Morwen woke long after Wynflaed had disappeared from the room, the consequence of her late night. Her thoughts came in woolly hanks that disintegrated as soon as she tried to pull on one. Rising late always made her feel out of sorts. She slipped out of bed and dressed quickly, not bothering to braid her hair. She barely made it into the passage when Prince Thengel appeared from the study, looking cautiously in her direction. He was dressed for riding and she saw both a sheathed sword and a leather pouch hanging from his belt.
"Good morning," she mumbled with more rote than feeling.
"Can we talk in private?" he asked. "No, not in the library. Cenhelm and the rest had to sleep in there."
Hareth would be ensconced in the kitchen by now. Anywhere else wouldn't guarantee privacy, except one place. Morwen glanced up and down the corridor. They were alone. Silently, she beckoned for him to follow her back into the bedroom. He paused on the threshold before entering.
"This is your bedroom," he observed.
"They're all my bedrooms," she grumped. "I just sleep in this one."
The corner of Thengel's mouth slanted upward and he preceded her inside. She closed the door softly behind him, and then gestured toward the table and chair under the window. His eyes swept the space, and then fixed on a point beyond the windowpane.
"That's Wynflaed's pack," he said.
Morwen had to look around to spot the object, since he wasn't looking at it. She found the weather-beaten bag slumped between the wall and her clothes chest.
"How observant you are this morning. She's staying in here with me."
"Good."
Thengel took his place in the chair under the window, moving the sword out of the way of the legs. Morwen hastily drew the coverlet over the mattress and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"What did you wish to speak to me about?" she asked.
"I'm heading out shortly, as soon as Thurstan and Gladhon dress and eat. Gladhon will deliver my messages and Halmir's blueprints to Ferneth in Arnach and we'll make sure he gets to the South Road. I came to see if you have a message for her, as well. You never did tell me your idea."
Morwen rose and crossed the room, feigning interest in her wardrobe as a feeling of reluctance compressed her ribs. "Well," she said hesitantly. "It sounded better yesterday when I first thought of it."
Yesterday the idea had given her wings. In the light of a new day, she began to feel that some of the primary feathers were missing from it.
"What is it?"
"Well, don't laugh," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Promise?"
Thengel nodded once. "Tell me."
She stood over him, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, hoping it would make the plan sound less embarrassing if he couldn't hear most of it. When she finished, she withdrew and waited for his reaction.
Thengel scratched his jaw, looking at her through wide eyes. "You want Ferneth to bring their wives and mothers to Imloth Melui?" he repeated.
Morwen cringed, feeling like a fool. "Well, I know it will take time to put it together, but I thought maybe it'll work to shift the squatters? We've focused on Halmir for so long, but maybe that's the wrong tack to take? Their families must want them to come home. Without his men to insulate him, Halmir won't hold out for long," she rambled to avoid a terrible silence when he didn't immediately respond. "At least, I don't think he will. Perhaps. I don't know — I'm new to strategizing."
Thengel's eyes grew brighter while she rambled. When his lips began to twitch, he covered his mouth and looked down.
Morwen rounded on him. "Don't you dare!" she said. "Your ideas are hardly more conventional."
"Granted," he drawled through his fingers. Morwen's eyes widened with silver indignation when he kicked back in the chair and indulged in full-throated laughter.
"You promised!" she complained over the sound of his merriment at her expense.
Thengel ducked his head, but his shoulders still shook. "I'm sorry," he chuckled. "It's a good plan."
"Liar. You're laughing at me."
"No! It's excellent, assuming those men are still capable of feeling shame," he quipped. "Truly. I wish I had thought of it."
"I don't believe you," she said dourly.
Thengel forced himself into a state of composure. Rising, he held her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, Morwen. I promise I'm not laughing at you, but you must see the joke."
Morwen crossed her arms over her chest, as if cradling the remnants of her wounded pride. "I wish I'd never told you," she grumbled.
"Well, you have," he told her, patting her arms, "you're right, though. It will take some time to organize. All the more reason to get Gladhon on the road. I wonder if I should send Thurstan too? They could both help."
"But you do think it will work?" she asked skeptically.
The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. "Oh yes, Steelsheen. Scatha's teeth! I wouldn't want to face a mob like that for anything." He broke out into more peels of laughter.
Steelsheen? Morwen looked askance. What was that supposed to mean? "I beg your pardon?"
