Ch. 2 - Old Places

Rula

§

Silver Hill was an uglier town than I expected it to be. Sounds pretty, but mining's an ugly job, I suppose, and the town showed it. Tailings piles everywhere and miners in piss-poor moods. I wanted to turn tail and leave soon as we was in the place, but we had a job to do. Azeline lost her confidence soon's she was in the middle of civilization again and wasn't sure where to start, so we all prodded her get a feel for the local attitudes in a tavern. It could be the rest of us were wantin' a drink at that point, too, so we found ourselves the Squeaky Cart Tavern. The temperature lowered once we were inside, though, since none of us looked a thing like a miner. Conversations went quiet and we all sat down and had ale. Well, those of us with a lick of sense had ale; Azeline asked for wine, and could barely choke down a couple of sips, and that was with a chunk of bread.

It didn't seem like we were going to be able to hear much with everyone keepin' to themselves, so Quaynlis started singing a song. It was a filthy little ditty, and that was well-received, and everyone warmed up a bit more when Azeline said she wanted to learn to gamble. Mostly, she lost herself some money, which I suppose was a fine plan for making friends. Soon enough, one of the miners was tellin' her the trouble, how the silver was all out, and the town wouldn't sustain in the same way it had before. There weren't much to say after that, and we left the tavern in a drizzle, figuring we'd better get ourselves a place to stay for the night, and a few gentlemen came out from the alley and tried to relieve us of our money. There were as many of them as us, which meant that they were outclassed and didn't even know it. My sword is like an extension of myself, and I had it in my hand before any of them could even get to me. There were two close by and I swiped my sword across the first one's throat and jabbed at the next, and by that time, my friends had made short work of the others. Our attackers ran, well, all of 'em excepting the one on the ground with his throat slit, and we continued on our way.

First inn we went to was called “M'Lady's Chamber,” and a posh man who introduced himself as Gorice made it clear he didn't think we could pay. Granted, we didn't look like nobs, but it seems they don't get too many travelers Gorice would find acceptable. He didn't like it much either when Quaynlis, with a perfectly straight face, asked “How did a lady of quality such as yourself end up in Silver Hill?” He suggested we try the Silver Squirrel instead, and we weren't of a mind to argue. The Silver Squirrel was a nice enough place too, and more our speed downstairs, with pipe music and rowdy singing. It was set to be a fine night until Azeline ordered dinner enough for two people just to feed her dog. None of us could stop her in time, and it was clear there weren't much goodwill to be had from the townspeople after that. Quaynlis sighed, seeming a bit put off after talking so much about finding a pretty girl or two for the night. Then he got this little smile, and said he was thinking he'd like to go to bed, and would Slaange like to go to bed too? I tried not to choke on my ale as Slaange went a little pink in the ears and agreed, and they went upstairs.

Now, it's not as if I don't know my brother's preferences. He's never looked twice at a girl, not even when we were younger and first learning just what it was that boys and girls got up to with each other. And I'm not saying it bothers me any, the idea of one man getting his pleasure in another man, but when it's your own brother, you don't really want to know all the details. A story or two, yes, but you don't want to hear him in the next room rolling about and groaning, and you certainly don't want Azeline staring at you with those big wide eyes and asking if you think they're all right. Quaynlis is an attractive man and I'm happy for Slaange, truly I am, but it sours the mood a bit to listen in and try to make excuses. “Wrestling, Miz Ivy,” I said at last as I stripped down for my bath. “That's what they're doing. Practicing.”

“We should do that too,” she said, and I just sank into the hot water to pretend that I didn't exist.

In the morning, I avoided Slaange's eyes so I wouldn't think about it all, and if it hurt his feelings any, it served him right for what I'd had to go to sleep to the night before. Azeline decided she had to talk to someone who might know for sure if the mine was drying up, so she went to talk animal care with the teamsters. She helped settle a mule that kicked out at Arun, and once she got comfy with the animal handlers, one of 'em told her that there was still silver underground, but it got too hot and the air too foul that deep in the mines, and they couldn't bring it out.

That seemed to settle the question, and we were glad to leave the mining town. Quaynlis, though, had different plans than going right back to Lord Gardener and sharing the news. He said we would be going by Blackbane Hall, or the ruins of it, where the Gardeners used to live before they reclaimed the Gardener heritage. None of us were keen to get back, and the way Quaynlis told the story made it sound awfully romantic, so we agreed we'd go to Blackbane first and let him do his treasure hunting there.

My brother was looking spooked right away when we got there. He's not superstitious, mind, just rather unimpressed with untamed nature. Arun went off barking after a rabbit, and Quaynlis took off for the ruined palisades seemingly without a care in the world, but the rest of us proceeded a little more cautiously. Ahead of us was the remains of what had been a great hall, and the rest of the building partly intact behind it. Around the back of the building was a huge dark tangle of apple trees. I've always thought apple trees looked good and wholesome, but these seemed wrong, somehow, made it like a threatening forest rather than an overgrown orchard. As I was admiring this view, I heard a choked little noise from Slaange, and in careful tones, he asked Ivy if she knew whether a huge green snake with red eyes was like to be dangerous. Ivy said they were very poisonous, and Slaange went a little pale at that, because he had damn near stepped on one and it was looking at him now like it was considering whether he'd be tasty.

One wrong move could get my brother killed. But when I practiced with my water dancing master, he told me I needed to be quick as a snake. He caught little brown snakes that had a painful, though not deadly, bite, and put them in big cages. Then he would steal my things, and put them in the center of the cages, so that I would have to be quick as a snake to retrieve them without getting bitten. I did get bitten of course, many times over. I spent weeks with my hands and forearms swollen and in agony. Then, one day, my hand moved quicker than the serpent. One day, I learned to be as fast – faster than – a snake. I couldn't allow myself to think about Slaange, because if I did, I would worry. The universe was just me, and my blade, and the snake. And I sliced its head off before it could move.

Slaange unfroze himself, and he knelt to carefully harvest one of the poison glands from the snake, chiding me on having damaged the other. Ungrateful little snot, my brother. He didn't want to go into the ruins, but he wanted even less to be left outside alone with the snakes, so he reluctantly followed us in.

The wood was rotten and the floors were caving in at points, and we had to move carefully. Well, that's what I'm good at, so when the others edged along a beam like they might die, I practically danced across it. Felt good to really move, after feeling like one big saddle sore out on the road. We explored around, and when Quaylis met a door he couldn't get through, he generally used his maul to smash through it. At the bottom of a set of rickety spiral stairs, we found a bunch of clay jars with lead seals. Quaynlis pried one open, and inside was the sweetest, best mead I've ever tasted. It had had years to settle, which meant we would have to siphon it off the top to keep the quality, but we all figured we could come back for it. We sat and had a drink and didn't realize that the sweetness was attracting company. Wasn't until we was covered in big biting ants that we saw a need to get out of there. And as we stomped our way up the stairs, we learned the buggers had wings too. And then I noticed that our bold adventurer Quaynlis was frozen at the bottom of the stairs. “Slaange, help me!” I yelled, and got an arm around one side of Quaynlis and Slaange got him on the other side, and we dragged him up the stairs. I slapped him across the face to snap him out of it while Slaange and Ivy spread saltpeter around to deter the ants.

We made camp that night, and promised one more foray into Blackbane because Quaynlis had found his adventuring spirit again. He crashed through another door, one made of iron this time – Now, I know this is my brother's territory, but the man has surprising muscle, and it flexes under his shirt when he lifts his maul. It's not bad watching, is all I'm saying. Behind the door we found a smaller hall with a bunch of tapestries, and a giant shield with the Felsward arms that made Quaynlis very happy. He sat at the high table, clearly pretending at being lord, while the rest of us poked about. I'll not deny any man his fantasies, but it all seems a bit silly. Then again, he comes from nobler stock than some of us, so maybe it's something in the blood. We ended that little excursion looking through the abandoned kitchen and finding a giant nest of biting rats, and once more, left Blackbane Hall as quickly as we could manage.

With a promise to Quaynlis that we would return before too long, we headed back to Highgarden, where Azeline had the thankless job of reporting bad news to Lord Arthyr.

