?Yes, Galwyn, I admit I sent men into your lands to investigate matters, as it seemed you were unwilling or unable to discover the source of thefts. Afterall, it was goods from my lands and trade agreements made through our agents that were being pilfered as well. Eadric kept me apprised of the thefts from warehouses of his caravans in that area, too.? Kieran rebuked the elderly baron of the north. His own frustrations rising at the endless bickering over how he had come to lose seven men not the why.

The barons sat in semi-circle in the hall with King Rhodri and Prince Maelgwn sitting on the low set dais attentive to every word. It was a smaller hall, often set aside for the assembly of Barons. It suited the seven men well, and gave opportunity for them to speak openly about issues in the company of the royals. Comfortable chairs and small tables nearby to hold drinks and food if requested were the spare furniture. A scribe sat waiting in the corner should King Rhodri need him. Windows spaced in tandem along two of the walls gave light during the day and, in good weather, fresh air from the small courtyard just outside.

But at this moment the room felt stifling even with the windows open and the fine breeze dancing its way in from time to time. Baron Galwyn looked near apoplexy at the news of Kieran?s men investigating matters of his lands. ?You had no right, Kieran, and that is the point of the matter.?

?And what would you have us do? Wait until the Sedlaral are upon our doorsteps and invite them to tea?? Eadric spoke up, as he too had cause for concern with his lands bordering the western line.

?Baron Eadric,? the Prince chastised with nothing more than speaking the man?s name.

?The Sedlaral are legends and fanciful tales the bards and minstrels tell. Myths and legends of ancient times to explain away frights of the night.? Baron Awstin grumbled out of his grey bushy beard.

?The Circelus of Anria is less certain of that, Awstin,? a decisive frown pulled at Kieran?s mouth. He had to fight the irritations of these men, comfortable in their certainty. That they had brought their sons instead might have saved this meeting much in wasted time.

?The Circelus,? Galwyn scoffed, but when King Rhodri, who has been known to call upon the assistance of ambassadors of the Circelus himself gave a narrowing look, the grumbling softened and turned into sulking.

?I regret that I had to withhold my intentions and my activities from your knowledge, but the findings I feel outweigh that matter now,? Kieran turned more fully to the King. ?My lord, if Baron Galwyn will not send a warband to seek out what has happened at the monastery and the surrounding lands, then I request permission to do so with my own men.?

?And I will join you, brother,? Eadric spoke up to support his brother-in-law.

The silence revealed the creaking of a chair as Awstin shifted. Tree limbs tapped upon the stones in the courtyard beyond the windows. King Rhodri sat and looked at none of them, and yet each man could sense the King had them all in his sights. Barely moving the hand from his lips to pause in the air before him, Rhodri asked, ?What say you Galwyn? Will you heed your baronial brother?s advice??

?Your Majesty,? Galwyn smiled smoothly, ?there is nothing I find to suggest this is warranted beyond the local actions of a few thieves that will be dealt with in time. The Baron Kieran sent his men into a plague infested monastery and lost them all is a shame, but not one that should require I commit the same folly.?

?A shame, as I had hoped you would have at least pretended to see things his way.? Rhodri gave not a moment?s hesitation to absorb the shocked look upon Galwyn?s face as he gave a nod to Kieran, ?Very well, Kieran, take your warband, and Eadric?s as well if you feel it necessary, and see what in the name of The Twelve is going on in those lands. I would rather know than have speculation of ghost stories and ancient myths used to frighten the people.? He rose and Prince Maelgwn did the same sending Kieran a knowing wink as he and his father turned for the door and out.

The urgent pounding upon the front door roused Sylvia straight out of her bed. The hour must have been late for the manor felt of sleepy occupants and uncertainty at the late caller. Surely, though, the guards would have sent up a cry had the matter been dire. Still, Sylvia drew on the robe and took up the longsword from its scabbard where it rested in a corner.

Miriam was in the hallway with Aidan weeping softly against her shoulder and Cian held close with her firm grip upon his arm. Sylvia gave a reassuring smile, ?Go on back to bed, my boys. There?s nothing to worry you.?

?I?m not scared,? Cian said to his mother?s back while tugged away by his nanny to return to bed.

The pounding on the door had stopped. Candle in one hand, sword in the other, and not being able to see her feet, Sylvia was careful in her steps down the curving stairway. A guard met her halfway up, ?My lady, Mistress Buie says she must speak with you urgently.?

A lurch to her heart caught her breath, and she nodded. ?Here,? she handed him the sword hilt up, ?take this back up to my room, please.?

