Morwen felt like she had been turned to stone. She gaped at the great company assembled under her cousin's banner. It was a day's march from Arnach, perhaps longer with such a company. She dared not to think of what Gildis and Hareth would have to say about such a crowd. The food alone! Pain bloomed behind her eyes. Had planning the festival been so stressful for her parents?

Why hadn't Halmir sent forerunners to announce his party? Hardang had seldom brought more than a handful of his household to the feast. The discourtesy robbed her temporarily of breath.

She felt a presence at her back and turned her head slightly to see Gildis arriving as backup.

"Hail, Lady Morwen!"

Morwen and Gildis jumped as Halmir's voice boomed through the trees. Morwen tried not to cringe, half imagining the cherry blossoms showering down under the gale force of Halmir's greeting. With a flourish of his light riding cloak, he dismounted. One of the men on foot rushed forward to collect the reins. Hundor aped his older brother.

"Be welcome, kinsmen," she rejoined, after Gildis's knuckle dug into her back.

"Morwen, each year you are filled with more grace and beauty," said Halmir, perhaps reciting a line from one of his books.

Morwen blinked stupidly at her cousin, as if he had spoken to her in the gibberish of the Haradrim. She forced a tight-lipped smile onto her face after another dig from Gildis.

"Thank you," she said, dryly. "But you haven't said anything about the trees." She preferred compliments to her plantation rather than to her person. She couldn't help her looks and opinions varied, but the fruit trees spoke for themselves.

"Oh, the trees look the same every year." He chuckled indulgently. "What's there to say that hasn't been said already? Who could think of trees when you are in our presence?"

Stars! Was this over-courtesy in fashion in Minas Tirith? If so, Halmir had spent far too much time in that city and would benefit from permanent residence in Lossarnach where people spoke sensibly. Morwen exhaled slowly through her nose as a vent to her rising irritation before she turned her attention to Halmir's shadow.

"Greetings, Hundor," she said, evading a meaningless reply to Halmir's compliment.

Hundor glanced at her, nodded, then looked away, already bored. "Morwen," he mumbled in reply.

Halmir loosened the ties of his cloak and passed the garment on to another attendant, revealing the full splendor of his tunic. With the variety of tucks and embellishments, it would have taken quite some time to finish. The fabric she had returned would not have arrived in time, which suggested to Morwen's mind that Halmir meant for them to match. She felt queasy all of a sudden.

Morwen began to feel that all the eyes of Halmir's train were upon them. It distressed her. What would they do with them all?

"Never has this valley seen such a turnout from Arnach," she said. "I am a little surprised. The keep must have emptied itself out for such a simple gathering."

"A show of goodwill," said Halmir, good-humoredly, sailing right under Morwen's subtle reproach. "Our houses have too often existed side by side as indifferent neighbors."

"The better part of a day's journey is not quite side-by-side," she remarked.

Halmir gave her a condescending smile. "To one who rarely travels, it must seem like a distance. Compared to the great extent of Gondor, however, we are next door neighbors," he told her. "Let us begin a new age of kinship as if the valley walls between our lands were but little more than a garden hedge."

Morwen shared a glance with Gildis. She hadn't thought relations between the her home and Arnach were in need of repair.

"What does he mean by it?" Gildis whispered in Morwen's ear.

Morwen shrugged.

"As a pledge, we have brought gifts of wine to be shared out and goods from Arnach."

Halmir had thought of that, at least, she groused. Although too much wine and not enough meat made poor table companions. Morwen had a brief image of her guests dancing on the tables and brawling under the trees. Oh stars, she thought.

"How thoughtful," was what she said, however. "Let us find places for our new guests."

Beldir appeared before them with Gladhon and Gundor. Morwen directed Gundor to show the grooms were to lead away the horses. With the lords of Arnach temporarily distracted with their belongings, the overseer took the opportunity to speak with her.

"What does Lord Halmir mean by this?" Beldir grumbled so only their little circle could hear.

"I don't know. Something about good will between houses," she murmured, voice dry as bones. "They may tell us more once they've settled."

Beldir's frown deepened. "I don't like it."

"I'm sure none of us do," put in Gildis, "but we'll have to manage and quickly."

Beldir left with Gladhon to find a way to improvise more seating and Gildis to consult with Hareth over the food and tableware. Morwen remained at the gate with her uneasiness, which had grown since she first noticed her cousins riding down the greenway.