"Nevermind." He sighed happily. "I'm going to tell Ecthelion to add you to his war council. We could use a fresh perspective."
"You will not," she sniffed, certain he really was laughing at her again. "It probably won't work."
"Listen, you and I know it's not about numbers," he told her with less levity in his voice. "These men are in a hard spot. Do they obey the so-called lord of the fief, their neighbor, or do what their consciences say? Assuming they have consciences. If it were a mere matter of numbers, the residents in the valley could have run them out long before."
"The people of Imloth Melui are afraid of Halmir too," Morwen told him. "Except Teitherion."
Thengel chuckled again. "But in this case, the Arnach men may fear their wives more than Halmir. It's worth a try."
"That's what I hope." Morwen shrugged. "I can't imagine what their families must think. It's been weeks since Lossemeren."
"If your guess is correct, these woman probably want to know what's keeping their menfolk for so long. Granted, I doubt most of them can afford to pick up for a few days and follow Ferneth. That's the only sticky spot."
"We don't need them all," Morwen pointed out. "Remember, Ferneth is the most valuable gambit."
"And the women are her rooks?"
Morwen nodded. "It'll be her court versus Halmir's."
Thengel stared out the window, seeing nothing as he calculated in his mind. "Let's see. It's a day's ride to Arnach. She will need time to gather whoever she can, then another day's ride back here. I judge they couldn't get here before three days. So we need to keep Halmir distracted for at least that long."
Morwen remembered the last time he had decided to get Halmir's attention and the kiss that had followed. Perhaps that's where his thoughts now bent for he studied her face with a concentration that made her feel somehow as if she were drawn into deep water.
"Hadn't you better be on your way now?" she whispered.
Thengel blinked and she felt as if she had been instantly released from a strong eddy in the Erui.
"Yes." Then his expression became stern. "Listen, Morwen, Cenhelm and Wynflaed will stay here with you and your folk. The rest of us should be back a little after noon. Watch yourself."
"You too."
Thengel wished her good morning as she let him out of the room and began to follow. But Morwen bumped into Thengel's back when he stopped short of the threshold. The door to the linen cupboard kitty-corner from her room closed at the same moment, revealing Hundor who clutched a pile of cloths and a bar of soap in his arms. Morwen gaped at him from around Thengel's arm. She hadn't seen her youngest cousin once since they arrived!
"What are you doing in here?" Thengel demanded.
Hundor's quick eyes took in the entirety of the situation. "Ah. I see which way the wind's blowing. Don't mind me. I'll let myself out." With a smirk he scarpered down the passage to the hall, contraband in hand.
Morwen pressed her forehead against Thengel's shoulder blade and cringed. She felt him tense under her touch. What inauspicious timing! Hundor would have a field day imagining what he'd witnessed.
"I wondered where he'd gotten to," she groaned into Thengel's back. "I had hoped he'd gone home."
"I told Cenhelm and Guthere to check every room," Thengel groused over his shoulder.
"I'm sure they did," she replied, stepping around him into the passage. "Who knows how many opportunities he had to get back inside. There's only so many of us."
"Shall I go after him?" he asked.
To tear his limbs off, seemed to be implied.
Morwen shook her head. "Let him be. I'd rather you get on the road with Gladhon. From the looks of him, Hundor wanted a wash more than he wanted mischief."
"He'll manage both before long," Thengel muttered.
"Believe me, I know," Morwen answered. "Focus on Ferneth, Thengel. She's the only one who can curb those two."
Thengel frowned but held his peace. They parted ways at the study door.
….
Despite her words to Thengel, Morwen pursued Hundor on her own. She caught him lingering over a bowl of old fruit on the table in the hall. The only good Morwen could foresee from her late rising was that the men forced to sleep on pallets in the hall had already woken up and cleared into the kitchen. She wanted to face Hundor without an audience.
"Where have you been hiding, then?" she demanded.
Hundor's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he pocketed one of last year's withered apples that Hareth had unearthed in the cellar. "Who me? I've kept Beldir's shed warm in his absence." He winked at her. "But, eh, he doesn't have a bathtub."
"You have no right to use his house," she said sternly. "If you want a bath, why don't you return to your own home?"
"But it's so dull back in Arnach." Then Hundor grinned. "Tell me, cousin Morwen, when did Prince Thengel get free rein in your bedroom?"
