he castle is in uproar.  A rumor came yesterday that the Duke was killed by arrowshot on the beaches of Fogreach.  Today, a merchant swore that the armies have not yet given battle, but the elven raiders captured several ships in the harbor of Irongate under cover of darkness.  He says further that the king has refused to defend the Free Towns, claiming illness.

Such is the news in summer.  We in the heart of the country, a long way from the dangers of the coastal raids, must fret and imagine the worst while our brothers and fathers, friends and husbands, risk their lives in service to their lord and king.  (The Lady Dalla would remind me to think as well of the wives and daughters who are carried away in swift ships, to end their lives in slavery.)

I try to pay little mind to these rumors, for the news often changes with each passing day.

Today something more shocking has happened.