True, she was not on as cordial of terms with Halmir and Hundor as she had been with Hardang, and even that was a bit formal. After all, Hardang had been fifteen years older. Yet, it amazed her that their presence here could cast such a pall over the festival. Whatever Halmir's words of goodwill, his actions had created the opposite effect. She watched him closely as he addressed the men tasked with hauling the gifts over the long miles. To her dismay, she noticed they all carried large packs which surely contained more than wine and cheese.

Halmir and Hundor's gifts of wine, cheese, and expensive imported nuts were distributed among the food tables, while the crowd of men spread out among the guests.

Leaving the gate to view Beldir's progress, Morwen waded through the line of tables approaching the dais. She saw the high chairs there and remembered that she had another guest to think about. The commotion caused by her kinsmen had driven Prince Thengel and his men right out of reckoning. She turned back toward the gate and saw him only just entering with Cenhelm and Thurstan. The guardians helped support a hobbling Guthere, who looked pale but in good spirits. A conspicuous red scarf had been tied around his head. In conjunction with the scratches and bruises, he looked like a highwayman being carried to justice between two deputies.

"My lord Thengel," she called as she approached through the crush of axmen. "Gentlemen, be welcome."

Prince Thengel's eyes swept past her, over the crowd, then back again and lingered. She felt their weight and wondered at it. Perhaps he had looked for the threadbare apron dress she usually wore?

He stepped away from his men to speak with her, but Gladhon stepped between her and the prince, blocking her view.

"My lady, Beldir and I fitted up a few sawhorses with some spare planks we found in the wagon. The rest will have to sit on the ground."

"Thank you, Gladhon. You've been quite industrious."

Gladhon smiled. "Anything to help Lossemeren go as smoothly as possible for you."

Prince Thengel tapped Gladhon on the shoulder. "Guthere needs a blanket. Run and fetch it, will you?"

"Er…yes," Gladhon stammered. He bowed to Morwen. "Excuse me."

They watched Gladhon retreat through the orchard at a fast clip.

"I hope Guthere isn't suffering from cold?" she said.

Prince Thengel looked bemused. "What? Oh. No. Not terribly. It's just a precaution."

"Good. I'd hate for Guthere not to enjoy the feast after all he went through." She glanced around at the press of people and worried. "But perhaps it's a little overcrowded for a convalescent?"

"Maybe. I didn't think it would be a problem. But then you had deceived me, Lady Morwen," he said with a smile. "From your talk I assumed this would be a small community affair. Now I see half of Lossarnach assembled."

Morwen bit the inside of her cheek. "It is getting away from me somewhat," she admitted. Like a mudslide.

He looked down at her hands and belatedly she realized she was wringing them. She hid them behind her back, then blushed at her foolish behavior. But Prince Thengel glanced up at the trees, face politely blank.

"No fear," he said to the branches. Then he looked at her again and winked.

She returned his smile, feeling a rush of gratitude toward the prince. If he found the situation amusing, then perhaps it must be. He had come out the side of true disasters, and this wasn't one of them. Thank the stars Halmir and his men were only here the one night.

"The orchard looks exception today," Prince Thengel said, though he was looking at her and not the trees.

"They're the best part." Morwen couldn't help beaming proudly. "Though wait till the sun begins to go down and the lanterns are lit. Now, we'd better have you all seated. I've saved a table for your men over here near the dais. I'm afraid you'll feel a little left out, surrounded by people you don't know. Although, there is one acquaintance of yours."

Prince Thengel's head tipped to the side, curious. "Really? Who?"

"You remember the artist, Teitherion?"

Prince Thengel slewed around in alarm, as if the man were behind him. "Where?"

Morwen laughed. "Don't worry, he's tied to Gildis's apron strings over by the wine barrels."

He turned back to Morwen with an exasperated expression. "You know, I think you managed to frighten me. That's not an easy thing to do."

"I am sorry," she said without meaning it. "I thought you might want to renew the acquaintance."

"No, thank you."

"Well, then, come with me."

Beldir and Gladhon had been busy. A patchwork of blankets had been hastily spread out on the ground between precarious looking tables made of sawhorses and loose planks. Morwen motioned for the prince and his men to follow her toward a trestle table near the dais. Morwen helped pull out a high-backed chair, wrapped in garlands, placed at the table especially for Guthere. The others would share the benches on either side.

