Of Birthdays and Gifts_The King of the South: the Lord of Lies

LI. Two days passed whole from morrow to eve and then another day in half, until Elbracht came down again from his tower to meet with all of his guests at luncheon. The banquet hall had become too small for their number, so they gathered in the great hall. There were many formalities and conversation shared in an elegant manner between the noblemen and patriarchs but Elbracht hushed all topics referring to slavery, for it only reminded him of his present struggle. The lord of Ceor wished only to speak of the weddings and their preparations, and still there was some concern that they would be set about Elbracht’s birthday; the second of the last month. Lady Aveline the Root and The Most Reverend Samwell thought, the day would be too grim to match the matrimonies since it was also the anniversary of the Red Day—the Temple of Neldor’s fire—sir Estewan took it as an omen that the Temple had to be rebuilt and lord Hadril only brewed this superstition. Elbracht did not trouble himself with such a sign of fate, but deemed it best for the ceremonies to be held after his birthday. The Enimére was also against this, for the later days belonged to the festivity of Elsarmas, the winter solstice, which ranges from the tenth to the twenty-second of the last month. The year’s last hallow days were not to be the time of marriages, since it went against tradition.

Like the Enimére, the Sovarós did not prefer the marriages to be held anywhere in or round that time; in fact they were against it, for they would not be about Ceor for the holidays. The House of the Griffin had a long standing custom of spending Elsarmas in the old city of Nalas*(1), moreover, they had expected to see the lady Alyse already wed by that time, and were ready to invite lord Elbracht to join him there for the festivities. There was also the idea of marrying the brides and grooms in the first month of the year next (1717) but the chances for all the great houses to be in the same place for the celebration of the unions were rare and the lords of the Realm could not extend their stay for longer than six months outside their fiefs. The complication prolonged for the days to come until the last days of the eleventh month and time grew too pressing.

The lords of the houses thus convened that the weddings should be celebrated right after Elbracht’s birthday, just before the first day of Elsarmas—about the fifth of the last month. In the meantime, the princes and their families lived under the same roof, until another matter entertained their mouths. A rumour had climbed the steps of classes in Ceor and travelled from the mouth of merchants to the ears of peers; it appeared that some band of queer small folks had formed an independent commune beneath the shades of the forest near the Oenic Glade, north-east to the town of Bocra, menacing the farers from Fyore, especially the wealthy traders from the north that handled with metals and precious ores. Soon all that people talked about was of the Wood-dwarves’ mischief in the roads. “Dwarves in the Woods?” were often the words heard in the markets, usually followed by a strange bewilderment, for it was known that dwarves are no friends of trees and glades, but of dark caves of the world underground far away beneath the shadows of stone. Nevertheless, in need of home, the dwarves took up residence in the smaller parts of the Oenidwood, which was thenceforth called by scribes and cartographers as The Dwarfwood.

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The Red Birthday

LII. The account of many concur that the first half of the day went on peacefully until after noon, and the other half of the day, on which this fewer accounts exist, the prince told Asadue the next day—it is in the memoirs of the latter that this tale is conveyed. After a long warm autumn, the winds of winter finally blew south and the clear firmament of Harador was shrouded with clouds and mists, but no snows had ever reached the Southlands before, this time was no different. The city of Ceor was colder than usual; still, people wore summer clothes fair with pride, daring the wintry breeze and haze. In contrast, in court, the noblemen stuck to tradition so they bore cloaks of black and brown, but not lady Aveline, who kept her raiments green, dark like the Harad-woods. The Sovarós and Durne also changed their colours to the customary darker hues of the wintertide yet the Niensor had no need of that since they had come to the Haradese capital already displaying their hiemal clothing.

In these new colours, the court went up their way to the High Hill to celebrate the service of Elbracht’s nameday. There the city’s Numére gave up his cathedra to the T.M.R. Samwell and his monks, who scented the altar with myrrh incenses, lit cierges bright, dressed the Adoratorium*(2) and Contemplatorium*(3) with red carpets and golden tapestries, and raised the emblems of the faith in banners ever high. The service was solemn yet merry and the Dinéres (deacons) sang with voices deep holy chants that taled of the books of Nahas and the gospels of Belyus and Pacyus. Among the hymns was also incanted the Felix’ce Bórano Alcadarém (Happy Be He, Born To This World!)—a hallow song for the milestone man, this once reversed with the name of Elbracht:

Felix’ce bóreno Alcadarém

Quo Tomfrícus Elbráchum nomené!

Ut patreí e domeí felix’cede,

Ná Eím Qruz fairhém vocantis!

O sagra Qruz chronicvum illúvem,

Ehium geluc e precien donáti!

Belyís rexum Keorum borané

Elbrách Elrehéz Keorís dome.

The hymn was ceremonially sung in old Adenaic, which in the common tongue roughly translates to:

Be joyous, thou who art born to this World!

He who was named by Tomfrey Elbracht!

All patriarchs and lords be joyous too!

For the Cross’th called him to the hold.

O hallow Cross in this time give

Him, fortunes, lot and many a gift!

He, who’th born in Hilyum, in Ceor,

Elbracht son of Elreck, of Ceor, the lord.

Not all lords were very comfortable to be in the service, save for those who had taken up homes in Harador, since it was frowned upon in the old kingdoms to praise a peer ruler in this religious manner, however, when duty called them to hail his name in the Sagrary as the hymn finished, all mouths were compelled to bless him. The Enimére Samwell, old with a throaty voice, stood on the Oratorium*(4) and read of the gospel of Jomáh*(5). He gave a sermon on the tales of the first men in the days of yore, when the Elder Ones held dominion over mankind and their struggle as thralls in their homeland. Lord Elbracht was so reminded once more of the history of slavery and a grim shadow sat on his face. The service ended with a prayer of thanks for the new times of prosperity, they lived in. The lords met once more in the castle to eat luncheon and the bards and harpers sang tunes praising the lord of Ceor.

Elbracht’s birthday was not celebrated in a fancy manner, for he wished to spend his new fortune in the more ostentatious weddings still to come. Nevertheless, the palace was filled with jubilant splendour befitting of such a happy anniversary. The noon feast was a happy occasions, the Durne were seen always minding for a delicious meal, delighting themselves with tarts and almond pastries; their perfume was the savoury scent of their immense appetite or else the bouquet of their unsatiable winethirst. Lady Gellen did not share in his father’s hunger, for her mood had grown sour and gloomy like a candle unlit, whereas lady Carall’s face was purple from all she had eaten, and her mouth reeked of the stench of python stew and mutton. Whenever her mind was not set to the meals on the table, she exhaled her mouthy odour to the noses of all, always looking for sir Memlafar among the noblemen in court. The Sovarós kept to themselves, saving their words only to Elbracht, his mother or the gallant agents of Neldor, sir Estewan and sir Felyx. Lord Senthaig did not enjoy the chatters of his peers and was as a silent stone in court, but not his daughter of Ravenhair, who often spoke of fair things with a dulcet tongue, melodic as the wind. Alluring, she approached the lord of Ceor like a breeze on the meadows and whispered to him sweet memories of her land far north and of tales of old to mellow his ear. For a moment the shadow on Elbracht’s eyes seemed to have been lifted and a smile was cracked open on his limestone face. With lady Jessa by his side the Red Day turned into a truly joyous day; they conversed for a long while, well pass luncheon and tea time. Laughter and guffaw was all about them, but their joy also passed, as the lady Alyse jumped in to remind him who was his real bride.

-“My betrothed,” said she of golden curls “No doubts this is a blessed day in the honour of your name. Yet I think it best, for us to spend more time together and let the peoples see the good tidings and health of our union.” But the Ravehair, muttering no more, opened her red lips with a fiery tongue.

-“Off with you woman” she said and Elbracht idled with ale and wine could do little else than laugh, “See you not, you bore his lordship? Do us all a favour and part to the Griff-eyrie whence you came.”

-“Thou dost not get to tell me whither to go neither what to do, Northern Crow!” raged the lady Alyes, red of wrath.

-“Hush now, Goldy-locks my dear, there is no need to lose courtesy here,” said Elbracht to the Bravegriff, “you’ll have a lifetime to bore me. Give me just a moment or two of joy with my Ravenhair ere the death of my freedom. And mind your tongue when you speak to the strong Daughter of the North.” Alyse’s red turned to scarlet.

-“Strong?” mumbled she, “‘Tis I who wield the sword, ‘tis I who am strong, whereas she hath no love for brawl and is feeble as herb; if any one deserves your praise, ‘tis I my lord.”

-“Ney, not a herb” said he, “A flower perhaps, and not feeble but taugh as a pansy, daring valiant the winter snows”

-“And still, when winter passes, a pansy withers in the face of summer, while I am born in the fairer lands of Thindur, and can withstand both the hot and cold. She will wither too in hither lands. If you take her hand instead of mine, she will melt in the heat of the South.”

-“Speak not of such sorry things in my birthday” said Elbracht with an ardent tongue, “Leave us now, if you haven’t merrier things to say; do not cast your shade on the guise of my Violet Pansy.”

With temper untamed, lady Alyse left the couple to themselves and rushed away to her chambers with a heart so fell that could no longer stand the laughter of the fest. Yet soon another maid took her place, one of an ampler guise and horrid appetite.

-“Not the Fat Lady!” said the lord of Ceor, drowning his manners with wine.

-“I shall forget that you said such a thing” said the lady Carall with a firm face, “for it worries me not what your quarrel with lady Alyse may be. I only care to know of the whereabouts of my betrothed; I’ve looked for sir Memlafar in every corner, going thither and hither with no sign of him. No one seems to have seen him and I worry he will not be here for our nuptials.”

