could still help Jolene with a job and save her from her father. He didn't expect Jolene to do more than that. She wasn't interested, he had made too many mistakes with her and he had to reserve himself to that reality. Morgan returned his kisses, further pulling the prey into her web of kisses and golden hair. Soon she would have the seer and then she would seek retribution. "The Future" Kingdom of Abertawe Sir Gwynne Hawley Location: Streets of Alban The streets were full of bustling hordes of people, all with nameless faces, bumping Gwynne as he walked along the road. All along the path, oblivious to anyone and everyone. Nameless faces seemed too distant him from the real world and he went into a ponder trance, letting his brain take over the normal functions of moving his legs forward. His mind was someplace else. In his mind's eye he could see Jolene and Morgan's beautiful faces. Their eyes, the pretty alabaster skin, the shapely, beautiful form of their bodies, their voices rang in his ears. It all seemed to sweetly torment him. Gwynne knew that his heart belonged to Jolene, why had he accepted Morgan's proposal? Fear of reprisal if he said no? Did he believe the rumors about Morgan and thus fear what she could do to him if he naysayed her on anything? Gwynne was not a coward. Did he love Morgan? He enjoyed being in bed with Morgan, that was for sure. But each time he thought of Morgan, Jolene's enchanting face flashed in his mind. The vision of true beauty and the wonder of dreams incarnate. All his dreams, all his trials, all his passion was being mingled with his mind and its thoughts. What was he to do? He had to try with Jolene one more time. If she truly, completely wanted nothing to do with him, then he would marry Morgan. He didn't want to be lonely anymore, he wanted a family of his own, an estate and title. All the things he should have had if his brothers had not wronged him and thrown him from his ancestral lands. He had always told himself, "At least your alive ol' boy." But somehow that consolation seemed empty now. But when he saw Jolene's face that consolation renewed in vigor and vitality, for therein was where his heart resided. Her touch softened his heart, it boiled his blood so that his body burned with want and need. But not physical need, it was a need of passion and love. He had been spellbound since he first saw her, and fell in-love with her when he first heard her angelic voice. "One more time," Gwynne muttered to himself. Gwynne did a 180 turn and headed for the marketplace. Once there he bought three dozen red roses, he picked up a beautiful purple cloak and found a copper tiara among the jeweler's items. Then he started back to his second home. He reached the door and hesitated. This was it, this moment determined the rest of his life and how happy he would be. But Gwynne knew that he could not make Jolene love him. But there were few other men who would marry her, she knew that. Gwynne didn't care about the reasons, the rules or any of society's cares. All that mattered was waking up to Jolene's face, being able to hold her and by some wonderful miracle maybe she would bear his children. The dream was kept alive, smoldering, flickering in his heart and his mind. He opened the door, "Jolene? Tis Gwynne, come out lass," he called out to her. The purple cloak, the bundle of red roses and the tiara all in his hand. "Jolene!" he called out again, and waited for her to enter the front living area. His heart beat rapidly as he waited, his breath came in gasps, his hands shook and sweat slowly began to bead upon his forehead. Everything was riding on this next moment. "HEAR YE! HEAR YE! Old man dead in the forest! Spirits have taken him! The Forest is angry!" Overheard from a town cryer in Alban, later documented by Scribe Felix. ************** "Legend of the Herald of Cocidius" By Lancaster Dowell Self proclaimed highwayman and merchant Location: The Forest (outside Alban) What could he say about fools, money and parting? That one could part with the other, or one could keep the other enthralled in it's grasp until he willingly let it go for trinkets and wine? What was it about fools, money, and sweet parting? It was a question that Lancaster Dowell, bandit extraordinaire, wanted to answer some day. In fact, fools and their money was the main staple of his business. He always wondered why there were so many fools in the countryside, waiting... just WAITING... to be robbed by a magnificent bastard such as he. Why was it that some people insisted that they didn't have to throw a canvas tarp over their many goods, to keep them away from thieves prying eyes, to keep them from identifying, categorizing, and determining if the rob was worth his effort. Why was it that some people did not want to take the long and safer way to Alban through the grassy plains and the farmers fields, but instead travel through the dark and danger frought forest? Why was it that people hated the sight of swords... those sharp and pointy weapons to dispatch the life of those who are struck by it? Why were they so scared of them that they themselves would not carry one around inside a dark and dangerous forest? And why did the man pick a mule? Did they not know that a horse was much faster when it came to running? Mules were prone to stubborness (and they couldn't breed, making them next to useless at that) and they couldn't run as fast as a good horse. So in other words, why was this man a fool? The very man whom Lancaster Dowell, the gallant bandit, was spying on from the cover of a leafy oak tree in the middle of the forest. The man held no sword. He had no mercenary brutes to protect his back. His wagon was slow. He was whistling a cocky tune out of his mouth, and he had a cargo of 1270 Pinot Noir wine from the Kingdom of Leoncour in his cart, covered by a measily coating of flax straw. ~"Is he ASKING to be robbed?"