"We are so glad to see you up and about that some of the kitchen girls fitted up this seat for you," Morwen told Guthere with a warm smile. "You are one of my guests of honor, but I won't make you sit at the high table. It's a little disconcerting to have everyone staring at you," she confided.

Despite his rough appearance, the warrior blushed to his roots and seemed unable to reply as long as she smiled at him. She noticed Prince Thengel rolling his eyes.

The next table over was full of men from Arnach. Some of the Gondorians seemed to recognize Prince Thengel and his men. They called out greetings to one another and Cenhelm and Thurstan drifted over to talk, which relieved Morwen's mind somewhat. Some of the guests were enjoying the chaos, at least.

She touched Prince Thengel's arm to get his attention just as he tried to take a seat on the bench next to Guthere. He turned away from the table, giving her his full attention.

"Come, we have a place for you on the dais."

Morwen couldn't be certain, but she thought she saw him glance at Guthere, Thurstan, and Cenhelm's places with regret. She ignored the expression. It wouldn't do to leave a prince sitting at the table while lesser men sat in places of honor. What were scholars and…and whatever it was Hundor did with his time…compared to princes?

Hareth had arranged platters of food over the high table. Her cousins had ascended the dais and were puzzling over the chairs. Thengel followed a little ways behind her as she approached.

"But where is Prince Adrahil?" Halmir asked ask she drew near. "He usually arrives early, does he not?"

"Adrahil could not attend," Morwen answered. Thengel came around her side. "But I have another guest. Prince Thengel, here are Lord Hardang's brothers, Halmir and Hundor."

"Lord Ecthelion's lieutenant," said Hundor with a trace of wonder. "My brother served with you before he died."

"The same," said Thengel gravely. "I intended to travel to Arnach to honor Lord Hardang, but I was delayed."

Halmir gave Morwen a considering look, but he did not dare to ask how she had managed to receive a foreign prince as guest and for what purpose said prince should delay his journey in a backwoods place like Imloth Melui.

"Yes," Halmir replied. "I had heard something of this." He smiled, though it wasn't exactly nice. "The courier told my steward when a certain parcel was returned to me."

Morwen swallowed, tried to say something conciliatory, then gave up.

Halmir pretended to overlook it. He addressed the prince. "We hope to have the honor of receiving you soon at Arnach. It would be a balm in our brother's absence. Would it not, Hundor?"

"A balm, my lord," Hundor replied with an ironic bow of his head, clearly mocking his brothers choice of words.

Morwen saw the prince's eyes hood over and she felt distinctly that her headache had settled in for the long haul.

"That is also my hope. But are you not perhaps joining Ecthelion in Minas Tirith after the festival?" Prince Thengel said conversationally. "He means to return to Ithilien soon."

Halmir's color changed several times. "No, Lord. I have no intentions of returning to Minas Tirith. We simply came to visit our kinswoman."

"With half of Hardang's men at arms?" Prince Thengel asked, his voice threaded with disbelief.

Morwen shifted her wait from foot to foot, uncomfortable by the sudden tension Prince Thengel's conversation had created, and uncertain of how to direct the situation.

The red in Halmir's cheeks contrasted terribly with the yellow of his tunic. "The Lord of Lossarnach's men, yes."

Prince Thengel inclined his head. "My mistake."

"My lady!" Hareth approached with a ewer of wine for the head table. "We need your help with the wine. It'll take all day to share it out to this crowd." The cook didn't bother hiding the iron notes of disapproval in her voice.

"Excuse me." Morwen ducked away feeling relieved yet guilty for leaving the prince at her kinsmen's mercy. Or would it be the other way around?

As she ducked away after the cook, Morwen cursed Adrahil's feeble wife for depriving her of her accustomed shield, especially as she might have lent Adrahil's support to Prince Thengel. But now she had to turn her attention to serving her guests before the blessing and hope that even without Adrahil's diplomatic presence, the tension would dissipate between her guests of honor. But, the last thing she heard was the prince addressing Halmir.

"If not now, when do you intended to join Ecthelion's men in Ithilien with this healthy show of warriors?"

Morwen hazarded a glance over her shoulder to see Halmir's response to this indirect command.

Halmir looked as if he tasted sour wine.

Hirwen's Lossemeren tradition had been to serve the poorest first, building her way up to the guests of honor. When questioned about this practice, she had merely said that it was the one day out of the year that the hardest working of her folk received consideration for their toil, while the privileged waited on them.