Trying his best to not picture that scene, lord Elbracht reassuring attempted to quell her distress by saying,

-“Worry not for the fair brother,” he said “he must be in his chambers or else minding for some ale to forget he’ll have to share a bed with you.”

-“I beg your pardon, my lord!” said the offended Carall, lady Jessa was just as stunned.

-“Why so dismay, O why such a fuss?” replied the Harad-lion, with a tamed roar “You know I say what mean and only what is in everyone’s mind. Your hunger is grotesque; I only worry that you’ll eat my brother whole and alive once his hand is yours.”

Elbracht later told Asadue that upon having said this, the shadow of his father had gloomed all about him, and it seemed to him that he had filled his chair; the banquet and all brought him thus memories of Elreck’s Welcoming Feast not long ago. He saw his cup with suspicion fearing it might be poisoned as his father’s had been and threw away the wine with the eyes and look of a mad man, yet he did not see he had tossed his maroon liquor on the Fat Lady’s rainments. The obese lady Durne choleric in offense yelled at the prince in a creaking voice, “Shame on thee, shame I say, wild beast! Thou, groping Southling! Get me my man, he who hath better manners than thee.” and stormed out of the hall. Her cry, however, hushed the laughter in the chamber and all noblemen shared quaint looks yet not lord Horoglas who was wroth with red; in his eyes there was fury that outmatched his ravenousness. His voice was as heavy as the quake of his pace and he went straight to Elbracht fast like bolt, loud as thunder.

-“You may wish to lower yourself to the ranks of servants and slaves, or else elevate your name to the halls of legends and gods, but you do not get to insult my little pie! You refused to marry any of my daughters either out of despise for me or on the memory of our previous feud. But by the Hallow Cross, I will smash you like a tart and swallow you whole if you speak to my daughter in that manner again. O yes, I heard it all; I am neither blind nor deaf to your troubled qualm neither to your devious handlings in court! If you wish to make peace with me now or any time nigh, you will fetch your adorbs brother and thrust him to my daughter’s plate, for that is all she craves, and by the Gods, I will sate her appetite!”

-“You do not get to yell at me in my own house!” raged out Elbracht with a wrath greater still. “I will bring you my brother if that you wish, but keep your mouth and tongue to meals if you have no better words for me to spare! Damn you all, this is my birthday! I will have joy and laughter or else naught in my halls today.”

Uttering nothing else, the son of Elreck left the chamber. So it was the lady Aveline, who had to keep the peace in the hall thereafter, and her mouth could be just as ardous as her son’s but soothing too to calm the mood in court. She managed on her own to restore harmony among the lords, yet the Durne kept their words to themselves and did not dare to tease the temper of the powerful lady Root. In the meanwhile, Elbracht sought for Memlafar in his tower, in the courtyard, in the gardens and halls of the castle, in the kitchens and armoury, until there was nowhere else to look for him. He asked his pages to search for him in the city, in every house and every corner of Ceor, whilst he despaired in the thought of Memlafar going missing.

Fearing the lost of yet another brother, lord Elbracht went to the outer bailey, took a saddle and had a horse fetched for him, and arming himself with Oakenjaw, he readied himself to part out into the country for his brother. Behind him came rushing in the lady Gellen, carrying a sword and bearing a coat of mail of Nurgiron, her figure was svelt like a treetrunk yet fair and tall like a sunflower. She was quick enough to halt the lord of Ceor’s gallop ere he was beyond voice’s reach. She did not come on her sire’s behest yet had the guise and demeanour of a Durne, truer to the name than the lord of that house.

-“Stop, my lord, I beg you” said she, “I do not doubt you wish to part alone, and I have not come to compel you back, but to offer my aid in the persuiance of your brother, sir Memlafar.”

It seemed to Elbracht that her words were sincere, yet had no wish to put the lady in needless danger “I needn’t your aid, my lady. Noble as it might be, I do not wish to put you in harm’s way.”

-“Do not suppose the women of Savony don’t know how to wield a blade, I am just as capable as any man to fight his own wars. But I assure you, my intentions are the same as yours; I have grown very fond of sir Memlafar and wish to test my spirit and strength in seeking him.”

-“Very well, do as you must” he said, “but I cannot guarantee your safety, the meadows and woods, though peaceful in the summer, turn to a wild country in the winter.” and still she did not care, for once her heart was set to something, little could the words of men do to sway her against it.

The woman fetched herself a grey horse and both rode out into the wild with rising haste. Their pace was swift and the shadows of thick cloads shaded the path behind them. It was well pass noon but the weather was unforgiving in the dark season, so the heavens soon wept over their trek, and yet the dim daylight kept the fields clear to the eye. They cantered by the copses and thickets, where Memlafar’s song rang still beneath branch and twigs like an old but undwindled echoe from the autumn passed, and it was there that Elbracht thought of their little venture, their jaunt on the slopes and meadows as well as their lovely stay in the lonely cottage and lo! The lord of Ceor knew at last where his brother could be, the only place on earth he had ever felt at home.

Presently, lord Elbracht told lady Gellen of his brother’s grief, of the day they had riden out to bless the woods with his fairy tune, and of how they had escaped just in time a storm in the farm of the old Gilly; lady Gellen was pleased to know of Memlafar’s heart was a humble one and longed only for a modest life, for her heart was there too, and had no love for aristocratic fas. More eager than ever to set her eyes on her beloved knight, she galloped behind Elbracht on their way north, and not after long, they came about the lonely cottage. There they knocked at the door and none other than the stout and long bearded Gilly opened it.

-“Sir John!” he said, with the usual tone and manners, “‘tis been long since you’ve last been to these parts, I was beginning to wonder what had become of you—and that’s a lot to say, coming from me. But, pray, who is this fair maiden you come with?”

-“This is lady Gellen of Villadel” said he astounding himself to know he did not have time to come up with another name to hide her identity,

-“O, m’lady, you are very welcome!” he said, bowing his head down to his knees, but lady Gellen remained silent. “You honour me with your presence, sir, yet your brother didn’t tell me you’d follow him here. Had I know you’d come, I’d have told Judis to make you a nice supper.”

-“We have no need for meals, goodhusband Gilly. It is my brother who I am after. Tell me has sir Memlafar the fair come hither?” In the haste, lord Elbracht forgot that was not the name he had known him by.

-“The fair? Sir Memlafar? Nay, I do not know of whom you speak. Only master Will has been to these parts.”

-“‘Tis he, whom I mean, my brother, sir Memlafar, is the one you know as master Will” said the lord of Ceor, having no time to explain himself.

-“So, thou’st been lying to me!” raged the farmer, “I welcome thee to me home, feed thee, give thee shelter for the when the night was darkest and thou darest lie to me face, how shameful of thee!”

-“Mind your tongue, peasant!” lady Gellen said imposingly “You should bow to your suzerain, for you stand before Elbracht, son of Elreck, lord of Ceor and of you!”

Gilly’s eyes turned white and his face went pale all of a sudden, so he abased his head to the ground asking lord Elbracht for forgiveness.

-“Damn be me name!” he said “Damn be me line and me children yet to come, for I have dishonoured you in this grave hour. I should have known better. Prithee forgive the bad manners of this old man, m’lord.”

-“Enough of that, goodhusband Gilly, I have no time for your curtsy and plea. Tell me, where is my brother?”

-“Master Will… that is sir Memlafar the gallant hath gone into the village with me in-law, Marren. I beg of you, m’lord, forgive him too for not knowing better; he’s been a son to me and I don’t count with many hands to aid me in me farm.”

-“All is forgiven, goodhusband Gilly,” said the lord, “Be in peace. But now I must leave. Do you know where I might find him, once I get to the village?”

-“Gods bless you, m’lord. You are ever welcome, should you wish to return. As for you brother, I sent me lad, Marren, to the village to sell me best cattle, and sir Memlafar went with him. If you see him, m’lord bid him to return his sires’ armour for it took it from the dining room some time ago and I fear he may get some taints on it by bribing back his old post as watcher, the young lad is a dreamer and mayhaps his trying to get some new use to it.”

-“If I see him, I will tell him. I would be grateful for your discretion, goodhusband.” said Elbracht restoring his good mood, “give my blessings and gratitude to the goodwife Judis for all she has done for my brother and me so far. Farewell!”

-“Hail Elbracht, lord of Ceor!” said Gilly at last on his feet, “farewell, m’lord.”

Lord Elbracht came to deeply regret the hour of this meeting, for having disclosed his real name and identity removed the shroud of humbleness that was about him. In his heart—though perhaps not as much as his brother—Elbracht enjoyed his time with Gilly’s family and the warmth and modesty of the lonely cottage, which enclosed a magic of a kind that was unkown to him; the magic of a simple life. In another time, Elbracht did return to the cottage and Gilly and Judis welcomed him with a gracious honour, doing their best for it to befit his style and rank, but the magic was no longer there; it fainted away with the death of sir John and master Will.