~ Lancaster thought to himself. His thief instincts taught him not to go for the too tempting targets. They were either bait to catch stupid thieves with the glitter of future gold in their eyes so bright that it blinded them from common sense, or it was a smaller part of a convoy used to distract thieves who had such a sight for gold that they couldn't see their downfall. He had to be careful with this one. But the cart was just that. A cart, with an old man in his forties whistling a folktale out of his lips, happy to enjoy the sun punching through the forest canopy. Lancaster was tracking this pampered dandy for the past three hours. There were no other bandits, no other convoy carts, and no other mercenaries waiting to jump out and kick his arse from Alban to Saxony. It was so perfect, it brought a tear to his eye. "Oh fortune... how you smile at me. Thank you..." He whispered, blowing a kiss to the heavens. It was his day to cash in on what was rightfully his. According to his logic, everything was rightfully his as long as he wanted it. The time to act was now. He jumped out of the low hanging trees, landing in a crouch in front of the mule drawn wagon. "LIAM! HALT" The owner of the cart called. The mule snorted and complained of the new intrusion in the forest, but all Lancaster Dowell did was stroke the mule's brown muzzle, calming the beast down. "Praytell, who are you, and what is the meaning of this intrusion?" The old man stammered, startled by Lancaster's dramatic appearance. He made the sign of the cross of the one god to protect himself. Gallantly, Lancaster stood up to the oldster, a mere foot shorter than the old man because of the height of the cart. Lancaster was a sight to behold, a prince among the filthy men and women of the local banditry (or so he thought). He was a handsome rogue in a forest green mask that covered everything on him but his shadowy eyes and his nose and mouth. He was dressed in more forest colored clothes, from his breeches, her jerkin and his boots... they were all leather dyed in forest colors. On his shoulders was a forest cloak, a green cloth that covered his entire body, and was covered with sewed on leaves and branches. "OI! Don't you know a forest spirit when you see one? Ya bloody wanker..." Lancaster played up the voice of an unrefined Saxony grunt, the fiercest and most offended voice he knew, to disguise his real tongue. He didn't really expect himself to be mistake for one of the superstitious people's many folklore monsters, but it was something to work on. And if that didn't work, he always had a few more... simple tricks to try, "I was summonned by Cocidius, god of the forests and the hunt! You must do as I say... or... ummmmm..." He struggled for a way to scare the old man, "...i'lll.... EAT YOUR SOUL!" "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The old man bellowed in fear. The reins on his mule went snap, and cracked on the back of his animal. But the mule didn't move. To be more specific... it did move... towards a tasty lump of grass on the side of the road, "You stupid animal! Go before he eats our souls!" "HAHAHAHAA!" Lancaster chuckled, placing his hands on his hips with audacity and authority, "Even the animals listen to the call of Cocidius! How yeeeeeeeeee..." He dragged it out mockingly, "...are of little faith. And don't say I'd eat the mule's soul! Dear Cocidious... no! Eating an animal's soul is degrading for a herald of the god of the hunt! I'd hate to say it... but it's you that's in danger." "Please... what do you want of me spirit!" The old man was too scared to look beyond the leaves of his cloak to see that he was very much human, and that he was drawing a crossbow on the man as he spoke, "Take my cart, my mule... take my wife and children if that must be, but spare my insigificant life! Please! Give an old man some mercy!" Lancaster was liking this better and better. If he was playing the role of a con-man, he would already have the deed to this poor fool's house, and his wife and children as a trophy. But he was playing the role of a bandit, who in turn was playing the role of a leaf covered forest spirit. He would have to make due with one shipment of wine. "I see you already know what Cocidius wants from you." Lancaster strutted up to the old man, smiling with glimmering white teeth and staring down with predatory, intimidating eyes, "Good man. If you don't mind telling me where you're from, do you good bloke?" "Noinini... please don't hurt me..." The old man sobbed. "Noinini..." Lancaster rolled the name around on his tongue. He heard of the village on the edge of Abertawe, though not exactly where. He was only in Abertawe for the past three weeks, and that didn't leave much time for him to scout out the area thoroughly, "I see... that's why me master Cocidius sent me. You people haven't been PAYING YOUR TITHES TO HIM, HAVE YEE?!??!?!" "Tithes?!?!? What Tithes?!?!" The old man asked frantically. "Oh... that's bloody well right... you don't know because you haven't been loyal to the old Gods now, have ye?" The bandit chuckled, "Well