Morwen, with the help of Gildis and Hareth, poured wine for the guests, starting with the besotted goatherd and her giggling scullery maid, moving around until finally she served Halmir and Thengel, and their people. She filled glasses for Gildis and Hareth, then finally her own.

Stepping onto the dais, Morwen found the swath of faces turned toward her in expectation. Last year, her father had stood quite tall and visibly healthy in this exact spot to deliver the blessing. Morwen swallowed. For a terrible moment she forgot what she was going to say, couldn't even remember what her father used to say.

Morwen took a discrete breath and allowed her mind to relax. She felt it open and the words came back to her.

"Be welcome, my neighbors and new friends also."

They murmured back to her in kind.

"Today we thank the sun for renewed warmth and light that fills these orchards with good things. We ask a blessing over the land, for the hope of buds, and the promise of fruit to come."

Morwen raised her glass to drink the blessing of spring, though she couldn't help but feel that the breeze coming down from the mountain had a remnant of winter chill in it now. The company drank and then picnic hampers were opened and food shared out.

When she turned around to face the table, she found her three guests of honor watching her. The prince began to say something but Halmir cut him off.

"Well said, my dear," he said loud enough for the first few tables to overhear. "You have your father's gift of eloquence."

"Hardly that," she replied as she came around the table. Her father had been a trained orator in the habit of speaking for the Steward. What a ridiculous comparison.

Morwen sat down feeling the enjoyment of the feast sharply decreased. Her cousin's congeniality embarrassed her. And whatever the prince had meant to say, he seemed little inclined to repeat now.

Halmir aside, instead of enjoying the company, she worried about having enough to go around. Halmir's men had walked all day, would be starving, and would not, therefore, be leaving soon. She was hard-pressed to think of places to keep them, let alone feed them. Had Halmir thought of that?

Prince Thengel dropped a spoon, recalling her attention to the prince. He had grown strangely reserved since he had first stepped into the orchard. The genial smile disappeared behind a vague frown. She wondered what had passed between her guests in her absence.

Food would help, if she didn't allow herself to become too distracted to perform her duties as hostess. Morwen inventoried the variety of foods on the table before them. Meat pies, spring greens, jellies, cheeses. The real bounty wouldn't arrive until later in the year, but Hareth had done well.

"Pie?" Morwen offered.

"Please," Prince Thengel replied stiffly, holding out his plate while she served out a wedge minced pork in a pastry shell from the plate in front of her.

Morwen glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. His face revealed nothing.

"My lord, are you well?" she murmured. "Is there anything that you lack?"

His eyes met hers and she nearly recoiled. His expression might be inscrutable, but his eyes conveyed a barely concealed rage she had not expected. He turned away sharply. Oh dear. What had Halmir done or said in her absence?

"Something has offended you," she whispered. "I hope it wasn't me."

"No," he said, as if he were swallowing bitter herbs. A little afterward he managed a gentler tone. "You are beyond reproach."

She waited for him to elaborate.

"Your cousins and I do not see eye to eye on matters of duty, that is all," he said.

Morwen tried to reply, but then she felt something warm on her left wrist - Halmir's finger. Removing her hand from the armrest to her lap, she turned sharp eyes on him.

"This is a special occasion, lady," Halmir murmured in her ear. He had to lean a good deal over the his armrest to do it.

"So you said when you arrived," she replied, leaning away from him. "And while Lossemeren is certainly my favorite time of year, I am still puzzled by this…" she waved at the company. "Grand gesture."

"Forget Lossemeren for a moment." He looked into her eyes. "Can you not guess what greater occasion there might be?"

"No," she said without trying. Morwen looked at her wine glass and had the distinct impression she wanted what was inside of it. She reached for the ewer to refill it.

"So I have doubly surprised you."

"You have," Morwen replied. A self-satisfied smile spread over his face and Morwen couldn't help adding, "Doubly surprised that Ferneth found you so indispensable during this dark time."

If the barb hit home, Halmir didn't show it, though his face did sag in belated gloom.

"We regretted the loss of two to your feast this year. First, Hardang, then my sister-in-law. For Arnach to miss it completely would be negligent," Halmir said as he held out his glass for her to refill since she already had the ewer in hand. She felt an old, childlike urge not to share. Her cousins did have a way of provoking her to behave like her lesser self.

"Doubly grievous," Hundor added blandly.

