Posted by
Goran at 6:41 PM
Tuesday, June 23rd in the 9th year of the King's reign
Goran,
Ivar,
Law
ir Harholm arrived yesterday from the village of Eftling. Although he is a knight, the Justiciar is not spry enough to attend the Duke his lord in matters of war, so for more than ten years he has been elected to keep the rolls in Cannaghdown, Eftling, and Lower Assendale. Sir “Harry”, a pleasant man, is well-known to my father, who sold him several strips of pasture years ago.
Every few months, he rides to the Castle on a knobby-kneed donkey to report the crimes and suits of villager against villager, and to record the fines paid to the Duke. We saw him in the village last summer, when Ewan drowned in the eel-pond. Ewan’s corpse lay stinking for several days before the Justiciar arrived to examine it. (The jury agreed that Ewan was murdered by strangers or outlaws unknown, and my father the miller was fined two silver pennies for not maintaining the banks of the pond to the detriment of the Duke. But everyone knows that Ewan and Cotter Byrne had too much to drink and were poaching the Duke’s fish.)
Elsewhere I believe the custom would be to try Ivar at the itinerant royal court. Here in Cannaghdown, that privilege is the Duke’s, so the Justiciar will bring the case to the Lord’s Court, which by custom is held before the Boon-Feast when the harvest begins. In other places, they say, both lord and justiciar may be vain and corrupt men, but here they are honest and wise.
Sir Harholm has spoken with the soldiers and with Ivar. He must also have examined Fina’s body for wounds and other signs of the rape that Ivar is supposed to have committed. I cannot believe Ivar’s guilt, so it must be that he saw nothing. Sir Harholm’s words will weigh heavily even though the jury will be ignorant and spiteful freemen from the village.
The Justiciar agreed that Ivar could be freed if six men, all free, would stand surety for him to appear before the jury. I will do so, of course, but I do not know who else might for most of his friends now man the coast watch against the elven raiders. Javier has already agreed, and my father also, for I promised him I would pay the fine should Ivar not appear (though he will, for I will make certain of that). The Lady Dalla herself had already spoken with Justiciar, so that leaves only two more.
I will speak with the Castellan, and Kalla. I think Kean no longer speaks with Ivar, or else I would ask him as well. I must go quickly, for the Justiciar may return to Eftling on the morrow.
t is dark here, and the floor leaches the heat from my body. My shoes have been taken, and my torn robe gives me little warmth. My manacles are heavy and the metal jagged with rust and long age. I share my cell with scraps of bone, and the nests and refuse of rats.
I never should have brought Fina to my father’s grave. That night, I ran until I was exhausted, and still pushed myself. Temilla gave me a potion and a salve, which I took to Fina. I waited by her side until morning, but even with the medicines, she did not wake from her slumber. Oh, how terrible was that waiting. But it was not as bad as here, where I not only worry over Fina’s fate, but my own as well.
It was shortly after sunrise that the duke’s men found us. They accused me of defiling her, both with magic, and by raping her. Spirits, I know how it must have looked. They beat me and dragged me back to the castle.
It is not easy to sleep. As soon as my eyes close, a touch on my foot or a rustle by my ear wakes me. I felt pinching teeth on my leg, as if one of the rats was teasing me. I kicked it, and felt the kick connect. It scrabbled, but my kick sent it out of my cubby and tumbling down the vertical shaft of the catacombs. It gained me a short respite.
Posted by
Goran at 4:26 PM
Friday, June 19th in the 9th year of the King's reign
Goran,
Ivar
convinced the guard to let me speak with Ivar. He is held in one of the narrow dungeons of the castle. I had to lie on my stomach, and speak through a trapdoor in the ceiling of the prison.
The prison was dark, but dry, and I hope without vermin. I could barely make out Ivar in the dim light that came in through the trap, but I knew he was held in thick chains. This is the custom when a spell-maker is arrested—iron breaks all spells, they say.
“Oh, Goran,” Ivar said when he raised his head listlessly towards me. “Is Fina awake?”
“They say she has opened her eyes, but she has not spoken yet.”
“And Temilla?” I wondered that Ivar would think of Temilla at such a time.
“She is well, to my knowledge,” I replied.
“Good.” Ivar sighed. “It’s all my fault, Goran, but I never meant for any harm to come to Fina. Tell them—”—he hesitated—”—tell Duke Sorley I love her, and she me.”
I doubted this would help either Ivar or Fina, so I instead asked how he was, and whether I could do anything. I promised to speak with the justiciar and to find men who would stand surety for Ivar to appear at the Lord’s Court in three months. We had but a few moments.
“All right, that’s enough,” growled Urvain as he dropped the door with a thump. “In my time, he’d’ve hung already. No need for the jury when he’s apprehended in the act.”
“You said you’d let him have a blanket.”
“He won’t freeze at night,” Urvain said.
The justiciar will arrive in a few days. I can do little for Ivar until then.
Posted by
Goran at 9:13 PM
Wednesday, June 17th in the 9th year of the King's reign
Fina,
Ivar
wo nights ago the castle was in uproar. The young lady Fina did not return for the evening meal, and eventually her servants admitted that she had gone to tryst with Ivar. Lady Reiling is furious, but few of us believe she knew nothing of Fina and Ivar.
Many men were turned out of their beds, both here and in the village. Even I joined in the search and hoped that they had not been robbed—or slain—by bandits.
In the morning I returned and slept a few hours. It was the Cellarer who told me that Ivar was arrested for assaulting Fina. I went immediately to old Serrat, who confirmed the truth of it. “Spirits take him,” he grumbled, swallowing a yawn. “Nigh on three leagues we had to carry the young Lady, and not once did she stir. Blood will tell, said I, blood will always tell.”
held her hand in mine as we walked to my father’s tree. The day was pleasant, the sun strong and the wind warm with golden pollen. She unbound her braid, and her hair laughed about her face. The walk passed faster than it ever had with Kean.
When we reached the end of our walk, I drank the manna, and rested my head on her lap. My vision faded and I found myself before my father’s yew tree, its fruit blazing like a host of fiery eyes.
“My son! You have returned! And so soon!” It had been over four months, hardly a short time, but I only nodded.
“I have a problem, Father, and you are the most knowledgeable wizard I know.” Not necessarily true, but I had my own reasons for not approaching Kean or Dalbach.
He stroked his beard. He said, “No need for flattery. But you are correct.”
I told him of the test of magic. He snorted. “Why do you care what a blacksmith believes?”
“Well, he’s my friend.”
“Not much of one. If I tried to convince every idiot I knew, then I’d have accomplished nothing. And the same will happen to you.”
Sensing it a waste of time to argue with him, I nodded.
“And he can’t be that close of a ‘friend’ if you’ve been traveling for such a short while … unless?” He cocked one bushy eyebrow and scowled.