"Hundor." Her voice grew low in warning. She wasn't going to apologize to Hundor for having a conversation with Thengel in her room, especially when nothing had happened. She certainly didn't owe anyone else an explanation!
"Don't you have anything more interesting to do than spy on me?" she challenged.
"No. Nothing half as interesting as you at the moment," Hundor drawled dispassionately. He set down the stolen goods on the table, hands splayed on the wood, he leaned over it toward her. "You know, I've been puzzling over something in particular."
"I am not in the least interested in what goes on in your twisted mind," she began coldly.
But Hundor started talking over her. "It hurt Halmir's pride, you know, when you ran off after that old prince. Personally, I don't understand it. He's got to be thirty years older than you. Were all the real knights already taken? Or is it only the feeble ones past their prime who want you?"
"Feeble! Are you blind?"
"I guess you'd know better than I," he said. "Though that was an interesting display at the well yesterday."
Morwen felt a rush of heat from her chest to her ears. In her mind, she knew that in the yard they were always under watch, but to have it boldly proclaimed in particular, made her cheeks and throat burn.
Hundor laughed at her discomfort. "I suppose you felt you had to reciprocate. Tell me, did he decide to marry you before or after sampling the goods?"
Morwen's hands clenched into fists. The smirk on Hundor's lips disappeared and his eyes went round. She took a step toward him and he nearly fell over a chair in his haste to escape through the doors. He forgot his soap and cloths. Morwen blinked at her fists, surprised by her own force. She hadn't even tried to hit him!
But then she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She gasped and spun around. Thengel had come up from behind without a sound. Whatever expression had been on his face beforehand disappeared behind a blank mask. She felt oddly disappointed.
"I didn't scare him away, did I?" she asked wryly.
Thengel gave her an innocent look. "Did he need scaring?"
"Stop pretending," she chided. "I know you heard everything he said."
Thengel dropped the bland smile. "Where did you come by this family of yours anyway?"
Morwen didn't have a satisfactory answer. "Where are the others?" she deflected.
"Following." Thengel looked back over his shoulder as Cenhelm, Thurstan and Gladhon joined them in the hall. Morwen wished them good morning and told them to find breakfast in the kitchen. They thanked her and disappeared in that direction.
Then Thengel observed, "Hundor's going to make mischief for you with Halmir after what he saw. I'm sorry."
"Well, won't it further the charade?" she sighed, resigned that one ill timed conversation had given her cousins something more to plague her with. Yet, she felt determined to turn his triumph around on him. What had Thengel said last night? Use Halmir's momentum against him. "We both know this plan will take time to unfold and in the meantime, we've got to keep Halmir on his toes. Don't we?"
Something flickered in Thengel's countenance. "You're resolved then?"
Morwen said bitterly, "It'll be a pleasure to give them a good set down." She would deal with the consequences after they were gone.
"Just be careful," Thengel told her. "I'll see you when we get home."
Morwen saw Thengel and the others off after they had eaten breakfast. None of Halmir's men had yet made an appearance in the yard, but Cenhelm helped her and Gundor feed the remaining horses and turn them out to pasture afterward. It felt odd when she had first returned home, but gradually Morwen grew used to being shadowed by Wynflaed.
But Cenhelm had a way of making his presence felt without a word or action, which she found disconcerting. She knew he had a fastidious sense of duty that sometimes resulted in conflict between Thengel and the captain. The reason manifested itself. Everything about Cenhelm seemed to say, "Stay put and behave. It's for your own good." And she found she wanted nothing more than to run off and get into mischief. He was the armed, muscle-bound nursemaid every child struggled to get away from. How did Thengel manage it?
Morwen contemplated this point as the three of them returned to the house. Gundor made his escape by looking for Guthere. Her thoughts were arrested when she met familiar faces approaching from the road. She stopped to wait for them and Cenhelm hovered near her elbow. What sort of threat did he think these families posed? She swallowed a sigh.
Ioneth and her mother were entering the yard with a grave old man, Ioneth's ailing father. And they were not alone either. The miller's wife and Midhel had also come with Nanneth leaning on her arm. A large hamper hung from Midhel's arm, brimming with bread, eggs, and garden stuff.
"We heard you'd come back finally," the miller's wife said without preamble. "And with the prince. We passed him on the road."
"He's not leaving, is he?" Midhel asked.
"Not today," Morwen answered. "He's on an errand for me."
