Chapter 27 Knight, Interrupted
Usual disclaimer and note: All of the characters other than a bear and paladin lovin' ranger belong to Obsidian and a whole lot of other people. A few snippets of dialog are paraphrased from the NWN2 OC.
I've taken some of the aspects of the knighting ceremony from various web sites and books such as Life in a Medieval Castle.
Dee nudged Blossom and rode closer to Sir Nevalle. The knight pulled back lightly on his horse's reins and looked at her quizzically, and she whispered, "I saw a flash of somethin' up ahead, and that shady bend in the road is a likely place for an ambush."
He nodded and replied quietly, "I must speak to Lord Nasher about extending patrols out here. I suppose two riders would make a tempting target even if we are armed." He took the lead again, wishing that he had insisted she don chain mail at the very least instead of her leather brigandine, nudging his horse and edging his sword out of its sheath so he could take the lead and protect her. But then he thought better of it. She was no frail damsel needing his protection. He had seen her on the practice field, and he reminded himself that Lord Nasher had decided she was worthy to become his peer.
Dee had spent time over the winter training with her Master of Horse, learning to guide Blossom with her knees to leave her hands free to fight. They had set up a gauntlet of practice dummies in one of the fields and made a contest out of trying to score the most hits in the shortest time. Casavir usually won because none of their horses were as aggressive in a charge as Thunder. But she was satisfied they could all fight mounted if need be.
She looped the reins around the pommel and casually slipped her hands to her sword hilts and followed the knight. They rode around the bend and came on what appeared to be a merchant's cart in a rut beside the road. A team of gray mules grazed placidly in the grass nearby. Two burly chainmail clad men, both armed with long swords, had just replaced a broken wheel which still lay in the road, as the elderly merchant, huddled in his cloak, looked on. Was he huddled against the evening chill, or was he hiding weapons under his cloak? She had learned to be cautious and tried to control her caution so it didn't become paranoia.
They rode up alongside, and Sir Nevalle asked graciously, "My good man, do you require any assistance?"
He looked up at the knight and smiled broadly, revealing a mouth full of gold teeth. "Thank you, my lord! I think the lads got it, but mayhap you could help us push it back on the road, and we'll pray to Waukeen that we make it to Neverwinter before the cottle pin gives out again."
Sir Nevalle swung his leg over and dismounted gracefully and knelt to check the wheel. He nodded at Dee as one of the guards fastened the broken wheel under the cart. Dee peered into the brush looking for anyone hiding there then swung her leg over and slid off Blossom and joined the others behind the cart to push. Four of them made short work of it, and soon the merchant was leading the reluctant mules back to their harnesses.
Dee leaned close to the knight before they mounted their horses. "Could we escort them to the city?"
Sir Nevalle replied curtly, "He has two guards, and we simply do not have the time. I'm sorry, but we must get to Neverwinter. Let's be off!" He thrust his foot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle and spurred his horse on before Dee could argue, and Dee rolled her eyes and muttered, "Wish the hells I knew what was so damned important that we can't observe common courtesy." She called an apologetic "Good eve" to the merchant, mounted her horse and nudged her to catch up to Nevalle.
They would have to stop before long anyway as evening was fast approaching and heavy clouds were gathering on the horizon, threatening rain before the night was out. A fast horse could make the trip from Crossroad Keep to Neverwinter in just a day, but they had gotten a late start. Dee had listened for the sound of horses coming behind them, but they had too much of a head start for Casavir or any of her companions to catch up, and even if they did, she knew he would keep his distance out of respect for Nevalle's mysterious orders.
They didn't stop until a few hours more had passed, far into the evening, and by then they were picking their way along by the light of an ingenious lamp Sand had crafted by casting a Light spell on a coin, then a Permanency spell, then putting the coin in a silver tube with removable caps on the end, which focused the light in a narrow beam. It wasn't perfect, but Selune was waning tonight and it beat risking the horses stumbling in the dark. Nevalle lay out their bedrolls as Dee led the horses to a nearby stream to water them and brushed them down. It was difficult to stand watch when there were only the two of them, and she had sent Cillian back to Meilikki's care. Dee offered to take first watch; the god of sleep had been a stranger to her since Shandra's death. They put up an oilcloth tarp to provide cover from the rain and shared a simple meal of cold venison, cheese, and bread packed for them by the cook.