then... I guess it's my time to collect, am I correct?" "Yes... if that's what is needed, so be it..." Wimpered the old man. "Very good then. This wine will be great for nourishing the... tree of life. Consider it your village tithe to the old gods. And if we catch you trying to shortchange us, you disloyal little worm... you know what we will bloody well do, won't you?" The old man looked at him with confusion, "What does the herald of Cocidius mean, great spirit?" "You don't know the standard punishment of the people when they don't pay their sacrifices? By the old gods, your blood has run thin while your brain has gone thick! You don't know about the forest who encroaches on your farmlands? You don't know about the roots uprooting the foundations of your homes? You don't know about the animals that come out and steal your children at night, and come to gore and BITE and KILL everyone else come the morn? Bloody hell, you people are screwed..." During the middle of tirade, the old man clutched at his heart. He was bellowing repentantly at the heavens, begging for mercy from the 'darn aweful pain in his chest'. At first, Lancaster doubted it all and laughed. It was a common trick to fake death to prevent a bandit from stealing, but he was a bandit that did steal from the dead. He would steal the silver pennies from a person's eyes if he had to, so that old trick didn't work. But something was different... "...so help you, by the old gods, this tithe is not good enough! OI! We'll have your bloody arse beaten and stuck with man meat for this!" Lancaster was enjoying himself in the scaring of an old man. The man seized up, his hand firmly stuck to his chest. He breathed his last begging breath for the old god to save him. And it was then that Lancaster's flawless performance was put to a close. The old man fell off his cart, and died. "Thunder, lightning... the old gods are mad at you and Noinini! You will all die unless you give every... hello?" The old man could only stare at the stars with his silver penny filled eyes. Lancaster strapped his crossbow to his back, and withdrew his sword from his scabbard. He gave the corpse an experimental prod. He prodded harder, and even drew a bead of blood cutting the old man's cheek. It was quite clear that the old man was very... very... dead. "Bloody hell. Fortune's a whore today!" Lancaster cursed, but was secretly thankful. He could have conned the old man after all, like so many times before. Find a local god, come up to the person wearing the god's garb, then scare the bejesus out of them and demand tithes. And when the whole village was into it... there would be plenty of good to collect. But now the old man, the messanger to Cocidius's violent message, was deader than shortsword. He looked inside the cart. The wine was still intact. The mule Liam was still calm. And it was late afternoon. Just enough time to change out of his clothes, put on his merchant wear, and go to Alban to sell the wine. Overall, it wasn't a total loss. "Oh well... take what I can get." He justified. "Liam! HO!" He snapped the reins. The mule complied and trotted down the trail, straight for Alban to sell his misbegotten wares, and leaving the heart attack stricken man dead and alone on the road, minus his pouch of gold. An Old Reunion Iorwerth ap Greidawl - Lord Bromlin ap Denovin - Arianna's Mentor/NPC Iorwerth had sent one of his squires to his old friend Bromlin. He hadn't seen his friend in many years. Not after the old warrior retired to his own estates. And it would be good to see an old friend again, too many of his generation were dead. And sometimes he felt out of place at his son's court. The squire arrived at the castle of Sir Bromlin late at night. Because the Duke had said it was urgent, he demanded to see the lord at once. The butler was not pleased with having to wake his master up so late, but he wasn't about to deny a Duke's request. Moments later, Bromlin walked into his study where the squire was waiting. The Squire bowed respectfully. "My lord, his grace Duke Iorwerth would like your presence at court as soon as possible." "Ahhh," Bromlin said with a smile, "my young apprentice has made an impact on my old friend Iorwerth. Things are going well then. Leave here and tell your lord my carriage will be leaving first thing in the morning." Bromlin turned and left before the squire could finish his bow. He found his butler just outside of the study. "Paign, are my thinks packed as I had told you a month ago?" Bromlin asked but knew the answer and kept talking as Paign shook his head yes, "place everything in the carriage and have it ready for me before dawn. I expect you to wake me before dawn so that I may bathe and be presentable for my old friend." Bromlin then went up the stairs to retire back to his room. He was anxious to step back into court. He missed the excitement it had to offer. A few days passed and Bromin's carriage was pulling up to the king's gate. He assumed Iorwerth would be there to greet him as he sent a page earlier to state his arrival. Sure enough, as the carriage came to a halt. His old friend stood out front with a smile on his face. Bromlin quickly noted the youth that surround the area and felt old as he looked upon his friend's aged face. "I see time has not done either of us any justice Lord Iorwerth, but I am happy to see an old friend again." Bromlin said with a smile as his driver aided him out of the carriage. "Bromlin, you old scoundrel!" Iorwerth said with a