Kai

§

The mines were nearly done for. That was what Ivy's party found, although they also reported that there was silver too far down to be reached. And nobody wants to go plunging into hot, deep... mines. Still, I could see my father sending people to their deaths over it, and that wasn't a cheery thought. There has to be another way to keep our land profitable. And on top of that, there's the Baratheons to deal with and their damnable new tolls, and the singularly thankless prospect of getting Tyrys a wife and an heir.

I discussed these things with my cousins, though the conversation about Tyrys was prompted mostly by Auntie Odette, who is getting less subtle in her hints that perhaps Florie would be a good and convenient match. I would really prefer to focus on making sure the Baratheons keep their distance.

Ch. 1 - New Blood

Kai

§

On a fine spring day when I was mostly concerned about being excited that another pretty cousin would be visiting Highgarden, Father was in a foul mood. He had been getting messages by raven that made him more and more grumpy, and Tyrys wasn't helping matters, mostly just removing himself to go play soldier in the courtyard. It was really irritating, because I don't like to have to worry about castle affairs. Well, other than my own. But with newcomers to Highgarden on the way, and I wanted to make sure that we presented a good front, and my glowering father and sweaty brother might let me down, so I had to interfere.

Tyrys was busy damn near murdering our master at arms when I went to talk to him. Where I am a little more lithe and slender, Tyrys looks like he should be charging into battle on a giant stallion, but most of us are of the mind that he needs an heir before he goes off to find a war to kill himself in. He had a wife, a pretty Baratheon girl, who died, as he likes to say, “murdering his son” in childbirth. We have bad luck, my brother and I, when it comes to women. I've been engaged three times, and none of them lived long enough to be my bride. It's not quite as important for me as it is for Tyrys though, and I've no doubt that much of my near future will be filled with trying to make sure he has a bride that won't break this time. But I digress. Tyrys reluctantly came away from his fight to tell me that it was none of my business to know what Father was so upset about. Thinking that was no way to have a brotherly conversation, I tugged him aside a bit more and to express concern over the stress everyone was feeling. Perhaps, I said, I could lessen his burden by offering him a night to relax and forget his worries. A night, specifically, with Ilsa, a girl I had planned to see that evening, but who I've noticed is rather partial to my brother too. I'd be more than happy, I said, to give up my evening, if he would tell me what was going on. It was probably Ilsa's ample charms more than mine that worked on him, but he lowered his voice and told me that word was coming in that Silver Hill was exhausted. A serious source of income for us, drying up fast. Now I could see why the mood of the castle was so dark.

Nevertheless, I endeavored to help hide the bad moods when we greeted Cousin Ravenka in the afternoon. I stood next to my other lovely cousin Florie, who had her fair hair decorated with ribbons for the occasion, and the neck of her gown dipping low enough to draw a man's eye. This man in particular. I dragged my gaze up in time to see our steward, my Auntie Odette, bustling forward to meet the arriving party with cakes and drinks. And then Ravenka came forward, a lovely little vision in exotic brocades, and I decided I would be her personal tour guide as much as I could get away with.

At the feast in her honor that night, she surprised everyone with some charming provincial manners and forwardness. They must do things very differently in the Free Cities, and despite some hissed directions from Florie, she insisted on serving Father wine. Adorable.

But then she was talking about the things that she had seen on her journey from King's landing, and one of those things was the toll they were exacting at Bitter Bridge. That got everyone's attention, though she told it so simply and sweetly that she couldn't have known just how unusual it was. She only remarked that the merchants she had traveled with had been deeply irritated by it. I saw Father going calculating, and he motioned Odette to him. I heard a muttered conversation about inviting (compelling, rather) Lord Caswell of Bitter Bridge and Lord Redwyne to come to our upcoming harvest festival. Odette bustled off to get letters written, and conversation turned more mundane. I was just inviting both of my cousins on a walk through the gardens afterwards when she came back and invited herself. By the Seven, you'd think that woman had an extra sense that informs her when I'm going to go off with girls. I mean, to be fair, she knows my habits. To be fairer, she's seen me watching Florie. But it's not as if I'm not discreet.

We walked, and eventually, when it became painfully obvious that Odette would not even let me charm either of the girls a little bit, the conversation turned towards the developing trouble at Silver Hill and Bitter Bridge. That Ravenka is a quick study, and listens well. She picked up on both issues right away, and we all wondered if it might be best to try and help to direct Father's attention. We could wait for the festival, not long off, to learn more about Caswell's alarming toll, but someone would have to go directly to Silver Hill to make see if, as had happened two generations before, the caretakers of Silver Hill were claiming a dry mine and taking the silver for themselves. We elected Odette, who has an efficient, polite way of making my father do what she wants, to go talk to him. That left me in the hall to flirt with the girls, which I think is a damned fine place to be.

Rula

§

Never pays to try and hobnob with nobles, I used to think, but the chit of a girl sitting in the stables with us hardly looked like a noble and hardly invited any fancy treatment. And besides, she was kin of the same bloodline. Azeline Ivy and her big ol' dog looked as if they'd be most at home roaming the woods like something out of a ballad, and from what I gathered, that's what she preferred to do, though her mum and dad didn't take so kindly to the thought. I didn't see what's got them so excitable, since she seems like a fine girl to me, but my mum made sure I spent my early years training as an assassin and the rest of them learning to fight, so I may not be the best judge of what's proper an' all. I'm a woman, but certainly not a lady.

My brother was sitting beside me, pretending not to know me while I told one of my filthy stories to our companions. Quaynlis, our fourth, had started it. Or maybe I'd started it. Anyway, we'd been exchanging back and forth a while, and Azeline was giggling and kept gasping at the impropriety of it all, but I figure a girl has to learn it all somewhere. A page interrupted us and said we had been asked inside to the kitchens. Slaange and I exchanged a glance, wondering at the long list of things we might be in trouble for. Still, the kitchen had fresh bread and more Meadowlark cider, so we all went along with it and trooped in to the kitchens.

Castle steward Odette Gardener stood in front of us, her matronly brow knit with some emotion I couldn't fathom. Like she was interested in us but afraid we might wee on the carpets like untrained puppies. She said that we were needed, as members of the extended family, to go on an exploratory trip to Silver Hill to investigate the mine there. Azeline's jaw about hit the floor when Odette said that she would be leading the party as a noble representative of Highgarden. I thought maybe it was some kind of joke for a moment, until Odette explained that they wanted someone who wasn't well-known as a member of court and who didn't look the part. None of us took badly to the idea either. I don't think any among us is much of a leader, or rather I doubt the rest of us want to be the one standing in front when one of the nobs gets flighty or upset. Better let 'em take care of their own and let the rest of us say we was just doing what we was told, thankyouverramuch.

We set off next morning for Silver Hill, and I realized I'm not much of a hand at riding 'cross the country, and neither is my horse so used to it, either. We've been city folk too long, I suppose. Azeline though looked as if she was born to it. She made our camp as if it was the easiest thing in the world, and there was even a rain shelter for whoever was standing guard. Our second night out, I was on guard and I heard a noise. I looked up into a pair of eyes glittering in the light of my little fire, and realized I had a bear in front of me, and it was about to attack. A sensible girl would have run the other direction, but I'm not a sensible girl, so I yelled for the others, drew out my steel, and stuck it in near the beast's neck. I hurt it, but it gave me a right mean whack along my side. By that time, though, the others were roused, and Quaynlis came roaring out of the tent with his big (mace? Cudgel? Wtf is that thing again?) and hit the bear across the back. It stumbled and I got some distance, and Azeline had nocked an arrow to her bow then and shot it between the eyes. The bear crumpled, and without so much as a blink, Azeline skinned it where it lay. Handy girl, her.

Ch. 3 - Lines in the Sand

Drezielle
§

Ser Orvus had done well in charge of Tynker during their absence, and Zel was grateful that for once, things seemed to be working right. The blood collectively on their hands did not disturb her so much. She had seen far more petty murders, with less at stake, and she knew Felsward would have been a danger to them all. Now, they might have a fighting chance. But they were only back at the tower a couple of weeks when Ser Orvus brought word that the miller's daughters, returning with the new millstone, had seen an army on the Rose Road, coming this way. Zel was sent out as a scout to learn what she could.

