Tarot Campaign

Interlude        Funeral & Favor or the Death of Lady Chivar

Westmore Palace. Private Conversations.
Having received the summoning note -- 'I want to see you as soon as possible, please. C.' -- Paris made her way up the palace to the Princess' suite, straightening her appearance as she went. Paris managed her graceful bow upon admittance to Carline's presence. Her Highness was alone and as somber as the rest of the castle had been. "Thank you for coming so speedily," she told the warrior woman. She didn't waste any time getting to her point. "Someone extremely loyal to the prince was the first to find Lady Chivar's body. This was on it." She took a small scroll from a chest and handed it to Paris. The warrior read it: 'Never try to double cross us. This is what happens to those who try.' It was marked with the raven sigil, better drawn than on the crude note the party had found after the fire in Jouet square.

Paris felt as though her blood ran both hot and cold. The Princess had obviously come to the same conclusion that Rhori had; why else show Paris this scroll. But -- did it mean that Paris was now free of the Raven threat? Had Lady Chivar rescinded her employment of the Ravens -- and been murdered for it? Or did they think that the raid meant that their employer had betrayed them? Was Paris thus doubly responsible for her death? Not that Paris could or would have given up to those in league with Evil, she told herself. Do not cherish guilt to such an extent. But .. had there been something she could have said to have garnered more protection for Lady Chivar and her family -- without giving away what she knew the lady had done? Paris felt torn apart. The lady had hated her -- but no hate was worth such a vengeance. She had worried about Lorraine with such a mother-in-law, and for Jules, carrying the knowledge of his mother's indiscretion, but never, never in her wildest wishes had she dreamed the lady dead!

Paris looked up and the Princess added, "All my brother wants to know is, do we need to seek further within the palace?" Paris choked out, "No. No, I don't think so." Carline nodded, "He also thinks this should be kept from the Chivars." Paris managed, "I agree," feeling fully that Sir Marion and his children certainly did not deserve what had come to them and definitely not the uglier knowledge this scroll represented. The Princess continued, "He says that he knows you can keep the secret." Paris nodded mutely.

It took a few more moments before Paris was able to form words again. "Is - is it at all known to what this," she gestured slightly with the scroll and then handed it back to be put away, "refers? What -- the lady did -- that could be viewed as -- marking her an enemy specifically to those of that mark?"

Carline carefully put the note back into the box. "I understand that there were... elements of the way the Lady Chivar and her companions were killed that indicated the one that got away from Silverlocke in the Raven raid." She looked sharply but not unkindly at Paris. "But please, Paris. I saw your face when you read the note. You know exactly what transaction the Lady Chivar had with the Ravens; that they assumed she had been used to trap them was her downfall." She smiled. "My brother thought you might try to protect the Lady Chivar, so he asked me to get the answer he needed. Please, sit down and tell me of your travels, it will be good to hear of any success."

There was a note of apology in Paris' quiet voice. "Yes, I knew. But I had hoped that, perhaps, the lady had had a change of heart, that her death wasn't a hideous mistake -- albeit no one deserves such a death! I know that -- if I had let them take me -- she would now be alive. But, if I had -- my Prince and the Duke might not even yet know that Darkness works in this city. I do not believe she knew of the Darkness. It is a dark and bitter cloud with but a slim silver lining."

Carline's eyebrows both raised. "Had they taken you, the group of them would be much stronger now. And my brother's troubles multiplied. It is a danger of dealing with dark forces. You have done well. Please," and she gestured at the small cushioned seat.

Paris seated herself. "Thank you, your Highness. Our latest venture was short and successful, with two small incidents and the main event. Shortly after we started, we encountered another seemingly hanged man, a hunter caught in a trap. We rescued him and received another cryptic message: 'The k/night alone can keep the dread from the queen of swords in the dark of the full moon'. Although it sounded apt because of the feeling of dread that pervades the Spider Forest, I do not think that this message had aught to do with the rest of our adventure."

"So," Carline mused. "There is another dread, then? And who would the Queen of Swords be? I do not think that Duke Evan or my brother have any suspects for those cards."

