Forgotten Shadows

[Jerusha]

Thursday early afternoon
September 12, 1168
Saint Willibrord Church
Grecotha

Sir Jamyl Arilan sighed. As an Intelligencer for the King of Gwynedd, one needed to learn patience. If he had not learned this lesson, he would have paced down the length of the nave to check the street outside the church at least twenty times. Somehow, he had managed to limit himself to six.

Sir Jamyl.

Finally! Lord Iain! Please tell me you have news, particularly of Sir Airich.

I do, but it's not the best news. Airich lies gravely wounded. He was pierced through his side and pinned to the ground by a dagger. He lost a lot of blood. He has been tended to, but cannot possibly travel yet.  Whether he will survive at all is still uncertain.

Jamyl bit back an unknightly curse. Have you seen him? Talked to him?

I am about to. I think it would be wise if you would advise King Kelson. Let him know that Airich has not been remiss in responding to the King's summons. At the moment, it is impossible. And we have no Healer here.

Jamyl gave a mental nod.  Tell Airich the king will be informed. It will ease Airich's mind. And please keep me informed on his progress. 

Sir Iain broke the contact, and Sir Jamyl hung on to the word "progress." He would not accept the alternative.

[Nezz]

"Mistress," Collos said to Elspeth, "I understand you are needed outside. Two of your men are trying to kill each other, I understand."

"What?"

"The archer and the student. There have been harsh words between them, as well as a physical altercation, I am led to believe."

"Oh, those two..." Elspeth collected her medical bag while Collos fished a key out from his belt pouch. He handed it to the physicker.

"When you go out, take this key," Collos said. "It will unlock the house two doors to the north of this one. It's larger than this one. You and the gentlemen can get dry there and remain close by while the rest of us work on Airich. There is also a stable around the corner and down one block. Your horse can be stabled there for now."

"That's a relief, at least," Elspeth said, and allowed Collos to escort her out, leaving Trevor and Amy to convince Airich to cooperate.

"It's not just the information I need to keep secret," Airich said petulantly. "I don't want people invading my mind. Is that so much to ask?" He had to breathe several times before he could continue. "I hate knowing that Darius is in there, knowing that he could put me back to sleep without a by-your-leave at a moment's notice. This is why the Willimites hate us so much; it's terrifying knowing that someone is in your head, and almost as terrifying not knowing if they're in your head or not, but they could be."

"This is terrifying for us as well," Trevor told him. "Do you think we like seeing you this way? Seeing you lose your sanity would be far worse."

"I've got time," Airich insisted. "Get Wash. Then I"ll go along with your plan."

Trevor threw up his hands in frustration at Airich's stubbornness. Amy thought the priest wasn't considering Airich's fear of being so completely helpless, as she felt Airich's emotions rise in response to the pressure.

"Father?" Darius said, raising his eyebrows at Trevor in question. Amy realized he was asking Trevor if the priest wanted Airich to sleep. Trevor glanced at Airich, then back at Darius, and gave a slight nod.

Airich saw this exchange. Before Darius could trigger the controls, the knight's Shields slammed shut¹, despite the merasha still coursing through his system.

"I said No!" His Shields caught both Darius and Amy and shoved them out. "No more strangers in my head!"
¹Shields up: Normal Standard (-1D due to merasha) 2d6: 5, 2; Success

[Laurna]

((It is my honor to post this next scene in dedication to Earl Derry. Nezz has had an important hand in setting and writing Sir Airich's troubles.))

The power that slammed across their rapport was like a boulder falling upon her. Amy yelped and fell back against Trevor's knees. Desperate to not lose her physical touch with Airich, she reached for the knight's sleeve and then grabbed for his hand. But he pulled his hand away, the same as he was doing with his mind. She attempted Rapport without touch, but it was impossible. The loss of Darius' controls meant a resurgence of the pain from fresh wounds, and Airich cried out, panting desperately and pressing at his side.

"Airich, stop! You're going to start bleeding again!" Trevor grabbed at his hands

Amy gave up her space for Trevor, but she quickly realized Trevor was having no better luck getting through to his brother. She squeezed her shoulder past the priest to touch Airich's forehead.