"I would have understood. Hardang was your brother, after all," she told them. Halmir looked as grieved as a fox in a warren. Hundor looked like he wanted more wine if only she would finish with the ewer.

"Naturally you would, Morwen. You always were sympathetic." Halmir swirled the wine in his glass in wistful contemplation. "You see, my sister-in-law has gone into almost complete isolation since the birth of her son, even so far as to cut us off. Ferneth communicates with one or two of her servants who manage the household. Her mourning is deep."

All the more reason for you to stay at home, Morwen thought. Ferneth had given birth to her first son a little over a week after the news of her husband's death. That had been over a month ago, but a stranger wouldn't have known it by looking at her cousins and their company.

"Is she the only one who grieves?" Morwen heard Thengel say. His profile revealed little as he stared out over the guests, but something in his tone made the fine hairs rise on her arms. "I did not think the Lord of Lossarnach would be so soon forgotten by his followers."

Morwen appreciated then her strategic, if somewhat precarious, position between the prince and her cousins. Precarious in that she had mistaken Thengel's love of books and courtesy for the sort of intelligent softness she had expected in her father. This voice belonged to Ecthelion's right-hand lieutenant, she thought. Let that teach her to make such a mistake about this soldier again.

"Not forgotten, I'm sure," she soothed, though it little pleased her to have to play the diplomat between her guests. Adrahil would have performed that task better. "You mistake my cousins. They would not wish to dampen my celebration. Lossemeren comes but once a year."

Morwen didn't dare look at Prince Thengel to see if his fury had abated at all. Her words had been a hint and a reminder to both sides. Don't spoil the day.

Halmir leaned deeply into the table to see around Morwen's shoulders, and thus, the man who had spoken to him in a manner he was not accustomed to - except by Hardang. He cleared his throat.

"We have not forgotten my honored brother, Prince Thengel. Nor do we come simply to make merry. We have come for a purpose. That is, I have."

Something in his tone caught her attention and would not let go. She stared at Halmir.

"What purpose?"

Halmir eased back into his seat, pleased to have her attention. "Well, amongst other things, to survey the management of the plantation. To view your progress and to praise it."

"Or to suggest improvement," Hundor added. "Halmir has a few ideas about that."

"Hush, Hundor," Halmir admonished. Hundor shrugged.

Morwen arched a freshly plucked eyebrow. "I think you'll find that the transition in the management of Bar-en-Ferin has gone remarkably smooth," she told them with a hint of acid in her tone.

"You've had a good start," Halmir conceded. "But you've completely overlooked the valley's potential. Granted, it has only been a year." He took a sip of wine before continuing. "Hardang had a hands-off approach as a landlord, which had its points. Yet, it would be remiss of the Lord of Lossarnach if he failed to guide a young woman - a tenant and a kinswoman no less - now that her father and mother have passed."

Morwen pushed her plate away and turned completely in her chair to face Halmir. "So, you and your men have come to help me improve the plantation?" The tone in her voice had turned icy. "You've become an expert on orchards since you've returned from Minas Tirith? A city noted for its dead tree."

Halmir looked at her in a way she was not accustomed to be looked at. She thought his eyes missed little, and yet, he saw what he wanted to see despite evidence to the contrary. In this case, she supposed he saw a helpless girl like Ioneth, begging for guidance. It made her regret the stupid dress Gildis has roped her into.

"Morwen, I've been considering how Imloth Melui might fit into a scheme of mine that goes beyond the scope of this little garden of yours."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at the slight to her orchard. Little garden! "What scheme?" she asked.

"As you know, I have a great many friends in Minas Tirith."

"Do I know that?" she asked innocently. "How nice of you to have friends."

Halmir glowered. "Morwen, listen. As you also know, summers in Minas Tirith are hot —"

"Well, what did you expect with all that stone," she retorted, having no great opinion of Minas Tirith. "Of course—"

Halmir grasped her wrist. "Please don't interrupt. As I was saying, summers are hot and don't mention the fumes from the east."

"I won't," she grumbled, freeing her arm.

"It's all very well for the wealthy," Halmir said without hearing her. "They can sail off to Belfalas for a month or two. But what about the merchant class, for instance?"

"What about them?"

"Where can they afford to go, I ask you?"

Morwen shrugged. "That's none of my business."

"But it could be," Halmir said brightly.

"I don't comprehend you."

Halmir gave his brother a significant look, which made Morwen bristle all over.