Dee walked a circuit of their campsite until Selune's crescent was high above the horizon. She knelt beside the knight and put her hand on his shoulder to awaken him. He grinned and reached for her arm and mumbled something in his sleep. For a fleeting moment, Dee could have sworn he said "Torio." She arched an eyebrow, but that notion was too ridiculous for words. Everyone knew he was more than Nasher's right arm, though there were rumors whispered around that his being sent to babysit her at Crossroads Keep signaled a cooling in their relationship. She waited until he had relieved himself and returned to their camp then slipped into her bedroll as he stretched and took a quaff of water.
She finally fell into an exhausted and thankfully dreamless sleep from which he awakened her far too soon just at dawn. She murmured, "Cas, where's my kiss..." then blushed profusely as she opened her eyes and saw Sir Nevalle smirking at her and realized where she was. She stretched the sleep from her limbs and joined him in a quick breakfast of bread, apples, and cheese, and then they washed their faces and cleaned their teeth in the stream. She readied their horses for the road while he broke down camp. He had changed into a spotless tabard, though it wouldn't be spotless by the time they reached the city, she thought wryly.
She looked at him then at her own mud-stained clothes. "Sir Nevalle, I was hopin' that I would have time to bathe and change my clothes at my uncle's tavern before we go to Castle Never. I don't want to put on my clean tabard until we reach the city, and I only have the two." She thought, "Unlike the dozen you no doubt have stashed in your Magic Bag."
He said cryptically, "You will have time to bathe. It's been arranged."
She shrugged. "I don't usually pack anything but clean small clothes and socks and a change of shirt and trewes in my travel pack, and I don't know if what I have is fine enough to wear for an audience with Lord Nasher. Will I have time to go by the shops?"
He smiled tightly. "That can wait, Captain. I sent Wolf with a letter for Kana explaining the reason for your absence and also a note to your chamberlain to pack something suitable."
They arrived late in the morning on a bustling market day. He looked at the great clock in the tower near the Dolphin bridge as they waited to cross and muttered, "Excellent. We're a bit early." It was strange speaking casually with him as they rode slowly through the crowded city streets. Conversation had been nearly impossible considering the pace he had set though she wasn't in a mood for it anyway, and even when they rested, there hadn't more than a perfunctory exchange between them before they each surrendered to sleep.
Dee felt eyes on her and looked around until she spotted a tall woman with short pale hair, paler even than hers, so pale it was nearly white. She wore the armor of a warrior, a great sword on her right hip, and had a regal bearing with distinct aasimar markings on her face. Dee acknowledged her scrutiny and nodded in silent reply before asking him, "Do you know that woman over there? I'd guess she's a paladin from the looks of her, but I've not seen her before."
Sir Nevalle glanced in the direction she indicated. "No, I can't say I've ever seen her before either. Why do you ask?"
"I don't know. I I have a funny feeling is all, and she's been staring pretty intently at me. Or mayhap she's staring at you." She chuckled as he snorted but ran his hand through his hair. They rode on, but she couldn't put the woman out of her mind as they traveled.
They rode past a merchant who sold men's clothing. She muttered, "Oh that reminds me, I need to buy Cas a new cloak." With those words she was suddenly overcome by a few loud sobs followed by a cascade of tears. These sudden storms of grief had passed over her from time to time as suddenly as a spring shower since Shandra's death, and they ended just as quickly. Sir Nevalle rode closer to her and patted her shoulder uncomfortably. Dee composed herself as pedestrians gawked at them, and they rode on. She explained briefly how Shandra had been wrapped in Casavir's cloak as they fled Jerro's Haven, and now it served as her shroud as well. "I..it was awful. I wanted to lay her out proper, but her body was burnt and already...decomposing and sticking to the cloak. So we wrapped her back up in it and lay her in the coffin as she was."
He patted her shoulder again with less obvious discomfort as his eyes clouded with painful memories. "I too have used a few cloaks to cover fallen comrades. The last time I used one to cover Melia...I didn't want anyone to see her like that. She had been so beautiful...She was badly burned too. I've never seen anything like it." He blinked then as he suddenly recalled where he had seen, or rather heard, a description that matched the stranger Dee had been arguing with at the tavern. He sat up with a start. "My gods! That stranger in the inn. That was he! The very warlock leading the fiends who killed her!"