Airich was beyond reason now. Amy remembered seeing him the night they'd repaired Robert's hand, wild-eyed and unaware of his surroundings. This was worse. Darius grabbed Airich's other arm, pulling it away from his wound; they could all see the fresh blood staining his tunic. They needed to get him under control quickly, but his Shields were as a fortress.

Two men entered the small room, and it was Jimmy who understood first and threw his effort into controlling the knight, but Airich's struggles became more aggressive the more they tried to calm him.

Airich suddenly gave a violent shudder, then went still.

"I've got him." It was Airich's voice. But it wasn't, as well. The timbre, the authoritative tone, the surety... this was someone else.

Trevor pulled away. His troubled eyes were almost as round as his brother's. "Father?" he whispered.

All eyes turned hard on Trevor, all understanding in that moment what was happening. "No, no! Airich, come back to me!" Amy wailed.

Jimmy and Trevor nodded in silent agreement, and Jimmy leaned in very close to the face of Airiich and said. "Earl Sean O'Flynn, We are here to care for your son. Let us do what we can to save him."

"I appreciate your humoring me," the words came from Airich's mouth. "but you know I'm not the earl. Airich's safe, I've got him... somewhere, I'm not sure exactly. But safe."

Amy squeezed into the small space at the head of the pallet, never taking her hand off of her knight, not again. Darius and Trevor were frantically removing bandages and pressing on the front wound to control the bleeding. Jimmy, too, left them room to work, but he also had his hand on Airich's shoulder, skin-to-skin. It seemed to Amy that this Bishop's guard knew Airich's father and was conversing with that second-self to get the rightful mind of Airich back in control.

"Of course I'm going to let him back," the knight said, "but not until he's calmed down. The boy should know better—ow!—than to rip his stitches out. But being tortured and nearly murdered does strange things to a man's head. I hope you'll forgive him for your inconvenience and wasted effort, sir," he added for Darius.

"He's not the first patient who's gotten out of control, m'lord," Darius said calmly, even as his hands flew over his work.

Amy's mouth was dry. "They... they tortured him?" she asked in a small voice.

Airich's blue eyes flicked up to her face and he smiled grimly. "Not as much as they wanted to, but... yes, they did."

Amy closed her eyes for a moment to shut out the vision that came to her mind. Stealing a look behind the medics, Amy saw Collos gathering items that looked much like the items they had used in their ritual days before. She squeezed her eyes shut again and silently prayed that all these men knew what they were about.

"I'm trying to get his Shields down,"² Airich said. "It's trickier than I thought it would be. Blast, that hurts."

"Can't be helped, milord," Darius said.

"I know. But I think I've figured out how to do this," Airich said. "Darius, when I give you the word, you make him sleep. And then, you... all of you..." his eyes lit on each person there, "you do what you need to do to fix him. Restore his sanity if you can. Merge or cast out the memories. Whatever it takes. I know I don't belong here, so if I get lost in the process, so be it." He looked directly at Collos now. "I'm trusting Amy's word that you're telling the truth about your intentions. But if I find out that you have other plans for him, I will hunt you down. And I'm a lot more patient and ruthless than the boy is."

Collos allowed himself a smile and gave the other man a half bow. "A man does what he must to protect his children. I take no offense from your threat."

"That is well, for none is meant." Airich closed his eyes and flinched from the medics' work. "Amy, tell Airich he didn't lose to Jasper. One of the other men swept his legs. He'll want to know that."

"Oh my! Yes, I can do that."

"When you're ready, Darius."

"I'm ready, my lord."

"Now."³

Airich's relaxed body went limp as Darius reasserted his control and put Airich into a sound slumber.
²Shields down: Normal Standard (-1D due to merasha) 2d6: 2, 2; Failure
³Shields down: Normal Standard (-1D due to merasha) 2d6: 3, 5; Success

[Marc_du_Temple]

Edwin gingerly picked the knife up and stowed it. "You seemed to rank me far more highly when we saved Gwendolyn together. Or was that mockery?" Having released his wrath in those two punches, Edwin was left just a boy hurt more by the perceived betrayal of someone who he had never fully admitted was a friend in the first place. "Was it truth, in effect, when you struck me on Sir Airich's orders?"