The miller's wife exchanged a glance with Ioneth's mother that Morwen understood perfectly. Well, so what?
Nanneth garbled a few sentences in her ear.
"Yes, Beldir is inside," Morwen answered. "The others are beginning to look better too."
"Some good food will help with that," Midhel said. Then she gestured for Cenhelm to step her way. "You there, help me carry this inside."
Morwen nodded at Cenhelm, who grudgingly took the basket but didn't leave her side.
"It's all right, Cenhelm. I'll be in shortly."
"I have orders, Lady Morwen."
"I know."
He pressed his lips together in a thin, hard line. Morwen felt badly for Cenhelm. She thought she understood his feelings. His sense of duty dictated that he accompany Thengel; and yet he'd been relegated to minding her, a woman to whom he owed no allegiance. His lord had ordered it, however, and he meant to obey. And now she had dismissed him.
"Come along, handsome. You don't want to listen to valley gossip, do you?" Cenhelm glowered at Midhel, but the woman ignored him and helped Nanneth into the house. After a moment of hesitation, Cenhelm stalked behind them, cheerful as a rain cloud.
Morwen watched them disappear into the house before her visitors demanded her attention again.
"Lady Morwen, you must know that Ioneth has been under foot for over a week now," her mother complained. "What am I supposed to do with her if this continues? Mind you, I don't want her in the path of those Arnach men and their sticky fingers, but I've got enough to manage on my own now that I've got her father's health to mind too."
The miller's wife gave her neighbor a sour look. "Imagine trying to keep a handle on seven girls. Really, Lady Morwen, I had hoped you'd get a handle on this situation soon than this. I'm at my wit's end."
Morwen stared at the miller's wife in surprise. Perhaps the woman should have thought of that before she had seven girls!
"Six. One managed to get away from you, remember?" Ioneth's mother twitted.
Morwen held up her finger to silence any further retorts. "Listen, Prince Thengel and I are doing what we can to clear Bar-en-Ferin so that everyone can come back to work. It's going to take time, unless you have better ideas."
"Hareth suggested we poison them," Ioneth piped up.
The mothers hushed her. Some of the men had begun to enter the yard and their little grouping had drawn their interest. Morwen saw her neighbors' unease. They didn't want to provoke the men.
"It's tempting," Morwen muttered. "But no. Prince Thengel and I have other ideas."
Ioneth shrugged. "Poison would be faster."
"You're not going to marry the prince and abandon us to the likes of Lord Halmir?" The miller's wife asked suspiciously.
Morwen colored. "I'm not abandoning the valley," she said carefully. "Whatever else might happen."
"Because that's what some folks are saying," Ioneth's mother chimed in.
"Who's saying that?" Morwen snapped.
The miller's wife shrugged. "Folks."
"Folks? There's only one person nosy enough for that," Midhel said with a snort as she joined them again without her basket and Cenhelm close on her elbow.
Morwen recalled the goat man's hearty congratulations the evening before. "Teitherion is spreading tales, isn't he?"
"Well…."
"He didn't say that Lady Morwen would abandon us," Ioneth countered, "he said Prince Thengel was going to carry her off on a white horse." She sighed at whatever ridiculous, romantic imagery Teitherion had invoked.
Cenhelm surprised her by snorting. She wished he had stayed inside!
"It's a gray horse," she said, recalling the day they had compared their knowledge of horses and apples while she showed off her then beautiful trees. "And he isn't carrying me off anywhere." She wouldn't give Lord Turgon the satisfaction, for one.
"White, gray, whatever," the miller's wife continued as she pointed a rough finger at Morwen. "Just so long as you don't leave us with this mess. It's your responsibility. What are we supposed to do in the meantime? My husband's ready to drown the girls in the Erui."
Morwen eyed her neighbor's finger with disgust. "Let him, then," she snapped. "That's your business. I have my hands full at the moment without your flighty daughters adding to it, thank you."
"Lady Morwen, really—" Ioneth's mother began.
"And until you have something constructive to add to this situation, I suggest you stay home," Morwen finished.
Ioneth giggled and received a pinch in the arm from her mother.
"Well," the miller's wife huffed. "That's hardly the reply I'd expect from Lord Randir's daughter."
"You forget yourself," Midhel hooted. "This is Hirwen's daughter too." She didn't have any children of her own and had never been very sympathetic of other women who had.