Paris explained. "We considered whether or no the spider queen with her sword-legged-warriors would be the Queen of Swords. But that seemed nigh impossible; all the Minor Arcane heretofore have been human. It did not seem possible that that monster was once a human. We thought also that, perhaps, we would find a human Knight and/or Queen of Swords captive by the spiders. But we found no indication of any captives in the areas we explored. So it seems logical that we have yet to meet that card, yet to find out whether a warrior knight or the time of night is necessary to protect her from whatever the dread is. We have yet to find out if, indeed, that is how this clue should be interpreted." Paris shook her head. "Clearly we are not intended to guess the meaning easily." She paused, then added reflectively, "From what we have seen, it seems the Major Arcana can identify a Minor Arcana, at least if he or she is present. A couple of my comrades in adventure can do so as well, if they have some experience with the person they think may be a Minor. A simple meeting or knowledge of someone does not seem to be sufficient. It is possible that there are many in this town, even some in this castle, but I have not the power to discern them even were they my dearest friends."

Paris continued. "Later we encountered orcs with an ogre and a goblin mage, and we chose to do combat. Although the mage got away, none of my friends fell and those other creatures will cause no more trouble. Also Silverlocks's embassy to the elves of Clan Kellie seems to have won friends; they treated us well and were there to cover our retreat at the end of the quest. The quest itself took us into the Spider Forest. We learned more of their traps and acquired samples of various of their poisons en route. At last, under a full moon we literally wormed our way into their queen's castle: an amazing structure built on human plan and scale but entirely of web, many feet thick. Its guards, great spiders with scythe-like legs, patrolled both top and sides -- as one would expect of such creatures -- while the queen herself seemed to be reweaving her Spell of Dread from atop her top-most tower. This alone allowed us the strength of will to face her castle undetected, we think. Otherwise the light of Widow Mia's spell of protection would have likely given us away early."

"Once inside, the Lady Alexis observed that the blind spiders that seemed to staff the interior of the castle were able to teleport and thus several of us were able to 'tag along' on such spells and enter the central tower. There my brother Calais was able to secure a recently-laid egg from the great stack in the tower cellar-pit without disturbing the spiders that lined its walls. We were not able to make our retreat, however, as easily as we had entered. Spotted, we ran for our lives, Rhori Miller taking upon his shoulders the weakest members of our Party when they faltered. Then, just as the spider hordes were catching up to us, the elves were there to drive them back with their amazing bow-fire. I was thankful. Lucas, Rhori and I had discovered that the sword-legged spiders can fight many opponents at once -- and we'd had to take off our armor in order to enter the castle. Without the elves, the story might have ended very differently."

Paris smiled. "My brother should be with Irolo now, devising a way to keep the egg safe for the rest of our journeying, while Anton and Alexis do further research on just where it is we are next to go."

"Anton will make a better tale of all this someday, I suspect. I can only speak for what I saw and felt." She grinned. "Running from foes is not supposed to be part of tales of heroic derring-do; but I find somehow these days that my friends' well-being seems to outweigh the romance I once hoped to emulate in those old tales." She sobered and looked at the princess. "Speaking of well-being -- if it is not too much to ask -- how does my lord, Prince William? I am aware that all the news I have brought him of late has been -- troublesome - and - and that worries me." Paris voice cracks and breaks a little as she faded to the end.

Throughout the tale, Carline had watched Paris with intense focus, horrified at the description of the dark castle, smiling when Paris smiled. She laughed lightly in response to Paris' grin. "If you knew how to read some of the old tales, you would see that some of the greatest sagas are when the hero was running from danger. Somehow the bards manage to turn such things around." She sobered too. "William is busy organizing the armies. With my father and elder brother cut off in Pelier, and the need to use the tenuous link to the east through Dungeon, of all places; well, it keeps him frustrated and busy. There is much to be planned, and precious little information to plan it on." Her smile became gentle. "He has asked me to keep him informed about your progress. You have brought him solid news, definite findings, which are as valuable as gold. He is right to rely on you."

Paris felt a surge of relief. "Thank you for telling me about him. I -- There is nothing I want more than to keep the trust he puts in me."

Later Paris made her way to the duGryphon quarters and asked for Lorraine. It was no surprise to find her friend less bubbly than heretofore. They embraced and Paris whispered, "I am so sorry. At times like these one wishes every unkind thought retracted and regretted. How does Jules? And your dear parents? I am sure they are a comfort to poor Sir Marion."

[Fill in with the socially acceptable pleasantries to get over rough spots.]

Later, "I have been told that I will be allowed to pay my respects at the service tomorrow. This will -- again -- be something new for me." Lorraine perked up a bit, commenting, "Yes, and you can't possibly wear any of the things we've gotten for you so far. Come. Let's go look through the dresses Alexis has been having sent over for you. I think I saw something there...."