Bede spat. "A lie is na better told with tears in yer eyes. I would know. Unless..." perhaps the blow to the head shook loose his sense. "Unless ye truly believe that the two men who have invested so much in ye would turn on ye so suddenly."

Edwin scoffed and sniffed. "What else is there for me to believe?"

Jimmy was the first to notice Elspeth and Collos joining them, and thus the first to bow. She smiled appreciatively but quickly came to frown as she swept the scene with her strange eyes. "What have you boys done to each other now?"

Jimmy raised his hands, palms open and expression neutral. "I merely stopped them from clobbering each other any worse than they have, mistress."

[Nezz]

Elspeth set her hands on her hips. "I wish you'd stopped them a little sooner."

"He started it," Bede said.

Jimmy bowed again as Elspeth shot Bede a look to keep him quiet. "My apologies, Mistress, but I'm not in the habit of breaking up a quarrel that doesn't involve weapons."

"It might not be a bad habit to acquire," she said pertly.

Collos cleared his throat and addressed the guardsman. "Pardon me, er... Jimmy, is it? They have requested your presence inside."

"They have, eh?" Jimmy said. "Did they say why?"

"They did not."

"Fine. Whatever it takes to get out of this cursed rain," Jimmy muttered. "Just don't try any of that funny Deryni stuff on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Collos said as he gestured for Jimmy to precede him, then both men entered the house, the door closing behind them with finality.

Elspeth turned to Bede and Edwin. "Let us go find shelter for this fine horse, then get ourselves dry." She held up a large key and pointed to the painted-blue door. "I think getting out of the wet will do much to help tempers."

[Marc_du_Temple]

Ignoring Elspeth, Bede rubbed the places Edwin's fists had made contact and smiled. "I'll give ye this, Edwin: before today, this blasted eventful day, I thought that I would trounce ye easily in single combat. Treacherous as your moves ha been, I must respect yer strength. It's one of the few things that I do respect, even in ye." He knew he should not provoke a tormented man, but the devil on his shoulder was heavy, and had said something about keeping the angry youth from closing himself off.

The provocation worked, and Edwin felt free to try again, compelled perhaps to prove something deeper than his rage. ((Edwin Fists 3d6 4 + 6 + 3)) Faster than Elspeth could speak and audibly cutting through the air, he threw all of his weight from the legs, to the waist, to his hand into another solid punch. ((Bede Vigilance 3d6 6 + 6 + 2)) However, another swing at his head was exactly what Bede was expecting, so it was simple enough for him to weave inside of Edwin's explosive punch and thrust out his hand for Edwin's throat, intending to throttle him only a little. ((Bede Strong 3d6 1 + 3 + 3)) Too little, perhaps, for Edwin batted his hand away and recoiled back into the rain, dancing on his feet like a furious snake leering for an opening.

Over the thunder of the blood in their ears, the boys finally heard Elspeth shout, "Stop this nonsense at once! You are supposed to be men, not petulant brutes!" ((Elspeth Charismatic 3d6 4 + 3 + 5)) Having acquired their attention, she began to speak in earnest. "Is this conduct befitting a bodyguard? A respected scholastic? Now, Bede, what is the cause of this, and why must it occur when we are protecting our friend Airich?"

"Both of you, SHUT UP!" Edwin screamed, in the truest sense of the word. Glaring at Elspeth, he snarled, "You look to a known liar for the truth? What do you think happened after I lost the nerve to face the dean?" Turning again on Bede, he demanded, "What's it to you, anyway, whether I speak to one person or another? Who are you, or Airich, for that matter, to punish me like you did? To strip me of all dignity and status and to leave me for dead in that crypt? Well, toad-faced toady? I thought you had more ... independence of mind than to knock me about for a Haldanian twit!"

"Ye dare talk that way about a man who is na here to defend himself?" Bede was more offended by the assault on his person than any jeers tamer than that he heard as a performer.

"Oh, I'd say worse if he were here! But he went and got himself knifed, with his wholly irrational sense of honor, didn't he?"

