Wharton's Lock

The road home from Chester was lonely, which was good and bad - no company, but no brigands either. Once in Beeston, she made a quick stop by her home. Cold and dark, Betsy had done fast work packing the place up. She peeked into the parlor, glad to see that her favorite chairs had been moved, then wandered through the other rooms leaning on the door frames as she said a silent goodbye to each space. Locking the front door behind her, she set off for Sven's cottage.

Sven's home was a one room timber structure at the edge of the forest. Entering, she glanced around the room, her eyes adjusting to the light. A few pots, a straw mattress, a table and bench. She sorted through his meager belongings, handling them carefully.

Turning to leave, something behind the door caught her eye. She picked up the longbow and could tell by its slightly shorter than average length that Sven had made it for her. A wedding present he had never had the chance to give. She ran her fingers along the curve of the wood, yew, and admired how Sven had carefully selected a piece where the heartwood met the sapwood. Next to the bow was a quiver of arrows. She pulled one out and examined it, ash with a steel tip.

After packing up a few of his belongings, she made her way to the mill in the failing light. Leaving Czar with the stable boy, she rushed to house anxious to see Grendell. She had been gone too long.
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The mill was quiet, usually the few hours overnight between jobs where always like this. Tonight was different. Grendell fixed the sign to the door,'Closed till Further Notice' in the evening gloom.

The millhands had a few days off, the river would no doubt see some new anglers the next few days, while the Duke did his travels. Across the road Jack Cade's was open for business, a steady stream of customers waiting on the new bar staff to serve their ale and food.

Upstairs in the mill Grendell joined Cecily on the balcony overlooking the wheel, still and silent for the night. His arms wrapped around her he picked her up and carried her inside, his lips pressed to hers as he threw her onto the furs over the bed. The heavy pads of Moose's paws sounded on the stairs as he headed out of the way, knowing better than to stay around.

Later curled against her, he strokes her face in the dark, knowing he's going to miss her, her smile, her jokes, her touches. Finally he falls asleep, cuddled against her soft skin.

In the morning she joins him, up early. Gratified to see her he makes the most of it with gentle kisses and unnecessary touches on her hands. Together they eat breakfast, watching the fish in the river catching the early morning hover flies. Unable to put it off any longer he pulls on his riding gear, his armour fitting over the top. On his saddle he straps Charlotte as well as the lighter blade of his sword. down the other side sits one of Myfanwy's new crossbows, the bolts wrapped in hessian to prevent them being damaged and fresh sheaf of normal bolts is strapped to his thigh over the cuisse. Helmet off for now, he checks his bevor and adjusts his cloak before fitting his gauntlets.

A last kiss and a close hug, he mounts up and sets off south, the ducal colours flying on his horse's livery alongside his wolves badge. A final glance over his shoulder to watch her wave him off and he turns back to the road, telling himself thetear in his eye is just the wind. 'See you soon my dear heart' he whipsers to himself as the horse's pace picks up.

Not until Grendell had disappeared around the bend did Cecily go back inside. Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it, eyes closed, arms crossed about her. Pull yourself together...she told herself...No time to mope. With a deep breath, she set off to prepare for her own journey. Finding Betsy in the kitchen, she launched into a list of things that needed to be done.

"...I'll need clothes for....better pack some extra rations....ask Rowan to...." Betsy just looked at her with a sympathetic smile which Cecily did her best to ignore.

Upstairs, she dressed, plaited her hair and slid her dagger in its sheath onto her belt. Finally, she donned a crimson cloak of fine Italian wool trimmed in fur. An extravagance she didn't usually afford herself or even care about, but this was an important day, an important week. She took a quick look at herself before hurrying out to the stables.

Betsy, dear woman, had her things together and Rowan had already tacked up Czar. She secured her sword and bow to the saddle and mounted, riding off to meet the other Bowmen for their march to Chester.

Finally home, he watches the mill being stopped for the last time. The big wheel is left outside to turn in the rushing waters but inside the millstones are removed and the room cleared.

At the back of the house an old anvil has been set on a block of wood and a furnace is being built, the big bellows being lowered into place.


Watching the work Gren looks over to Cecily waving at her as she turns the blade of another axe on their grinding stone.

'Looks like blacksmithing is the family business now eh honey? Lets see if we can make this work. Can't wait for the first sword to come off here. Maybe I'll name it...hmm'

etting her work aside, she wiped her hands on her skirt as she crossed the room to Grendell. She embraced him tightly before before turning and leaning back against him, his arms around her, to watch the bellows being lowered.