As the two friends putter over the details of mourning clothes, Paris asked, "What do people do with themselves in times like these, Lorraine? After the services and, well -- are there condolence visits as well? I was told that Sir Gryphon had canceled classes for three days. I have never had so much time -- with no work to do, no task to be tended. Surely it is not considered healthy to sit and contemplate the dead for all that time? Or is it? What will you and the other girls -- and the boys -- be doing with yourselves? What is considered proper?"

Lorraine sighed, trying to decide which of two dark dresses could be pressed into service with Paris' colors. "Mom and Dad are busy helping Sir Marion get his house in order. Lots to be done for the funeral. Most of the others are back with their families." She shook her head. "God, I understand it has to be a closed casket funeral." She seemed near tears, then fought it back. "No, it's not three days of mourning, it's just that they are too busy to see to the classes as well. I wonder if they will postpone the tournament." This brought a smile, weakly, to her face. "Nah, not even Mom can postpone the full moon. Anyway, back to your question. There will be a kind of a lunch at the Chivar's after the ceremony for their close friends. Most will just go their ways after the service, there isn't any kind of formal visit like when a duke or king dies. I'll have to go to the lunch, help serve and stuff, but I don't think you should." She finally selected one dress, and held it up to Paris. "You should probably try to find Ewen. I understand from Cordelia that Rodric says that Bietrix offered him a favor for the tournament, and he didn't accept it. Phooey. It's too dark for you, but it will have to do."

Paris nodded, unhappiness in her eyes. "Yes, I can't imagine that I'd be wanted at the luncheon. I do feel very much for Sir Marion and Jules -- and everyone. But it does not help for me to say so." She took the dress and held it up. "Do not worry, Lorraine. No one will care if I look well at the service. As long as I do no dishonour in appearance or behaviour, I should not be noticed. As is right and proper. Thank you for choosing for me." She gave Lorraine a one-armed hug. "And I will take your advice and look up Ewen. Would I be able to catch him and Rodric after the service? Or should I find him elsewhere and elsewhen?"

Lorraine raised one eyebrow, in that gesture so reminiscent of her mother. "You don't think Mom will notice how you look? And it was only Lady Chivar that didn't like you, I think Sir Marion rather likes you." She hugged back. "And if you don't 'bump into' Ewen after the service it will be because you are trying to avoid him. That's probably the best place to find him."

[If the dress is a poor colour, Paris will either look plainer than usual, or a little ill, or Lorraine will have to be especially clever with the makeup. :-)]

Paris paused a moment, then added quietly. "I do not know much about this offering of favours. Obviously one must not make a public production out of it, else refusals would be too humiliating -- and someone as noble as Ewen would not humiliate Lady Bietrix. But -- there will be no dancing with class canceled.... How then...." Paris turned to her friend with uncertainty.

[S: Paris may have a full Courtly Graces roll, but it certainly seems more in line with the story to let Lorraine give her Practical Instruction. :-) Possibly people can walk in the palace gardens after the funeral ... and that would provide an adequate setting. I _don't_ expect the girls are allowed to visit the boys' dorm. (I do sometimes wonder when Cordelia and Rodric get to exchange as many confidences as they do. :-)]
[GM: Well, they communicate a lot better than the other boys and girls. And there are opportunities at the dance, or a couple of other places. Rodric, being 'responsible' for Cordelia, would be allowed to see her more often, probably even in her room. There's also breakfast which is another thing Paris has never seen in the palace.]

Lorraine shook her head gently. "It's done like everything else at court. The favor isn't actually presented until it is known that it will be accepted. You let someone know that you're interested in presenting one to someone else, etc. Ewen has just, ah, avoided finding out that Bietrix would like to offer one. It would only be a problem if the silly child tried to force one on him at the ball. Ewen is no dummy."

"Oh, tell someone who will tell someone. Ah, Lorraine, sometimes these subtleties make my head dance," Paris smiled a very little smile. "Then... as you know that I have said that I think Ewen will be one of the best knights your father puts out, let's say that I would like to let my favour prove that I meant those words. If it's all right to accept a favour from 'the competition', as Rodric might say, I would -- offer mine -- to Ewen...?" Paris's voice became a tad uncertain as she realized the possible irony of her suggestion.

Lorraine smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. "Then, perhaps I could mention to Cordelia, in passing of course, that you wouldn't object if Ewen asked you to escort him to the ball?"

If Paris had dimples they'd be showing as she suppressed a giggle. The smile in her eyes matched her friend's. "Your mother would probably have conniptions if she heard us phrase it that way. But, yes. I would not object at all -- if you were to say something of the sort -- to Cordelia."

