"My lady," Llewellyn began once more from where he rode at her side, "I must insist that you move back in the column. I only wish to consider your safety." That he was sincere was not to be questioned.

Sylvia glanced to Ewan riding on her left. They were at the fore of the column of the warband, Llewellyn's men of the north. Earlier that morning they had pass the boundaries of Yransea. Unlike the journey towards the King's City which they had taken at steady pace, this time travel had been pressed. Every moment they felt they could press the horses forward they did, abandoning the supply wagons with a small contingency of guards. What they could survive on for the hurried journey is what they carried. It had made good time.

"We are nearing the outer reaches of Seansloe, my lord. If there are patrols around, patrols that have just faced a battle with a northern warband as the messenger we intercepted claims," the words jolted around the empty cavity of her insides like coins clinking harsh in a jar, "then do you not think for the safety of all considered I, as well as Master Corinsson, should be prominently seen?"

Ewan had even left his hair unconcealed. He was not, he had to admit, the only man with red hair, but his was an unusual tone. Lord Llewellyn's pretentious assertion that he cared for her safety more than any other around them rattled at the cage of Ewan's anger. It was still so very near to him, barely kept in check after what had happened. "Her Excellency is well protected here as back there, my lord, and wise of her to try and postpone any unnecessary bloodshed." With a sneer he felt obligated to add, "She is not dressed for battle to amuse."

Sylvia looked up to a tree, as if it held something of great interest to her. It would not do for Llewellyn to see her grin at Ewan's sarcasm. When she felt the moment pass, she looked back to the northern lord. "I am capable of defending myself even after all these years." She reached down to pat the side of her horse's neck and took comfort in the fact that the strong, gelding seemed ready to take to the run soon again.

They walked the mounts some moments longer, each searching for signs of what they feared and hoped just as the shadows of the trees and light of the sun broken free of clouds above exchanged their places. The column was solemn and serious, and had been since the dawn of their departure with the news of Rhodri's death. Old age had finally claimed him, the healers announced through the voice of the council. Maelgwn had given them leave to face their own troubles with tear reddened eyes, but a confident and steady demeanor.

So the troubles were drawing near and with a nod from both the men, Sylvia urged her horse into a trot and on to a gallop for another league, wondering what would meet them when they arrived.

Ewan guided his horse through the debris of the courtyard just starting its recovery from the attack in charred timbers next to fresh made boards. The sun broke through the scattered clouds and made shadows dance. So too did his horse's steps to clear broken pottery and half burned planks that once belonged to sturdy wagons and carts.

Llewellyn's warband had been escorted in, Her Excellency hurried off to speak with Keefe and Lyana, but Ewan's eyes scanned the scene and it told him much. What it did not tell him was if his family had been there and if they were still.

He released his horse to a stable boy and made fast steps to the front doors. If nothing else, Kiema might know if they were safe, and he fully expected her to be somewhere inside.

Storm rolled her shoulders, feeling muscles ache and protest. Minor cuts and bruises were hidden under her clothing, but she was moving like she had no pains. Another warband had arrived, and Storm was scanning through unknown faces for Ewan. She knew that Sylvia had arrived as well, but arrived to the commotion too late to see her. Finding no known faces, she quickened her pace to and out the front doors and nearly ran right into Ewan.

He knew that hair, the skin, the movements and he snatched at her like a child tries to snatch a firefly from the sky. "Storm," he looked her over, his free hand moved to touch her cheek and the rest of the question went unspoken. He needed to hear more than see that she was well. The same need burned in him to hear of their children. While the hive of commotion stirred to a pitch around them, he tried to urge them both off to the side.

Relief washed over her cool expression, and she leaned into him just for a moment to relish in his nearness again. Knowing that a more personal welcome would have to wait, she followed him off to the side, relaxing the firm grip she had on her control slightly, "Ewan, what happened? Are you all right?" With a soft voice, her own eyes were critical as they swept over his face again.

"You mirror half of my questions as well. I am fine, I assure you. What of you? The boys?" He did not ask what had happened. That he would learn later in the fullness of a discussion with the leaders of the barony. His hand relaxed its grip on her, but gentle fingers ran up and down one arm in a light touch.

"I am fine, just a few aches and cuts. I fair much better than many. The boys were not harmed but," She shivered slightly at the thought and the light touch on her arm, "they are afraid. Avery has slept with me."

Ewan tried to draw her into his arms to hold her close and give her what safety and assurance he could in that embrace. "Take me to see them, beloved. Then I will organize an escort so you may take them home."

Ignoring her pains, she adjusted slightly so that she could hold him close in return. The firm grip on her emotions and control lessened with the strength of his arms around her. "Avery is with Lenika now, and Kellan is napping. Ewan," She lifted her head to meet his gaze, "If you are going to be staying here longer, then I would ask to stay just a few more nights. None of us have seen you very long. They need you, too. And me."

The rush around them was dying away, and Ewan released her. His hand went down to enclose hers. Turning for the misshapen and broken doors half reformed with wood braces, he stepped inside and while he spoke with her, he analyzed the marks on the walls, the stains on floors not yet washed away of their bloody marks. "I cannot say what the next days will bring. I may be here much. I may be out with others hunting down the cause though now, with the passing of King Rhodri," the words spoken as fact without misstep or hint of the twist inside him, "Maelgwn may have the rights he needs to finish this madness before it becomes full fledged. You all," he smiled to her, "thwarted their plans to weaken his regions of power."