The lord of Ceor and lady Gellen rode forth the lane north and within the hour, they came about a village among green wolds and pastures that stretched outwards yond the eyes; there the path was smoother and stoney and the head of small abodes popped out from behind the slopes and banks distant. Soon more houses were on sight and later hedges and ancient priors modest but fair, and varied in colour and tones; some were wheat others blush and a few ones linen-white. The roofs were distinct aswell; most were of thatch, some of wood shake and the richer ones of clay tiles, but they all shared a common soul that cried out the spirit of magic that before Elbracht had only felt in the lonely cottage. The trek became a little wider and presently they were sourrounded by buildings left and right that hid the lanscapes all round. There they saw a pine-green gateway sign that read in words red:

Ye Strange Farers

are come to Corfáir

Quite an odd sign it was, for all outsiders were stranger to these folks, and no one was welcome if not in the company of one of their own. The name of the village was Corfáir—which in the common tongue means Heartfield—and the name only seemed to suit the hamlet. There were a few dwellings that were four stories high, and yet aside from them only a small church appeared tall enough to crape the leaden sky. On the lane and in the market later, Elbracht saw headless chicks wandering about and two tailed pigs rushing after them ‘so they weren’t nonsense after all’ the prince told Asadue later the day next. The villagers too shared in the quaintness of that place, and there was joy and tranquillity painted all on their faces. There was laughter and bliss unbecoming of winter heard in the ambience and safe for a few groans and reproachful wails on matters low and trivial, it seemed the feuds of lords were far too remote for them to bebother and there was little care for the fuss of the big city, which was altogether foreign to the spirit of Corfáir. The alien lord and lady were frowned upon by the farmers and peasants at their arrival, for their rich likenesses were not known to those parts and besides the major, none wore clothes of such expensive finery. Their horses stopped by the market, where they inquired about the sir Memlafar, never telling his name, and only caring to tell of a good description, but all to whom they spoke had no words for them; they looked at them like outlanders and neither their noble demeanour nor their fancy clothes swayed their tongues into speaking. Then they saw an inn which had no name other than a sign wrote on its wall reading “Ye Olde Tankard” and thither all villagers made their way in calmed pace with the waning of daylight, and the older folks shared queer looks upon sighting the two noble fairers, Elbracht went inside and hoped to get better manners therein.

Once there no man or woman took noticed of them nor did they care to ask for their business or their names. The dim light of candles lit the many singular faces of the merry Corfáireans and the smell of ale, bread and pipe-weed perfumed the air. Elbracht tried to find the taverner of the inn, for he knew that among the smallfolk none could say more about the comings and goings of strange travellers better than he who sells them beer and food in their journeys. He sought for him among the villagers, but it was hard to say who had the aspect of an innkeeper. There was an open bar with barrels of wine and ale at one end of the tavern and everyone poured the liquors freely into their mugs and steins. He saw many people gathered by that end and every type was more interestings than the next, some where plain and ugly, others proud and handsome yet most were very plithe. After a while searching, Elbracht was overcome by a great drouth and the quaffing and gulping of all only seem to further tease his thirst. So he picked up a garnished tankard from a sheft and poured himself some ale; he was still distraught by the missing of his brother, but it was his birthday after all, so he swallowed the ale whole and it tasted so exquisitely flavoursome that he filled up his flagon once and twice thereafter. To not forget his manners, he offered lady Gellen a sip from his drink, and he was thankful that the maiden had no thirst, for the ale to him was so luscious and dear that he did not really wished to share it, even when there was a full barrel still undrunk.

Shortly, a tall rude looking man approached the pair; his face was wrinkly and stern and looked insulted, as if he had quarrelled with Elbracht and his family for many a generation.

-“Surely you’ll pay for that, stranger.” he said, “for it is freshly brewed ale from yester eve, what you drink.”

-“I do not see people carrying coins around nor anyone paying for their mugs; why should I do any different?” said Elbracht.

-“Did you not see how I addressed you, Stranger?” said the man now crossedly, “All these people I kenn—the ol’ bag o’er there is miss Heden, the brawny tough man next to her is master Shelby and the lean lad with’em is called Elfric, whereas you, I do not know your name less so what you do here. All villagers can pour themselves as they wish, for one harvests corn for the ale and another raises pigs and chicks for the food I serve; so through fair exchange they have earned their own drink and meal.”

But Elbracht so happened to also know those names, for he had heard of them from the mouth of merry Marren.

-“Well, I’Il surprise you, goodman, for I also know their names and what they do,” said Elbracht boastfully “Master Shelby for instance is a good farmer and yet a quaint one, for his pigs and chicks are very queer truly, Miss Heden is the village’s healer—her herbs and mushrooms are too of some renown—and as for bard Elfric, well, his tunes and tales go without saying. So you see, these people are mine too, as for my contribution it should suffice to say that the village itself is under my protection.”

-“O, so this is your people, that you think? Well, forgive me but this lot is not used to your fancy manners and fine cloths—both of them tell you apart.” the man asked “Are you by any chance the new councilman? Or should you know too of the former’s present predicament?”

-“Of course I am aware of that, also. The poor councilman is been through some scandal of his own, it will be hard for him now to find a good suitor for his disgraced daughter and even more so for the villagers to hear the Numére’s sermons now that we know what he’s been up to.”

The man was shocked upon hearing him, the lady Gellen was bewildered, and for a moment thought that she was in company of a soothsayer, who knew all the names and businesses of the men and women under his lordship; a great respect for him was thus born in her heart. But the chatter was far from over.

-“Well, you may know a greater deal than I thought, but still you are a stranger” said the man, “and I doubt you know apart from such decent folk, the name of the man you talk to.”

At that Elbracht was helpless; Marren had not mentioned the bad manners of such a harsh fellow neither what he was called. Nevertheless, the lord judged that his demeanour and guise were just the traits of the man, he was looking for. “I do not know your name nor how they call you in hither parts, to that I yield,” he said, “But aside from some bad tempered deemer, you must be the taverner, and if that’s so, then you are just the man I have been looking for.”

-“Aye, that I am.” The Innkeeper said, “But I only speak to those whose name I know.”

-“Very well, I am sir John and this fair with me is the maiden Ornele.” said lord Elbracht taking once more on the role of the knight, lest any more fuss could obstruct his way to finding sir Memlafar. “Now that you know my name, there are two matters I need to deal with you. First, I shall tell you my business here. I come from the big city, and I am looking for my brother, master Will, who the goodfarmer Gilly—if that name rings any bells to you—sent hither along his brother-in-law, Marren, to sell cattle in the market. Do you know aught about them or their whereabouts?”

-“The young Marren! He’s a merry lad, but nay… I can’t say where he might be, sir, as for this master Will, I know even less; you should ask about if you have any luck with the villagers, but I doubt they’ll answer back to you. I trust it, you have seen how we react to strangers.” said the taverner, “Now, that I know what your names are, ‘tis only proper that I tell you mine. I am Mister Edric, and if you can forgive my rudeness, then I am at your service and your maid’s” Edric bowed his head to the knight and then went on to ask, “As for your second question, I shall be glad to answer it if I may be of better help there.”

-“O yes, I shouldn’t forget.” said sir John, “Would you care to tell me the name of this delicious ale, for I have never tasted a liquor so exquisite and would like to have some of it in my stores.”

-“Haw Haw! Surely, you don’t mean this bitter poor brewage. ‘tis not our best beer but it suffices for our tongues and sooths them to tell of fairy stories and tales that’ll make for good memories later.”

-“Well, if it isn’t so good to you, don’t you put a price on this next fill, then” Sir John poured himself more ale into the garnished tankard and drank it full in a single gulp until lo! The taverner’s eyes were set on the mug and went white and bleak all of a sudden, then he shouted and all villagers hushed at once, “You daren’t! that’s me sires’ heirloom you bear in hand! Take it back whence you found it at once or else there’ll be trouble coming from me!”

-“You don’t mean this old flagon, do you?” said the prince, “‘Tis pretty, I’ll give you that, but it isn’t more than a fancy mug.”

-“That ain’t some fancy mug, that is me Olde Tunkard, haven’t you read the word’s outside? That’s where the inn’s name comes from and you have tasted its magic already, for lord Urme Elfbane hisself drank from it while feasting on his victory of old ‘gainst the Woodelves, when he passed by these parts long ago. In those days he had a magic with him, and toasting with that same tankard, he blessed the village when it was but a poor forsaken hamlet and declared that even cow piss would taste like glory coming thence. If you aren’t Urme’s scion, no one but a man from me line is worthy to drink from it. Now, put it back!”

Elbracht, idled with that sweet ale, was about to claim his right to use that tankard, but another queer looking man sprang in between him and Edric ready to defend the noble stranger. That man was small, so small the top of his head could not reach Edric’s shoulder and yet was older than both of them combined, old like a tree and yet strong like stone, his beard was long, girded by his belt and still it hung before his knees, he had a long nose like a hook and his dark eyes were somewhere hidden beneath his bushy brows. Elbracht noticed this man was a dwarf and from the looks of him it could only have been Hugh Ironborn. His voice was gruff and groaned deep every time he spoke.

-“Forgive these farers, O dear Edric” he said, “for they are outlanders and do not know our ways. I will answer for them, for I know whom they seek. This must be sir John, and if you kenn Marren the Merry, you should kenn whom he travels with; this man must be master Will’s brother.”

-“I am,” said Elbracht, “and it is him who I am looking for.”

-“I will vouch for them, dear Edric” replied the dwarf turning to the taverner. “And if the lad puts the tankard down now, I assure you there shall be no further fas and we shall speak no more of it.”

-“Very well, marrow Hugh, I will take your word, at least that I trust enough. But there will be no more ale for them under this roof. They may stay until the morrow, for the night grows near, yet no more hospitality shall come hence from me.” The old Edric tugged away the tankard from sir John’s hand, polished it with some cloth and put it back on its shelf. And so the quietness shied away; Master Shelby began to laugh again and the bard Elfric started to sing tunes about Urme’s war and other tales of yore and thus the old village’s bliss came back to life and none took further notice of the farers apart from the dwarf. He led them to his lonely table and gave them simpler mugs to drink ale from; Elbracht noted that the beer had lost its flavour and was indeed like cow piss in his mouth.