Lorraine's dimples showed strongly as she clapped her hands. "And I know just the dress for you! And no objecting," she finished in her mock serious manner, "it's a gift from your friend. 'Sometimes a girl needs to make an entrance in something other than a metal faced shield,' I think she said."

Paris looked puzzled for a moment and then her eyes widened and her mouth formed a silent 'oh!' When she recovered she managed to say softly, "I am very rich in my friends."

Paris left the chapel in company with Alexis and the duPontes. The palace walls muted both murmured conversations and the solemn processional music as people exited passed the carved doors and into the most ceremonial of the palace courtyards. As Lord and Lady duPonte greeted some of their acquaintances, Paris murmured to Alexis, "Could you please tell me about The Lament. That is what the Prince recited, isn't it? I -- have no experience with what it means and how it came to be important in Tara. Clearly it does have great meaning."

The rolling phrases --

Where are those who said they would answer my call?
Why do you sleep, when your country needs you?
Were your words so much stronger than your arms?
Why do you sleep, when I still need you?

Alexis answered, frowning slightly. "It's one of those things that is read at funerals of noble warriors. It was interesting that the Prince chose to read it; by doing that he was saying that she died in the service of her country, that she fell in battle. Tantamount to declaring war on the people that killed her. It's not unheard of for it to be read for a woman, but it is pretty unusual. That made it a great honor for the Chivars. Those who died," she swallowed, "defending our walls were also accorded that honor. And the Prince read it then, too." She paused, thinking, then went on. "I do not know when and how The Lament came into use. It seems to have always been the mark of valour and honourable sacrifice."

Paris nodded solemnly. "Indeed, the Lady's death tells us that this land is still in danger despite earlier efforts. The Lament was appropriate. I pray it provides some relief to her unfortunate family's grief; I know how poor ordinary words are at a time like this. Thank you for explaining it to me."

Paris watched the various clusters eddying out of the chapel, the dark clothing of the people creating a wintry effect against the white walls, like a bare forest in snow. Spying Rodric's shock of dark hair above one such group, she murmured to Alexis. "I see some of my classmates. Would you mind if I joined them for a bit? I would be happy to introduce you to those you do not yet know."

Alexis smiled and shook her head. "Not at all. Go ahead."

[S: It has not quite been clear to me whether or no Alexis actually is personally acquainted with Paris' classmates. One, it may simply be part of the job of a herald to know and identify everyone in the palace -- particularly everyone of rank. It was, traditionally, of course. Two, it is possible that every young noble in the Duke's palace undergoes training at the hands of Lord and Lady duGryphon. Something said early in Paris' training made me think that that was _not_ so, that the duGryphons chose their pupils based on some criteria unknown as yet to Paris. ]

[M: As a herald, Alexis knows who virtually everyone is, and has been introduced to a large number of people. She was in Lady duGryphon's class as well when she was slightly younger. But I don't know that she's been personally introduced to Paris' classmates. I'm pretty sure she knows who they are, and could identify them, but I doubt she personally knows them.]

[GM: I'm sure Alexis knows all the people in the duGryphon's class, although she has to think a bit to get their given names, especially for the kids from large families. That's why, in Alexis' write up, it was "the deLacey" boy, not "Ewen." :) Though Ewen's family isn't particularly large.
There are other occasions for interaction between Alexis and the class, you can decide how often they occur. At midday, one of the heralds lectures the students on heraldry and history; during lunch for the boys, afternoon for the girls. At the evening dinner/dance, there are steward and perhaps herald positions to be filled, but these are rotated through the staff because you'd all go crazy doing a formal event every night. :)
And, a minor correction: Alexis went to a couple of the dinner/dances, but wasn't really in the duGryphon's class. If Lady duGryphon is going to have an imbalance of boys and girls, she enlists suitable young ladies from the palace. It is a fine way to meet eligible young men. :) The course is rather expensive, and also tough to get into; certainly Alexis' dad's rank would have been enough (barely), but it would have been an outlandish cost.]

[M: Pat, is her younger brother old enough to be in the class?]

[GM: Hm, probably, but it is not required that he be in the class. Especially if he is going to follow Dad's footsteps, he doesn't have to be quite the warrior/ruler that the Gryphons turn out. Not everyone goes to Eton, as an analogy.
I should mention that not all the people that will be trying for knighthood at the Festival will be from the Gryphons' class. However, for years, all of their students have passed the tests, and it has been someone from their classes that has won the tournament.]