It was getting cold at night, but she had dealt with cold before, and Zel left her horse at the bottom of a hill and went sneaking towards the camp. It was a large army, over a thousand strong, certainly larger than the forces that trained at Tynker. They had set up a good picket, and guards, and she tried sneaking through, but a piece of her clothing snagged on one of the lines and the bells attached to it rang. She backed out and ran, and made her way painstakingly to the other side of the camp. It was marshy here, and she ended up with one leg wet and freezing nearly to the thigh. This time, she decided to go through the guards. She threw a knife, catching one in the throat, and as his partner looked over to see what had happened, she rushed him and stabbed him before he could cry out. She was at last in the camp, and was trying to edge along the tents to overhear what she could, but luck was not on her side. She tripped over a tent pole and the noise had guards running towards her. She had no choice but to run, out of the camp and back to her horse, and take off back to Tynker.

She arrived cold and damp and feeling ill. She gasped out what little she had learned and went to bed. While she rested, the others began making preparations for war. They had learned enough about Tynker's defenses to be able to capitalize on their location, and that would most certainly help. By the time Zel was on her feet again, there had been a barricade built, and fire pits, and numerous other preparations for siege made. They were finished just in time, as the army hove into view. Four riders came forward and asked for parlay, and Zel rode out with the others to talk. From the start, it did not go well. One of them was in shining, fancy armor, with a standard Zel had never seen, and Cyril explained in a low voice that it was the symbol of the Sons of the Sept, an order of holy knights thought to have vanished into history. They tried to speak to Toby, who told them to leave. Then they started appealing to Maester Cyril's reason, and Toby, feeling slighted at being ignored, shouted for them to go. When he felt they had ignored his warning and the others' protests long enough, Toby drew his sword and attacked. Zel got out of the way. There was a skirmish, and Toby injured one of the men badly enough that they all retreated, and Florie had to get in front of him before he would even listen to her telling him to ride back. It had been answer enough for the army at the mouth of the valley, and they rode in. Zel helped get their own forces ready, and soothing those who thought they had seen their lord strike the first blow. A few more stretched truths, Zel knew, would hardly be anything at this point.

Tobias
§

Tobias would have faced the army head on himself, but Florie had begged him to stay back, to lead by shouting orders rather than by example. He quelled the battle rage that came so easily to him, and started relaying orders. Cyril and Florie would be in charge of the men still in the tower, and Zel would help Tobias hold the base of the tower for as long as possible. It was a good plan, he knew, and it utilized their smaller forces to the best advantage, but the army coming towards them was formidable. He would in any case put up a good fight. Tower archers and archers on the cliff side felled the front line of the attacking forces, and then it was a battle in earnest, all clashing blades. Toby rode through, taking down enemies wherever he could, more comfortable in flat out battle than in leadership.

The hastily constructed barricades held as well as they could have hoped, but enough work by enemy soldiers, and those walls began to fall. And then came their horsed men, and the fight got bloodier. Tobias was forced to order their troops back behind the pits they had dug, and he gave the signal for Cyril's archers to light the fires. Flaming arrows hit the mark, and the fires roared up to catch their oncoming enemies by surprise, burning brilliant green. He could hear his wife shouting from the tower, encouraging their men that this was a sign, that the Seven were truly with them in their struggle. Lit by holy green fire, the battle continued.

Drezielle
§

During the battle, Zel accounted well for herself, but she knew that her strengths were better suited to other pursuits, and even as she fought, she found herself watching the battle as if from farther away. Their enemies were now almost all in the valley, and if they were forced to retreat, they could be cut off. If, of course, there was anyone to cut them down as they drew back. They had men on the cliff sides but no way to reach them, to send a message that they should move along and get to the mouth of the valley. Zel made a decision, and rode away from the battle, to the back of the tower. She shed her heaviest armor, and began to climb the cliff face. She was dizzyingly high when she slipped and then caught herself, heart pounding. A fall now would mean death. She tried again, but she was stuck where she was, and her grip would not hold for much longer. Then she heard Florie's voice faintly from the top of the tower, shouting where a handhold could be seen. With that, Zel managed to drag herself up. The climb was more painful now, and she had another terrifying slip, barely managing to catch herself on a protruding root. She didn't know how far she was from the top, only that she must keep climbing. Then, something hit her lightly on the shoulder. A rope was being lowered. She scrambled to hold onto it, and let the astonished men at the top pull her up. Now, she could direct them to where they would be most useful.

Tobias
§

Though their enemies had been a little stunned by the miracle fire at first, they had nonetheless pressed on, and the tower forces were forced to draw back even more and prepare to defend the tower itself. Toby knew he was supposed to go back in, but his wife and Cyril could easily command the men inside. And he could not in good conscience, leave men wounded outside, doomed to die because they could not retreat. So he got as many into the tower as he could, and ordered the gates shut and barred, with him outside. He saw Zel on the cliff, but could not think what she was doing there, and then the fighting was too brutal to think of much else.

This was more like it, Toby thought, battling without having to order others around. His battle rage was so strong that he didn't notice the small wounds he took, and barely realized that as he fought, his horse took injuries too. The animal was dying underneath him, and as it collapsed, he had just enough presence of mind to jump free of it. Then he heard more hoofbeats, and as he turned to look, he saw Corwin leading a new horse from behind the tower. The boy was pale, but clearly determined to do his duty, and with no way to send him back now, Toby took the horse and ordered Corwin to stay close. No sooner had he done that than a lance hit him full on in the shoulder, and Toby turned to see one of the Sons of the Sept readying himself for another blow. Toby turned and fought, but the paladin had not been fighting so hard as him, and though Toby was plenty ready to fight more, his limbs seemed sluggish. The man had dropped the lance and gotten out a morning star, and he swung it. It hit Toby square in the chest, and he could hardly see for the pain. He felt something crumple, felt like he couldn't breathe. He willed himself to move, and managed to stab his opponent, but it was not a killing blow. The man swung the morning star again, but then his horse shied. Corwin ran back away from it, and Toby could see what had happened. The young squire had stabbed the horse in the flank. This gave Toby the time he needed to heft his sword and swing it at the paladin's neck. It struck true, and the man fell, nearly beheaded.

Then, with the world a red mist around him, Tobias saw that the attacking forces were retreating, and being mowed down by archers on the cliffs, which must be Zel's doing. And then he didn't see anything at all.

Florie
§

As soon as it was safe to unbar the gates, Florie had men go out and fetch Tobias, her heart pounding. She had seen him slump over his horse, and after the fight she had witnessed, she feared the worst. She got him inside, and found that he was still breathing at least, and she called immediately for Cyril to tend to him. As they carefully took his battered armor off, she saw that where the morningstar had hit his chest, the charm he wore had crushed against his skin, and though he bled, nothing seemed to be broken. The Faith had protected him. Florie got out of Cyril's way as he worked, though she stayed close. At last, Tobias opened his eyes again, and croaked out that he wanted to knight Zel. He would not be persuaded to wait, and when Zel was brought in, he forced himself up and ordered them all outside, so he could anoint Zel in the ways of the new Faith, under the skies and with the blessings of the Seven as he now knew them. With so many changes, it was a little thing to knight Zel as a woman, and to give her a name in place of Flowers. A little stunned, she knelt before Toby, and rose as Dame Drezielle Ivy. Florie ushered her husband back into the tower and into bed, and went about taking stock of what they had. She was worried about a second push against them, with so many of their own wounded or dead, and Tobias injured as he was.

She needn't have worried. In the morning, the remainder of the forces that had amassed against them were gone. They had proven Tynker too defensible. Florie was pleased at this, but now they must use what precious little time they had to try to get into Highgarden. They sent women into the city, to seduce and manipulate important people, to wait for a signal and carry out key assassinations, to open the gates when the army arrived. Zel began working with a handpicked group that would be able to climb the walls and infiltrate secretly into Highgarden when the time came. Florie started writing letters. Their own forces were not enough, not even if they amassed more over another month or two. So she wrote to the Dornish, choosing their royalty and a few important families to send word to. Dorne had never bent the knee, had always remained apart whenever they could, and if anyone was sympathetic to a region trying to break away, it would be them. She entreated them to send their forces, and promised that their rule would mean that The Reach would no longer bow to the king on the Iron Throne. She agreed to acknowledge and help protect Dornish sovereignty. Then, Florie spent a great deal of time working on a letter to Axel Florent. She knew she could not trust him, but she knew too that she needed more than his verbal support. She needed to know that he really would acknowledge her as a Gardener and as the rightful leadership of Highgarden. Florie deliberated, and then in her letter asked for Florent to meet with them in secret, to bend the knee, and to take his place as the Hand of the Gardeners.