Elspeth was but a few feet from smacking him were it not for Bede tugging back on her sleeve. She did not appreciate that and made it clear with a glare that finally made him see what others saw in her eyes, if only for a moment. He let go and she addressed Edwin in a stern tone. "You ... are simply mistaken, Edwin. You did in fact see the dean, and all indications are that it went very well for us all. How would the university know to be moving books somewhere safer than here, without you?"

Bede nodded and rubbed his cheek again. "What else would have put ye in such a good mood at the tavern?" he hissed, wincing.

"The Drunken Parchment?"

"No. The King's Arms." Bede relaxed his posture, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, while Elspeth ushered Edwin back under the awning but made sure to stand between the two men. "Ye, me, and Muirea were there. It's a little blurry in my memory, but I remember that I found reason to finally let go of childhood dreams, a reason to still believe in a future beyond the vainglories of banditry, and in between, I was so lost that I did na notice how vulnerable I had left ye, Muirea and I to the tortures of a cruel trickster I had met in the Summer. To ye, he is a student at yer university. To me, he is a jester and hypnotist whose jokes cause real harm to his willing or unwilling participants, and ye left the tavern with him."

Edwin shook his head in protest. "That's not what I remember at all."

"I see that now. He is a greater master of his craft than I knew before. Perhaps even a Deryni himself. But if I did rob ye as I heard ye say, then why do I na have my knife? Why did I fail to save Airich if he and I have been working together without ye since then? I know ye are wary to trust me, but I have witnesses accountin' for my whereabouts. Na only my sweet friend back at The King's Arms, but Eustace, yes, and even the members of yer learned club. All of us men who knew ye were missing were trying to find ye, we just did na know where to look."

Edwin could only sigh with a great heave of his chest and avert his gaze, as his first reaction to this revelation. Then he began to smile, having learned of his success and how mistaken he was as to the disdain his friends had for him. He was skeptical still, since his mind told him something terrible, but he wanted to believe what Elspeth and Bede had said.

Elspeth was more practical, promptly giving Bede the key and saying, "Now, as I was saying: Edwin, please bring the horse to the stable around the corner. Bede, please make the apartment suitable for us to rest in. I think we have had enough excitement for now."

[Laurna]

The young man in the throes of slumber did not stir as Darius added five more stitches to close the wound. New salve and fresh bandages were applied. And then the three younger men lifted the pallet and centered it within the small room. Amy never let her hand stray from touching her knight's face.

It seemed impossible that this man, who had displayed such a strong presence of person, could be brought so close to the brink of losing himself. Amy realized she had seen this before. Different in many ways, but the consequences nearly the same. The other man had lost himself when Deryni Powers had subjected his memories to traumatic events, events that seemed contrary to his honor and his passion.

At the time, Amy had not understood why her son's father had fallen so low, but she had sensed that the torment he'd spoken of, on that fateful night four years ago, could not have been the true history of a man who had held her with such tender hands. Just a few days ago, Sir Airich had explained it all to her, and it suddenly had become clear: her son's father had not been a harsh tormented man all his life. He had been manipulated to think so, to become a pawn of the enemy during a vicious war. The understanding made her want to hold her son in her arms. But more than that it made her want to hold Sir Airich more.

For, at that same time, four years ago, Sir Airich had become a victim of another type of memory tragedy. Memories of another life had invaded his own. That this man had survived four years of such mental torture was a testament to his constitution. Even the Deryni master, Collos, seemed impressed by how he had managed it.  Amy looked long at Master Collos, knowing that she knew him, but from where?

That is not important, she told herself. She looked back down at the sleeping knight and knew in her heart that she had to do everything that she could to help him recover. She placed her left hand next to her right hand upon his temple. He currently slept a dreamless sleep, in a place far from his pains and his memories. Leaning down, she touched her lips to the bridge of his nose, knowing that the men watching her might not approve. She did not care what they thought. She might not have the arcane talent that the four men around her seemed very proficient with, but she did have a deep sense of compassion and empathy to know better than any of them what was important to recovering a healthy life. She would give everything of herself to see that come to pass.

The four men shifted around the makeshift bed to settle themselves, claiming their small floor space. Knowing that she was the least experienced of them all in the arcane, Amy purposely gave away the prominent position she had knelt in; skirts pulled aside she scooted down to the lower left of the pallet, then bunched her excess skirts below her knees to cushion her bottom and then folded her legs in unwomanlike cross fashion. In all this motion she always kept one finger wrapped around Airich's left fingers, no matter what the men did, she would not be forced further away.