"Then let us stay, until you know what is asked of you." Keeping his hand firmly in hers, she followed him through the broken doors, trying to not look around as he did. She had seen plenty and cared for no more images to add to her memory, "Thwarted? Ewan," her voiced hushed as she continued to follow him, "it only became that just before it was too late. I.. almost missed it all. I was coming back from Lenika's when it started. I was going to leave in the morning."

"In such cases as these, no one looks at how slender the thread became, only that it held." He went up the stairwells, their curving walls not bereft of their own signs of abuse and dark hours. "Why is Avery with Lenika?" He asked as they came to their corridor and he went on to their rooms.

She did not further comment or argue his words. It did not change her feelings of the circumstance, "Kellan was having a particularly hard time falling asleep for his nap, and I thought it would best for Avery to be away from here and somewhere else that he feels safe. I was going to get him just after Kellan awakens." Their room had no differences other than a stack of papers in her writing and a large cup next to it. They stood out against the simple and organized fashion.

He nodded to the explanation and released her hand as he went to check on Kellan. The room felt strange in its absence of destruction or even the hint of it. Like an island of before in the tumult of after that surrounded them. "I will need to spend time with Keefe, Lyana, Sylvia, and Lord Llewellyn, who has offered his warband in this time."

He frowned and rubbed his hands over his face. It was a brief moment of showing her his frustration. "I should have been here. Here and there and fifteen other places at the same time." He turned away because he could feel the anger rising like a bubbling cauldron. Storm did not need or deserve it.
When he felt in control once more, he turned. "We have a few hours yet before I will need to be shut away with them." He reached to her and in the same way offered up whatever she might need of him.

She walked up next to him to look down at Kellan, whom seemed to be in a restful slumber. At his slim moment of frustration, Storm offered no words. She almost lifted a hand to rest on his shoulder, before letting it drop back to her side. He did not need her comfort while he sought control. Once he turned around, there was no hesitation to return to his arms. There was only a single sharp inhale when his hand found a bruise, but she shifted closer to him and the pain lifted.

"There is only one thing that I can tell you that I know the others will not." She rested her cheek against his shoulder, the posture so familiar that she unknowingly sighed in contentment. "I found a way to use my gift."

The study had become a whirlwind of reports coming and messages going as the Yransea seat of power strove for a swift recovery. Sylvia had maintained her battle attire, wearing the brigantine and the sword at her hip every day. Llewellyn looked uncomfortable the first day, but had the good reason not to question her. With Lyana in much the same attire, it was obvious those of Yransea had made some adjustments the men of the north had not.

"According to all our scouts, the area is clear, and with Ewan at the helm of those searches, I have a great deal more faith in their truth." Lyana grinned, though her tired face was pale.

Sylvia shared that confidence in a like smile and nodded. "What think you, Keefe? Have the renegades fallen back to their own homeland troubles?" A flicker of a glance toward Llew, as he had insisted her calling him. The messages in from the King's City was the warbands of King Maelgwn had marched to confront his rebellious cousin entrenched in the high hills of the northwestern baronies; baronies that included Llew's holdings.

Keefe dragged a hand through his hair and sighed. "Everything sign says they have, but I do not trust it just yet. Not with the brigands of your northern neighbor having no cause to join them there. To them, the task is not done. Yransea took their baron from them. It is not something they will forgive upon a first defeating, and a slim one at that."

With a resigned sigh Sylvia turned to scowl at the map laid out upon the desk once more. "We cannot keep Llew here when his own lands are in danger."

"We are still not in a position to defend these walls," Lyana countered with intensity raising the pitch of her voice.

Llew and Keefe shared a look. Sylvia had known the faces of commanders preparing to give her news she would not like. The expression was universal it would seem. "Out with it." Her heart was not in the mood for games.

"If we removed the reason for their attack, they would be less likely to do so. My lady, we think it best the entirety of your clan be removed to your world." Keefe said the words, but she was rather certain someone else had suggested the idea. Ewan might not have been present physically, but she felt his influence in the room all the same.

"What of Cian? If he is to remain, do not think I am going to leave him here."

"Cian, all of your family, the Queen, her sister...all of your family should go until our numbers are returned and the strength of this Keep fortified once more. We need you there because you," Keefe could not keep from chuckling, "would have the most battle experience and know that land best should the brigands follow."

The room was silent. That Lyana did not speak out against this convinced Sylvia she would have a difficult time swaying the three away from the plan. In truth, she could not deny the sense of it. Remove the cause of the attacks, namely Rian and her children and by extension her family, and Seansloe would have time to rebuild.

"Very well. Lyana, what difficulties will we have with Rian?"

"Few. She worries over Marghaid, as we all do, and hopefully, we will find some peace there. I have mentioned its possibility in passing, and she made no comment at all then. I hope there will be no great battle over it, for her sake as well as Marghaid's."

Sylvia had the same hope, but she looked each over and breathed a slow breath out. "Then we will begin. By this evening, the clan will be at Yearling Brook."

The irony of it all did not escape her, and a tired laugh trickled out of the corners of hard pressed lips.