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Can't wait for the first sword to come off here. Maybe I'll name it...hmm'


"Anything but Cecily, Darling," she said with a laugh. "I already have a donkey named in my honor."

Jenibelle

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Dear Cecily,

I hope that this letter finds you well. It is amazing how things change after one gets married. How even what you thought was concrete and unmoveable turns to wind and changes. Like the river, never the same waters twice.

THat makes me sound sad doesn't it? But I assure you my dear friend I'm anything bue. I'm radiently happy. As I have written about my feelings of nausia, it turns out that I'm pregnant. Grim and I are expecting our first child. I'm so happy that I am barely contained.

I could have never believed it could happen so quickly. But things tend to change quickly when they do. And when you least expect. Everything has changed. I wish I could tell you all the ways. That and I keep repeating myself.

As always, until we meet again,
Jenibelle

PS Send everyone my love. Blake, Jerty, Mini, Mac, Gren ... and everyone else in the taverns.



Jen laughed quietly as she blew the ink dry on the letter and folded it. Leaving her office she rushed down the stairs to catch Blake before he left on his trip to Beeston. "Please hand this to Cecily when you get there?" She asked sweetly.

"Of course, m'lady." Blake stated in his usual polite address. Jen smiled brightly before she hugged him and left him to finish packing the horse.

"Stay safe on the roads." Jen commented before she left the barn.

After tying her sword and pack to Czar's saddle, Cecily wandered to the forge to say goodbye to Gren. Bowmen duty was calling her away but the prospect of a few days in the company of friends heartened her. A smile came to her face as she thought of Jen's good news.

The stiff wind lifted the newly fallen snow from the ground, swirling it in circles. Cec shivered and pulled her cloak tightly around her. To her surprise, the workroom was empty, the fire cold. With a frown, she turned for the house to leave a letter.

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My Dearest Grendell,
I am leaving for Chester for a few day on Bowmen duty. I shall miss you and am sorry that I did not have the opportunity to properly say goodbye. With love,
Cecily


She left the note on the pillow and wondered if it would still be there when she returned home.

Carefully Grendell runs the whetstone along the blade for the final time. In the traditional fashion he draws his arm back and strikes it three times against a solid oak stump.

The blade makes a tuneful ringing noise as it vibrates along its length, no chips or fractures along the blade.

Smiling he holds it out, testing the balance on his finger. Satisfied he once again lays it on the forge, warming the metal before laying it over the top of the stump. Carefully he pours over the blade the contents of a small glass phial, the contents hissing and steaming, leavinga beautiful patina along the base of the blade.

As the blade cools he picks up his tools and sets to work, etching the words into the metal. One side bears just one word - Justice, the other two - Lupus Mortis.

Finally done, Grendell holds the sword in his hand and draws it through a simple routine, the tip whistling through the cool morning air. Satisifed, he takes it inside and lays it on the table, his masterpiece for now.

Looking round he sees the pile of routine work that needs doing and sighs deeply, wondering aloud about his choice of profession. Glad when Cecily gets back to help with all this he muses before drawing the whet stone along yet another dulled axe blade. To be fair I'll just be glad when Cecily gets back and I can see her again.

As he works a voice hails him from the sides and he looks up and grins. The new sign has been delivered and happily he watches it being raised into place. 'Hope Cecily likes it when she gets back' he mutters.

Leaving the horse with Rowan, Cecily made her way to the forge. The day was clear and bitterly cold. The sun glared blindingly off the blanket of snow.

Smoke pouring from the chimney of the forge, hinted at the warmth inside. A new sign hung over the door welcoming patrons to their already booming business. How things can change in a couple of days...she mused.

Slipping in, the steamy air enveloped her. A stack of unfinished buckets and knives waited on her workbench. Grendell, his back to her, was busy at the whetstone honing the blade of an axe. She slid up behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder, thinking a split second too late that it may not be a good idea to sneak up on a man with an axe in his hand.

"I've missed you." She said softly in his ear. "Can we aim for a few days at home together?"

Sunlight glinted off the sword on Gren's bench. "You finished it!" she cried. "It's beautiful."

Turning he puts his arms round her hugging her tight, whispering of course my dear before pressing his lips to hers in a warm embrace.

Pulling away he laughs, seeing the dirt he's left smeared on her nose and wipes it off with his thumb, successfully smearing more on her cheek in the process.