Trevor knelt above her at Airich's left shoulder. The guard, Jimmy, sitting cross-legged as she did, sat across from her on the right of the pallet, with Darius settling into a comfortable similar position at the knight's right shoulder. However, he sat upon a thick, rounded, straw-woven cushion. There were only two such Tatami cushions in the room, the second one lay at the head of the pallet: that would be Master Collos's seat, but he had not yet taken his place there. Amy watched as Collos set four candles on the floor near each person who was to perform the ritual, whispering an incantation in some language of the East. Yet he did not light the candles. That would be for each of them to perform.

[Bynw]

"The wards over us are already strong," Master Collos explains, "but for what we do, we will need assurance that we are not disturbed."

As he gathers his robes closer around him, he continues. "Focus is of greatest importance. The four of us will link our minds together. I will be the one who directs all actions. What we do requires attendance to all detail and a consistent influx of energy. I will draw this from all of us as needed."

"We will unpack the alien memories and see what can be done with them. I anticipate that some memories may have to be erased. Some blurred and buried. And then Airich will need to integrate them entirely."

"We each have parts to play to make this successful." Collos looks at the priest at his left. "Father Trevor, as Airich's brother, both you and he will determine the importance of these memories. Which, in turn, will determine their fate."

"As the King's representative," Collos looks directly at Jimmy. "If anything needs to be blurred out or erased, for the sake of the Kingdom, you will determine it. But it must be safe to do so."

"Lastly, Amy, we desperately need your strength to perform this procedure. And more importantly, your presence and empathy will help keep him calm, especially when we get to the more difficult memories. There could be complications."

"What kind of complications might we expect?" Trevor asks.

"I anticipate complications because it has been so many years since these memories were acquired. Many could be rooted too deeply where they are to remove or integrate easily. This is why we have Darius. He will not be in the mind-link with the rest of us. His sole duty is to monitor Airich's physical body and make sure it does not come to any harm."

"How long is this likely to take?" Jimmy asks.

"This procedure will take several hours. We have a lot of memories to go through and integrate. But once we succeed, Airich will be restored."

Trevor leans forward, concerned, "May we call the quarters before we begin. I feel this complicated a task should have as deep a setting as we can make it."

Collos smiles at the priest, "Where I am from, we also call the quarters, though it is in a far different manner than your own. Being that we are in Gwynedd, I am happy to acquiesce to your ritual style."

[Laurna]

Master Collos bent his knee to the candle and let the wick flare to life as he started the ritual using Gwynedd phrasing to help the others understand and focus inward. "Blessed Raphael, Healer, Protector of the Eastern Gate, Bless our work and defend us from any dangers that may draw near..."

Trevor listened to the words, but found his heart aching, unable to fall into the requisite mood.  Before him lay his brother, still breathing, but... was Airich still in there? The voice, the words, the mannerisms... If Trevor was blind, he would swear it had been his father speaking those words. Even though Collos had warned them that such a thing was possible, it still left Trevor rattled.

Lord Iain in the guise of guardsman Jimmy continued the ritual in the South Quarter, like it was second nature to him; he lit his candle with a wave of his hand. "Blessed Michael, Defender, Protector of the Southern Gate..."

Trevor chided himself. He should not have given Darius the go-ahead to make Airich sleep. The priest at times fell into old habits, and instead of treating the knight as a man, he treated him as a little brother who yet lacked the wisdom of his elders. Trevor must not allow himself to think that way while in Deep Rapport, for Airich would feel it, and become resentful and stubborn. And with Airich's life and sanity on the line, Trevor could not allow himself to feel anything but the deepest brotherly love.

Amy, outwardly calm, picked up the tone that the ritual was forming. Seated in the West Quarter, she bowed from the waist to her candle, lighting it while asking for heaven's blessing. "Blessed Gabriel, Messenger of glad tidings to our Blessed Lady,  protect all within our circle from dangers and adversity..."

Almighty God, please grant us all the ability to do this right and not make things worse. Trevor prayed. In his heart he knew the time had come to make his peace with himself and his brother and from this moment forth to Believe with all his being that the Lord would see them through.