Dee nodded as they turned into Castle Never's stables. "Yes, the same. He was tossing us around his inner sanctum like so many leaves in the wind when I caught a good look at him as I slammed into the wall, and I realized that he and Shandra had the same eyes. Funny thing to think about when you're just about to be murdered, but I did. Turns out it was Ammon Jerro himself!" She explained what she had learned about the former court wizard and the reason why he was joining their campaign rather than rotting in the gaol awaiting trial, as he should be by rights. "I don't like it, but Zhjaeve says we can't hope to defeat the King of Shadows without using the powers granted by the Ritual of Purification, and since the shadow reavers destroyed the last statue in the swamp and Jerro possesses a portion of the ritual's power..."
Sir Nevalle nodded grimly as he dismounted and slung his rucksack over his shoulder. "I see, and you are right. We need him, at least for now. I must inform Lord Nasher of this development. Keep his identity and what you've told me to yourself, however. Otherwise the families of his victims will undoubtedly press Lord Nasher to bring him to justice, and I fear he will feel compelled to do so. There are far too many on the Council, the majority I'm afraid, who are not convinced of the threat of the King of Shadows and think we should be paying more attention to finishing the rebuilding from the war with Luskan, or making sure we are protected from a future attack through forming solid alliances."
He handed his reins to a stable girl and indicated that Dee was to do the same. She handed Blossom's reins over, gave her a fond pat, shouldered her rucksack and followed. She wondered why they were going in through the back entrance, but she figured the fastidious knight wanted to clean up before their audience with Lord Nasher as much as she did, and probably more so. They entered the castle through an entrance Dee had never seen, walking through the stables, then through a small practice yard bordered by a kitchen garden, then through the scullery, where the startled cooking staff halted in their work and watched them as they passed. He sent a serving girl to inform Lord Nasher's chamberlain they had arrived and led Dee to a narrow iron spiral staircase that Dee guessed was used by servants to travel out of sight between the levels of the castle.
They climbed down a level into the basement. This floor was used for cold storage of meats and the creamery as well as providing housing for some of the servants. Dee imagined the dungeon was probably a level lower still, and there were rumors that Lord Never's tomb was somewhere below too, but the way to it was forgotten. Sir Nevalle took a candle from a shelf and led her down a dark, cool hallway then finally paused before a rough wooden door. He knocked once then lifted the latch and gestured for her to enter.
She was beginning to think he hadn't led her here solely to wash and change her clothes and swallowed nervously before she entered the small candlelit chamber, which contained a narrow bed and a bath filled with steaming water. Pungent incense smoldered on a brazier. One of the servants was pouring a vial of oil into the water, and her newest squire sister, a fresh-faced blond girl of only seventeen, was waiting beside the tub blushing and grinning at her. Dee swallowed again and stared wide-eyed at Sir Nevalle. "What does this mean?" One of her squire brothers had been knighted last fall, and so she was acquainted with the trappings of the ritual. But surely this wasn't for her!
He smiled coyly then answered her in a booming voice that would make a herald proud. "Yes, this is for you, Squire Dierdre Farlong. His Excellency, Lord Nasher Alagondar is pleased with your service in restoring his lands at Crossroads Keep and has thus seen fit to bestow upon you the honor of knighthood." He knelt and opened a chest and withdrew a long sword with an ornate jeweled hilt and a folded cloak and handed them to her. "These are yours to wear during the ceremony as symbols of your new station. The finest weavers of the city create these cloaks, and you will find it bears many useful enchantments." He took a breath before he continued. "This cloak is lined with red, so that you may remember always that your blood may be shed in Neverwinter's service. Squire Jessime is here to assist you with the bath, which symbolizes the washing away of your past. I sent word that your chamberlain was to pack your best white chemise, which you will don after your bath to wear during your vigil as a symbol of humility. White is also worn to symbolize purity of mind and purpose."
Jessime stepped forward and handed her some new black hose and a shield-shaped silk banner painted with her heraldry and said her part shyly, "Take these as gifts from your fellow squires. The banner will be hung in Lord Nasher's great hall along with those of your peers. Take these hose too. They are black as reminders of death that awaits us all and...and..." She bit her lip and blushed deeper and shot a nervous look at Sir Nevalle then blurted out, "Oh! And that you walk on the ground you will lie under." She curtsied and stepped back with her hands behind her back staring intently at the floor.