-“It won’t taste the same coming from that stein,” said the dwarf, “Urme’s magic might be old and yet is still strong for those who’ve heard the tale.”

-“I see little sense to it, lord Urme was a man just like any other,” said the lady Gellen.

-“And who is this fair youth you come with? I must say it’s an odd thing to see a maiden wearing such a knightly coat, but it’d be untrue to say that glintering mail doth not match the pale of her beauteous face.”

-“This is the fair Ornele and she speaks only the truth, how come it be that the ale had such a splendid savour coming from that tankard though coming from this stein tastes worse than oil?” said Elbracht

-“You see, sir John,” said the dwarf “there is power in the words of man, even when it is only kept in the mind. And when a story is believed good enough it gains a power of its own. It wasn’t Urme’s spell what you tasted, but the power of belief, the mind of these folks has fed. But never mind that, it wasn’t thirst what brought you hither neither the tale of our famous cow-piss-ale.”

-“You are too right.” said Elbracht, “You are too kind to vouch for us at this late hour. I have heard your name and the tales of your lot from the mouth of the merry Marren, and yet I admit I did not believe him, less so all the things I have seen here.”

-“Now, you see, I am as true as bone and flesh. Watcher Marren seldom lies. And though the name of this town has been forgotten to the chronicles and maps, there is great merit to these people, often unseen by the eyes of the proud and wealthy. I have met your brother, master Will, and other than me and him, there have been few outsiders who share in the love for this people, their village and its magic, to that small number my name also counts.”

-“You know my brother?” asked Elbracht

-“Aye… a handsome fellow.” the dwarf said “And his business is mine too, for a few days ago he and the merry Marren bid me to come to discuss the value of some armour; if hers is the one he means, then a long while I must ponder on it for this iron is very precious, not many ores do I know that match its value. Pray, where is the rest of the panoply?”

-“That we do not know, for we have not come on master Marren’s behalf nor do we know his mind, nevertheless this is not his armour so I doubt you’ll have the time to examine it.”

-“That’s a pity, for the looks of it, that coat alone may be dearer than the whole of old Gilly’s farm, and among men many hands must have perished to forge and bend it.”

Presently, the shine of the mail-coat drew the attention of another man; one, who had the semblance of the dwarf—the same brows and nose—but he was taller, and wider and beneath his long trimmed beard he bore a brown coat and leather boots. His bare arms and hirsute shoulders were as thick as his voice.

-“Now, here is a lovely thing, even lovelier than the one who wears it.” said the man, “forgive my bad manners, strangers, my name is Ceolf and I am the village’s blacksmith—my business is with the dwarf, but if that coat is in sale, than prithee stay—at any rate welcome to Corfáir.”

Ceolf took a chair and sat by Hugh, who introduced them to the strangers, the two men shared a few words quiet as the wind on matters yet unknown, but their eyes glimmered everytime they saw the lady’s chain-mail. Ceolf seemed common and yet there was some blackness beneath his brow that hid a secret and his intent, the Ironborn, however, breathed out an air of confidence and kindness that let the lord and lady feel they were in trust-worthy company.

-“So,” said finally the blacksmith, “I am willing to offer you, forty four Crosses for that coat of mail. If you give it to me now, I’ll buy the rest of the canoply for an extra of twenty and two Crosses if you sway Marren to bring it to me tomorrow after noon.” To add some context, the price of ordinary armour by those times was of eleven silver pieces (Crosses), so Ceolf’s willingness to buy the coat for four-fold its price hinted to the value of that rare iron. But Elbracht’s mind was not set on trade.

-“For the second time, I have not come to pact a business with you, nor do I come on Marren’s behest. As I have told Hugh, I am simply looking for my brother.”

-“Are you sure, lad?” Ceolf said, “You won’t get a better offer coming from me, and other smiths we’ll take it for less. If you bargain now, you’ll be a wealthy fellow, by the time you find him.”

-“Believe me, master Ceolf, I have no use for your money. But since you are so interested to bargain, I’ll give you a heavy sum of Crosses if you tell me where he is.”

-“Keep your coins to yourself, sir. I know not where your brother may be, and since I only do honest work, I can’t accept your money. All I know is that he should be here by now, for it is he and master Marren, whom bid me come. Haven’t you asked the Innkeeper already or else any other villager around?”

-“I have tried, but these people are closed as a lock, and since I haven’t the key and am new to these parts, none wish to speak to me.”

-“These people are not accostumed to visitors, and they are in their right to be so, for all strangers who come bring trouble of their own, and the wars have taken many a son and strong man away from their homes. So you see their distrust is well excused.” The dwarf said, “It took me years to gain a smile from these folks, but once you win them over, there is naught on earth these people can’t do for you. Would it that you’d come either with Master Gilly or another known face, you’d be welcome here as if you were the very lords of the land.”

Elbracht held his tongue behind his teeth, and bowed his head to the blacksmith and dwarf; lady Gellen would have preferred not too, but she made the same courtesy after him. Then Elbracht, said “Well, we don’t have a year to get to know these people, and time is pressing, for my brother will marry within the week, so I am to bring him back to Keor. And since you have taken such a liking to this mail-chain, I propose you a bargain. You shall have the coat of mail if you inquire on our behalf about the whereabouts of either my brother or his friend Marren the Merry. Surely, you have these people’s ears, and I will make use of what they know.”

-“Now, that is some honest bargain—an easy one for us—that would otherwise be impossible for you. So, do we agree? Inquiries in exchange for the mail-coat?” Ceolf asked and sir John shook his hand to seal their deal.

And so, the blacksmith Ceolf and the dwarf Hugh went hither and thither in the tavern, going from eye to eye, from ear to ear asking about the fair brother and his merry companion. The dim lit wax candles almost melted away before any one heeded their words with some proper care. Master Shelby was too drunk to put two words together, and the bard Elfric alsways spoke in riddles and rhymes, Miss Heden had a clearer mind, yet she only employed it to talk about her herbs, mushrooms and their pretty prices. It was later in the evening that came to the Inn a certain master Godoy, who was a known merchant in the village, he often travelled from the big city to Corfáir and back again to trade goods and wears from across the Harad-kingdom, and though his prices were not always just, all villagers respected him; Ceolf and Hugh learnt that Marren and Will had met with Godoy in the market earlier that day to sell off Gilly’s best cattle. He told them, after that, they met with master Frann, the owner of the village’s lodge. So following this track, the dwarf and the blacksmith left the inn along with sir John and maid Ornele, to pay a visit to the lodgekeeper.

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The village’s lodges were for outsiders, and yet seldom any farer stayed there, for it was even less welcoming that the Inn; some words were twisted and ripped apart on a half torn sign that read “Ye Passin’ Farers, Hostelry”. The building was of thatched roof and leanen walls and only a single window was lit dim and ocre like withered wheat. Inside they met with Master Frann, a decrepit fellow, who let one eye hung open and scowled the other at the two strangers. He was quieter than a breeze and spoke rarely, when sir John asked about his brother by his description, master Frann did not even breathe, but when the blacksmith approached him and asked him the same question, he muttered in a low voice, “I keep no strangers under this roof unanswered for. Say a name, I may know.” Then Ceolf uttered the name of Marren and just as silently as before he whispered “number nine”. Before venturing into the building’s main corridor, the Hosteller put a few words in the wind and said, “Ye should’ve come an hour later, but I am not to blame for the jolt that comes.”

Leaving his warning unheeded the lord, lady and their companions went straight to room number nine, where a subtle light escaped the keyhole. When the door was opened the candle lights dulled away and still amidst the shadows a bed was seen, lying about were clothes and gear, and by some corner were the plate and breeches of the rusty old armour Elbracht had seen in Gilly’s house. On the bed among the blankets and linen sheets were two men resting as in dreamful sleep in each other’s arms. The two men were Marren the Merry and the fair master Will and their faces were plithe and peaceful, yet the quiet was broken by lady Gellen’s shrieking shock, and the sleeping lads awakened. Hugh and Ceolf stepped aside and the lady Gellen went to shake sir Memlafar by the shoulders, and with tears in her eyes she said, “Why, sir, O why must you betray me in this way? For though were a not bound neither in marriage nor in brotherhood, my soul cried out to yours, and my heart sang the tunes of love with your name. I will not love another man whose name is not yours, and my soul will wither to know that we may never share hands in the same bliss of our sires.” With a sorry heart, the lady left and Elbracht ran after her fearing for her safety, he left the room and far behind him the words were heard “Brother, brother wait!” By the time Elbracht made it outside, the lady Gellen had vanished away and a worrying shade was set in his eyes. Furious, sir John went up back to room number nine and there he raged at his brother,

-“I have lost lady Gellen!” Ceolf and Hugh shared queer looks but Elbracht’s mind was set only on his brother, “Master Ceolf and Master Hugh, I bid you to wait outside, this might not be pretty for your ears.” The blacksmith and dwarf needed no further swaying to leave the room for the tention had grown too uncomfortable in the room. They left the three men and waited outside the building. But Elbracht’s wrath had just begun.

-“Why do you so little care for our family that you shall forsake your duties to the Realm and on my birthday, from all days, you escape the halls of court to the arms of your unvirtuous hide-out and partner to shower shame upon our name and standing. I almost pray, the Gods take lady Gellen to their fold in the wild, would it that it saves us from the humiliation you have bred, and even so I’d be chagrined by the lost of such fair a maiden whilst she was under my care!”