They met in Meadowlark, since it was a location they knew well and felt comfortable in, and it would be far away enough from Tynker that Florent would not see just how thin their forces were. It was important that they get his pledge before he could raise doubts. Florent met them, clearly unhappy. Florie began to think, as he talked, that she had lost him. He said it was an insult to be asked to bend his knee before anything had been achieved, and to an Ore, no less. Tobias, showing remarkable restraint, said that Florent would be bending the knee to Florie first and foremost, and he should be willing to do that. Florent challenged that if he was to pledge to Gardener, that they stop the pretense of other names, and take up Gardener in truth. Florie agreed that they would, had been ready to discard what little secrecy they had left already. She asked Zel and Cyril to get the Gardener colors ready. Defeated on that front, Florent turned to Tobias, and said that he would only swear if Tobias made the same oath of loyalty. Florie watched as her husband nearly laughed, and assured that he would gladly swear once again to serve her. Then he sobered, and motioned them outside. They would swear, he said, under the skies. Florent stopped, frowning at this, and Florie blinked at him, and said that it was the way of their Faith. It was clear that Florent thought their belief quaint, but she didn't mind. She didn't need him to believe the same. She just needed him to swear. And so Florent, along with Toby, swore to serve her as Queen. Florie, more thrilled than she liked to admit at hearing the supplication, told him to rise as the Hand of the Gardeners.

She arranged with Florent for his forces to meet hers outside of Highgarden in a month's time. She spent that month making plans, trying to make every small advantage bend to her will.

There was still no word from Dorne.

Cyril
§

At last, it was time to make the move on Highgarden. Cyril was as keenly aware of the risks as anyone, but could not permit himself to believe they might fail. The uncertainty might weaken them, and he knew that the others looked to him for guidance. Still, Highgarden was every bit as impressive as memory served, and though their manufactured famine had just started to hit hard enough to worry the city, it was not as weakened as all that. They had to hope that getting easily past the walls would give them the edge they needed. They gathered with Florent's forces, and then lit the bonfire that was their signal to the women inside the walls. They led the battle inside, and fought hard, but Highgarden's forces were no small thing, and the first day, they were driven back outside the walls again, forced to retreat to a safe distance and regroup. From the top of the wall, guards called down until Florie and Tobias came forward, and said that Lord Tyrell offered amnesty for their army if the two of them would turn themselves over to the King's justice. They refused, of course, and that was the end of any talks.

They still had some people on the inside, but it would not be enough, and Cyril could see their forces disheartened by how easy it had seemed for the Tyrells to push them back. Cyril considered, and decided that he would burn a green hand into the hillside, to worry their opponents and give a bit of heart to their own forces. The scope of what he had in mind, though, he could not do alone. He knew that Florie and Toby were talking with Drezielle, getting ready to send her over the wall with her group, to spend the next two days making trouble in the city, stirring up dissent. When Zel finished talking to them, Cyril called her over and drew her aside. He said she would need her and one or two of her most discreet people to help him, and then he risked telling her his secret. He talked about how he had been making the green fires, and watched her expression change. It was a little disappointing, she said, but not surprising. And she would help him. A green hand burned on one side of the city while Zel scaled the wall on the other side.

In the morning, a thin blanket of snow covered the ground. They began preparing for a couple of days of healing and repairs before moving again. The next battle would be the last, Cyril knew. Winter was here, and Florie's resolve was that she would take Highgarden or die in the attempt. And Tobias would protect her, or die trying. Cyril and Zel would do their best to serve them, and they would fail or fall with their lord and lady.

They were assembling, somewhat bleakly in the snow, when there was a noise over the hillside. As they turned to look, they saw hundreds of men, many on fine horses, and at their head was a dark-skinned, handsome young man dressed in clothing entirely unsuitable for the weather. He rode forward, and introduced himself as Prince Elias Martell, son of Dorian Martell, current leader of Dorne. He greeted them with a grin and asked Florie if she truly meant what she had written. She said she did, and Elias grinned more widely, and said there was one more concession they required. Her firstborn, if a boy, would be fostered with the Martells, and if a girl, would be engaged to one. Florie glanced to her husband, then dipped her head and said it would be done. Elias laughed and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her full on the lips, and said they were allied.

Tobias frowned a bit, but he stepped forward to put a hand on Florie's back. "You must be cold," he said.

"No," Elias told him, "For the battle fire runs hot in our veins."

Toby's lips quirked. "Oh. I thought to invite you into Highgarden."

And then Cyril had archers to command, and they gave their signal, and the armies of Dorne flooded into the city with them. Cyril watched the Tyrells fall before them. Luthor Tyrell was killed in battle, and Lady Olenna taken hostage. Florie stepped into the castle and demanded that Olenna be brought before her. She said that Lady Tyrell would be locked away, deep in the dark, and maybe trotted out to see Florie's success. Cyril watched the girl he had seen frightened and uncertain not so long before backhand the Queen of Thorns across the face, and take Toby's hand to walk together to their new thrones.

Cyril stepped over behind them, and Zel did the same. Cyril wasn't certain what his place would be in this new order, but he knew he had what he had promised himself long before. The world would know his name.

Ch. 2 - Home to Roost

Tobias
§

Tobias knew that Florie was troubled, but he couldn't comfort her as much as she wanted him to. He could not tell her his thoughts on The Seven. And so he left her sleeping early in the m1. Albuquorning, and went to the top of the tower, and prayed on his own. He held onto his charm, studied the seven glittering bits caught in the copper wire, and thought how things had gone right for him when he had listened to the heresies. On the fifth morning of waking up alone, though, Florie found him there, and she asked him what he was doing. Watching the sunrise, he told her, not wanting to have a fight. Just watching the sunrise. Toby had never been the best liar, though, and Florie didn't believe them. "What is that in your hand?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Toby lied. "Come, let's go get some breakfast."

"Fine," she said, not moving. "Let's go."

After a couple minutes of fruitlessly trying to get Florie to go ahead, and her demanding to know what he was keeping from her, Toby saw what it was coming to. Frustrated, Toby threw the charm so it hit her square in the chest, and fell to the ground. Florie picked it up, and stared at him, and Toby could hardly stand to see the expression in her eyes. Then she tried to walk away, and he called after her that she was a coward if she couldn't face the truth she'd asked for. The fight began in earnest, then. Florie yelled that she had been following the will of the Seven and to commit heresy against them was unthinkable, and Toby yelled that everything good that had happened to them had been in line with the so-called heresies. He told her she was a fool if she couldn't see it, and furthermore, that she had even comitted the heresy of the Maiden by giving herself to him for love. They went back and forth, and at last Toby left her at the top of the tower, and stormed to get his sword and saddle a fast horse. He needed to be away, away from his wife and his unwanted responsibilities. So he rode out and through the valley, with no particular goal in mind. He interrupted some hunters, and his anger dissipated with the slight embarrassment of having missed them, hiding in the grass as they were. Not long after that, Corwin caught up to him, earnest and concerned, and without any other good options, he let the boy come with him. He found a tavern and bought ale for them both, telling Corwin gruffly that he could have half.

There was a commotion outside, and annoyed by the noise, Tobias went outside. He saw two of the traveling people being pushed by a small group of people towards a tree, and the ringleader of the group was carrying a length of rope. Toby stopped them, demanding to know what was going on. They were punishing heretics, the crowd said, and Toby's features hardened. As their lord, he commanded them to stop, and said that in his lands, people could worship as they liked. In silence, he freed the two and took them into the tavern. He talked to them for a while, and assured them he was of their faith, and offered his hospitality to them. They talked as they went home, traveling slowly because Corwin had managed to get rather drunk. He settled them in at home, and learned from the others that Florie had not come down from the tower. He would, he resolved with a heavy heart, send her home to her father the moment she asked. They went in the afternoon to retrieve the cart the young couple had been in when the mob attacked, and then Toby went to one of the rooms to slump into a chair, brooding, trying not to think of Florie.

When it was just getting dark, she stepped into the room, her features pale. "Tobias," she said softly, and he didn't look at her.

"I'll send you home," he said. "To your father. You will be blameless." And Toby would be killed as a heretic.

"I don't want to go home," she said, and he looked at her at last. "I thought today, as I stood at the top of the tower. And I listened. And you were right. All of the signs from the gods have happened out in the world, not in the sept. And if I accept that they have guided me, I must accept this new faith."