Dee stared, dumbstruck and took them and set them on the chair beside the bath. She finally found her voice and asked Sir Nevalle, "But...why me? I don't deserve this honor."
He would have agreed with her not too very long ago, but since he had been stationed at the Keep, he had observed a growing grace in the squire, certainly volumes more than she possessed when he first met her at her uncle's tavern before her trial. "Lord Nasher Alagondar has deemed you worthy of this honor, and that is all that matters. As a matter of fact, to deny this honor is a form of treason. Low treason, but treason nonetheless. Therefore, take your bath, and Squire Jessime will lead you to the chamber where your vigil is to be held. There you will listen to the advice of the peers of the realm, and they will instruct you on chivalry and the duties of your new station. After your vigil, you will be taken to a meditation chamber to change and spend time in prayer until we come for you for the ceremony." He bowed sharply and turned on his heel and left before she had a chance to say another word.
She stared at the door still stunned at his words until her sister squire touched her arm and cleared her throat to get her attention. Dee lay her spectacles down on top of the chest, undressed, and stepped into the wooden tub and slowly eased herself into the hot water. Dried rose petals and lavender buds and oil scented with jasmine had been added to the water, and she lay back and closed her eyes breathed in the scent deeply. It was delightful. She washed her hair with a bar of fine silky soap that had an exotic smell she couldn't identify, but she thought that now she knew what "luxurious" was.
She could have stayed there all day, but the servant was waiting with a bucket of water to rinse her, and her sister squire was standing by with a towel, so she dunked her head under then stood and poured the bucket over herself and got out. She reluctantly accepted their help in drying off and putting on her clean chemise (her only long chemise, bought to wear under the white robe she wore at her trial). Then they combed her hair, making her feel rather foolish the whole time. She pulled on the hose and fastened the garters and her sister squire smiled at her and opened the door. "Are you ready? Unc..I mean Sir Nevalle is probably tapping his foot and watching the waterclock."
Dee chuckled lightly. Now that she thought about it, the girl had hair the same color as his, and she saw a slight resemblance. "I'm sure he went directly to his chambers to take his own bath."
Nevalle had indeed gone at once to the wing in which the members of The Nine had rooms to stay in when required to be at court. He took a quick bath, which had been prepared upon word of his arrival, then dressed in the formal clothing which had been laid out for him and strapped on his ceremonial sword. He looked himself over in the full length mirror and arranged an errant lock of his hair then left his room and strode down the hallway. He pulled on a sconce, which opened a secret door to a passage only the Nine and a few trusted servants knew of that led to Lord Nasher's privy chambers. He rapped sharply twice on the door and slipped in after Nasher bade him enter. Lord Nasher was sitting at his desk in a gold brocade dressing gown signing a scroll which his scribe then sprinkled with fine sand to dry the ink. He smiled at Nevalle and signed another scroll. "That will be all, Travin." His scribe mumbled, "Yes, your Grace," gathered up the scrolls, bowed to them both, and hastily left them alone.
They looked at one another for several heartbeats before Sir Nevalle broke the silence. "She is being given the bath now, my Lord. There has been an unusual turn of events concerning the former court wizard Ammon Jerro of which you should be aware." He briefed Nasher on what Dee had reported to him as he poured them both a goblet of wine then handed one to him.
Lord Nasher sat back at his desk and stroked his beard thoughtfully, listening until Sir Nevalle finished. "So. The former court wizard returns from the dead. I always suspected there was more to Jerro than met the eye. He seemed to be altogether lacking ambition, which set him apart from the rest of the court, at least to me. You were correct to counsel her to keep his identity to herself, though I will see him brought to justice once we have eliminated the threat of the King of Shadows. The Council is still more interested in my making a political marriage with the Lords' Alliance to give us an ally against Luskan's machinations, even with the news that Fort Locke has fallen to the undead army."
Nevalle sipped his wine quietly, glad that he had three elder brothers and two sisters who had provided his mother with ample grandchildren and heirs, and also that as first of the Nine and a knight of Neverwinter he now outranked his eldest brother and thus couldn't be compelled into a beneficial political or social union. "Have you had any more reports of the status of the Mere of Dead Men and Fort Locke?"