-“Shame?” angried Memlafar out from his bed, “‘tis you who has brought shame and lament to our house; had we come with Carédock instead of forsaking him in the Vultures’ Nest, there’d be peace among us. But you only care for our precious name, not for those who bear it, that is thrice more shameful than any of my deeds. And to save my neck from even more disgraces coming from you, I escaped your city to the one place I have ever felt at home; here in this hamlet where only a few words are given me and some still frown at my face. And yet here would not have been far enough from your vicious grasp, so Marren and I were ready to sell his family’s heirloom, would it that it buy us a life somewhere far off from your oppressing domain, where all men are slaves to your will. You speak of freedom and liberate thousands of thralls in Harador, but those who are closest to you—you fasten our chains and tightened our gags to rule our every move and word. I will no longer go quietly, brother!”

-“I will not let you barren your branch of our oaken tree,” said Elbracht defiantly, “You shall come back with me to Keor, abandon this folly of yours and wed lady Carall—Hell, I even was tempted to secure you Gellen’s hand so thinking you’d be more pleased with her—but now I care little if the Fat Lady eats you alive, you will marry her, and put a child in her womb.”

-“You cannot make me go with you, I am my own man now, and have elected my own fate.”

-“Nay, brother, you are no one’s man” said Elbracht, and he drew out Oakenjaw. “You are mine, and you will do as I command, or else I shall remove the object of your desire. Believe me, I take no pleasure in this, I even promised the Goodhusband Gilly to spare this good lad, and even now I do not blame him for what you did to him. But know, brother, that if you don’t come with me now, you shall seal your lover’s doom and for ever rue this Red Day.”

Memlafar, with mind troubled both by rage and fear, whined and fell to his brother’s knees and begged him to bring no harm upon the Merry Marren. His voice shrieked in agony, the sound of an aching heart, and he cast a fell shadow of anguish all about Elbracht, but he did not lower his sword. Presently, Marren bowed down to his iron hand and he said in a shivering voice, “Do not harm me, sir. I have done naught but loved your brother. I did not wish to take him from you, or cast him out of your will, only to secure for him happiness and bliss. But if you command me to part hence, that I will, and you shan’t see my face neither in Corfáir nor in Keor nor in any city under your grasp.”

-“I am afraid, goodlad, that your fate is not up to you now,” answered Elbracht severely, his steel above his head, “‘Tis yet opt to my brother here what shall befall on you.”

Memlafar, sad to know Marren’s love for him was not worth dying for, swallowed away his pride, amidst his tears and wrath, and staring dead into Elbracht’s red flaring eyes he said, “I will do as you command, but not out of love to you—that has died at this late hour, and there won’t be any more of it for you in my heart—instead I shall choose to please the Root with fruits and twigs of my own branch, and your precious tree will blossom, yet in the misery of those you claim to live for. I shall take my cut of the lamb; do as you would have me do. And still, I will not ease your burden if your shoulders grow too weak; I will not vouch for you if lies should be told of your name; and I will not lift a shield if an arrow comes down your way... When those times come—for they will come—you may bethink this hour and this place, for it shall be you, who’ll rue the Red Day.”

Only too late did Elbracht felt the embrace of his father’s ghost all round him but was so stunned by his brother’s harsh speech to mind the shadow of Elreck and its terrible summoning. Having little else to say, Elbracht sheathed his sword, took Memlafar by the arm and left Marren, no longer Merry, kneeling perplexed on the floor. On his way out, he met again with the hosteller Frann, who minding little for the fuss and noise of what ever had occurred under his roof, asked them to pay for the night in the room. Elbracht paid him handsomely both for the room and his discretion and left the lodge escorting Memlafar. Once outside, the night had grown darkest and though the dwarf had gone out into the outer paths of the village to find the lady and secure her safety, the blacksmith did not move an inch from Elbracht’s horse as an exciseman waiting for what he is due. The younger brother asked for the dwarf and he replied,

-“He’s gone out to try and find your brother’s fair. But I won’t leave until I am paid for my services.” he said now truning to Elbracht, “we stretched hands on an honest bargain, and by the looks of it, though you did not like the outcome, you got what you paid for. So I’ll be paid now, if you don’t mind, sir.”

-“Have you not seen, the fair Ornele is gone? She took with her the mail-coat. How should I give you what I don’t have?”

-“O, but you may give me what you do have, sir.” said Ceolf, “I will take that pretty brand you carry, in exchange for my spent services—‘tis worth even twice the price of that mail-chain and is even more dear to me.”

-“This sword has been with me for years,” answered Elbracht, with a stern look. “Why on earth will I part with a blade that should become a token of my house?”

-“It is of Nurgiron, wrought in the mines of Nurgeth, deep beneath the walls and towers of the fortress of Cigord—that I did not tell the dwarf, for he would have left for those caverns long ago if I had, and I would have no one to share my mind and words with—but it was not forged there, that sword was made in Keor, in the armories of the castle. I know its hilt, its blade, and its name, for I forged it in a previous chapter of my life. That is Oakenjaw, and I know both that name as well as for whom it was made, m’lord.” This he said bowing his head to Elbracht very low, and the lord of Ceor was astonished to know he was the man general Caradon had talked about, all this time living under the very nose of his city. Begging for his discretion Elbracht then said,

-“You are the one they call the Hammer of Cigord!” said Elbracht pacing towards him, “You were the chief blacksmith in the mines. Long have you been sought after, in fear you might go with the knowledge of that ore to other kingdoms, and betray the secret of that iron.”

-“That, I would not have done, m’lord” said he, “for I am a patriot, and love this country as I love that sword. If you give it to me now, I will keep it until you bring me back the mail-chain of that fair maiden, whatsoever her name. When you bring it back, I shall return to you the sword; you seem a man of principle, m’lord, so I trust you will honour our honest agreement.”

Elbracht deemed the man trust-worthy enough and the stories of his name among his generals were well known; it was told that he refused to give up many of his handiworks for his crafty hands were talented in the arts of his profession and more than once did he forged a splendid lance or mighty sword that he wished to keep for himself, relentlessly he would give up all his forgeries to the hands of knights and lords of high names. Elbracht understood very well the value that Oakenjaw had for him, for he too was enamoured of that fair blade. Though, it was the least of his desires to hand it over, he was appealed by a sense of nobility to honour his agreement, so he gave his sword to Ceolf, whom with glaring eyes of adoration for his own works, bowed his head to Elbracht and said “M’lord” once more.

Shortly, he mounted his horse, his brother shadowed behind him, and rode forth the lane south back to his capital. On the way out of the village, amidst the shades of night but lit by some distant sconces, they found the dwarf Hugh—his head bent, his eyes frowned—and he looked up at the lord as he trotted by. Elbracht stooped over him from above his steed and said,

-“Master Hugh, I do not regret the hour of our meeting, in truth, I take great pleasure in your acquaintance. I pray we’ll meet again in the near future. You may yet prove more valuable than any other associate of mine. For now I bless you, you and your kind, till we meet again. Farewell!”

The two brothers rode out back into the countryside and as they rode the dark drew away, the winds turned fairer, and a faint line glew red on the horizon and not after long coloured the skies whole in gold and then icy blue; the shape of wolds and postures was on sight, the green of slopes and banks about them grew bright and soon there were woods and glades all round. And so the Red Day came to an end, and just as many farers had before them, they left the magic of the simpler lives behind, Elbracht had had enough a taste from it, and yet there was a queer longing in his heart to abandon all the fas and stress of Ceor and his kingdom and make the name of sir John his own. But the weight of his family name and the burden of legacy on his shoulders kept him from leaving the oaken tree of his house untended.

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The Birthday gift

LIII. Back in Ceor,on the third day of the last month, Elbracht and Memlafar parted ways as soon as they reached the castle, and the fair brother kept his pace from his senior in the days to come. All the efforts Elbracht had invested in repairing their trust and fraternity were all in vain, and though they would be seen together in public and in court, the two brothers grew to be strangers, sharing with each other little else than a simple courtesy, and the memories of their little ventures to the wild and their time in the lonely cottage went forgotten. As for the lady Gellen, she returned to the southern capital safe and sound, the gloom and quiet of night did not quell her valiant spirit in the wild country-side but neither did it calm her sorrows and dismay in her sleepless night. She was still troubled in soul to know that Memlafar would never be hers as he wished him to, but neither did she betray his name and honour, for little is known whether she told her father, Lord Horoglas, of Memlafar true nature and actual interests. Since there was no fas there about and no accounts convey that anything said about the matter upon returning to Ceor, it is safe to assume that lady Gellen either did not tell her father of the fair brother’s affair with Marren the merry, or else none of them cared, for Memlafar’s wedding to lady Carall was not canceled and the temper of lord Horoglas remained tamed for the rest of his stay in Harador.

Regarding, his quarrel with sir Estewan the Toothache, Elbracht’s mind on his proposal was not yet set; he wished to bring back his brother home, and still the price was the reconstruction of the Temple of Neldor. This troubled Elbracht to the core and he saw no light of reason in the matter. So deeming his mind not wise enough to choose for himself, Elbracht turned to the only man who’s opinion he respected and was yet not so partisan like his mother’s or his mentor’s. The lord of Ceor met with general Caradon in the council of governance. When finished the session, the lord bid all councilmen to leave save for the Earl Marshal. He wore his customary colours of linen and scarlet, and though there was no need for it, he bore his cape red and armour silver as if they were ordinary clothes. The general had a clear mind but not as impartial as he lord had thought, his eyes startled in shock to learn that his lord would be willing to permit the Order renew their grasp in Harador would it that it brought his brother Carédock back.