Paris gave Alexis a polite bow and moved away to join her friends. "Paris!" Rodric's long face broke into a smile, although tension still showed in his eyes and forehead. "You're back!" Cordelia, standing within his brotherly wing, obviously glad of the closeness at such a sad occasion, smiled as well. "For how long this time?" she added. Ewen merely looked his version of their questions.

"Just for a couple of days, I think." Paris looked her apology at Ewen, then smiled again at the others. "And for the first time without classes to take every moment. It is a very strange feeling. And for a most sad reason." Everyone exchanged subdued nods. Paris added, "What will you all be doing with yourselves?"

Rodric smiled wanly. "Doesn't seem like a good day to be hearing the latest tales of fighting orcs." He looked at his sister, then back to Paris. "I'm behind in my letter writing home. Although who knows when they will ever get delivered. Still, we should probably be off doing that, huh, sis?" If there had been a glance between Rodric and Ewen, Paris didn't catch it. The Givances made their pleasant good-byes, and Paris was left with the young deLacey.

"This castle came with a very nice garden," Ewen said, offering Paris an arm. "I was thinking of taking a walk there, if you would care to join me?"

"I would love to walk with you," smiled Paris, placing her hand on his arm.

It was a lovely garden, low bushes chosen so that some would be in flower throughout the year, and all within sight of the guards on the wall. The dark dress was too warm for comfort on the summer day, but Paris ignored it. "So, tell me of your travels, and what you have to do next," Ewen said as they started walking. He exaggerated looking around, and smiled at her. "And the fire breather isn't here, so don't leave out all the bits with swords."

Paris told the tale much as she had to Princess Carline, save that she detailed the battles with the ogre and the various types of spiders more in accord with the level of interest Ewen usually displayed; not as technically complete as Sir Gryphon required, but with an eye towards explaining the tactics that had proved effective.

It was quiet for a few moments after Paris finished, and Ewen's question caught her by surprise. "The ones that killed Lady Chivar were the same ones that tried to kill you, weren't they?"

Paris choked. "How did you -- how did you know that anyone had tried to kill me? I -- had not realized -- that any tales of the ambushes had gotten around." She paused. "Some of Lord Silverlocke's men knew of the fire and, of course, the raid. But -- ah, nothing I do seems a secret, I guess. I tried very hard not to let my friends know -- although I did worry that my presence might endanger you all. I -- considered canceling our picnic." She looked down at her hands, slowly unclenching them. "Forgive me, please." Paris tried to look up but could not quite meet his eyes. "Yes, there are indications that it was the same group that murdered poor Lady Chivar. But - but," at last she looked into his eyes, "how did you guess?"

He actually looked a little sheepish. "I, uh, 'overheard' Sir Gryphon questioning you, I guess it was the day after." His smile returned. "There was no way I would let you cancel the picnic. I did make sure that the family guards were alert. I was a little surprised not to see more guards with your carriage, though, I would have expected Sir Gryphon to send quite a contingent."

Paris gave a half-smile. "Judging by what my comrades from Jouet said, he did. Remember the falconing party in the nearby field? They think that was Sir Gryphon's doing. I could not say. At the time I was simply relieved that there seemed to be no further threat and that we could simply have a pleasant day. I thought that the addition of Lorraine's guards and carriage had given us that, and I am ever so grateful to her for her willingness to risk it. I did not realize that you had worried about the risk as well."

"As for guessing about Lady Chivar..." Ewen lost his smile. "Well, from the whispers it was pretty clear that she was murdered in some strange way. You wouldn't believe the stories that are going around, pretty gruesome. Anyway, what everyone says is that they, whoever 'they' are, were trying to kill some woman from the palace to strike fear into the hearts of the nobles. They tried to kill you because you were the easiest target, with the fewest guards around. When you left town," and he grinned wryly, "or when they figured out that you were escorted by an invisible lion, they picked the next available target. Lady Chivar was the unlucky one."

"Poor Lady Chivar," Paris said softly. After a moment she went on. "It may sound a bit strange, Ewen, naive, even. But I had hoped that she and I would someday have a chance to get to know each other, to overcome the -- poor experiences of our first meeting. I knew it could happen, just as I found -- once I got to know him -- that Jules is a good person underneath, too -- despite the," she smiled, "experiences of our early acquaintance. But now it will never happen. So, I too feel her loss personally, though people might not expect me to. Maybe mine was just a fantasy, but now I'll never know."

Ewen paused. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Help? Just by being you -- being my dear friend -- you do help! It was that, in part, that gave me courage not to give in. And so I lived what was probably the most delightful afternoon of my life, Ewen! It is I who should thank you for all your help."