Realising that with the forge there is no other people around, unlike the mill he grins and lifts her up in his arms, bundling her towards the door.

'Time to get reaquainted with my wife' he whispers in her ear as kicks the door shut behind him. The big dog inside takes one look and goes and lies down in the kitchen, knowing when to stay out of the way.

.................

That evening Gren stands in the kitchen frying some steaks in a pan, fresh bread waiting on the plates beside him. Carefully he slides on the venison slices and tops them up with some wild mushrooms before sitting next to cecily at the table. Her head and a random hand peek out of the blankets she has wrapped around her still and he snuggles against her, glad she is back again.

Sleepless night. Did she really expect sleep? The morning light brought no relief, instead it cast a harsh glare on reality. She rose from the warmth and familiar comfort of the bed into the numbing coldness of the bedroom. Visions of yesterday flashed through her mind as clearly as if they were happening before her.

The heavy oak doors of the courthouse swing open sending a stiff wind down the aisle. She looks to the doors to see who has entered. A collective gasp passes through the crowd.

Carefully adding a few pieces of kindling to the fire, she gently blew on the dying coals until a small flame burst forth. Slowly, she fed more wood to the fire until it was burning strongly. Sitting back on her heels, she stared into the dancing flames.

Four men wearing the red and black livery of the king storm down the aisle. All eyes follow; confusion spreads through the court.

Shaking her mind from her thoughts, she stood, bundled herself in her robe and sat before the mirror at her dressing table. She traced her fingertips along her brow, across her red and swollen eyes and down her cheek. The woman staring back at her hardly seemed herself.

Two of the men guard either side of the aisle, the other two approach Grendell from behind, looping under his arms and pull him roughly from his seat.

She averted her eyes from the visions in the mirror. Filling the washbowl from the ewer left by the door, she splashed the icy water over her face. She pressed her frozen fingers to her eyes, the light rose fragrance filling her senses.

The men lead Grendell down the aisle. Her cry fills the air as she tries to push her way to the doors. Mac catches her in an embrace.

Winding her hair up, she secured it with a comb. One last glance at her reflection and she rose to get dressed.

A stunned silence fills the air, broken only by a cough. Her knees go weak. Thankfully, Mac helps steady her. She watches, helpless, as the men lead Grendell away, the last man slamming the door behind them.

Dressed, she reached for her cloak. Unwilling to acknowledge the possible outcome of yesterday's events, her hand passed over the black cloak in favor of the one behind it.

Her crimson cloak beaming against the snow-blanketed ground, she set off to face her future.

Outside, sitting by the trees Grendell watches her leave. His first instinct is to call out but he waits and watches, wondering where she will head for.

His own footprints disappear as the snowfall starts and soon so do hers. With a sigh he pulls himself up and limps across to the old mill. In the yard the remains of his forge stand empty, his tools and anvil gone to pay his debts.

In the stable he finds his horse and he gives him a quick pet and rubs down his coat while thinking of the future.

A low growling reaches hi ear and he turns in time to see th ebig dog jump up at him, tail wagging. Laughing he catcjhes the dog as it knocks him over and rolls on the floor with the creature rubbing his face and neck.

A bit happier he walks inside, Moose at his side. Some food on the table quickly disappears. Tired and sore he walks up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Cecily and dropped fully clothed on the bed. Moose quickly follows and jumps up next to him, th epair sonn battling each other for the title of loudest snorer.

Moose didn't greet her at the door. Most days that would have seemed strange, but today it barely pierced her consciousness. Evening had come early and she lit a candle to brighten the dim kitchen.

She pulled the comb from her hair and unwound the chignon, smoothing the locks with her fingers. Her hand stopped midair as she went to throw the comb on the table. A nearly empty plate lay there, bits of what was to have been her dinner dried onto the edges.

She froze, heart beating in her throat and listened to the silence. With a frown, she peeked into the parlor then tiptoed up the stairs, clutching the hilt of her dagger.

As she stepped into the bedroom, the large dog lifted his head and looked at her with a grunt before resting his nose back on his paws. Grendell lay snoring next to him.

She collapsed against the doorframe, the dagger dropping to the floor with a loud clang.

The noise wakes him and he wearily raises his head, a weak smile on his lips.

'Welcome home lover, I wondered if you'd come back. It is so good to see you.'

