"So Queen Griselda is now regent while the King is bedridden," a rested and fed Garshom explained to a small group of us: Storm Eagle, Deer Foot, Sleeping Willow, Bright Stream, Red Hawk, Cat Rider, and myself. "Access to the King gets harder with each passing day, or so I'm told.

"As for what happened to me, the Queen never forgave my interference after the hunting lodge fire, especially when my agents found the arsonist and brought him back to Tammerhof. Finding the man hanging by his belt in his cell before the clerics could cast the truth spell on him was unfortunate, to say the least, but I was forced to turn over custody to the Provost Guards.

"I was framed for the missing funds from the church alms and the case rested on the word of Geralt de Ramnerburg versus my word. There was no evidence, just rumors. Griselda wanted me defrocked and exiled. The King intervened so the Archbishop demoted me and found the furthest, poorest, and coldest temple in the kingdom and sent me there to be forgotten.

"I loved my congregation of Herman's Close, all except the Lord and Lady Herman, who are the Queen's creatures, though bless them, they are still our Mother Goddess' children. First, they cut me off from this imp," he reached out and messed up my boy's hair, "then they decided I was too old to be tending a temple congregation. Five days ago, I was thrown out of my Temple by a young cleric and his muscular valet, though I find the Queen stepping up as regent 16 days ago just a little too coincidental.

"I was sent no return fare or stipend, contrary to tradition. I took my few belongings and stayed with some of my congregation. Then four days ago, a detachment of Provost Guards appeared in Herman's Close with a warrant for me. My congregants hid me and helped me into the forest, whose tracks and trails I know well. They loosed hounds to track me down so I climbed the escarpment, and the rest you know."

"Few have successfully scaled the escarpment with no climbing tools and lived to tell of it," Storm Eagle glowered at the old human priest, "but I think you may be the first to do so during winter, you old fool. You could have fallen to your death,"

"Or I could have been caught by the Provost's men, which would have been certain death," he emptied his cup. "Might there be more of that wonderful hot cider?" Father Garshom had started to sound like his old self instead of a tired and desperate old man in fear for his life.

"If you want to stay here," Storm Eagle sat back in his chair, "I will put you to work schooling the youngsters in things like geography, history, and human commerce."

"Ha! I thought you were going to ask me to do some real work!" Garshom grinned. "Andra…," he coughed to cover his mistake. "Cat Rider, can you run on the false leg?"

"No, any running I do is on Fuzzy's back," my boy explained.

"But your eye? I thought you lost your eye in the fire?" Garshom was incredulous.

"It's glass, Father Garshom," my boy looked smug. "I have several I can use, including one that's a magic lantern."

"Merciful Matadee!" Then the old man smiled, "I have worried about you. I knew my lady here was looking after you but then she vanished and you with her. Arriving here safely, where I knew my old acquaintances Storm Eagle and Deer Foot would not turn me away, and then finding you and my lady here has lifted a great weight from my heart. If I were to perish tomorrow, I would go to our Great Mother in peace."

"Oh, stop it, you," Storm Eagle snapped. "You're all gristle and too tough to kill that easily. Here, have some more hot cider," held out a pitcher so he could pour the priest some more. "We have several groups of younglings going out on their two years adventuring as soon as the snow melts. I would be grateful if we could get them here and have you give them the benefit of your knowledge about the world beyond our borders."

"You know that all you need to do is ask, Storm Eagle," Garshom smiled and looked truly happy. It made me happy to see him happy.

"My lady," he addressed me, "could I beg a favor of you? Would you visit Herman's Close and take a message to Dekker or Fredders or Molly, the baker's wife? My friends there will be worried for me and I would like them to know I landed in a safe place."

I nodded. It was an easy favor.

Sleeping Willow looked at Garshom and then me. "Father Garshom, how is your magic, might I ask?"

"I am very good at healing, solid in all five of the basic spell types, and proficient in battle magic, which is the consequence of being a knight mage before I changed my path in life to follow the Mother Goddess more closely."

"In other words, you are a practicing mage, yes?" she concluded.

"Yes."

"Excellent, I could use a hand at teaching magic to some of my more unusual students." She grinned at me. "Fuzzy, why don't you show Garshom your light spell."

“μειτσjε μ ν ἰτ λjοχτ.” I said the old language words in my mind, casting it on myself.

"By Erda!" Garshom's jaw was hanging. "That's...that's..."

"Yes, it's amazing, Fuzzy is an excellent student and unlike some students who happen to be in this room, she never talks back."

Everyone laughed except Cat Rider, who pouted instead.

“γενεγ.” I ended the spell.

"Fuzzy, try your newest spell on Father Garshom," Sleeping Willow winked at me.

I fixed my eyes on the priest and said in my head: οαδιννε στjοερ μν γεδαχτε δηριννε.

* Hello Garshom * I sent the thought to him.

"You can mindtalk?" he almost fell off his chair.

* Is hard *

"You can mindtalk!" Garshom beamed. "The more you practice, the easier it will get."