"Blessed Uriel..." As everyone looked toward the North Quadrant, the priestly part of Trevor responded. The phrasing engender his whole being. He let himself slide into the calm and surety that this was the best step given the impossible circumstances. "I thank God for bestowing his wisdom upon thee. Blessed Uriel, with your wisdom, protect all within our circle, and especially protect my brother from all dangers and adversity. I would see him whole with your tender grace. Amen"

"Amen," repeated all within the warded room.

[Nezz]

((Massive thanks to Laurna being our wardrobe mistress.))

As the final words of the ritual summoning died away, Master Collos began a new incantation, speaking in a language not from Gwynedd. The air grew heavy with magic. Lethargy steeped into their limbs. A blue mist seemed to form within the warded room. It grew thicker until none could see anything else.

Then the mist began to clear, and they seemed to be standing in a large loft. Piles of fresh sweet hay filled the room and the pleasant smell of horses wafted up from below. Looking around, they saw two young men sitting in the hay, sunbeams glowing around their heads from a nearby window as they laughed at a shared jest. Trevor knew the place immediately as the main stable of Castle Derry. It had been a favored hiding place for all the O'Flynn children at varying times throughout the years.

Amy recognized one of the men to be Airich, but he was younger than her Airich, the planes of his face softer and not so angular. He wore gray scholar's robes, a knotted red cincture at the waist, and his long brown hair caught in a g'dula. The other man could have been his brother, and appeared to be newly knighted—white belt spotless, silver spurs shining at his heels, and his blue-on-blue surcoat looked new. Brown curls surrounded laughing blue eyes, and Amy remembered having seen an image of this man once before, the night she'd first discovered she was Deryni. 

Both men looked up as the mist cleared and saw their visitors. Both rose to greet them.

"I'm so glad you came," Airich said to Amy, grasping her hand to kiss her cheek. "And this is my da. I've told you about him."

"I would prefer you to call me Sean," the knight at Airich's side said, bowing before her and raising her fingers to his lips.

"This is for you," Airich said, holding out a green squirrel towards Amy. It leapt onto her and clambered up to sit on her shoulder. She heard chuckles from the men, but she quickly remembered the training Airich had given her that allowed her to keep certain thoughts and memories hidden from those she might be in Rapport with. She delicately slipped knowledge from her past, especially concerning Carwyn, in among other unimportant things where he would be overlooked by all but the most determined searchers.

The squirrel disappeared in a puff of thought, and Amy realized how very strange this scenario was. The last time she'd been deep into Airich's mind, she'd taken the form of a small fish. But here and now, she wore the form of a woman, and it felt proper to remain that way. She looked down at herself and saw that someone had dressed her in clothes she would never have had the temerity to wear. A shimmering lavender gown—made of dream-stuff that could never exist in the waking world—draped her figure. Hammered-gold bracelets encircled her wrists: none that she could ever afford. An array of perfectly cut amethysts decorated her neck. She really was in Airich's dreams; she wondered if he had dressed her like this, or if she had done so without thinking.

She looked to the men who'd accompanied her here: none of them appeared as they did when they'd begun this ritual. Trevor looked every inch the nobleman, dressed in a stylishly cut, tooled black leather jerkin, long to the knees and slit for riding, The sleeves were slashed exposing a deep blue shirt with white embroidered cross-and-vine motifs on the cuffs and neck edge; a gift of protection from the Madre of the O'Flynn household. A small silver cross on a blue cord lay over the jerkin against his chest. Trevor's hair was long and wild, same as the young knight Sean; the family resemblance was keen.

Jimmy—no, not Jimmy, Amy realised, but Lord Iain—Iain wore clothing more extravagant than Trevor's, a light blue tunic over a sea-green shirt, with some sort of seabird embroidered in silver on the front; kilted plaid of three colors of blue intersected by grays, ending at the knee, held in place by a belt and sporran; woolen argyle socks tied just below the knee, with ankle high soft leather Ghillie Shoes laced up their fronts. He wore exquisite—but tasteful—jewelry, including a pewter brooch and a gold signet ring on his right fifth-finger.