Pushing himself up he breaks out coughing, a thin bead of blood on hislips, 'Sorry darling, the kings men aren't the gentlest of questioners, and I not the greatest of men. It seems the offices of his majesty take a dim view of tax evasion. I'm left with nothing but the dog, the horse and the box of junk downstairs, and you if you'll still have me' Standing up he staggers before regaining his step and limps towards the door where cecily still sits.

Sinking down beside her the bruises around his eye are more visible, and his breathing distinctly raspy. Favouring one side he winces as his ribs grate. 'Told you I'd be okay dear, I'm broke, but okay'

Leaning forward he puts his arms around her pulling her tight to his chest, his own tears dripping down his chin onto her hair.

ou wondered if I would come back!" she gasped in disbelief. Pulling back from him, she slapped him across the cheek before bursting into tears.

Relief at having him home alive soon washed with the anguish of the last few days, the disappointments, loneliness and heartache of the last month. She tried to speak through her sobs, but only fragments of her words could be understood. I....alone....why?....lies....dead....

Deflated, she rest her forehead on his chest, his chin on her head, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. His hands stroking her back and her hair, she finally managed to calm herself enough to speak. "I still love you." she whispered.

Hugging her tight to him, he whispers and I love you too.

In the doorway they sit holding each other tight, each glad of the others presence. Eventually the big dog gets bored and shoves his nose against their faces, his tongue licking each of them in turn.

Laughing Gren pushes him away and he stands up pulling Cecily with him.

'I wish they'd taken him and left my tools' he jokes, ruffling the dogs head. 'Come on then sweet, lets find something to eat'. Holding her arm, as much for physical support as for love they trek back down the stairs.

In the kitchen he pours two small beers from a barrel left over from the tavern and rummages in the pantry. In a short time he puts a platter of pears fried in sugar and brandy on the table for Cecily to pick at as he carefully trims some meat and potatoes, loading up a pie. Slicing some veg he throws it in a small cauldron suspended above the fire as he shoves the pie in the base of the clay stove.

'Right' he says, pressing his lips to Cecily's, tasting the sugar on her mouth. 'Time to talk isn't it?' As Cecily eats the pears he takes sips of his beer, explaining to her about the illegal trading deals he had done, the subterfuge, the groups he had abandoned and betrayed. 'Sorry my dear, I let you down' he says as he rises.

Laying two platters on the table he lifts out the pie and lays it down next to the little cauldron on the table. Pouring each of them a fresh beer he lays a portion of each on their plates. Eating in silence he finishes first and reaches over to stroke her face.

'I'll be outside when your ready' he whispers.

In the yard he lights the coals in the forge and goes back inside. Shortly he returns half carrying, half dragging a wooden chest. Opening it up he starts to throw the contents on the fire. First up are the deeds and crenellation license to chillingham, then all his ducal papers, the manual of law he had been working on, a set of coded papers stamped with a wolves head quickly follow them. A battered jacket with a red and gold wolf on the arm follows these along with the now battered copper fox mask of the black company. The papers and licences of the black company and its holdings join the flames. Soon the chest is nearly empty, a few licences and title deeds left in the base, a battered box of papers that belonged to Prince John and a vast empty space all that is left of the past. As the flames lick skyward he turns to see Cecily framed in the doorway.

'You okay my love?' he calls

She stood in the doorway, a long while, just watching him burn the mementos of his life to this point. The same man, yet somehow different. She wondered if one day he would tell her what had happened at the hands of the king's men. She wondered if she really wanted to know.

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'You okay my love?'


His voice interrupted her mediations. "I think I will be." She replied as she came to stand beside him, her arm around his waist.

They watched as the flames died down; the last of the papers turning to ash and smoke, the fox mask staring eerily from the coals. "All's not lost." she said, touching his bruised eye gently before tenderly kissing his lips.

"I put some water on to heat. You'll feel better after a good soak and a sound night's sleep." Back inside, she filled the tub and helped him take off his shirt. Dark bruises covered his back and ribs. She ran her fingers just above the surface of his skin, surveying his injuries. Standing on tiptoe she lightly kissed the top of his shoulder, the only spot left unmarred by blood or bruise before helping him into the bath.

Later that night, she lay next to him unable to sleep. In the dim light, she watched the rise and fall of his chest until she finally drifted off.

Dawn sees Grendell up and about clearing up the mess and tending to the animals. His muscles ache but he muses at least I can feel pain, means I'm alive.