Lord Nasher walked to a table covered with a map of the region. "Just that Commander Tann fell as he and a score of Greycloaks fought back the army of undead to allow the rest of his forces to escape. The undead army seems to have vanished as quickly as they struck, but there are parts of the High Road that are impassable now. Still from plotting the points where they have been seen, his army seems to be headed directly towards Neverwinter via Crossroad Keep. Most of the survivors of Tann's troops have made their way here and have been reassigned. As a matter of fact, I've ordered a squad to Crossroad Keep to augment the Captain's forces. She will have to finish the fortifications to make a final stand to protect Neverwinter if we can find no other way to defeat the King of Shadows."
Sir Nevalle walked across the room and looked over his shoulder at the map. Lord Nasher turned and smiled at him. "I've missed your counsel, my dear boy." He put his arm around his knight and they gazed at one another for a few moments before he drew him into a kiss, which the knight resisted for only a moment before he returned it." Lord Nasher pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You're not still angry with me?"
The knight shrugged and pulled away. "No, but I resolved that if it is supposed to be finished between us, then we can't very well resume every time we're alone."
Lord Nasher caressed his cheek. "Don't believe for a moment that I want this, Gilles. You know how I feel about you. But they are right; I must make an alliance for the stability of Neverwinter and my lands. If I am to be married...once I am married I cannot dishonor my vows to my wife, no matter how much I care for you. Neither do I want to doom some poor woman to a lonely, loveless marriage because she had the misfortune to be born into a noble family. There's no honor in that."
Nevalle nodded grimly. "Yes, there's no honor in that. But must you marry? Surely there are other ways of cementing an alliance. You also might adopt an heir to protect your lands, Nash. There are orphans aplenty from the war. Captain Farlong has taken in a number of street urchins as well as some from the workhouse, and I've seen that a few of them have real potential to become something other than laborers or fodder for Axle's gang. In fact, there's a sweet little girl of six who came with a family from the workhouse I'm thinking of fostering before the Captain turns her into a blacksmith."
Lord Nasher smiled at the thought of Sir Nevalle as a foster father. "Perhaps. I'm afraid the nobility would not accept the child unless he or she was high born, although I know some of them could be persuaded the child was my bastard." He put his arms around Nevalle and kissed him softly, and then with more passion before he drew back to gaze into his eyes. "I don't want this; a marriage is not the only way to form an alliance, but it is the most convenient not to mention the most binding. You have always had no shortage of admirers at court, male and female, and I know you enjoy the attentions of both. I told you several times before and I still say you deserve to find someone who can make you happy and not waste your youth on an old man."
Nevalle smirked at him in a way that Lord Nasher found adorable, and he knew it too. "And yet, every time I return I'm back in your arms and your bed within a few days. You're not that old either, Nash. But you should be careful what you wish for, Your Grace."
Lord Nasher raised an eyebrow and drew back. "Oh? Have you met someone at Crossroads Keep other than that festhall boy you told me about? Is that why you're so distant? Don't tell me it's my soon-to-be knight. I can see your mother's horrified expression now."
Nevalle threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh Nash, that's too much! I can hear her now-'But my darling, she will never do. She's just so...so...rustic.' And she is, truth be told. No, I have no interest in the Captain, and she's become affianced to the paladin Casavir of Tyr. I must admit though I do admire her fine long legs, rather like a thoroughbred horse. One can tell that both her parents were highborn from that alone."
Lord Nasher scowled and drained his wine and poured another goblet for each of them. Nevalle could be such a snob, the one thing about him he found irritating. At times it felt like a dig at his own humble origins. He returned to the subject. "You say it's someone you've met, and so that rules out the fair Sand. If not the Captain, then who? Kana or one of the sergeants? Not one of the Greycloaks?"
Nevalle chuckled dryly. "Very well, I will tell you because you will never guess. I scarcely believe it myself, but I've discovered that Torio Claven is the most fascinating woman. We were drawn together at first out of mutual boredom and loneliness, and we have developed something more than a friendship. She's very intelligent and a fantastic lover, but then she was well trained in the brothels of Luskan. Of course we both know there can be no future together, but for now it's a diversion for both of us...and now you look jealous. That vein across your temple is throbbing."
Nasher frowned because the way he talked about her did stir the flames of jealousy, and he hated being called on it. "Yes, and I suppose I have no right to be, unlike you." He sighed and leaned his head against Nevalle's. "It's not serious then?"
"Not really, no, as I said. Besides, as interesting as she is, she's lacking a vital piece of anatomy that I don't think I could live without. And you are not betrothed yet?" He smirked in that adorable way again.