The two families wasted little time in the yard after that. When they were out of sight, Morwen allowed herself to cringe.
"I shouldn't have lost my temper."
Midhel smirked. "The miller's wife needs a good set down every once in a while, else she fancies herself a great lady too. Your mother knew that." She snorted. "As if her children were your responsibility. The cheek."
Hirwen had never talked to Morwen about the other women in the valley. But then she had been a girl still when her mother died unexpectedly and it probably hadn't seemed necessary.
"I do need her children, though," Morwen said thoughtfully. "That's the problem." She regarded her companions. "Are you leaving too?"
Midhel shook her head. "I came out to see if you needed help managing those two biddies, but you had them in hand. I'm washing wool today, but Nanneth needs an elbow to hold onto. She's slowing down with this wet spring getting into her joints and it's too much for the grandkids to be any use to her."
"Will the two of you be all right on your own later?" Morwen asked, staring off in the direction of their departed neighbors before glancing at Cenhelm. His expression dared her to suggest offering his services to the two old women. She wasn't in the mood for mutiny, so she held her tongue.
"Oh yes." Midhel reached into her long pockets and pulled out a wool comb strapped in a leather holster her husband had made for her. She unlaced the holster to reveal tines longer than Morwen's fingers and terribly sharp. "They'll leave us alone if they don't want a tickle with this. Anyway, let's go back inside. It's getting crowded in the yard, if you haven't noticed."
Morwen had noticed and she wondered where Wynflaed had gone off to. Not that the shieldmaiden needed her protection. She simply preferred to keep her so-called guest in sight.
But another task awaited Morwen, so Wynflaed would have to fend for herself. Perhaps Cenhelm would go in search of her? Without a doubt, the two understood one another better than Morwen ever could. In the meantime, Beldir would have to be told about Hundor's choice of lodgings, a conversation Morwen didn't relish.
…
Morwen nearly fell over to escape the long reach of Beldir's crutches as the overseer shunted around her. "Wait! Where are you going?" Morwen asked.
His gaunt face had twisted with righteous anger as he limped toward the door. "To clear that squatter from my home."
"You're in no condition with that leg, you old fool," Gildis called after him.
Beldir's face turned red. "It's my hut and I'll drag myself there if I have to!"
Morwen caught up to him easily and pressed her hand against his thin chest, stopping him. "Beldir, think. What do you expect to do to Hundor? He'll dance around you on those crutches. Be patient."
Gundor, whose head had been stuck on the other side of the doors like a sentinel's, watching the road for Prince Thengel's return, ducked back inside.
"Lady Morwen, I can see the prince on the road."
Morwen twisted around. "So soon?"
"Eh." Gundor stuck his head back out. "No, wait, it's somebody else. I thought the horse looked the same."
Who would be coming to her on horseback? Morwen joined Gundor at the door, pushing it open further to see around the boy. She could hear Beldir stumping along behind her. Beyond the men in the yard, she saw a rider on a pale horse wearing a cheap black surcoat that looked rusty where the sun had faded it the worst.
"That may be a courier," she said. "It doesn't look like the one from Arnach though. Wait, who's that riding behind him?"
"Maybe it's two couriers?" Gundor offered. "It must be from Minas Tirith. We've seen a few of them while you were gone. They never send the same rider."
Without waiting for Cenhelm, Morwen stepped out beyond the threshold and into the crowd to meet the newcomers. Wynflaed surprised her by materializing at her elbow.
"Where have you been?" Morwen whispered.
"Climbing trees."
"What?"
Wynflaed shrugged. "It's interesting what a body can overhear when they're out of sight. I want to warn you, though…"
The first rider gave them a curious look as he rode up, interrupting Wynflaed.
"Lord Halmir?" he said.
"I'll get him," one of the Arnach men answered as he ran off in the direction of the tents.
At length the second rider approached. The two horsemen regarded one another, then the second turned to Morwen as the most likely candidate for his query, if dress where an indicator.
"Lord Halmir?" he said.
"Coming," Morwen growled.
"Here, in fact."
Morwen turned and recoiled as her cousin rounded the corner of the house. The courier had reached into his bag and held out a letter, which Halmir received. Then he paid the man triple what he should have, making sure Morwen noticed, and then the horse and rider turned in the yard and departed.
Halmir wasted no time in breaking the seal and scanning the document. He crowed. "Just as I thought! Morwen—"
The second rider dismounted and cleared his throat. "Lord Halmir."