Without another thought, Tobias smiled and lifted her into his arms.

Drezielle
§

Drezielle had spent an anxious day worrying over Tobias and Florie, worrying at the way Florie stood immobile at the top of the tower, refusing food, and drink and even a cloak to combat the growing chill. Things were, she thought grimly, over. She didn't know where she would end up. But then Florie descended, and went to talk to Tobias, and suddenly they were laughing. There might be hope after all.

In the morning, they all dined with the two travelers, and the man explained that they had not even meant to be in these lands, since it was close to here his sister had been attacked as she traveled with her parents. She had been saved by a knight and his friends, he said. They pulled out the charms they had been given, and showed him, and he said it was indeed his mother's work. Fate had brought him here, he said. Zel noticed that Florie seemed to have regained a keenness in her expression, and it was clear that now she was plotting again. Tobias talked about being willing to fight for their beliefs, and when they had finished with breakfast, Toby and Florie took Zel and Cyril aside and the planning began fresh.

They had always lacked support, and there was no way that they could rally an army from the people of their lands. But now they had something they could use-- the defense of what believers called the True Faith. Those of the Faith were facing extermination, and now that even Florie accepted the new beliefs, they could provide a haven and leadership. They had a great deal to do. The first thing was to establish a presence, and eventually a link between the reclaimation of the Gardener heritage and the True Faith. They would also need to spread the word, quietly, that their lands would harbor those facing persecution. Over the next month, Zel went on numerous small missions to neighboring lands. Her job was to spread the Gardener symbol, a green handprint, as well as caricatures of septons and other symbols supporting the new faith. Zel was also charged with putting these things in unlikely places, and she snuck where she could to do so. People were starting to move into the land, and next, Florie set her sights on her former home. Without Felsward land, and the resources it offered, they were still far too weak to make their move on Highgarden, even though they intended something more secretive than an all-out war. They planned a trip for the end of the month, and Florie seemed resolute that she would convince her father to support the cause, or do what must be done if he would not.

Florie
§

Now that Florie's conversion was complete, she felt renewed, as if she were at last seeing clearly those things that had been obscured before. Her day in the chill on Tynker Tower, staring over the land and listening to the birds and the wind, had made her realize everything she supported meant supporting what she had thought to be heresy. She was right, though, she knew, so it could not be heresy, not in the eyes of The Seven. Now, she knew things that must be done, and she could not permit herself to waver.

Florie tried not to let her nerves overtake her as she traveled with the others to see her father. She would have to resolve to fight him if he would not act with them, come what may. The others were tense too, she could tell, but it was plenty warranted. She was pointing them on what was swiftly becoming a revolution. She had originally thought to take Highgarden from the Tyrells, to use that seat of power to force the other major families to accept the shift. But now they seemed to be drawing a firmer line, and she had to accept that now, achieving their goal would mean a major split in Westeros. The kingdoms had been united by force, after all, and what they were promising was a return to older ways, to a world where Gardeners had been kings and queens of the Reach, a time before the forced merging of the kingdoms. It was a heady thought, but when Blackbane hove into view, something in Florie shrank back. Not so long ago, she had been a little girl chasing butterflies in the fields here. Now, she was pretending to have power she did not, rebelling against every authority she had grown up with. She did her best to steel herself as their party was admitted carefully into Blackbane.

She started talking with her father, and from the beginning, it did not go well. Garon was offended by the request, because it implied that they were not being subservient to him, their lord. Florie tried to sidestep it, but it was a sticking point for him. She was going to take another tactic when she had a shock. Jonys showed up at the door asking if there were guests, and the way he stared and felt his way into the room showed him to be mostly blind. Garon said the Maester should look to him. Jonys no longer bled, he said, but now he could barely see. Florie hugged her older brother carefully. Like everything here, he seemed diminished, and not just because of his ailments. She steeled herself, and told her father again that the uprising was coming, and that she would be at the front of it, as the Seven had guided her. Her father spat something about the heresy, and tried to persuade her that Argent would hate her for her sins. Florie couldn't help it; she lost what calm she had, and they were nearly shouting at each other when at last it was too much for her. She put her head in her hands, in tears. "You're right," she mumbled. "Of course you're right."

"Florie!" Toby hissed.

She knew everyone was looking at her, but she could barely breathe for tears. How could she have thought she could really go through with this?

Cyril
§

Cyril knew he could not permit Florie to let her father think he had won here, but the girl wouldn't seem to listen to anyone now. He could not help her until the situation was changed, and luckily he knew how to do it. Though he had helped in the last month of planning, he had also spent time alone with his kits, working out a few secrets he knew he should have. Florie and Tobias were ardently faithful, and though Cyril would not make the mistake of calling his friends credulous, he knew that religion made people inclined to believe what they might not otherwise. Cyril knew you couldn't count on distant gods, even the more personable variations promised by the "true faith," for the signs their followers craved. To motivate a group of believers, especially one being asked to go to war, miracles might be necessary. Cyril did not believe there were any miracles, and perhaps there never had been. But he did know arts that would appear miraculous, and he set to work to make sure that for his lord and lady, he could secretly produce miraculous occurrences.

Now, with Florie a wreck and Garon looking a touch triumphant, Cyril reached discreetly into one of his pockets and took out a small jar. Behind him was the fireplace, and deftly, he emptied the jar's contents into the fire. The flames suddenly flared brilliant green, and slowly, everyone's attention turned to the firelight. "It's a sign," Cyril said, voice certain. "Look, the gods speak even now, the fire burns Gardener green."

Garon stared, and Cyril could see he had taken the bait. They could change the situation now. Garon surged up, and said that he saw now, that he would use the miraculous fire to purge Blackbane of its curse. He thrust a torch into the flames and went down the hall to Vallya's room, and through it, to her garden. He set the drying plants ablaze, and then began taking her things and fueling them into the fire. Cyril helped, and as he did so, he dosed the fire with more of his powder so it would keep its color. The others helped fling things in, and they muttered conversation as they passed one another. Could Garon be trusted to change? This was a step, but he could lose his nerve and turn them all in before they could fight back. Florie managed to compose herself a little, but Cyril didn't trust her for level-headed decisions, not in this house, with her family. He agreed very quietly with Toby. Something should be done.

Jonys came to watch in the doorway, to ask about what was going on. Florie explained, haltingly, but then turned to watch as the last of her mother's things were flung into the fire. Garon went and stood in front of it, his features tinted strangely in the green light. This was the chance to make it all fit, Cyril knew. He would have to trust Tobias and Zel to do what was needed to help. Suddenly, he looked past Florie, as if in alarm. "Jonys!" Nothing was wrong, of course, but Zel, quick on the uptake, rushed to him, tripping him up a bit so he stumbled. Florie turned, eyes wide, to her brother, and as Zel distracted her and they fussed over Jonys, Cyril saw Tobias step close behind Garon before he could wonder what was happening and put a hand over his mout and the other around his shoulders. He wrenched Garon's head around and Cyril was close enough to hear a snap.

Then Toby pushed Felsward into the fire and stepped back, reaching out false astonishment. "Lord Felsward!" They told Florie and Jonys that he had stepped into the fire as if suddenly compelled. It was a neat story, and if Florie could believe it, one that would leave her guiltless. Now their goal was accomplished. Jonys, though technically lord, would be a puppet, malleable in their hands. Felsward lands were theirs.

Ch. 1 - Foundation

Tobias
§

Toby awoke much too early with Florie shaking him. He tried to pull the covers further over his head, to sleep more. But Florie called his name again and reluctantly, he blinked his eyes open and asked what the matter was. She said that petitioners had been arriving since the first night, and now there was a crowd of commoners who wanted to speak with their new lord. "You should talk to them, Florie," Toby said, a little panicked. "You're better at it."

"I can't," Florie insisted as she hurried to dress. "You are their lord. You have to talk to them."

Unhappily, Toby got dressed too. He didn't want this, didn't know how to be a lord. Knighthood, he knew, and fighting, and hunting. Not speeches and politics. He didn't know what was expected from him. Florie sent for Cyril and Zel, and they all went to the top of the tower, coaching Toby in what to say as they went. He just had to introduce himself, to reassure his people that the times of uncertainty were over, that the raiders were gone. At the top of the tower, with so many people staring at him, he nearly forgot everything he should say. But he managed a speech with all of those points in it, and he got through it. The people cheered, but it was clear he had not yet won them. They'd had too many years of poor rule to be swayed immediately. He said he would hold audiences, and hoped to just get the day over with.