-“My lord, you have never spoken favourably about Neldor.” the general said, “What moves your heart to wish the temple of Neldor be built anew? In all the years I have served you, you have shown no love for the Order; what has sir Estewan said to make you consider this?”

-“I have no longing to see that edifice be made again lest for it to tower vigilant over all our houses, general.” said Elbracht, “But a hard choice I have been given, that sways my hand towards two options; regardless of what elect, I will regret not to have chosen the other.” the general noted, his lord’s eyes turned grim and drear, as if bewitched by the torment of his never-ending pondering and on his brow was seen the frown of doubt and unrest. “Some days ago, sir Estewan the Toothache came along His Eminence, TMR Samwel. He and his comrade sir Felyx, offered to compel the King into dispatching my brother Carédock back to us in Keor, yet the price would be the death of our liberty and autonomy, for, you see, they wish to install the Order in our city, as it was old, ever watchful of our every deeds. I take no pleasure in welcoming Neldor back to Keor, but I made a promise to my brethren and my mother, that I would do whatever I could to return Carédock to our fold—you have seen the rift that afflicts this family, you have witnessed the sour taste of our alienation, and the withering of the Golden Oak of Harador. If I refuse sir Estewan, Gods only know, when the Clasthaur will be one bound clan again, if refuse the Order, my family will learn to despise me, and never again shall the tree of my house grow strong and united as we of old were.”

-“If the Order of Neldor stretches its clutches hither, they will question every policy you install, betray every creed we stand for, and if needs be, they put a chain in all of our necks and wrists and we will be like the King, enslaved to the White Tower, with a dead heart and waning spirits. You will have your brother back in Keor, but will it be worth the death of the freedoms we have gained and you have given?”

Then a shadow passed over Elbracht’s eyes and his doubt turned to fear and anguish, for his tongue betrayed his mind into saying, “What would my father have done in my stead?” these words rang in his ears to be kept a regretful memory to be looked back to in shagrim. General Caradon was just as stunned as his lord to have heard this, but he knew the mind of Elbracht well enough to guess that these words filled him with shame.

-“I cannot speak for Elreck the Rough.” said the general, “you may hold his office, and you may be his blood, but his is not your name, sire. If any man knew you father better than me, they’d be lying if they tell you, lord Elreck was fit to rule. You, my lord, are thrice a better leader than he ever was. You should not seek council in his ghost. I don’t claim to be of some special wisdom, and my words are not the verse of harpers or the discourse of sages. So, since so much depends on him, why don’t you ask yourself, sire, what would sir Carédock have you do?”

Those words, were perhaps not as fair as the rhymes of lyrists, and not as eloquent as the talk of sages, but they were the simple words of a plain man; their message thrice more precious than the advice of the wise and mighty. So Elbracht in his mind, pondered a while longer, what his brother would think of it all; long had he worried what his mother would say, or how his brothers should react, and yet little had he cared to think of what Carédock would want and soon it became clear. Carédock loathed the Order just as much as Elbracht, he gave up his own freedom to try to ensure a future without its oppressing grasp and he longed for the freedom men and their kingdoms. Never would he have permitted his brother to set him free if it cost the death of the sovereignty of Harador; would it that he agrees to sir Estewan’s offer, his family would have been reunited with the crippled brother returned, but Carédock himself would have given up his own life lest that the Order expanded its reach to his homeland.

Elbracht’s mind was now set and he thanked the Earl Marshall for his counsel and dismissed him. Thereupon he went to see sir Estewan and sir Felyx, and forbiddingly he refused Neldor’s offer and declared to them “In Keor, there shall be no temple, but the ruins of Neldor, there will not be another eye of Arno*(6) nor a bastion for your White Tower. The Haradese are free, and shall not bow to your Order. Aentéde, servants of Túr-Anna*(7)! Aentéde!”—these last words, he said in Nólbic and mean ‘Begone’—He made sure they understood them in all tongues and jargons of both men and Ennard, and so the two knights of Neldor left the castle, but before their depature, the lady Root stopped them, curious to know what had transpired. Sir Felyx told her of the offer they had made lord Elbracht and of his refusal to accept it. Seeing that his son had not honoured his words to do all he could to bring Carédock back, the lady Aveline went to him and raged with flames of woe, her eyes welling tears of disillusion, and her voice wailing damnations to Elbracht. Elbracht foresaw this would happen and yet had only a few words in his defense; though to his mother they seemed a childish excuse, to Elbracht it was a noble one, “‘Tis what Carédock would have wanted.” he said. To that sentence the lady Root whined again and reproached her son.

That day the lady Aveline retired to her chambers and spoke little to anyone, too disheartened to put two words together, the Lord of Ceor would have fallen too into a bottomless pit of remorse, if the lady of Ravenhair had not come to his aid. She met with Elbracht in the great hall and talked the day long of tales of yore and other things fair and thrilling, and on they went talking until clouds turned grey and skies darkened, Elbracht had later on that day a meeting with his mentor Asadue, but the Hazagodian noted his pupil never made it to the meeting, the prince stating that he’d be given at that same hour “a birthday gift”.

In the evening of the third day, sir Tulfric went to see his mother, for he had overheard, she had had a dispute with his older brother and wished to know what had caused her dismay. Once in her tower she denied him entrance, confusing Tulfric for Elbracht,

-“Begone, Elbracht!” she yelled at the closed door, behind which Tulfric kept quiet, “You have brought this on yourself. You are a traitor to your own words, you said you would bring Carédock back to me, that you would restore him to these halls…” and so she went on saying and in his quietness, Tulfric learned all what had occurred; that Elbracht gave up the chance to be returned his brother so as to keep the Order meddling hand out of his kingdom. It is not clear how he reacted to this news, for in his memoirs, the clever brother only noted that he wished to clarify his mother’s accusations with Elbracht himself. He left lady Aveline’s tower and went to his brother’s. The way thither was silent and lonely, only a few guards rested quietly by a corner, leaning on the walls, with bent chins and bowed brows. The halls were cold and blue was the night; not an owl hooted, not a bird sang; all slept under the starlit sky. Tulfric wondered whether it would be wise to disturb his brother’s sleep at an hour so late, but in that languid eve, he would have been the only one with no dreams or rest.

He made his way to the tallest tower, long time he climbed its spiral stairs, the light of moon beaming through tainted glass, and the sconces of dim bright cast tired shadows left and right. He stood before the door to Elbracht’s room and some noise came out thence, amidst the moaning a few words he could discern “Birthday gift, Birthday gift.” Leaving no time for doubts, he opened the door and lo! There was lady Jessa in the arms of lord Elbracht, her raven hairs spread on his chest, his thick arms gently around her neck, and a scarlet kiss wrapped by linen sheets. Under the light of candles they lay, bliss was in their heads and stars shone in their eyes, as the glint of lover’s lure, sweet but forbidden. Tulfric could say little in his shudder, but what his mouth could not tell, said the silence in its stead. The stars in the eyes of Elbracht smothered and he too was speechless. There the two brothers held their quiet and their stillness was loud as if they yelled at each other until the sight was too much for Tulfric to bear and so he vanished in the shadows behind the threshold. Elbracht went after him, for Tulfric heard the strides of hasty feet behind him, but when his brother was about to catch him, excusing himself, trying to explain, Tulfric had gotten to his tower and locked the door behind him. Long did Elbracht lean at the door and his words turned to whine “Forgive me, O forgive me, brother” he said over and over again at his door, until the moon waned and the sun stirred and his wailing failed mixing with the song of crows outside.

Birthday Gift [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/928675464401281116/1090971502616252467/Birthday_Gift.jpeg]

The next day was grey, greyer than swords or stone, shrouded with mist and fog. The breath of winter blew from the north and it was cold like graves of names forgotten, never before had the south been so cool, not since the reign of Nymphada and the Long Winter when the Order of Neldor was born. The castle was colder still, its stony walls turned ice-pale, inside, ghosts of old roamed freely in its empty halls. There the lords and lady slept, unaware the sun had long risen tall, hid somewhere high beyond the clouds and mist above, for the shadow of night was still bent on Ceor and all lay on their beds as if dead, dreaming of sommer and its fair breeze of warmth.

Up in Tulfric’s tower, upon the the cold steps to his chamber lay Elbracht still, his mind somewhere set in troubled dreams and nightmares and in his thoughts he was falling, rolling down the stairs to solitude ready to cell himself in a dungeon of despair until the croaking of crows awakened him, removing that terrible vision but then again the sentiment endured. To his dismay he was alone and before him the door was closed, fast unmoved like a stone wall behind which no light was seen, no sound was heard, and gazing at it he felt the freezing hands of lady Jessa around him, a bitter reminder of his betrayal. He stood a while before it, but he did not knock, for he felt he had lost his right to do so. He left the tower and went to his own, but since the fair daughter of the north still lay on his bed sleeping untroubled by what they had done, he left her too and roamed the halls of his castle strolling among its ghosts and he saw them standing there with judging eyes and they called to him; in the wind he heard their voices calling him Elreck-son.