Halmir glanced up from his letter, angry to be interrupted. "What do you want?"
The rider bowed stiffly. "Pardon me, my lord," he said with a nasally voice. "I represent Lord Daeron." He handed Halmir another letter.
Again Halmir didn't wait to open it. He beamed after reading the first paragraph. "Ah, my friend Daeron has been very obliging. Always comes through for me." Halmir chuckled. "So you met him in Minas Tirith? Good fellow. Very well dressed. I'm afraid he's found you rather disappointing, however. Do you wish to know what he writes?"
Morwen's blood ran cold at the thought of those two communicating about her. "No, thank you."
"I would keep reading, my lord," the man intoned.
Halmir glared at the man. "Why? Do you know what it says?"
"I am familiar with the contents, my lord."
Halmir harrumphed and continued to read. Morwen watched his eyes travel from line to line. Then his color changed, startling her when he suddenly ripped the page in two. He surprised her again by rounding on her.
"What is this drivel?" he demanded, flapping the torn pages at her as if she had written them. "What lies were you spreading to Daeron?"
Cenhelm stepped between them. "If you please, my lord, stand back—"
"What are you talking about?" she said around Cenhelm, speaking with a calm she didn't feel.
"You told Daeron that the project was off."
"It is off!" she retorted.
Halmir wadded up the paper in his hand, then dropped it on the ground to grind it beneath his boot. "It is not. It is not! And now you've set him threatening me about money."
What a child he was, she thought, in mind at least. That gave her courage. "Wake up, Halmir. You never should have embarked on this scheme in the first place." She raised her voice so that the whole yard had to overhear. "Look at these men. You've wasted weeks of their family's time. They haven't slept in real beds in days and you've eaten everything we had. How long do you expect to keep this up before they've had enough of hunger and wet tents and dreading their return to angry households?"
A murmur rippled through the crowd. She felt Cenhelm's hand on her elbow again.
"Careful," he warned with a whisper.
"Food can be purchased, Morwen," Halmir answered, managing to scowl at her, at Cenhelm, and at the rider at the same time. "You forget how well funded I am. And if you hadn't interrupted, these men would have cleared the land for their own barracks in another week or two. If they are hungry and uncomfortable it's your fault!"
The murmur rose and she felt black looks directed toward her. How could they believe such utter rubbish?
"Sir, if you would allow me," the rider began.
"And just who are you?" Halmir snapped.
The rider bowed again very slightly all the while with a mildly disgusted frown. "My name is Axantur. I am but one of Lord Daeron's advisors appointed to look into his interests here."
"Leave that to me," Halmir bit off. "I don't care how many advisors he has, he'll know what he needs to know when I'm good and ready and not before."
The man sniffed. "With respect, my lord, he is an investor and thereby has a right to know the progress of the project he has funded as per the agreement you signed in the presence of Lord Daeron and my colleagues when you accepted his money. As you have read in his letter, he has grown uneasy by your long silence. Now, if you please, I will make my inspection and draft a report. Lord Daeron is a busy man and so I must return to Minas Tirith without delay. If you bar me, there will be consequences."
"This is your fault," Halmir growled at Morwen. "You've set that man breathing down my neck with your lies."
"You did that yourself." Then she turned to Axantur as another idea came to her then. "Come with me, sir. I'll show you exactly what Lord Halmir has been up to and I have a few things to say to Lord Daeron about his complicity in the destruction of this property."
The advisor blinked at her. "Complicity?"
"Did Lord Daeron see a deed before that so called agreement was signed?"
Axantur reached for his bag as if missing the safe feel of documents in his hands. "I'm afraid I did not oversee the negotiations directly." He cleared his throat. "Forgive me, but who are you?"
Morwen straightened her shoulders. "I am Lady Morwen of Bar-en-Ferin," she said boldly. "My family has held this property by the will of the Lord of Lossarnach for over twenty years."
The advisor's eyes roved between Halmir and Morwen as he digested this information.
"You had better inform Lord Daeron that a lawsuit might be coming his way soon for his complicity in the destruction of valuable property, which I will be happy to detail for you," Morwen bluffed. "And for aiding trespassers—"
"Shut up, Morwen," Halmir barked.
But Axantur ignored him. "I see."