Stripping to the waist he dips his head in the trough to wash off the dirt and almost shouts at the cold. Rubbing himself down he goes back inside to gather up some breakfast.

A short while later the smell of eggs frying with some bacon pulls Cecily from there bed and he greets her with a plate of toast, eggs, bacon and mushrooms.

As he eats comes a banging at the door, looking through the flap he sees the town herald, and a king's guardsman. With trepidation he open sthe door.

The guardsman motions the herald to go first and he pases Grendell a wedge of official notices before running off. The guardsman just smalls and steps in.

'We meet again sir. I see you have settled back home'

Grendell doesn't answer.

'Very well, however today it is a different matter we seek answers for. Where is the girl Myfanwy? She's known to be an associate of yours and we require her for questioning' the way in which he says the word leaves little doubt as to exactly what they intend to do when they find her 'for the murder of a gauardsman and several civilians. You wouldn't know where she is would you'

Slumping at the table Grendell shakes his head, 'No, I haven't seen her since I was at the trial, she seemed a bit crazed then but no more so than usual and....what is it?' he asks as Cecily goes white.

'I..I forgot to tell you with everything else' quickly she passes ion the tale that Frey gave her and the fact that Frey is being hidden by friends.

'Damn you woman, she could be in danger' snarls the guardsman running for the door. Smashing it wide open he grabs the reins of his horse shouting for the othe riders.

'And my son? what of him?' Grendell asks his wife. 'Don't worry they are both safe' she replies, 'Though it would do well for us to warn their guardians'.

'Let me get something' he mutters and stands on the table, the official letters forgotten for now. His hands rummage on the beams above them and he shortly lifts down an oiled package and a tube of vellum.

Laying the package out on the table he unwraps it, exposing his old one handed crossbow. With a grin he slots the pieces back into place, testing the string. 'Ah, an old friend' he mutters, 'May come in useful' he says to Cecily noting her disapproving grin. Laying it down he looks at the vellum seals as if making a decision then breaks them open. Drawing out the canvas inside he unrolls it passing it to Cecily. 'Would be your yule present but got forgotten in the rush, I had one of the passing mendicants arrange it'

Holding it in her hands it shows her ready with her sword before one of the early Chester Bowmen execises. 'I think we need to frame it so it doesn't get damaged' he says looking at it over her shoulder.

"It's beautiful. And I have nothing for you. What with the trial and my sister visiting, I scarcely remembered the holiday." After rolling the canvas back up she squeezed his hand and smiled over her shoulder at him. "Thank you."

Her breakfast getting cold, she slid the plate before her and began picking at her food. Half expecting the king's men to storm back in, she kept glancing to the door as she pushed the food around her plate. Grendell rest his hand on hers and gave her a reassuring look. "I know," she said, "I know, I can't help but worry."

"We had best get a message to Frey. They'll not be safe long where they are. " she said as she pushed back from the table. "Do you have any idea where Myfanwy could be?" She picked at a mushroom while pondering Myfanwy's whereabouts. "I fear that she's watching us in hopes that we will lead her to Frey."

'Who knows? Before i met her in Burgundy she was working as a courtesan and a spy for one of the minor powers. She can plan as well as any captain I know and her fighting and hunting you've seen before. She's dangerous and mentally unstable. If she gets it into her head the regent is to blame she'll be in his bedchambers alreday. The fact we're sitting here peacefully lends to the conclusion she's elsewhere. Logically she met Frey in Worcester, Warwick castle to be precise. Its burnt down so where would Frey's friends go? I'm guessing you'll have hired them for the castle so Myf would probably be stalking the castle in the hopes of recognising someone else from worcester.'

taking a bite of his toast he runs it round the juices on his plate.

'That would be my suggestion, she's at the castle. What do we do? I'm in no state to fight her anymore. So do we tell the kings men where to go, do we get the constable to find her first or do we concentrate on getting frey away and back to her people?'

Sitting back down properly he twiddles with the crossbow as he finishes his breakfast, his eyes wandering to look at Cecily, trying not to grin at the egg yolk on her chin till finally her reaches over and wipes it off with his thumb.

'What do you think lover? Time to get one away then hunt the other at leisure, of catch the hunter first?'

"I'm afraid there is not going to be much leisure in this hunt. So much for a few quiet days at home." she muttered the last comment under her breath as she began clearing the dishes from the table. "You're right," she said glancing at him. "You are in no condition to fight her and I am no match for her by myself. We need help."