Nasher chucked him under the chin. "No, I am not yet, thank the gods. Fortunately for me several factions have each put forth a candidate. None of them will yield to the other, and therefore I'm doing my best to pit them against each other. Perhaps the King of Shadows' next attack will persuade them that we have more serious things to worry about." Lord Nasher gazed at him for a few moments and walked to the doors to his chamber and threw the bolts. "Neither of us would be expected to attend her vigil."
Nevalle chuckled as he unstrapped his sword belt. "Indeed not, that's Grayson's job. I've done my part, and if you made an appearance, it would only serve to revive the gossip that your newest knight is your bastard and that is why you have elevated her so quickly."
Nasher sighed deeply as he threw the last bolt. "I can tell you that her mother wasn't even a diversion for me. A woman I admired yes, a distraction yes, but that was all. It's simply jealousy and snobbery both. But people are drawn to Captain Farlong, and believe in her, and through her, in Neverwinter. She has earned this honor." He turned and leaned against the door and watched him undress. "I resisted your charms for a very long time after you were squired no matter how much you tried to seduce me. Remember that time I came on you bathing in that pond, the water just covering you?"
As he turned, Sir Nevalle was sitting on his bed, having already removed his boots and most of his clothing and was laying them neatly across a chair. Nevalle laughed as he folded his shirt so that it would remain wrinkle-free. "Yes, I nearly froze waiting for you to come and 'surprise' me there. You acted as if you had no interest in me for a maddeningly long time, though your eyes betrayed you time and again."
"That was for your benefit. I deliberately waited to approach you until after your knight submitted your name to the Council of Peers' list for elevation to knighthood. I didn't want anyone to say that the honors you have received were not earned, though there has been spiteful gossip anyway. But some people always want to believe the worst about others." He walked back across the room and untied his belt and let his dressing gown fall to the floor. "Well now. We have a few hours until the ceremony. How would you suggest we pass it?"
Nevalle leaned back on his elbows on the bed wearing only his small clothes, and Nasher's eyes traveled appreciatively over his perfectly sculpted body, pleased that he still shaved his chest. "You are altogether beautiful. How could I ever give you up," he murmured as he lay beside him. He nipped his earlobe then worked his way across his neck to the hollow of his throat before he found his perfect lips again and kissed him roughly. Then he reacquainted himself inch by inch with the rest of him. "Very well. I'm going to do everything in my power to see that I don't have to."
Nevalle gasped as his Lord reached a particularly sensitive spot and whispered, "We'll probably regret this later, but for now let us enjoy what time we have together."
Meanwhile, Dee was led into a chamber upstairs where a number of people she recognized both from court and from Melia's memorial service were milling around talking and eating. There was a table against the wall laden with platters bearing an assortment of fruits, vegetables, roasted meats, bread, and cheeses, and she tried to ignore the rumbling the sight caused in her stomach. The dull roar of conversation became an awkward silence as everyone realized she was being led into the room, and she blushed because she felt like everyone was staring at her (and they were). She had never felt more naked as she did at that moment standing there in her chemise and her stocking feet, except at her trial. To her relief, Sir Grayson smiled broadly and walked towards her but was beaten by Judge Oleff, who kissed her cheek and led her to a high backed wooden chair against the far wall.
She sat stiffly as Sir Grayson introduced her to the people assembled there, though it was unlikely that any of them didn't know who she was. Her squire sister handed her a plate of food that she picked at absently as she talked, or rather, was talked to. There was so much advice offered to her, some of it conflicting, that she had trouble taking it all in. In addition, several calling cards were pressed into her hand along with invitations to parties and balls as it was the beginning of the social season, but she knew she would likely be too busy at the Keep to worry about suitable gowns.
An imposing elderly woman who looked like her heavily-painted face was frozen in a perpetual sneer waddled up to Dee. She was wearing a voluminous wide-sleeved purple silk gown and one of the new Waterdhavian cone-shaped hats covered with veils that was so long that Dee wondered how she managed to stand without being pulled backwards. Dee knew who she was; she had seen the dowager Lady Nevalle before at court and at the Mask. She peered at Dee for so long Dee fought an uncomfortable urge to look down to see if she had spilled something down the front of herself. At the same time she tried not to laugh as it occurred to her how much Sir Nevalle favored his mother, and she had a wicked thought flash through her mind of him standing there in heavy make-up and woman's garb.