"She's lying! Morwen doesn't own this property and she knows very well she can't sue—"
Morwen rounded on him, nearly pushing Cenhelm out of her way. "But Ferneth can," she snapped. Halmir looked like he might strike her, but Morwen held her ground. "Can't she?" she murmured slowly, emphasizing each word.
Up close, Morwen perceived for the first time how bloodshot her cousin's eyes had become. And she thought his curls looked more shapeless and less glossy. He could crow about his money and bully his men, but even he would have to crumble at some point if she pushed him long enough.
Beldir pegged his way over the gravel to Morwen's side. "Gundor and I will take this man up to the orchard. The boy saw most of what happened first hand." Then he leaned in to whisper, "Take care, Morwen. Don't overreach yourself."
But Morwen was in the mood for kicking hornets' nests. She frowned at Halmir, who hadn't quite rallied. "Aren't you going to follow?" she asked as Beldir led Axantur away. "You should be there as your plan unravels."
"Lady Morwen," Cenhelm groused. He had overheard Beldir's advice.
But to her surprise, Halmir swallowed back his anger. He rolled his shoulders and seemed to shrug off what had just occurred.
"A minor setback," he said. "You and I both know that was a bluff."
"Was it?" Morwen retorted. She felt some doubt in her mind. They couldn't know for a fact that Ferneth hadn't forfeited to Halmir and his ability to rally seemed to confirm her doubt. And yet, they could both bluff, couldn't they?
"I'll set things straight with Daeron another time," he said with a wave of his hand. "You've merely annoyed me again and wasted that man's time. That's all. I have enough of Daeron's money in hand to proceed and the authority to do it. As for you, Morwen, I plan to teach you some caution."
Morwen tossed her hair. To whatever spirit had possessed her to provoke Halmir she gave it full rein. "You've run out of time for your plans for me, Halmir. I have the favor of the future king of the Mark and he will never allow you to lay another finger on me again."
Let Halmir interpret that how he liked, but within Morwen stillness grew and spread through her limbs. That hadn't been a bluff. As the words passed her lips, she felt their truth as solidly as if Thengel's shield stood planted in the ground between her and Halmir.
Halmir stepped toward her as if he meant to try then and there to strangle her, but then a poisonous light appeared in his eyes. "Yes, favor. That's one way to put it."
Wynflaed grabbed her arm, startling her as she pulled her back. "Here comes Thengel. Listen, Hundor's spreading some lie about catching Thengel in your bedroom, no doubt to give his brother more material for abuse."
A movement in the crowd drew Morwen's eyes to Hundor and a she felt a cramp in her belly. "Wynflaed, he was in my bedroom," she whispered.
Wynflaed stared at Morwen in surprise. Then she swore under her breath.
"Talking, Wynflaed."
Wynflaed snorted and stepped aside as her brother rode up.
Halmir had frozen as Thengel and Thurstan dismounted. But then he snapped behind his back and the largest of his thugs came forward, enveloping her cousin in a protective shroud of borrowed muscle.
Guthere stepped up to Rochagar to receive the reins from his master. He and Thurstan led the horses away to groom, leaving Thengel to deal with the confrontation in the yard. In her preoccupation with Daeron's man and her cousin, she hadn't noticed the yard filling up with all of Halmir's men and her own folk. Cenhelm and Guthere had both been behind her the whole time. Midhel, Nanneth, Gildis and Hareth watched from the doorway.
"What's going on here?" Thengel asked her, lifting his chin in the direction of the horse and rider disappearing into the distance with Beldir and Gundor. "Who's that?"
Morwen led him a little ways from the group. "Lord Daeron's advisor just arrived. I think he's threatening to pull his money out of the project and that's made Halmir angry," she explained. Then she asked, "Did Gladhon make it all right?"
Thengel nodded. "He's on his way."
"I thought you wanted to send Thurstan too?"
"Cenhelm balked when I suggested it." He glanced at the crowd. "That may be for the best from what I can see." He frowned at her. "I thought I asked you to be careful, not go toe to toe with your cousin."
"Well." Morwen licked her dry lips. "About that, I may have said some things to Halmir just now that may have been ill advised…or provoking, but— "
Thengel planted his hands on his hips. "Morwen, what did you say?"
She cleared her throat. "Well…"
Then Thengel scowled at something over her shoulder and pulled Morwen closer to his side. "What do you want?"
Morwen didn't need to look to know that Halmir had come up behind her.