He and the others settled in in the main hall of the tower, listening to various complaints. Many were easily dealt with, but a few stood out as larger problems. One was a long-standing land feud, and the way the three men involved talked of it, and the way others were paying attention to them, it was clear that if Toby could solve this, he would be better than the others. The next important matter was the Miller's daughter, who was just old enough to be into womanhood, and who came with two smaller children, her siblings. She explained that the raiders had killed her parents, and burned part of the mill, and although the mill was being rebuilt, the millstone had cracked in the heat of the fire. Toby didn't need her explanation to know that it was vital to the whole area that a new stone be found. One of the last petitioners was a big, bearded man who looked used to hard work, and he introduced himself as a farmer, and raised the issue that in the drought, animals had been killed and eaten, and he begged of his lord two new breeding animals. He could not give much, he said, but he had one thing. At his word, a boy shuffled forward. The man introduced him as his second son Mark, and said that for the animals, he would pledge the boy into Toby's service. Toby waited for Florie to nod almost imperceptibly, and agreed. The boy was young, not much older than Corwin, but it was clear from his now-lanky body that he would grow to be as towering as his father. A short while later, they were thankfully done with the petitioners, and now had to work out a course of action.

Cyril
§

Maester Cyril had taken notes as Florie asked, and heard all the petitioning. He saw the others acting for the first time as fully autonomous figures of authority, and saw Toby's discomfort. And he saw something else, something that didn't quite sit well with him. They were acting as lord and lady, and he was acting as an employee. There was no hint of the closeness they had all developed. It was like they had now put up walls that had not been there before, and worse, it seemed that if Florie was planning anything, she wasn't sharing it. She said nothing to him as they talked about finding a reliable way to split the disputed land, and Cyril went alone to the town smith to comission a chain that they could use to measure by. It was all so mundane, like the lofty goals of before had been forgotten. But he did his duty and kept silent. He watched as Tobias and Florie sent for a millstone from the town with the Felsward iron mines, then sent men to purchase a great number of breeding livestock. Tobias and Florie knew they would have to shore up their defenses, so they offered animals in return for sons being turned over to serve as soldiers.

A week went by, and it was filled with the simple minutiae of running Tynker and its lands. Then the measuring chain was ready, and they all travelled to the disputed farms. Cyril did his best to put aside his irritation at ordinary surveying, and to be patient with them. Toby and Florie were young, and clearly a little overwhelmed. Maybe now that they were on the road again, their greater goal would come back into focus. The land around Tynker got more beautiful the further into it they got. It was grassy and full of little streams and brooks, and would recover well into fine, fertile land. He could see the temptation here, that this place was a comfortable holding, if not prosperous now, then easy enough to make it so. He wondered if the others, frightened by ambition, would want to stop here.

Then they arrived at the farms, and Cyril's business was the tedious task of parceling out the land and hearing the suspicions of the farmers. Even though all the men agreed to the conditions set by their lord and lady, and agreed to abide by the new parceling, it was clear that each was seeking an advantage for himself. One of them invited the party to stay the night, and not knowing enough to be politic about it, Tobias agreed. That had the others muttering about favoritism, and one of them tried to get Cyril to favor him. Cyril met his attempts impassively, though. None of these men could offer him anything of import. He finished his task, a little disgusted at having to deal with such small matters. Maybe now, they could get something real done.

Drezielle
§

Zel left the others to their politics, for the most part. She had helped Florie and Tobias purchase all the livestock they were repopulating the land with, in return for land promised to her. A good deal of it had been left empty due to attacks by the raiders, and after winter, it would once again be fine, fertile soil. It was a good trade, and a good fallback if, in the end, she was left with nothing else. She would, she knew, just keep going along, working things to her best advantage, as she'd always tried to do. She enjoyed the hospitality of the farmers they stayed with, and heartily approved of Toby's plan in the morning to breakfast with each of the three families. Toby, who was still enough of a boy to have an appetite for it, grinned his way through three breakfasts, and ended with all three families feeling better about the entire arrangement. Zel enjoyed this kind of diplomacy-- one that didn't involve complicated plans, and did involve lots of food.

They camped on their way back to Tynker, and that night, Corwin came to her tent. He looked anxious, and asked if she could sleep. Zel made sure all of her boys' clothing was well in place, and let him in, refraining from snapping that she had already been mostly asleep. Corwin was clearly anxious, and as he talked to her, it became clear that he was anxious that with Toby's new responsibilities, he would lose his place with his knight. Zel tried to reassure him, saying that there was no way Toby would forget about him, and that she was sure Corwin would stay by his side. The boy wasn't certain, still, but it was enough to get him to sleep.

The next day, back at Tynker, even with things there going well, there was tension. Toby was having to decide how many of Lord Felsward's forces to send back, and how many he could safely keep for longer, while they tried to gather their own forces. Florie was engrossed in overseeing her sept being built, and Cyril seemed unhappy. Wanting something to go a little better, Zel went and talked to Toby, bringing up Corwin's anxieties. They decided to take Corwin and the new boy, Mark, and train in the courtyard. It would also serve the purpose of giving Zel more familiarity with a sword without so much danger of exposing her gender. Toby seemed more comfortable this way, happier in the elements he was familiar with. But after a time, Cyril came to speak with Toby, and Zel saw his expression darken again as they talked.

Florie
§

Florie was praying at the site where the sept was being built, trying to gain the calm and focus that her prayers had come to bring her. Hands clasped, she stared at the empty spaces where the Seven would reside, and she whispered familiar words, asking for guidance. She noticed she was not alone, and she turned, seeing Cyril standing a bit behind her. He apologized for interrupting her at prayer, but she shook her head, and moved close to speak to him. He started talking of house matters, but it was clear something else was on his mind. Then he said something about whatever plots she was not sharing, and Florie saw what had been bothering him. She drew a breath, and said that there was nothing she had not shared with him and that she knew the danger this new home held, the danger of becoming complacent, of letting their goals slip out of reach. Cyril was a little relieved, she could tell, but he still held himself stiffly, still talked with a reservedness he normally kept for others. Florie tried not to be stung by it. Both of them had ambition that stretched well beyond their experience, and both of them knew just how much was at stake. Florie promised she would write to Florent, and would think about what to do. Then she asked him, haltingly, if he would speak with Toby, because he'd been bothered by something, and wouldn't tell her what. Cyril agreed to talk to him, but offered no comfort. Florie supposed that neither of them could afford it right now.

She slept fitfully that night, and felt the cold stealing in through the windows.

She was walking with her husband, through their new, lush lands. Fall was taking over, but it was not unpleasant, and there was still growth around them. In fact, up the side of a cliff face, there was a heartbreakingly beautiful rosebush, with the roses in full bloom. Florie pointed them out to Toby. She had to have one. Without a second thought, Toby climbed a way up the cliff to try and reach the roses. The cliff face was too sheer, though, and he couldn't make it up. Undaunted, he ran off and returned with armfuls of lumber and stones, and piled them against the cliff. They added little height, though, so he brought Corwin, who stood on his shoulders and reached in vain for the flowers. They both left, and returned with Cyril and Zel, who started helping to build a scaffolding of sorts, and they came back with men to help build. Every so often, Toby would climb the scaffold to see if it was high enough. It got dark, and it got cold. Florie could see frost starting to form on the sides of the scaffolding. It was entirely frost-rimed by the time Toby tried climbing again, and Florie couldn't tell him it was too dangerous. He reached, straining, as his fingers brushed the leaves of the bush. But the frost made him slip, and the scaffold was high. He could not catch himself, and he fell all the way down. Florie ran forward, and the others vanished, and she could only see Tobias's broken form. She knelt by him, sobbing, as snow began to fall.

She awoke in tears, and freezing cold besides. She pressed herself against Tobias, and he woke, staring at her in concern. She told him about the dream, and said she didn't want her ambition to make her lose him. "We just didn't do it right in your dream," Toby said, stroking her hair. "And I'm alive. See? I'm fine. I'll be fine."

