Fortress of Eagles

He had warded the window. But Tassand and the servants warded him. Uwen came up with a load of his own baggage, refusing the servants who offered to carry it. All the men were seeking out baggage that had arrived, belongings parted with, simple things they had done without.

He went back to his writing, sat down at Lady Orien’s desk, and took up his pen.

I have taken Henas’amef and dislodged the lord viceroy, who killed unarmed men against my orders. Tasmôrden promised the earl of Meiden assistance against your army if the earl would seize and hold Amefel, which he had begun to do. Cuthan, warned by the letter from Ryssand which I sent Your Majesty, dissuaded the others at the last moment. Tasmôrden is occupied with Ilefinian, I am well sure, and would never have provided the help he promised: his aim was for Edwyll’s action here to distract you from the eastern approach you might make against his forces and to discourage Ylesuin from any relief that you might send to Ilefinian. So Tasmôrden would have time to take firmer hold of the town before the spring, and meanwhile Edwyll would wear down your forces and engage you to the south. His attempt has failed. I have exiled Lord Cuthan.

The town has been quiet for four days. I have taken the oaths from all the earls, and I have confirmed Meiden’s heir, Crissand, who will fill his father’s place. I regret the deaths of the earl’s men, as well as your honest messenger.

Meanwhile I have secured the archives, and I am learning what I need to know.

I wish Your Majesty very well and Her Grace also, and do not forget His Highness’s kindness.

A dragon sat on the desk beside it, a dragon that held the inkpot, and spread wings wide on either hand. On all sides were the green draperies, the Aswydd colors, and he did not know when, in the need for more important things, they might contrive to change them.

He set the quill back into the dragon’s claw, rolled the message and tied it with cord. Then he tipped red wax, red for Amefel, onto the cord and stamped it with the ring Cefwyn knew, no ducal seal. It was enough.

The apartment was very quiet, very still, in a lull of the servants’ traffic, the bronze-and-gilt dragons looming dark against the light of the window.

It was foolish, perhaps, to be afraid of them. They were metal. But he thought of the oak and the carving, and the constraint of the wood to be what it was not.

He thought of wings, and of his silly pigeons, and of Owl abroad in a snowy, winter world. At least he found his household in some order today, if he might say as much of master Emuin, of whom he could detect cold feet, cold hands, a cold nose, and the taste of tea.

EPILOGUE

Pearls shone in candlelight, and the bride looked up, a hint of violets. Cefwyn closed warm fingers in his own, half heard the droning of the Holy Father, the promised blessing. It was Ninévrisë that filled his eyes and shortly filled his arms. It was the custom to kiss a Guelen bride.

And Cefwyn soundly did.