"Look, Minas Tirith is barely a day's ride from Imloth Melui. People already travel this way to refresh themselves. With a little boost to the infrastructure, this valley could be a popular summering place for those who can't afford the luxuries of Dol Amroth."

Morwen didn't know what she found more distasteful. The traffic of strangers up and down the greenway or altering her dear valley in any way.

"What changes do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Put in a proper road, for one," Hundor chimed in.

Morwen stared. "Absolutely not. You won't lay a single brick on the greenway."

"We'll leave the road alone, Hundor. It has a certain quaintness that might endear travelers," Halmir conceded. "But consider the other possibilities."

Hundor raised his glass. "And the profit."

"Profit or no, I'm sorry to say that you've wasted a journey if that was your intent," Morwen told them, returning to her former position in her seat. "Beldir has provided excellent guidance and we are quite happy with business as is. We do not need Minas Tirith's population tramping over Bar-en-Ferin."

"Don't turn your nose up at a little extra profit, Morwen. There's nothing wrong with striking out into new markets. Some would call it wise."

"I don't know about this so-called wisdom of yours, Halmir, but I know my home. This isn't a hobby farm. It takes all our resources just to keep Bar-en-Ferin running. What you envision simply isn't possible, even if it were desired."

Halmir leaned forward again, addressing Prince Thengel. "Alas, stubbornness runs in the family, you know. We all want to do just as we please."

The Prince stared stonily ahead as if he had not heard a word of the conversation between cousins. He remained silent.

Halmir's voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't say I'm wholly satisfied with what I see here," he said for Morwen's benefit only. "And I'm distressed to find that you so headstrong. To dismiss counsel is a vice of youth."

"To give advice unasked is another sign," Morwen retorted. "Sorry to disappoint your purpose for coming."

Halmir smiled then. "Oh, that is not my only reason."

"What more could you have?" Morwen rolled her eyes, realizing she had just provided Halmir the means to extend the uncomfortable conversation.

"Surely you must know after the gift I sent you."

"On the contrary, I could not puzzle out what you meant by it," she snapped. "Which is why I sent it back.

A shadow passed over Halmir's face. "So you did. And that is how I came to find out that you were harboring the exiled prince without our knowledge."

He sounded displeased, but why should he be?

"I may receive my own guests," she told him frankly, "without deferring to you."

"For now, Morwen," Halmir replied. "But times change and you of all people know how suddenly."

Morwen stared ahead, temporarily robbed of speech. Certainly he meant the abrupt death of her father, if not Hardang. She felt like Halmir had dug his thumb into a bruise that refused to heal. Next year Arnach would not receive an invitation, she felt certain. Not if her cousins continued to treat her with such disrespect.

Prince Thengel cleared his throat. "I was wondering, Lady Morwen, how you manage to keep the birds from eating all the cherries once they come in."

The abrupt change in conversation temporarily derailed Morwen.

"The birds?" she asked.

"I don't know much about it," he said, "But I came across some essays on husbandry in your father's study. Do you not consider them pests?"

She exhaled softly, relieved for a distraction and pleased that the prince had exerted some control over his temper, as well. Even if it meant discussing the minutia of fruit trees.

"Years ago my mother had mulberry bushes planted near the orchard. They ripen with the cherries and the birds seem to prefer their fruit. Beldir has experimented with bird feeders, as well. We fill the feeders with seed to distract the birds from the fruit."

"How do you get any mulberries then?" he said thoughtfully. "On the Pelennor, I understand some farmers use netting to protect the trees. Have you not observed that on your travels between Arnach and Minas Tirith, Lord Halmir?"

Halmir shrugged. "Maybe."

"Do they?" Morwen frowned contemptuously. "But the bird only want food and we benefit from them, in turn. They help keep the insects down, so we supply another source of food and hope it will lessen the amount they take from our crops. I can't abide seeing them trapped in the netting. It's cruel. We never use that method here."

Prince Thengel nodded. "So, you would says it's a live and let live philosophy you practice in your own fields in Lossarnach?"

"Certainly at Ber-en-Ferin."

"Is netting used anywhere in Lossarnach?" Prince Thengel asked Halmir.

"How should I know?" Halmir replied sullenly. "I don't canvas every orchard in the fief. Farmers are free to do as they please."

Only belatedly did Morwen consider that Prince Thengel might have been making a point. She poured him the rest of the wine.

...

AN: Many thanks to Thanwen and Anna for advice and critters.