In the morning, Florie was still cold, and she wrapped a cloak around herself as they ate breakfast with the others. Once she had a warm drink in her, she shared the dream with them too, and listened as the others discussed what it might mean. It showed, Cyril said, that they needed a plan, a firm one, that took them all the way to the end. And they all agreed that if they could not succeed by winter, they would not succeed at all.

Ch. 5 - Bad Faith, cont.

Cyril
§

Cyril's morning routine consisted of feeding the ravens in the rookery and checking for new messages, and usually, it was an easy task. The birds seemed on edge, though, probably because of the arrival of three newcomers, each bearing a message. One of the ravens was of poor temperament, and scratched him across the face as he retrieved the message. In a somewhat poorer temper, he unrolled the scrolls and read them. The first was a message from the Citadel. It was a routine message, checking to know if he had detected any signs of winter in his lands. The second was a notice from the High Septon. It addressed the dangerous new heresy being spread, and that for a period of three moons, any heretic could visit a sept, renounce the heresy, and be cleansed. After that, all heretics were to be put to death. Moreover, it was decreed that any remaining godswoods be felled and burned. The third scroll was a message bearing Targaryen colors, and it said that it had come to light that Lord Darklyn was a heretic, which meant that he was absolutely a traitor. Cyril tucked those away for delivery and as it was early yet, he penned his response to the Citadel first. No, he told them. There had been no signs of winter's approach.

When Cyril made his way to deliver the messages to Lord Felsward, Tobias and Florie were already present, and a dirty man who looked to be one of the smallfolk. The man was clearly petitioning, but it was not to Felsward he spoke. It was to Tobias. Cyril listened as he introduced himself as Lannon Rivers, from near Tynker Tower. He said there had been a band of Dothraki raiders going through the countryside. They killed, pillaged, and burned buildings and crops to the ground. Thousands, he said, and would Lord Ore come and put them down? Toby looked a little taken aback by it all, but he said he would, and Lannon took his leave. Garon turned to Toby and his daughter, and they talked about leaving for Tynker. Since they had not had time to amass forces of their own, Garon said he would send a hundred men and fifty archers with them to deal with whatever threat this was. That it was truly a group of Dothraki was inconcievable, but clearly, it was a frightening force. Cyril presented his messages then, and it did not escape his notice that as he relayed the septon's message, Toby looked a touch uneasy, and raised his fingers to a little leather string around his neck. Cyril had kept the heretical charm himself, as an academic matter, but it was tucked away in his things. He wondered how long Toby would secretly wear his.

After a little more discussion, it was decided that Cyril would accompany the two to their new home as well, since Jonys's medications were well in order, and Cyril had proved a valuable help to them before. He was relieved, because it put him close to his partners in crime, as it were. He got his things together and soon, the party was off. Zel traveled with them, since she was more theirs than Garon's, and one again, it was the four of them wandering off to deal with an unknown problem.

Drezielle
§

The group stopped at the same inn where they had first learned of trouble at Tynker, and once again, the feel of the place was tense and unhappy. The people they spoke to supported the story they had heard, that hundreds of Dothraki were attacking anything in their path. They did, however, get some new information--the last farmstead known to be attacked. So they left the men to camp and Zel rode with the others to investigate the Colton's farmstead. Their house and fields were nothing more than ash. This was not a Dothraki trait, and Zel was glad of that. Whoever these men were, they weren't to be feared the way real Dothraki would be. And here, there were signs of which direction the riders had gone, hoofprints and other indication of the passage of many horses. Zel offered to use her skills to scout, and meet the others back where they were camped.

Zel bid farewell to the others and rode Smoky along the path the riders had taken. She studied the tracks, counting. There might be as many as a hundred of them, and they were all headed southwest, which, overland, was the direction of the gorge where Tynker Tower sat. It was not a promising sign. And as the tracks continued in the direction of the tower, Zel started moving more cautiously. She didn't want to accidentally catch up with this group, whomever they might be, and find herself dead. It was a good thing that she tied Smoky and started scanning the trees, because sure enough, there were lookouts. She was stealthier, though, and was able to spot them before they could spot her. She moved along slowly, and found the lookouts posted at steady intervals, their placement suggesting what they had feared. The bulk of the group must be at the tower. Unable to get any closer with ease, Zel returned to her horse and rode back to meet the others.

They debated that evening about what to do, and whether their forces were enough to retake the tower. None of them believed that a horde of Dothraki had really come to settle here, but it was clear these men were a formidable force. The tower was defensible, but it also made retreats difficult. They decided that if they attacked quickly and relentlessly, they could make it into the tower, and prevent their enemies from using their numerous horses to their advantage. With this in mind, they rode towards the tower.

Tobias
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Toby sent Zel ahead of them to see if they could spot lookouts. They wouldn't be able to keep the passage of their small army secret for very long, but any extra time would be advantageous for them. When Zel found a lookout, she took Cyril along since he was the better marskman, and Cyril felled the first easily. They found another, a little further along, and Toby's first indication that something had gone wrong this time was Cyril's scream of pain. Toby spurred his horse over the hill he'd sent them off to, and found Zel dragging Cyril back out of range. He had an arrow sticking through his shoulder, the tip coming all the way out the other side. He was bleeding and pale, and now they had been spotted, so there was precious little time to move. Zel helped Cyril back onto his horse, and Toby couldn't stay to worry. He had to lead them to the tower.

Tobias was far more used to single combat than to leading an army, but he was still confident in doing so, and their plan was as solid as they could make it. With Cyril injured, Zel would hang back to watch over him and Florie, and Toby would be in the middle of it. He hadn't even wanted Tynker Tower, but like it or not it was his now, and all the dubious honors that came with it. Like it or not, he had to protect it now. He had men coming up through the valley, with archers at the sides. He wanted to move in on the tower quickly, so that the bandits wouldn't have time to get on their horses to ride against Toby's unmounted forces. The company moved in and the fight was on. The men certainly were not Dothraki, not even close. They were ordinary thugs, and they fell quickly.

At the top of the tower next to a tattered banner made of multicolored strips of cloth, and a man rose up next to the banner and called for a halt, and that they surrendered. With the battle raging strong around him, Toby almost pressed on as if he had not heard, and called his men back. "Come down from there!" he yelled to his opponent. Several minutes later, the leader of the bandits emerged, and he, unlike the others, looked as if he might be Dothraki, though the two men who stepped forward with him certaily were not. He introduced himself as Maves Dothrak, and he eyed Toby for a few moments before speaking.

"So you would be Lord Tynker," he said.

"Ore," Toby responded.

Maves puzzled a moment, anger and confusion warring in his features. "Or what?"

"Lord Ore," Toby corrected. "But this is my tower."

Tobias considered what to do. This would be an awful lot of men to put to death, but he didn't want them anywhere nearby. He pulled back a bit as Florie and the others rode forward, and they spoke in low voices about the merit of sending these men away and unleashing them on someone else. They decided that it would be best to send them north, out of these lands, and to where they might be a further distraction, drawing eyes away from the south. He told Maves that he and his two lieutenants could ride out, and that the rest of their men would be on foot. They would travel north, and would not attack until they were out of Felsward lands.

Florie
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Florie, after the hastily hissed discussion over what to do with these men, rode a little closer to watch Maves as Toby gave his order. Boldened by seeing a smaller force ahead of him than he initially had, Maves started to argue. She listened to a little bit, and to a few insults traded back and forth between Maves and Zel, and finally, she'd had enough. Who was this man to presume that his ugly banner actually meant something to them? Didn't he see that to leaving with his life and the life of his men was a mercy? She speared him with a look, and repeated her husband's instructions, her voice smooth and cold. He tried to say that it was like asking a wild animal, or even a trained one, not to hunt, but he was looking at her with a different expression now. She smiled coldly and said that any animal could be brought to heel. She repeated the instruction, and said that he would travel until he was someone else's sorrow. Florie heard the quiet that her voice had brought, and saw something like fear in Maves's eyes.

The rest of it was a matter of organization, and seeing that the raiders didn't try anything as they left along the canyon. Then Florie shook herself, and began work on the more mundane matters of seeing the extent of the repairs needed in the tower, getting the men working towards fixing the place up to be livable. They took Cyril in and Toby tended to his wound, and the next week was busy with repairs and recovery. By that time, Florie was was anxious. There was no sept at Tynker, and she was feeling its loss keenly. She knew the others didn't understand her need, didn't quite see things as she did. But she knew she needed that space, so she had the men start work on creating a small sept for her in the tower. It would have to be enough.