Dishes neatly stacked, she sat back down next to him watching him tinker with the crossbow and wound her hair up in a knot.

"I can't bring any more danger to the people who were kind enough to take Frey and Gryff in. If you are sure that she is not following us, we can get notice to the Constable and Sergeant to help with the search while we move Frey and the baby. But move them where?"

"While you think about it, I'd better get dressed." she caressed his shoulder on her way past him to the stair.

A short while later, dressed and armed to the teeth, she emerged from the house with her satchel to find Grendell ready and waiting with the horses

Greeting her with a hug, he pulls himself up onto his horse, his sword strapped to the side of the beast alongside where he has hung the crossbow.

'Remind me my love, when we carch up with her I want one of those new horse bows she had made, although if she really has been touched by the Gods I feel we will be seeing the business end all too soon.'

Reining in his horse he pulls alongside her as she settles herself in the saddle. 'Where to? My first thought is get Frey and Gryff and escort them to the Warhound, she's still ours, and have her sale somewhere safe. She's Gryff's official guardian and I'd rather a missing live son than a dead close one. Lets get them aboard ship and to sea, then help the law find Myfanwy.' Leaning forward on his steed he kisses her softly on the cheek.

'Thank you my love, now I'll let you lead - you know where we're going. We'll send a messenger to get the Warhound to meet us - Holywell or Ellesmere?'

Holywell," she said, looking at the late morning sun." And we will be hard pressed to get there before dark." Realizing suddenly that it was no one's fault but her own that they would be riding after dark, she fiddled with her skirts, avoiding Gren's gaze.

She nudged her horse forward at a good clip and grinned sheepishly over her shoulder at Grendell.

By mid-afternoon, both horses and riders were sorely in need of a rest. They dismounted by small creek, and hobbled the horses leaving them to drink their fill and graze on the dormant grass. Cecily took some hard cheese and bread from her bag and sat down in a patch of sunshine, motioning for Gren to join her.

As they ate, she recounted the whole story to Grendell: Frey coming to her in the gallery, hiding Frey and Gryff in the castle office, sneaking them out with the musicians at the end of the banquet. "Lady Fugue offered to take them in until we could get them out of town," she explained popping the last bit of bread into her mouth. "They should have been safely gone by now except..." her voice trailed off as she thought of that afternoon in the courthouse.

Their meal done, she stood brushing crumbs and bits of grass off her skirt. She reached down to give him a hand up, only to be pulled into his lap. Grinning back at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips against hers. Recognizing that this would likely be the last few minutes of peace they would have for the next few days, she wondered why she was in such a hurry.

Finally, reluctantly, they rounded up the horses and continued on their way.
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It was dark when they reached the town, the gateman stopped them as they approached.

'For Loki's sake, I get rid of my wolf badge, take off the mask covering my face and all of a sudden I'm suspicious. It's Grendell of,, well never mind, and the Lady Cecilywolfe, come to find friends and succour. Now open the damn gates its cold.'

The heavy gtes swing outwards enough to let them thorough and Grendell mutters a quick thanks to the gurad. Inside he takes a look round, only having been here a few times and then just to and from Beaumaris. Dismounting he takes the horses reins in his hands and walks the steed up the road as Cecily rides beside him. Outside the tavern he was heading for he recognises the livery on the horse and tkes a closer look. 'Inana's, whats she doing here?' The temptation to rifle the pouches is great but with other things in mind he pushes away and motions to Cecily to head for the next one.

'Lets get a some food and a drink then a decent bed for the night dearest, and then we can have an EARLY start ion the morning, you know before lunch' he jokes at her. Laughing he helps her down and kisses her softly on the cheek as they hand their horses over to the ostlers. Wrapping one arm round her waist he picks up their packs in the other and escorts her inside.

IcyFlames

Heading back to the tavern to make final preparation he sees Gren and Cecily coming down the road. Quite suprised to see them.. especially him. Icy hadn't been fully versed on the events after he was escorted from the courthouse. He was very surprised to see him alive at this point. Wether it be from the king's men or Cecily's hand to strike him down.

Good to see you both. Why didn't you send word you were coming to Holywell? I could have made arrangements for your stay. I wil be a bit busy this evening to entertain properly, but I can make myself available tomorrow. The Stumble Inn is abit preoccupied tonight, so if you need lodging, you are more than welcome to stay at my home should you feel the desire.

He points them in the direction of his home before he heads off.