laugh and embraced his friend. "It's been too long since you visited here. I missed you. Come inside, I have some wine ready for us." "Ah yes, dear Iorwerth, it has been too long," Iorwerth kept his health up, Bromlin noted. That much could not be said for Bromlin who seemed the much older man of the two. Iorwerth could tell as well and aided his old friend inside. "You must be wondering why I asked you to come. It is always good to see you, but I have also asked you, because I want to know more about Little Arianna." He smiled. "She is a special girl." Bromlin laughed, "I don't know if I would say special is the right word. She is a man by all accounts save that the gods held a smile as they made her a woman. In all my years, I have never met a woman like her… beauty and passion. I am not one to accept women as knights, you know, but I believe she will be one of Abertawe's best!" Bromlin was obviously fluffing up his apprentice. "I don't know what she has done with you, bewitched you or something." He shook his Head as he led his old friend into his rooms. "Have something to drink, and take a seat." The general fetched the wine himself. "You and I both know that a battlefield is not a place for a woman. How ever good she is. Now I am training her myself, but she has also agreed to me finding her a suitable husband." He turned to his friend. "To do that I need to know who her parents are, it would be in her best interest if you told me." "I would have believed that the battlefield was no place for a lady, but her training has proven otherwise to me. I am still not willing to accept most women wearing armor, but Arianna is different. Her skills are matched to the best of warriors. Especially her use of the bow. She has deadlier aim than any I've met." Bromlin accepted Iorwerth drink and took a sip before continuing. "Now, as for her parents, all I know about is her foster parents specifically Sir Arvel. Strange enough, though, Arvel told her he was a soldier. He never mentioned to her that he was a knight of Abertawe. She still does not know." Bromlin held his best court face. He was a master in the political arena. Iorwerth was not, but he knew that his friend Bromlin was a good politician. "I think I remember him vaguely. He was a good soldier, a steady man. Why would he take her in? Why did you train her. I have the feeling that there is something you are not telling me." He leaned closer to his friend. "You know me, what I do I do in her best interest. So if there is anything more you know, please tell me." The Duke hesitated for a moment. "She might have a very bright future ahead of her." Bromlin laughed, "There is more to the story old friend, but I've been out of the political game far too long to know how to play it again." Bromlin took another sip of his wine. "Arvel was hurt and his leg didn't function very well after that. He was placed in charge of new recruits in the militia, maybe that is why he called himself a soldier, I don't know. Anyways, he fell in love and married one of the court nurses and they retired to Evandler. Arvel was great friends with Forimor, the old High Knight of Wind. Arvel sent Arianna to Forimor to squire her. Forimor and I are friends and he asked me to teach Arianna etiquette and the formalities of court. That is all I've done. I'm sorry, friend, if you seek more information for I don't know anymore. It took Forimor a bit of pleading before I would even agree to aid in her training, but Arianna is a bright star in the moonlit sky and I believe she will do well here." Bromlin was enjoying this quite well. "You could possibly talk with Forimor, but we talk a lot and I do not believe he'll have any more information for you than I have just shared." Bromlin looked at Iorwerth quizzically, "you have taken a great interest in her. Don't tell me that you also see potential in her as a knight? It's hard to admit isn't it?" Bromlin saw this as the opportunity to change the topic knowing Iorwerth's disposition on women and the military. "I would see potential in her if she was a man. She is very good. But I do not think she would be happy. What that girl needs is a good husband, and I intend to find her one. I have taken her under my wing now, and I am finishing the education that you begun." Iorwerth smiled. "Well, than I am happy to find that she is doing well in the capitol and especially happy that she has found new tutelage under your watchful eye, old friend." Bromlin was happy to see that Arianna was well on her way towards her revenge, a revenge that would bring down the house of an old enemy. Bromlin smiled as things were going so well. Arianna had even surprised Bromlin a bit by gaining the unknowing aid of Lord Iorwerth. "Come, my good friend, let us walk the castle for a while and reminisce on old times." Bromlin was eager to hear about all that had occurred over the last five years since his departure. OOC >> Forimor lives in the same town as Bromlin. He truly won't have a clue as to what is going on. Bromlin brought Arianna to Forimor claiming that she came into town to find and squire by him. Forimor believes that the stepfather, his old friend Arvel, really did send her. For game play, speaking to him wouldn't hurt things a bit. For expediency, going to the family would be quicker. It truly is up to you which route you would prefer as I am not sure if there are other JPs you wish to partake in and how long you wish to stay on my story. As for this post, you can round it out and