y master’s body has been given to the fire, and his spirit given to the heavens, two days now, and that time has weighed heavily on me.

I gave no instructions to the forge boy, but this morning he nervously started the fires before disappearing completely.

Two weeks ago Karl demanded of me five hundred long arrowheads, or bodkins, in time for the Moot.  Today Karl came to berate me, for he has seen me do no smithcraft in several days.  He was angry and insisted I perform my duty for the Duke.  I grew wrathful with him, for I am a freeman and no castle slave who owes labor.  When I grasped one of the large hammers, he blanched and turned to leave without his usual swagger.

Then Lady Dalla was there, and she made me put the hammer down.  The spell which overcame me passed, and I was ashamed.

y preparations are complete. However, difficulties have plagued me as of late. In order to keep from being shamed again in front of Goran, I have been testing these new rituals prior to approaching him. The resultant failures sit coldly pensive on my workbench, as if they wonder why I lack the skill to transform them. After three failures, I can waste no more valuable time and reagents.

After that last failure, I grew angry and smashed an iron file against the table. I broke a flask, and further enraged, I cursed and hurled the tool against the wall. I fumed, shaking my head and pounding my fist against the table. So little was working as it should.

It was at this inopportune moment that Fina knocked on my door. I stifled another curse and picked up the file, noting the large chip in the wall.

“Come in, come in,” I said.

“What is going on in here?” said Fina.

have spent much of my time this past week at his side.  He has no family anymore, except for the widow of his brother, in whose house he has lived for longer than I can remember.

It is difficult to watch a man die.

Fat Kalla hovered about (I would have sent him away).  “Brithe will guide you to the after-world,” he said to Coraff.  “I will make the sacrifices to gain you favor with the spirit of the spring.”

I remember Coraff’s eyes were open.  He turned his face slightly to Kalla and then let out a long breath.  The blanket slipped down.  I thought his time had passed, but after some moments we saw he was sleeping peacefully.  Coraff’s sister pressed a few coins of silver into Kalla’s greedy hands, and thanked him.

There were a few others who came as well.  Temilla came every day, of course, with ropy-thick syrups she dribbled slowly down the back of Coraff’s throat.  Perhaps it helped.  He did not seem in pain, though calloused fingers clutched the woolen blanket.

The Lady Dalla came, but she asked for me, not being introduced to Coraff’s sister.  She asked me if Coraff perhaps desired to speak with her.  I told her that Kalla had already come.

She nodded.  “He will no doubt perform some rituals to appease the local spirit.  It is well-meant, but I prefer to ease the living, if it is in my power to do so.”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

ina opened the door. Lady Reiling’s apartment spread out before us. A bed fitted with tall posts and curtains dominated the far side, and a plush rug decorated with an ornate interlocking chain design bore it stoically. Tapestried walls told the Romancing of Elaine on each side of a pair of double doors, which were open to the breeze. Outside the doors stood Brenna (she insists I call her by first name), upon her balcony, staring out into the morning fog. A small cage sat on the stones beside her. She raised her hands, and a dove flapped vigorously and disappeared into the mists.

“Have a seat,” said Karl. “There are no strangers here.” He had been the one who bid Fina to open the door, and sat off to the side, eating at a small table.

Fina pulled my hand and we joined Karl. The table was laden with eggs, buttered bread, bacon, and spiced tea. It was a humble morning meal, not what I envisioned the nobility eating, but it smelled delicious.

Brenna took a seat, and we ate and talked.

“A love letter for Simon?” said Fina, referring to the dove, which were often trained to carry messages. Simon was Brenna’s husband, and lord of the neighboring island of Durain.

Karl snorted.