"Paris," Ewen continued, and stopped to take a deep breath. "I... I hope you will make it back before the Festival." He stifled his nervousness, settling into a half smile, as his voice took on a tone of formality. "Master deLacey would like to request the honor of escorting Miss Paris to the Ball on this Harvest Eve," he said, his eyes intent on her.

Paris met his gaze openly but surprised herself by a sudden feeling of shyness. She blushed. "Miss Paris -- accepts the honour you do her, with great pleasure, my lord, and asks that you -- would bear her favour in the tournament on Harvest Day."

Paris stumbled a little over the words. "I realize that -- it is customary -- to give a favour on Harvest Eve. But -- there is some -- little chance -- that I might not make it back -- in time to take the tests. It's possible, albeit I am under orders to be back here in time. Nonetheless -- if I don't -- Ewen, you will make a great knight -- and I want you to have my token as proof that I mean that!" There was very little in Paris' belt pouch these days, so offering the dainty piece of cambric and embroidery was a matter of a moment.

[GM: Indulge me in a bit of alternatives. I'm not quite sure which way it should go.]

1. Her hand fumbled around her pouch for a few moments, even emptier than she had remembered. "Calais!" she whispered under her breath, as inside her Real Girl screamed.

He reached for it, but stopped his hand holding the kerchief and her hand. "It's beautiful," he said in a voice suddenly hoarse. "Everything I hoped for." He swallowed, eyes fixed on her. "But you must make it back in time. You must." He leaned forward, slowly, leaning his head to one side.

Paris felt her breath stop and the world go soft and misty around her as she lifted her face to his.

"Oops, pardon me." They both jumped back at the young acolyte stepped back onto the path. "Ah, er, just carry on, sorry lord, um...." The young man stood there, not quite sure what to do, and finally turned away. As he moved to a different part of the garden, he kept glancing back to the pair, who also noticed that several of the guards on the wall were also watching them.

Ewen smiled. "I'm still going to try to beat you in the tournament," he said, trying to lighten the mood as Real Girl screamed.

"I - I wouldn't want it -- any other way," Paris managed, steadying herself to follow his lead. "And I -- will be trying my best to - to win, as well."

They both turned at the sound of someone coming into their part of the garden.

It was Lord and Lady duGryphon. Both looked tired and more drawn than she recalled. "Lord deLacey, Miss Paris," Lady duGryphon said, her eyes a little sad. "We had hoped to find you, Miss Paris, but I believe we are a bit late." She looked at Paris with steel in her eyes, but a sadness around her face. "This was not an easy decision. But the things we do now will set precedent for a long time in the future. And we must make rules that protect our charges, future as well as present." She straightened herself, staring down the both of them. "It is inappropriate for you, Paris, to give a favor to someone you might face in the tournament. It implies that you hope he will win. I trust you both understand."

Ewen straightened, and bowed stiffly. "Then, Ma'am, I would hope that you would make clear to the others why I choose to enter the tournament with no favor?" Lady duGryphon nodded, once, quickly.

Paris, mindful of the stress her teachers have been under, added, "I am sorry to have put you to the trouble of worrying about precedent, my Lord and Lady. I do not wish to do anything inappropriate." Then, ruefully, "I would that a favour had another meaning: that of the bearer's promise to do honour to his lady -- to make her proud of him, in victory or defeat. Both are a measure of the truly noble knight -- and Honour on the field of contest seems to me to be of more value than either winning or losing."

Sir Gryphon rumbled, "That is always true for every good knight, Missie. It takes no favour to make it so."

"Which is why no favour is needed, Sir Gryphon, save as a reminder that the lady understands this as well as the knight," Paris said gently, "to my mind, at least."

Lady Gryphon nodded. "But it is not just you and Lord deLacey that we have to consider, Miss Paris. There will come some in the future who will attach other meanings to such bits of cloth. And there will be those watching at the tournament that would think ill of Lord deLacey if it became necessary for him to fight the one who gave him a favor." She paused thinking a moment. She glanced at her husband who simply nodded to her, with the communication that comes of long years of association. "There will be none who inquire as to what is worn beneath the armor."

Ewen smiled and bowed. "Then I shall wear this proudly next to my heart." He looked over to Paris. "I'll know it's there."

"Funeral & Favour" copyright 1999 P.Shea & S.Knowles. The contents of this site are copyright 2004 Sheryl A. Knowles unless otherwise specified. All rights reserved.