"Another visit so soon?" Gladfee asked.

"Aye," Kelton replied. "And tomorrow as well. My Master has seen fit to allow me time with Korvin. House Tarvakian has settled some, allowing all of us to take a breath or two."

"Korvin will be pleased. He takes pride in anyone wishing to listen to the knowledge he's gathered." Gladfee looked thoughtful for a moment. "Mayhap, I will be the same when I reach his years."

"Aye, we all will," Kelton agreed. "And I have a message from the Princess for her mother." He handed Gladfee the sealed note.

"It will be sent on," Gladfee said. "Where will Korvin find you?"

"The fantasy tower," Kelton said, pointing to the north. "I am searching for stories that please the mind. Something without sums and quotas." A half-lie that made perfect sense.

Gladfee laughed. "We all need a pause now and again. Go on then, and I'll see to the Princess's words and inform Korvin. It may take him a while to join you."

"I thank you," Kelton said before he headed toward his chosen tower.

Kelton had spent hours beyond count searching the fantasy tower for references to Aragonia. Fruitless as of yet, he was determined to find some mention in a tale that would shed some light on the first King's interest in the land. In truth, it was also a treasure hunt for memories. To see it scribed would make it real again, and not just a private memory. Something solid to replace whispers.

Kelton's search became methodical over a year ago. He was still on the first floor with three floors to go. Each shelf traveled in turn. Each tome pulled and examined. Sometimes it took only a blink of an eye to discern the lack of success. Other times, many pages needed close examination. Now and again, he would find a story that grabbed his interest and stalled his search further.

"And how is my grandson?"

Kelton turned and dropped to his knee. He tucked the book of ancient verses he had been reading under his arm.

"He is lovely, High Mistress," Kelton replied to the Queen. "It is not how one should describe a boy, yet it is the only word that fits well enough."

"Rise," the Queen said, indicating with her hand. Her smile was warm, which didn't fit with Kelton's knowledge of her. "It is a perfect word for the darling." The two silvers behind her mirrored the Queen's smile. It made it more real.

"I held him yesterday, High Mistress. He laughs with no effort. It is good to be with one who is not yet damaged by years in the world."

"An odd observation," the Queen said. "You see the world as damaging?"

"At times, High Mistress," Kelton replied. "Less so as of late, though I do not know if it is real relief or if I have become accustomed to my place in it."

"I can see why you fluster so many. You steer conversations in the strangest ways. Political, yet not so. I dare say you have just grazed the kingdom with insult without being outright." the Queen said. She was more intelligent than Kelton had first thought.

"My sorrows, High Mistress." Kelton bowed his head. "I am property and see things from the other side of the wall. It was not my intent to insult."

"No matter," the Queen said, brushing away the words. She handed Kelton a sealed note. "A response for my daughter. Also, I desire you to carry words to your Master."

"As you wish, High Mistress."

"My daughter will inform her new father of my pending visit. I wish you to inform your Master of a purpose beyond planning this..." She looked at her silver.

"Festival?" her silver said with a shrug.

"Aye, festival will do," the Queen said with a nod. "I will bring with me the widow of house Faithorn of Mila. It may be best if you look into the house here, and inform your Master of its place in our kingdom. It was a strong house when her husband passed two years ago, and remains so. A merger would be beneficial for all concerned since no children were born to them."

"You wish to marry off my Master?" Kelton asked with obvious surprise.

"Do not trouble yourself with the whys," the Queen instructed. "I wish only your Master warned. Thrusting it upon him unwary may create an unseemly event."

"Aye, High Mistress. I will research house Faithorn and inform him of your intent."

"See that you do," the Queen said, then turned and left before Kelton could find his knee again.

Kelton felt as if he had been thrust into the middle of some political maneuver. He wondered why it wasn't just detailed in the letter to the Princess. Ostensibly, for him to research house Faithorn but that could have been done after, not before the subject was brought forth. For some reason, the Queen decided the idea was better coming from Kelton. If it was received poorly by Tarvakain, Alliette couldn't be blamed. A useful tack if one desired to spare offspring trouble.