He gave a brief nod and took the blade. With that out of her hands, Sylvia was able to use the banister and move more quickly down the stairs where Kiema stood with her arms wrapped around a book, eyes dark and wide. Sylvia waved the guard off, and took Kiema by the elbow towards the parlor. ?What is it??

?I?m not sure,? Kiema?s voice pitched low as a slow running brook. She sat in a wingback chair as Sylvia moved to light lamps in the room.

?Do not hedge words with me, Kiema. You would not rouse me and my entire household from our beds if you did not have some idea.? Sylvia scowled as she sat across from the lady.

Kiema shook her head, ?I believe I have some answers in this book, but the text is so convoluted, I cannot be sure what those answers are.?

Violet eyes narrowed slightly as she looked over this late night visitor. Worn out would be the first assessment, but there was an undeniable energy to her body that sat on the edge of the seat and leaned forward. ?So, why did you come here??

?I need passage to Seansloe, and I need Master Pearan brought there as well. You know the Circelus has no ship at their call, and he may be the only one who can help me.? Kiema opened and closed the book, a ribbon had marked the page of the poem. Over and over she fidgeted with anticipation by slightly opening the book and then letting it close its pages again.

This motion did not escape Sylvia?s notice. ?Why not sail straight to Anria and speak with him there??

?Because the Sedlaral are not in Anria, and we need to have this information as soon as we decipher it near those that can use it best.?

?Kieran may be well on his way to the monastery with a warband by the time you reach there. I received word just this day King Rhodri approved his plan.? Sylvia felt tension, concern, worry of the worst rising up her spine like a chord of knots woven tight and fast.

?Then it is all the more imperative that I leave as soon as possible. I hope this book will let him know what he rides to discover, or at least some way to prepare.?

Atin appeared just behind Kiema and gave a grim nod. He said nothing. Kiema did not even turn. He seemed so transparent as Sylvia could almost see right through him to the room behind. But there was no doubt his meaning. Sylvia rose as he disappeared and stepped to her desk. Flipping open the inkwell, and snatching paper, she wrote a quick note, signed and pressed her seal upon its closed fold. ?You will leave soon. Gather anything more that you need and be at the Yran Lark as soon as you can. I will send this note ahead to the captain to gather his crew and make ready to immediately return to Seansloe upon your arrival.?

Sylvia walked with Kiema to the door and motioned for one of the patrolling guards. Handing him the note, she gave clear instructions and he bowed sharply before he turned on heel and ran for the stables. ?Kiema, if he is still there when you arrive, tell Kieran the boys and I will return upon the arrival of the Wren. Ask him to wait if at all possible.? A dark sigh, ?I would come tonight, but I wish to protect my sons from fear. To move them in the night would be??

?Of course, Sylvia,? Kiema offered up a very convincing smile of comfort. ?And I will tell him, be assured of that.?

Sylvia watched as Kiema dashed off into the darkness. As she turned back inside and took the stairs, Atin stood at the top. ?We have run out of time, Sylvia.?

?You know what is going to happen, don?t you?? She stopped on the step just below him.

?No, but I will not be able to help you any longer. Remember what I have said.?

?I may remember, but its meaning will remain unclear,? Sylvia smirked and stepped past him. Weariness beat at her shoulders though her mind was alive with concerns. It would be a long night.

Atin laughed, ?A sliced view is rarely clear. Until next time, Sylvia,? and he was gone before he finished her name.

?Next time?? she asked the dark hallway and none answered.

?Of course we can send a ship for Master Pearan, Kiema, but I cannot delay for his arrival.? Kieran sighed. He had already delayed upon the Changling?s surprise appearance on his doorstep two days ago and being told Sylvia and his sons would be returning. Sylvia had arrived just that day, and now the three of them sat in the common room of their family quarters to discuss everything of the situation in the north.

Kiema?s usually passive demeanor was revealing mild irritation, which could only mean she was highly irritated. Sylvia looked discomforted but thoughtful, her fingers drumming on her belly lightly. ?Kiema, I have to agree with Kieran on this. He must move forward before the Sedlaral gain more ground. And beyond that, we need to find out what their intentions are. The longer we wait, the more dangerous things will become.?

?My concern exactly,? Kieran agreed. ?They started with short forays, thieving supplies and diverting caravans. Then people began to disappear, then rising of plagues in monasteries and small farm communities. What next??

Kiema spluttered, ?This poem may have those answers, or at the very least, what their purpose was last time. I can give you those answers without harming a single one of your people going into the unknown.?