Master Collos looked nothing like the scholar she'd seen him as in the real world. This man was as noble a knight as any she'd seen, wearing strange foreign scaled armor, light and maneuverable. Beneath all, black silks, knee-length embroidered in gold threads at hem and neck edges. A curved sword hung at his belt, and on his shield she saw a device she'd never seen before: a blue dragon, wings displayed inverted, holding a silver-rimmed shield, upon it: a dragon of the East, richly enameled in gold on a black background.

While Amy had been inspecting their surroundings, Airich dropped to one knee before Collos, and bowed his head. "Lord Collos, I see now I had no need to question your motives," he said in the language of Vezaire. "I thank you for your generosity in attempting this healing; it is a far greater boon than I could expect. Forgive me for insisting that we wait for a different healer."

"That is quite all right," Collos replied. "Baron Washburn is a formidable healer. If your situation weren't so dire, I would have thought it wise to gain his cooperation and assistance."

Not knowing how she understood the foreign language of the lands south of the Southern sea, Amy pushed that aside, for she was more surprised by the discourse of what she heard. "You know m—you know Washburn?" Amy asked. Did every nobleman know this man? Who was he in the real world that he was known, so well known?

"I know him well. And I love him as a brother," the Vezaire lord said, and Amy could feel the truth in this statement.

Green squirrel, green squirrel... the fluffy-tailed four-legged creature circled her neck, acting as her protector, then dived under her hair. She cleared her thoughts of all but what was going on in the here and now. The visitation of the unusual creature raised eyebrows, but nothing more.

"We should get started." Lord Collos announced. "Even though our perception of time here moves much differently than we're accustomed to, we still have much to do."

"Very well. Follow me," Airich said, and vaulted out the hay loft window.

((graphic courtesy of bynw))

[Nezz]

((Deepest gratitude to Jerusha for the update on Sidana and Iain))

Sir Iain Cameron watched Airich leap through the window with some bemusement. He picked up Lady Amaryllis—for truly, who could see her as anything but a noble lady, dressed as she was—and carried her through the window, unsurprised by the way they floated gently to the ground. He set the lady on her feet and looked around.

They stood in a canyon within the mountains, at the base of an immense dam made of rocks, boulders, and logs. Water poured forth from the top of the dam, mocking the dam's efforts to do its job, and poured downstream towards a peaceful valley below the canyon. Not far from them, a man-sized badger leaned against the dam, as if trying to support it. Sir Airich was hard at work, carrying large rocks up the side of the dam, trying to reinforce it; Sean assisted, helping him with the larger boulders and logs. Their efforts were insignificant, compared to the dam and the spillage.

Collos stepped up beside Iain, covering his eyes against the glare of the sun as he looked up towards the top of the dam, which seemed to grow higher even as they watched. "I see," he said. "This will be quite the task."

"Will we need to help them build up that dam?" Iain asked the master assassin.

"No," Collos said with a rueful smile, "We need to help Airich drink the reservoir behind it."

"That's a stomach-ache waiting to happen," Iain murmured.

"Sir Airich," Collos called out, "could you bring us to the top?"

As quickly as thought, they were standing near the bank of the reservoir itself, looking into the water, which glimmered in the sun with visions and images and ideas.

"This is where I keep them," Airich said, looking out over the water. "I used to be able to contain them better, but the dam keeps crumbling. It's not as stable as it used to be."

"That's because your mind was not meant to house a reservoir of memories like this, Sir Airich," Collos said. "Before we start, I would like you to show me the spell that triggered this affliction. How you used it, what you expected to happen as a result."

"Of course. Come this way," Airich said, and the two of them were suddenly on the other side of the reservoir. Iain could see Airich pointing into the water and Collos peering at it.

Sean came up to Iain, carrying a large rucksack. "Iain Earl Isles," he said, then stopped and made a face. "I can see why you think of yourself as Sir Iain. The other is a tongue-twister."

Iain shrugged. "Not all of us have a name as lyrical as Sean Lord Derry. What can I do for you, Sir Sean?"

"I overheard that you were going to review the memories that could affect the security of the kingdom. Did I hear correctly?"

"You did." Iain noticed the Derry knight projected sheepishness about something.