Maybe, the Queen maneuvered men by way of their wives. If Zello and Alliette's marriage was any guide, many of the high born found it essential to be seen at such events. The Queen controlled the attendee lists of many gatherings. Perhaps Kelton had just been exposed to a hidden power in the kingdom. He smiled at the absurdity of it all — intrigue by way of roast meat.

Kelton sighed and decided to research house Faithorn as instructed. Without looking, he tried to place the book of verses back on the shelf and missed. It flipped to the ground and landed on its spine, toppled over, and flopped open. Kelton cringed at his carelessness. He couldn't imagine the amount of time it took to scribe such a volume, and then to have a fool drop it without thought.

Reaching for the book, Kelton paused when his eyes scanned the exposed verse. It was titled Requiem of Kushiel. Pieces and parts of which he had heard before.

With head of fire, the first will fall

Marked by beast, three will breathe no more

Cursed is the witness who has seen all

Your end will begin, for hope will bring war

The last of my line will bind your fate

With unbreakable love, her sacrifice made

Hope will become anger, and anger hate

And warriors will bond to strengthen his blade

Then you will know the last day

Kelton had never heard it all at once, much less written. He turned the page only to find another set of verses describing how a squirrel ruled his tree. The page prior held an unrelated sonnet about rocks and the waves that shaped them. He quickly paged through the book and saw no other reference, nor any history or background for any of the pages, much less the Requiem of Kushiel.

It was the first time Kelton had located any reference to Aragonia or its tales, and it excited him. Maybe, Kushiel wasn't even Aragonian. Perhaps he was only adopted by the isolated land, a tale leaked from ships that created a life of its own. All the verses proved was that words could travel between the lands. There was no mention of the original intent, nor of it being the answer that many in Aragonia believed. Words only, as are all texts.

"Ah, there you are," Korvin said. Kelton closed the book of verses with more of a snap than he intended. Korvin lumbered forward, his left leg becoming more uncooperative with time. Kelton shelved the book and noted that he would have to place closer attention to verse type tomes where there was no thread of continuity that allowed assumptions of content. It would slow his search.

"An interesting volume?" Korvin asked.

"Ancient verses," Kelton replied with a shrug. "I was attracted to some of the word usage and how it differs from today's meanings." The truth, yet not.

"Aye," Korvin agreed. "The King's Truth has always been fluid. Words are shaped by the world around them at the time they are written. You may describe beauty today, and years later, the same words have become a curse." He smiled as one expected of a fatherly teacher. The passing on of his wisdom excited him. "Where were we when last we met?"

"The Treewalker," Kelton said, his mind shifting from Aragonia to the Nagada. "You were telling me of the Nagada's beliefs." Korvin indicated a set of chairs and moved slowly to partake of one. Kelton joined him after moving his chair closer so the discussion could remain effortless.

"The ignajuc'kat," Korvin said, the Nagada term for the treewalker. Kelton repeated the word as had been their pattern over the years. The language did not roll off the tongue easily. Korvin was adamant that the pronunciations were likely warped by time. The teaching of the language had traveled through many generations without being corrected by a true speaker.

"They see their lives as penance to the All-Father," Korvin continued. "It is said they were once a war-like people who lived at the expense of others. The All-Father disliked their ways of killing and conquest and offered them annihilation or isolation in the worst of lands. A great priest among them negotiated an end of the confinement, for death was not a choice they would accept."

"Negotiated with the All-Father?"

"It is not the first belief that claims divine communication," Korvin said. "The myth says the All-Father relented and promised that one would come, the Treewalker, and break the Nagada from their exile."

"How would they know when the Treewalker arrives?" Kelton asked. "I have seen some who can walk freely on a branch, and many who climb with ease. If the Nagada are great warriors, would not one have the balance to make the claim by now."

"Mayhap, Treewalker has a different meaning than you and I would attach to it. It's meaning is not specified in any of the accounts I have read, so like you, I think it literal. It could have a different meaning, like one who dances on the leaves at the pinnacle of trees. Mayhap, a man with wings like a bird or who is half squirrel. Myths have a strangeness that rarely requires reality."