?You may be able to give us answers of the past. Nothing, however, serves better than to find out first hand what is going on and why.? Kieran could see the rebuttal near to springing from Kiema?s mouth, and he raised a hand. ?I do not discount the value of the history there, but it can only give me possibilities. I still say we cannot delay longer. It should take us three days if the weather favors us and we push hard to reach the lands of the monastery. We leave at dawn tomorrow.?

?Then I will come with you,? Kiema spoke with such absolutism that Kieran had to work hard not to let his mouth drop open in dismay.

Sylvia, on the other hand, smiled, ?I think that is a good idea. I trust you?ve memorized the poem??

Kiema nodded, ?I have. I see you can tell my purpose, Sylvia.?

Kieran looked between the ladies, ?Then would either of you wish to share this plan with me??

It irked slightly that the ladies shared a look of patient amusement, but Kiema answered. ?Master Pearan and I will discuss the piece while I?m on the road with you. The distance is not so great that I would be unable to hear him, or he hear me and there are ways he can improve that communication while in the protections of the manor.?

?I suppose saying I do not like this idea would be wasted breath. I can see the value of the solution, even if I do not like the idea of you being out with us in dangers unknown.?

?I can pay the cost of this fight as much as you, Your Excellency. My kind are threatened as well.?

The three accepted the terms and the lateness of the hour which called them to slumber. Kiema left promptly and Kieran took Sylvia's hand upon his arm as they turned for bed. ?You know why I must go.?

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, ?Of course I do, just as I knew why you had to go in the last war, and I will anticipate your return just the same as before.?

He kissed the top of her head and silently wished for a swift and informative trip with few casualties. An empty wish, because he knew that he and those going with him would pay every farthing of the cost to find the answers they need.

?They are there,? Kiema whispered from her concealed position behind Kieran. He looked over his shoulder at her and kept close to the tree that was his place to wait while the rest of the warband spread out along the tree covered roll of land. ?I cannot feel anyone.? She confirmed the question in his eyes.

?Then it begins soon. I could wish to know their numbers, and it is certain they let us get to just this place. It is an advantage to them,? his head nodded forward slightly, ?that higher ground.?

The captain of the warband murmured, ?We could try to claim it first. I?ve heard no calls of sighting.?

?I do not know that you will,? Kieran said as he weighed the possibilities of taking the offensive in his mind. ?Remember this, we need to capture them more than kill, or else we?ll never learn anything.?

?That will make things difficult, sire, but you know the troop will do their best.?

?Aye, I know that, Captain,? Kieran gave a grim nod and then signaled for them to make their way forward up the low embankment.

Kiema stayed cradled in the pocket of three trees that had grown close together. She watched the men drift in and out of view through the trees up towards the hill top. The first cry of battle always cut her heart deep.

?No,? Kiema cursed softly, fingers biting into the bark of her hiding place as she watched the exchange of blows between Kieran and Ewan. Ewan had been a shock in the strange way one feels completely aware when thrown into the chill of an icy river. The terrible image of him in full Sedlaral markings clicked one hundred pieces of chaos into a more crystalline picture. She charged through the memory of the poem, dissecting the imagery and words, seeking some solution to this nightmare come alive.

That study was dissolved in the falling of Kieran. Unheeding the recklessness of revealing herself, Kiema scrambled from her hiding place and lurched uphill towards the men. ?No!? She screamed and grabbed at Ewan?s face, knowing she would be too weak to stop his arm. The emptiness of her gift was as dark as her mindscape from the journey back from death, but in that moment when the Sedlaral Ewan looked bewildered she felt her mindscape open wide. It was as if she could see the world around her as well as the shadowy image of her mind and its memories flashing in a frenzied flurry about her thoughts.

A hand reached through that imagery out to her. A hand she knew well not by sight by instinct. In her mind she grabbed that hand and clung to it as the shadows and terrors built and beat at her. Drawing upon the skills of her people, she wove the terrible images, the Sedlaral?s creation, into a curtain tied and knotted together. Flinging it into that darkness, a cry called out, but she could not say if it was her voice or another?s.

The world around them had stopped in the bizarre tremble of confrontation between Sedlaral and Changling. Ewan collapsed out of her grasp and she dropped to her knees beside him. All around her the other Sedlaral were fleeing in confused fear. She could sense emotions again as one senses the dawn.

Kiema felt every inch of her body tremble with weariness. Her eyes traveled up the still body of Ewan and fell upon his death ashen face. His whisper barely heard through lips tremoring in weakness, ?Let me go.?