Sean held the rucksack out to Iain. "Could you see to it that these memories are put with the others that need to be destroyed?"

"I suppose I could." Iain took the pack. "What's in here?" He started to untie the flap.

"Don't look." Sean set his hand on the top of the pack. "Please. For the sake of my Countess."

Iain looked at Sean and raised a single eyebrow.

Sean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and wouldn't meet Iain's questioning gaze. "These are certain memories... of a personal nature. My wife..." He paused, then shrugged. "She's not even my wife. I remember her as my wife, but to her, I am her son." He gave a sad chuckle. "I enjoy teasing Airich with these memories, but honestly, he shouldn't have them. He should never have to see them. And I—" He sighed. "I don't need to be tormented by intimacies I will never experience again with a woman I love beyond reason." He squared his shoulders and finally looked Iain in the eye. "So, yes. Have those memories destroyed. They are the history of a different man. My future, if I have one, is tied with Airich's. And if things go well with..." Sean glanced towards Amy, who was chatting with Trevor, "Well, we won't need these old memories cluttering up the place, will we?"

Iain, on the other hand, would much appreciate some pleasant marital memories cluttering up the place for himself. "Absolutely not," he said. "I'll make sure these are disposed of for you."

Iain's mind went backward. Four years ago, Sidana de Paor, the Princess of Meara and King Kelson's prisoner, had been given three choices at the end of the Mearan War: execution, exile to a remote convent, or marriage to a man she loathed. She had chosen to marry Iain, and the King's raising of Isles to an Earldom had not softened the punishment in her eyes. Iain had done his duty and brought his bride to the isolated islands at the far northern border of Gwynedd, and there she remained to this day.

The woman who had treated him with such disdain and hatred as his prisoner had turned to cold marble the day they had wed, and so she remained. She fulfilled her duties as wife and countess—he could not fault her there—but she had never warmed to him, even as he had tried to bring her some measure of happiness. The earl and countess of Isles now kept well apart from each other, except when protocol demanded otherwise. In truth, he preferred to be away on the king's business for as often, and as long, as possible.

Iain's musings were interrupted by the approach of Sir Airich—or Scholar Airich, as he currently appeared to be—hiking up the incline Iain stood on. "Guardsman Jimmy," he greeted the spy, then stopped a few paces away and cocked his head. Then he bowed. "Lord Iain," he corrected himself, having picked up on Iain's identity in this deep rapport. "I ask a boon of you."

Like father like son, Iain thought—a little too loudly, apparently, for Airich grinned.

"Speak your request, I'll see what I can do for you," Iain said.

"You plan to report to the King, yes?"

"I do."

"Everything?"

"Everything relevant."

"And that will mean... everything you see and hear within my mind?"

"Likely."

Airich pursed his lips, thinking. "I have been summoned by His Majesty to appear before him as soon as feasible. I had anticipated that I would likely tell him about... all this." He gestured toward the shimmering reservoir. "I'm trying to set everything straight, you see. Confessing my... error to those affected by it. And obviously, considering your part in all this, it does affect our King."

"You're not asking me to keep confidence from him, are you?" Iain asked, bemused that the knight would ask such a thing. 

"No, I'm not. And yet..." Airich looked out into the canyon blocked by the dam, and the valley beyond. "I'm asking you to not tell him yet. In fact, ask him if you can wait to give him your report until after I've had the chance to speak with him. The sin is mine. The confession should be mine as well."

"I can't speak to sin. I don't know how you acquired your father's memories," Iain told him, "and I don't judge you for it, for I know that Earl Derry was alive and well the last I heard. I will ask His Majesty for permission to keep your secret for a short time. If he says No, then I will report everything I deem necessary." And then, because he could feel the concern coming from the  younger man, Iain said, "You should know that Sir Jamyl has advised His Majesty of your injuries, and the fact that this is the reason you have not reported to him. Jamyl has assured him you have not been derelict in your duties."

"Thank you, my lord. I could not ask for a better brother-by-marriage than Sir Jamyl," Airich said, smiling. "I ask nothing further of you. Would you like me to show you where you can find the memories that pertain most specifically to the security of the kingdom? I keep them all together with other political matters. Come this way..."