Having no friends left, knowing not to whom else to turn, he climbed the stairs of the chamberlain’s tower seeking the solace of his mentor. There he dared to knock and yet no one answered for Asadue was fast asleep. Feeling unworthy of his counsel too, Elbracht left him to his dreams and though he longed for company in the loneliness of the morning no one but he was woke. He knew himself undeserving of comfort and to match that solitude he went up to the terrace, to the roof of the keep, and there the air was chilly and though clad with cloaks and cape he felt the icy breeze in his bones as if bare of flesh and clothe. Above him were four towers, at which tops slept his mother and brothers, he saw each spire and they looked back at him like hanging eyes percing through him with their sight. Elbracht felt like weeping, for his fell guilt longed to pour out of him through tears and whine, but he did not dare for he noticed that he was not alone; a tall figure was there behind him, shrouded with mist and haze, for a moment he thought it was another ghost or else the shadow of his father returned to haunt him. Yet, though it was silent like a wraith, the figure was alive. Soon Elbracht discerned the man standing there was lord Senthaig, tall and proud like the northern lord he was and his mind dwelt in the halls of memory, thinking of winter and the snow-covered countries of his land.

Elbracht stood next to him and though the lord Senthaig certainly felt his breath next to him, it was hard to tell if beneath his bristly brows he had the eyes to see the lord of Ceor standing by his shoulder, Elbracht saw him unmoved by wind or thought and he was silent like stone in the likeness of some hero of old tall like a horse and twice as threatening in his stillness, but then a breath came out from his mouth and said.

-“‘Tis freezing out here—not that it bothers—and yet it is not as freezing as in me halls far off north, yond yere fair woods and the King’s Mountain yonder still.”

-“I trust, winter suits you then, my lord.” Elbracht said.

-“Aye, winter and Ich go back a long way… Ich was born in the cold, ich was bred in the cold, and when me life is over, me body shall be borne to lie on the cold, they should let the wolves feast on me or else let the snow take me and turn what’s left of me to stone, like me sires before me. Ich often roam the roads of the Gron Country looking for the corpses of me forebearers turned to fast statues on icy fields. ‘Tis a custom among the lords of the north, to venture into the wild just before their passing and die in the hands of Nymphada, Ich wish to meet the same end if the gods allow it.”

-“Quite a gruesome death if you don’t mind my saying.” Elbracht said.

-“Why, that’s gruesome!” groaned lord Senthaig, “yet ‘tis oure way to pass into the other world, gruesome and cold! I am old, m’lord Elbracht, old and tired, tired of warmth and fire. Men make fires to run away from the cold, whilst Ich embrace it. Me father, lord Fensoeg, passed on a day much like this one, he kissed me mother, hugged me and me brother and left for the white realm, where no living thing grows. Times are ripe for me to follow him, and die by the freezing hand seeking for his statue. Yet, only me sweet Pansy will remain, she’ll be left lone in the northern halls. This Ich fear that she shan’t dwell there long without the fire of a man to keep her company. Sir Tulfric is a clever lad, but brains don’t keep warm nor do they withstand the cold, in the Fenland, he’ll wither like crabgrass, but not yer. Yere spirit is strong, me lord, and if yer can take the cold steel of swords as well as yer did in the tourney in the capital, yer’ll be strong enough to face the storm of snow unweathered.”

-“My hand is taken, my lord,” Elbracht said, “I am due to another, as you well know.”

-“Aye, yer preferred a golden bird over me black raven.” Lord Senthaig said, “In yere eyes it was better to marry a griffin of the Sovarós over a raven of the Niensor; lady Alyse is a fair maid but she ain’t like me Jessa, a true Daughter of the North or Ravenhair, as yer so kindly named her.”

“Lady Jessa is a strong maid.” said Elbracht, “and she is the most graceful dame I have ever seen, yet I am not promised to her. My fire may warm her a little, alas, not even the mightiest blaze may melt her heart.”

-“She will be strong as long as a strong man stands beside her, and that yer are, strong. There is a fire in yere heart that will keep her warm.”

Then the northern lord kept his silence, and there was only the cooling wind to hear, but then Senthaig spoke again.

-“Ich trust, yer have received yere Birthday Gift.” Elbracht then startled speechless at him, and there was neither shock in the old man’s eyes, nor frown in his brow, but his mouth groaned and then he spoke.

-“Yer don’t think me Pansy would open herself to anyone without me leave, pray? The gift was mine, but it was wrapped and soothed by her beauty. ‘Twas Ich who bid her come to yer. Ich reckon yer did not see much worth in me proposal when I first made yer the offer in Culgarost, but times have changed and the Fenland has grown into one of yere mightiest allies, me house hath become wealthier as of new, and now there is more value in the northern prospect to reconsider.”

Elbracht almost swallowed his tongue and shuddered, he saw lord Senthaig now under a different light, and he deemed, he was not as plain as he appeared. Beneath his brow, he hid the eyes of a scheming mind covered by the guise of a simple man. For this he feared him most and since one could not read his face it was hard to know his thoughts lest through the groans of his throat or the grind of his teeth.

-“Now that yer had a taste of her, all that is left is to set yere mind. Ich give yer the chance to forsake lady Alyse—for the looks of it on yere birthday—ye don’t seem to go along well, whereas with me daughter yer shown to be what she desired. Wed the Ravenhair instead and let oure alliance become a true bond in blood. Ich will give yer more time to dwell on these thoughts.” Having said this he left the terrace and lord Elbracht wandered in his solitude and once again he heard voices in the wind, whispers of ghost all about him and the shadow of his father loomed terribly about him.

Up in Tulfric’s tower, upon the the cold steps to his chamber lay Elbracht still, his mind somewhere set in troubled dreams and nightmares and in his thoughts he was falling, rolling down the stairs to solitude ready to cell himself in a dungeon of despair until the croaking of crows awakened him, removing that terrible vision but then again the sentiment endured. To his dismay he was alone and before him the door was closed, fast unmoved like a stone wall behind which no light was seen, no sound was heard, and gazing at it he felt the freezing hands of lady Jessa around him, a bitter reminder of his betrayal. He stood a while before it, but he did not knock, for he felt he had lost his right to do so. He left the tower and went to his own, but since the fair daughter of the north still lay on his bed sleeping untroubled but what they had done, he left her too and roamed the halls of his castle walking aimlessly among its ghosts and he saw them standing there with judging eyes and they called to him; in the wind he heard their voices calling him Elreck-son.

-“‘Tis freezing out here—not that it bothers—and yet it is not as freezing as in me halls far off north, yond yere fair woods and the King’s Mountain yonder still.”

-“I trust, winter suits you then, my lord.” Elbracht said.

-“Quite a gruesome death if you don’t mind my saying.” Elbracht said.

-“My hand is taken, my lord,” Elbracht said, “I am due to another, as you well know.”

-“She will be strong as long as a strong man stands beside her, and that yer are, strong. There is a fire in yere heart that will keep her warm.”

Then the northern lord kept his silence, and there was only the cooling wind to hear, but then Senthaig spoke again.

-“Ich trust, yer have received yere Birthday Gift.” Elbracht then startled speechless at him, and there was no shock in the old man’s eyes, nor frown in his brow, but his mouth groaned and then he spoke,

-“Yer don’t think me Pansy would open herself to anyone without me leave, pray? The gift was mine, but it was wrapped and soothed by her beauty. ‘Twas Ich who bid her come to yer. Ich reckon, yer did not see much worth in me proposal when I first made yer the offer in Culgarost, but times have changed and the Fenland has grown into one of yere mightiest allies, me house hath become wealthier as of new, and now there is more value in the northern prospect to reconsider.”

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LIV. Not soon after, the people in the castle began to rise, but the cold remained unfaded. People ate breakfast and carried on their business as usual unaware of what had transpired, and though some whispered about fell figures moving through the night, rumoured of shouting and weeping of the Clasthaur drama, things remained as usual in court. While most were thrilling for the weddings to come, those who were involved in their preparations worried that the ceremony would not be grand enough to honour both the southern lords and their distinguished guests from across the realm. Flags and standards were raised high; the colours of the houses streaming sweetly in the wintry wind, most banners were borrowed from the convoys of the great houses, and yet there was some concern there were not enough heraldries in display, the blue of the Niensor and the pink of the Durne was easy to find, but there was not enough red in their stores to hoist the scarlet of the Sovarós. To solve this, good wine had to be poured and dried on linen cloths to come about a famished red for the Greyth-lords. By noon, the city was clad with many signs and placards of foreign powers and of the Clasthaur too, and amidst so much pomp and colour, the spirits of Ceor grew high and merry—it had been long since there was any ground on which to celebrate but the weddings of the southern lords proved enough to boost the city’s morale.

Behind the walls of the Principal Palace, however, the lords of Ceor were in blue mood, devided by distraught and betrayal, none among the Clasthaur could gather enough reasons to make their mouths smile. Lord Elbracht was gloomiest of all, he had lost the trust of his mother and brother and not even the wise words and console of his dear mentor could cheer up his sorry spirit and he grew even sorrier still to now that his dismay was yet not over. Later after launchon, Elbracht waited in the council chamber to meet with lord Hadril so as to talk about the preparations for his wedding to lady Alyse. In his stead came sir Hans Woodmot, sorrowly he told Elbracht, that his liege-lord had left Ceor the night before. Presently, sir Hans delivered him a letter and before he could even unseal it, the famous knight bowed to him and left on horse to meet his lord on the way home. The letter was written in an obsolete script, which before had only been used in days of old, from the times when the Sovarós and the Clasthaur first signed their league of old. Though the style was ancient, the language was common and it read:

“Hadril, by the grace of the Cross, Lord of Fyore, and Prince-protector of Thindur to our beloved friend Elbracht, Lord of Keor,

We came to thee as thou hadst no friends in court, and in cheery mood we appealed to thy spirit to rekindle our ancient alliance by offering thee the hand of our only daughter, our most beloved treasure. But thy aptitude towards my daughter was very poor and we think not that thou willst be a good husband to her. We do not wish to part from thee in animosity, yet know, that thy betrothal to the Lady Alyse is hereby abandoned. Nevertheless, no harm shall come thy way on our behest so as to honour the Peace of His Grace, the King.