After several minutes of scrutiny Lady Nevalle stated haughtily, "As hard as I look I see little of your mother in you, girl. Perhaps that is a good thing. She sang at my eldest son's wedding, as I recall. Perhaps...you have her eyes, and the same big teeth. You must take after your father, whoever he might be."
Dee fought the urge to reply in kind to the rudeness. She gritted her teeth, smiled sweetly and said, "Yes, so I've been told."
"You are to come to tea at highsun on the morrow, and I believe I heard you are betrothed to a paladin of Tyr. You may bring him as well." It wasn't as much an invitation as a command. She turned on her heel just as Sir Nevalle had done earlier and walked off without another word, and before Dee had a chance to say anything in reply. It wasn't an invitation to high tea but early tea, and Dee knew enough now to understand the difference, but to the minor nobility and to the social climbing merchant families it was a great honor for someone of Lady Nevalle's status to condescend to notice her so soon, or so they leaned near and whispered to her after Lady Nevalle was safely out of earshot.
After sitting there on display for what seemed like an eternity but really was only about an hour, Sir Grayson took her hand and led her to her feet. "Come, squire, it's time for you to spend some time alone with your gods in contemplation of the path you are about to take." He leaned close and whispered as they walked out of the room and down the hallway, "I believe Tyr would understand if you took a nap after your prayers, squire. You look like you could use one, not to mention a haircut, though there isn't enough time to fetch my hairdresser before they call for you. Pity." He ruffled her hair and winked at her and closed the door, leaving her alone in a small guest room she knew must be close to the Great Hall.
Her things had been brought up to this room; her boots were polished and clean clothes—new clothes, she realized—were laid out for her on the bed. She slipped out of the chemise and packed it away then dressed. She sat on the bed and tried to clear her thoughts, wishing she could have Casavir and Cillian with her. She opened her mind to Meilikki and to Tyr and whispered, "I really don't deserve this, and I don't understand why I've been set on this path. Surely 'tis not only because of this shard in my chest." But she was met with silence; there was no repeat of her experience before her trial by combat. She lay back on the bed after a while and drifted off to sleep.
All too soon her sister squire knocked on the door. "Squire Farlong, it's nearly time." She stood and removed her long sword and strapped the ceremonial blade onto her sword belt in its place along with her short sword, fastened the clasp on her cloak, and took up the rear in a procession made up of Sir Grayson and most of his squires that wound its way to a side door in the audience chamber. Her banner was carried in front of the procession on a long pole to be presented to Lord Nasher.
The Great Hall was filled with many of the people who had attended her vigil, and a good many well-dressed people who hadn't, though Lady Nevalle's ridiculous hat was nowhere to be seen in the throng. The gallery was full of people who cheered when they entered. She looked up and spotted Marshall Cormick and Captain Brelaina, then she saw her uncle pushing his way towards the front. She spotted Casavir's beautiful smile and fought the urge to wave at him. She couldn't believe how much she missed him after only a day. But their relationship had progressed beyond the awkward innocence at the beginning to a level of comfortable experience.
Neeshka and Sand were standing just behind him, and she could just make out the shiny top of Khelgar's head. Sir Grayson bowed and handed her off to Sir Nevalle, who she noticed looked very relaxed. He took her arm and led her to stand before Lord Nasher, who looked down on them all from where he sat on his throne. He stood as Sir Nevalle indicated the cushion on the floor where she should kneel. A herald called for the assembly to be silent so they might hear the words of Lord Nasher Alagondar. The hall became hushed, and Dee knelt, drew the ceremonial sword from its scabbard, and held it out across her arms, surrendering it to him. He would take it from her and use it to dub her a knight, then hand it back to her to complete the ceremony.
Just as Lord Nasher was about to open his mouth to speak, the silence was suddenly broken by the sound of chanting coming from an alcove to the right and above the throne and a mere heartbeat later, followed by a deafening clanging alarm that echoed through the chamber. This was followed immediately by the clang of metal slamming into marble as portcullises dropped from hidden recesses cutting off the great hall from the spectator galleries and sealing the entrances. Sir Nevalle looked around wildly, and Dee instinctively stood and raised the ceremonial sword and drew her short sword. Nevalle gasped, "My gods, it's the ancient alarm! We're under attack! I never thought I would see this day!"