Ch. 5 - Bad Faith

Drezielle
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Zel watched the wedding guests leave, and soon enough on the day after the wedding, Blackbane was mostly empty. That evening, only the Florents and Osgrey Meriweather remained. Zel kept to herself, knowing that if she was needed, she should be ready. In the morning, she awoke to Florie at her door. She groggily let her friend in and listened as Florie explained that Osgrey had been to her room that morning to press his suit, and she had barely put him off, and had sent him along ahead of her to speak to her father. Florie knew that it might be dangerous for her to follow, so she wanted Zel to go listen at the door. Zel threw on her wig and skirts so that she could go and appear to be cleaning near Lord Garon's door, and listened in as he revealed the truth to Osgrey. Osgrey grew angry, saying Garon had broken his word, and Garon responded that when he had, his daughter was no longer his to give. Zel listened as Garon defended Toby and Florie, and tried to find a way to keep friendly with Longtable, but Osgrey would have none of it, and Zel had to scurry out of the way as he stormed out. Garon stepped out, and sent her to find Flowers. She readily agreed, and changed hurriedly, and was sent again to gather the others.

Garon brought them into the room and shut the door, telling Florie and Toby that he had made their marriage known to Osgrey, and he had ridden off in anger. He paused, his features grim. Osgrey, he continued, must not make it back to Longtable. Cyril and Toby showed surprise, and so did Florie, but less so. Zel had thought, as she was sure the others had, that the scheming in Florie's nature had mostly come from her mother. Clearly, her father was not to be underestimated either, and it was chilling to listen to Garon describe how he would be sending them to kill Osgrey, and that it must be done outside of their land, and be made to look like a bandit attack. He told Florie that she would be going as well, because she needed to see what she had wrought.

Zel hurried to help with the preparations. They would have to ride carefully, to catch up with Osgrey but without his knowledge that they were on the road as well. They planned some as they prepared, and decided that once they were a day or so away, Zel would begin to ride ahead overland to see how far they were from Osgrey. Zel was happy to be riding again, and she tried not to think too hard about their errand.

Cyril
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Cyril rode close to Toby and Florie as they left Blackbane. He listened as Toby recounted how Lord Florent had spoken with him before he left, and how they had agreed to use Tynker Tower as a safer place to send and recieve messages. They had also talked about needing to make a decisive but still secret strike against Highgarden. They all agreed to this, of course, but none of them were sure yet how to go about it. It was not far enough into the season for the caterpillars to have caused much damage, and their resources were small. Still that problem would have to wait. The more immediate issue was what to do to kill Florent. They rode and as evening drew on, they sent Zel ahead. She reported that Florent had left the road to spend the night at a small holding, and they could ride past and be ahead of Florent in the morning.

The next day, they worked to set an ambush. Florie was exhausted, no doubt in part due to it being the first night since the wedding guests arrived that she and Toby had not been forced to separate. Cyril had politely ignored them, but it was no mystery what the two had spent too much of their night on. They rode a little ways, but not yet out of Felsward lands. After some discussion, they decided that they could safely dispatch their target here, and then take him up to the river that bordered their lands and dump him in. The plan they came up with would be enough to stop a few people, let alone one man. There was a curve in the road that bordered a hill, and Toby would armor up and wait just around the curve. Cyril would be up the hill a bit, in the trees, waiting with his arrows. Florie would be safe beside him, and his job would be to shoot the horse and make it stumble. Zel would be in the brush on the other side of the road, throwing daggers ready, and she would be there to aid as needed and prevent retreat. They sent Corwin a little way up the path in the other direction, to keep watch for other travelers.

They waited. Florie was still and silent next to Cyril, and he could only guess at what she felt about this. And then there was no more time to wonder, as the sound of hoofbeats announced Osgrey's approach. Cyril watched, sighting carefully, waiting until the horse had passed the spot they had designated, and then he let loose an arrow. It hit the horse in the flank, and the animal began to rear in panic and pain. He quickly got another arrow and let it fly as Zel came from the bushes and threw one of her knives at the animal. The horse fell, and Osgrey tumbled to the ground.

Tobias
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Tobias waited out of sight, listening as his companions took Osgrey from his horse. Then he rode out. Osgrey had only a moment for recognition to set in, and no time at all to react, to even draw his sword. Toby swung at him as he rode by, and Osgrey's head fell from his shoulders and rolled on the ground.

They all came down to the path to help clear the scene. They carried the body to a campsite they'd selected nearby, where they hung it up for the blood to drain like an animal they had hunted. Grisly as it was, it was necessary if they were to carry the body to the river without being in danger of discovery. It was a long, tense night, and in the morning, they rode the rest of the way to the river, dumped the body in, as well as his sword, shield and armor. The body would soon be unrecognizable, and the metals would quickly rust at the bottom of the river. Westeros could be a dangerous place, everyone knew. Nobody would be able to suspect them for Osgrey's disappearance. The journey back to Blackbane was relatively quiet, with each of them wrapped in their own thoughts.

Once back, they all went directly to Garon to report. He confirmed with them that Osgrey had been seen travelling home, and that the killing had gone swiftly and efficiently. Toby reported the facts quietly and gravely, and as he did, he saw Garon watching Florie. Her features were set and, Toby had to admit to himself, a little cold. He knew they should not be surprised. This was not the first death she had seen, and her resolve to see her actions through had never wavered. Still, it was disturbing to see, and clearly even more disturbing to Garon, who told her roughly that Osgrey had been a good man, and that she should pray to the Maiden for forgiveness. She dipped her head in acquiesence, and left quietly, with her father staring unhappily after her. Then Garon turned his attention back to the group. He spoke with Toby about the need to act while the eyes of the kingdom were turned on Duskendale, and how unready they really were. Toby agreed, and they concluded that if at all possible, they must find a way to put their influence on the Duskendale situation again, to extend it as long as possible. With this to think about, they concluded the meeting. Garon sent Cyril off to tend to Jonys, and then he looked at Zel for a while, and charged her to think about what she was to the house, as she would need a title. She departed in another direction, and after they had all departed, Tobias went to join his wife in the sept.

Florie
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Florie knew she should feel an appropriate grief about Osgrey. She knew that she should feel horror that they had killed a man in order to keep themselves from condemnation and suspicion. Somewhere in herself, these feelings did flicker through, but they were locked away. Her father had ordered her to pray to the Maiden for forgiveness, and she did. She prayed too that the Seven would continue to guide her footsteps, as they had so far. This newfound coldness in her must have its place. And, she knew, there were personal prices to be paid for her ambition and her will. Certain softer feelings could not stay in the same place as her resolve.

Later, once again in her own bed with Tobias beside her, Florie should have slept soundly. But even under the covers, even next to her husband's warmth, she was freezing cold. With that cold came uneasiness, and she knew that if she kept tossing and turning, Toby would wake, so she let him sleep and she got out of bed, shivering, and went to walk the halls. For some reason, she hadn't thought to put on slippers for some reason, and the stones were frigid under her bare feet. She passed by an open door, and realized an even colder draft was coming from within. She realized it was her mother's room. She stepped in, and realized that the door to the garden was open, that autumn chill was seeping into the hall this way. Florie hurried forward to close the door, and saw that the moonlight made the overgrown roses look black and frosted over. The whole garden looked eerie and cold. Florie's hand touched the door, but she stopped, staring, as she realized that she was not alone. There was a figure sitting on her mother's garden bench, and no soo$945 ner had she registered this that she realized from size and build that it was Colin Florent. Dark blood still oozed from his neck wound. As Florie watched in horror, he turned his ruined face to her.

She awoke with a muffled sob, disoriented as she realized that her walk through the hall and all that followed had been a dream. Just a dream. But she was still freezing, her body as cold as if she had been out of bed. Unable to bear the feeling alone, she shook Toby awake, curled into him and mumbling that she'd had a bad dream. He comforted her, and built up the fire to warm the room. He asked what the dream had been, and she couldn't tell him. In the firelight, safe beside him, her alarm seemed silly. She knew it would sound so. So she said it was about the coming winter, and left it, and Tobias held her close, and sang an old ballad to her, and she started to feel warm again. She made him promise that they would leave soon to conduct their affairs from Tynker Tower. She wanted to be free of Blackbane and its cursed and bloodied stones. At last, with these assurances, Florie slept again.