We part for the city of Nalas to celebrate the holy festivity of Eldermas on the ground of that ancient site of men’s lore. We wish thy brothers a merry life with their betrothed, as for thee, may the four fathers bless thee and the four mothers keep thee.

Fare thee well always, Crus’duinessé*(8).”

With lord Hadril and the prospect of a powerful alliance gone, lord Elbracht felt his schemes began to rumble. On the one hand his behaviour on his birthday prompted the unhappiness of lady Alyse—and the bravegriff certainly swayed his father into cancelling the wedding altogether—and so he lost the head of the lamb, the most valuable of his prospects, on the other hand he was now free to marry the lady Jessa without remorse lest the total antipathy of his brother Tulfric and yet he had no desire to make a stranger of his brother; sealing a union with his betrothed would only breathe more fire to their already fiery predicament. Troubled by the mess he had formed—some of it brought upon himself, some of it written by the hands of fate—and the weight of it all rolled down to him, to heavy to bear alone, he went to the man he trusted most.

A midst despair he turned to his mentor. Asadue was up in his tower, praying to the foreign god of his Hazagodian religion, and as Elbracht came in he overheard him praying in his native tongue “shawkh achteim i wazhm, Adhu”, which he understood and in the common speech it meant ‘O Father of Mercy, lift away the weight on my shoulders’. At this, Elbracht trembled and he wept in the arms of his mentor. The two men talked long thereupon on matters of the soul until the light of day diminished and Elbracht told him all that had transpired, of his ventures with lady Gellen into the countryside and the manner in which they came about his brother Memlafar, of the Birthday Gift of lord Senthaig and of his quarrel with Tulfric the clever. In the wisdom of his speech, in the eld of his voice, Elbracht finally found comfort and it was as if he had disposed of a heavy burden, which in his mind had been a terrible storm, and yet he was not free of guilt; the sins of his flesh still burnt his skin but the cole-warm eyes of Asadue laid on him as he spoke were like the eyes of a father, who understood him better than any other soul on the earth. For this he was thankful and then he asked again for his advice,

-“O Mentor, why I am a terrible son and a terribler brother!” said he “the Gods in their mercy may find some forgiveness in the halls of their hearts, but on earth the shroud of darkness mantles me, and sinking in that void I am lonesome, and the fire in my heart dwindles faint in the shadows of my own doing.”

-“I will not tell thee, thou’st done right, my pupil” the mentor said, “but one cannot always rule the heart, thy lust can be wild as that of any other, still one only has a will to act in his own accordance. Though desire my rule our spirits from time to time, ‘tis the mind’s job to rule our hearts. Yet don’t dwell in the void for too long nor live in fear of the fates and their cruel hands. If my words can be of any use to thee, I compel thee to go to master Tulfric once more and tell him the things thou hast said unto me, but go in penitence, not in boast; don’t be the Lord of Keor, don’t be the Harad-lion, be Elbracht, the brother, and nake to him thy guilt and sorrows. Once it worked with Memlafar, pray that it will be the same with him now.”

They talked some more on his other sorrows, of his mother’s dismay, of Memlafar’s shunning. Nevertheless, Asadue said,

-“Deal with things one by one, not all of them in a rush, for thou may’st say things which confound the wisest and seethe the most temperate if thou speakst of them in despair.”

Reassured by the mentor’s sagacious words and again reborn in some subtle might—which is only powerful in the mind—Elbracht went to Tulfric’s tower, where at last the door was opened, if by chance or by Tulfric’s own hand, Elbracht did not know, but he entered, notheless, and there was the clever brother minding for some manuscripts and volumes on the thoughts of the old sage Hubar—who was among sir Tulfric’s favourite minds. He did not seem surprise to see Elbracht, and yet his discontent had not lessened. He frowned at his face and was ready to leave, but Elbracht stood on his way and though he did not yet had the heart to forgive him, he was certainly stunned to see his brother knelt to him. Tulfric wrote in his diary of a special astonishment he felt in that occasion, for in his reckoning his brother had never bowed down to any man not even the King (one most remember he was not been present in the council of he princes). Elbracht took Tulfric’s hand, as he stood before him fast unmoved, and kissed it.

-“Brother mine, I know I am far off forgiveness, but know that I remorse what I have done, and though your hatred is justified, I do not wish to make of us foes.” He said.

Tulfric remained silent for a moment, and his eyes a light of pity dwindled. Not before long he bid his brother to stand, saying unto him,

-“Rise Elbracht, you are the Lord of Keor and Master of my House, not my servant.” but then Elbracht said,

-“Nay, I am not come wearing a crown nor with a whip in hands, I have come as your brother, if in your mind there is still room for you to call me so.”

As Elbracht did not wish to rise, Tulfric lowered himself down to him, and gave him his hand to stand again on his feet.

-“Brother… ‘what blood hath bound no man can untie’ said the old Hubar once upon a time. I cannot yet forgive you, but we are family and I will not seek revenge.” Tulfric said, and as he said this the withered heart of Elbracht blossomed anew.

Thereupon the two brothers talked long about had transpired yester eve, and as Asasdue suggested, Elbracht bared his thoughts to him; he told him about the lord Hadril’s letter and the cancelling of his wedding to lady Alyse, he spoke of Birthday Gift and the manner in which the lady Jessa approached him,

-“She is cold and beautiful as the winter, but she does not have a mind of her own” Elbracht said, “for though she was the birthday present, she was not the gifter. I met with lord Senthaig in the morning and he confessed to me it had been his plan all along to compel me into marrying his daughter; our night together should have worked as an incentive to reconsider the proposal.”

-“Should have?” asked Tulfric, “Do you mean to say, it is no longer your intent to accept lord Senthaig’s offer?”

-“It never was,” answered Elbracht, “not if it will cost me my brother.”

Tulfric and Elbracht talked then in length about the deceif of the lord Senthaig, who in their eyes was no longer as plain and simple as they had deemed him. Nevertheless, they did not wish to call off Tulfric’s wedding, for though they concurred that the Niensor were no longer to be fully trusted, their was still some need to form a blood alliance with the now wealthy northern lords. At the end both brothers agreed that the course of events to come was not to be altered and Tulfric should marry the lady Jessa. On this matter their mind were clear, but as Elbracht told him the manner in which Memlafar had been found as he went missing on his birthday, both brothers were concerned that the fair Memlafar would not honour his matrimony and would instead run away should the chance been given. Tulfric promised his brother, he would do his best to convince him in Elbracht’s stead.

And so the day passed and another came, and all preparations were ready for the two weddings. The banners of the Sovarós were lowered to the shock of all, but the music of bards and harpered cover that mystery in fairy tunes and songs of good fortune and blessing the brothers’ names and their betrothed. All courtiers were thrilled too, they bore fancy clothes of the costliest textile they could get their hands on, and there was bliss in the air, as if the Gods had come down to bless the ceremony.

The day started with the toll of bells and in the haze of that wintry morrow the lights of the sagrary up in the High Hill were like a beacon amidst clouds and shades. Inside the temples, hyms were song in old tongues and four blessings were chanted both in Adenaic and the common speech. The scent of myhrr and candles poured out the tall windows and sailed the wind across Ceor as a holy fragrance pleasant to the nose. Lord Elbracht came in first and behind him went the lady Aveline, clad in green and black, not long after them came the two grooms, sir Tulfric and sir Memlafar, bearing golden branches of some old oak as a symbol of their house. Then, rolled in lord Horoglas the Ample, round as a ball escorting his dumpy daughter and though her face was made up and wore vivid tones of pink and red, besides her father she looked like a smaller sphere bowling into the temple. Thereafter, rid in lord Senthaig the Plain, tall as a horse and awesome like a warrior, and along him jaunted in the lady Jessa white as snow, cold and beautiful, her raiments were dark as the sea, of pansies was her crown and her black mane tressed long pended behind her shoulders. Behind each lord the banners of their houses followed like coloury shadows embroidered with their sigils.

Later amidst blessings and chants so holy, the Enimére Samwell mantled each couple in silvery shrouds, and blessed each one with oils and prayers. As the Enimére bonded the hands of Tulfric and lady Jessa, of Memlafar and lady Carall, loud was sung the Frux’cede Felixe Coniuxos—“Be Fruitful, Ye Merry Married” in Adenaic—and trumpets rang inside amid the echoe of hallow voices, and outside a great booming horn was blown, which sound was rarely heard lest in some ceremony of renown such as weddings and crownings.

There was, broadly speaking, much happiness in the air; courtiers and peasants alike enjoyed the wedding day both in the halls of rich mansions, and in the crowded streets and slums of Ceor. Lady Carall was by far the merriest of all, she grinned the day long, her sister in contrast was a shadow of gloom behind her, and sir Memlafar was much like her in spirit. From time to time, Memlafar and Gellen spoke and though none could say whereof, there was a blue look in their faces. As for lord Senthaig, he appeared as he always was, plain and devoid of all sentiment, while his daughter Jessa did smile both in court and to her husband, sir Tulfric did not seem very pleased, and still some grace was in his eyes. But Lord Elbracht was sternest and his eyes were grim, as if his guilt had weaved a shadow about him, and though the people of Ceor prepared for the merry holidays as the festivities of Eldermas approached, the days grew darker and the wind blew colder.

Of Birthdays and Gifts

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