send it in unless there is something else you wish to try and find out from Bromlin. Iorwerth agreed. It wasn't every day that he had the opportunity to talk with an old friend. "Let's do that," he said and the two spent the day speaking on old times. "Errands" Kingdom Of Abertawe Lord Iorwerth Sir Gwynne Hawley- Crest of Topaz Location: the Caer of Alban Iorwerth decided that he wanted to know more about Arianna's past. If you were to find a good husband for the girl, he had to know exactly who her parents were. And he needed somebody to talk to Her foster parents, it was too far for him to go himself. Until he knew exactly how his son was, Iorwerth didn't want to leave court. So he sent some of his servants to find sir Gwynne for him. One of the few knights that was still at court. He would ask that young man to visit the foster parents for him. Gwynne arrived in the presence of Lord Iorwerth, bowing and kneeling before the man, "I am at your service milord," Gwynne greeted the man. "My lord." Iorwerth said. "I do not believe we have met yet. And I am sorry but I do not have much time for you. I believe you are familiar with the lady Arianna?" Gwynne studied the man, he appreciated that the man was blunt, but why be so rude as to not have enough time for him? Gwynne shrugged it off, "Yes milord I helped train her for the knighthood and tested her as well. On my recommendation she has been made a knight, unofficially. King Gwalchmai needs to knight her still, she is a very sweet and kind young woman as well as very pretty," Gwynne smiled. Iorwerth looked at him as if he had said something dirty. "You supported her in this! My God man, she is a woman. She should be protected, and cared for, not risk her life on a battlefield." "I believe that women are valuable in all walks of life milord, they are strong in mind, if not body and they have contributions to make anywhere they feel needed. Respect comes in all forms milord. I can still protect her if need be, but she is good with sword and even better with bow," Gwynne smiled graciously at the old general. "She is under my protection now. And I need to know more about her background. She doesn't know who her real parents are, and I would like you to travel to her foster parents and see if you can find out anything more. They might be reluctant to tell, so please use your charisma." The old general said. "Aye milord, do you know where her foster parents live?" Gwynne asked. The old general told him. "It shouldn't take you more than a day to get there, I think." "I will need detailed directions milord, and their names and I will find out all I can. Is there anything in particular that you wish to know milord?" Gwynne asked, knowing that the man might have had something he truly wanted known about Arianna. "I want to know who her true parents are. It is important to know, when I find a suitable match for her." An idea was beginning to form in his head, one he did not want to share before he knew the girls parentage. But he hoped that it was high, that would make him a very happy man. "One of my servants can give you directions." He looked at the young man. "I really appreciate you doing this, my lord." "I understand completely. I will find out all of the pertinent information on the young Dame your grace. I should keep this secret from her milord?" Gwynne asked politely. "For now, yes. I think that is better. Share this information only with me." The Duke said. "Yes your grace, then I shall take my leave and start the journey at once," Gwynne bowed as a knight did to the royalty they served and waited to be excused. This would make things difficult between him and Morgan and their plans. Then Gwynne turned to Iorwerth, "Milord one more thing if I may?" Gwynne asked. "Of course," Iorwerth answered. "This may seem like a bad time your grace. But I have grown quite fond of Princess Rowena and would like to take her out on a picnic, I mean that as a friend. I do not mean romantically. I protect her, sworn my life to keep her alive, and have already protected her several times. I just wish to spend some time with her, she is a delightful child," Gwynne asked courteously. "You mean when you get back?" Iorwerth said. "I am not sure, my lord. I prefer to keep my daughter close. I will think about it, and let you know when you get back." "Yes milord, I swear to you she is safe with me. She is a sweet lass and we have become quite good friends. I go to her room and tell her exciting stories from far away places. She is a delightful child and I enjoy her company," Gwynne replied with a polite smile. "I will let you know." Iorwerth said, he would check this story with his daughter first. Because at the moment he was very cautious with her safety. "Anything else?" "No your grace, I will need a day to prepare for the trip. I will report to you immediately on my return," Gwynne bowed gracefully to the Duke and waited to be excused then backed out of the room, he never turned his back on the man. Iorwerth watched him go, glad that things were in motion. There was a mystery here, and he was determined to find it out. "A Friendly Hello" Arianna ui Llewellyn - Knight Isa ferch Gudrun - The Queen Mother Isa was tired. But she felt good as well, she was getting back in the flow of things. She had talked to Alterian for hours today, being updated about the political situation. She had talked to her husband only briefly today. He looked to be in better spirits than he had been lately. When she had asked