"So, they imprison themselves."

"Aye, but they do not think it so." Korvin shook his head. "Or mayhap, they have long given up on such beliefs. Time dilutes many ideas, and they are no more immune than we are."

"Would they not have appeared in force if they had given up?"

"Who is to say they haven't," Korvin responded. "Mayhap, they have mixed with the farmers who border their jungle. It could be that they have long diluted their beliefs and their lineage."

"Are there stories of this?"

"Nay. I have found nothing of mixed marriages, and am too old to travel and find out myself. I am only stating what is possible. Many peoples have been absorbed by other civilizations in the past. Their culture and beliefs becoming one. Who is to say if our version of the All-Father is not marred by the Nagada."

"You do not take much stock in the All-Father," Kelton said. It was not the first time he had heard Korvin speaking of Gods in a way that discounted their divinity.

"I find him like the stories that wall us now," Korvin replied, indicating the shelves of fantasy texts that surrounded them. "Not once has the All-Father spoke to me to prove otherwise. Unfortunately, I can not discount his existence any more than I can state it as fact. It is the nature of the concept of a God that limits its study."

"I too question the existence of deities," Kelton said. "At best, they seem to favor power and coin, ignoring those with little of each."

Korvin laughed, which was followed by a cough. His lungs were no longer useful for deep breaths. "Mayhap, it is coin that is God," Korvin said. Kelton smiled at the truth of it, for even good men sought coin and revered its accumulation.

"Enough of this deep thinking," Korvin said. "Let us return to the Nagada language and their method of plural. It is a difficult concept since they impart a difference between few and many when they augment an object. Very subjective and equally interesting. And like all you have learned, the exceptions are rampant." He smiled like a scoundrel about to steal the last coin from a child. Korvin enjoyed treating Kelton to the illogical patterns of the language. Sorting out the confusion was a favorite talent, and he took pride in it.

The lesson continued as all the others had. Korvin teaching and Kelton proving he had learned by repeating. Korvin always tested past lessons, demanding retention, and penalizing failure with repetition. The reward for success was a proud smile and movement to new concepts, something Kelton found worth more than gold. Boredom was for sipping tea, not learning.

"I am losing my place, Kelton," Korvin admitted after a while. He would always tire after a long session. Age ever his enemy.

"You have given me much to remember. I fear I will falter if I don't have time to digest what you have already taught me."

"Good, good," Korvin said and tried to stand. Kelton stood and helped him from the chair. "There is much more, but a well-learned base is important. We will continue another day."

"Aye."

"And perhaps we can engage in deep thought again," Korvin said with a smile. "It is good to know where our minds are the same and where they differ."

"I would enjoy that," Kelton agreed. Korvin nodded and limped away. He refused to use the shelves for steadiness, or carry a walking stick. A bit of stubbornness, Kelton thought.

Kelton left the fantasy tower with reluctance. The Queen wanted him to research house Faithorn, and his Master would desire her will to be done. He spent a good part of his day doing just that. After a time, he decided to return to the house before he missed the evening meal.

"Do you still know the King's truth?" Gladfee asked as Kelton approached.

"Aye," Kelton replied after shuffling through his memories and finding the pages still secure in his mind.

"I envy your skill," Gladfee said, taking Kelton's word as fact. The testing had stopped long ago.

"May I inquire as to what you are reading?" Kelton asked. Gladfee often read. One of the privileges of his position.

"A study of plants that grow in arid climates," Gladfee replied as he turned the book around so Kelton could see. Kelton studied the page on the left side, taking a mental picture. "You are interested in such things?"

"Nay...I mean mayhap," Kelton said. "I intend to try my hand at scribing, and that page is as good as any."

"You know the King's truth, scribe that."

"It is a new way of scribing I wish to try," Kelton said. "I will return tomorrow, and we can compare."

"A page in one night? Do you not like sleep?"

"A whole page, and I will sleep," Kelton said, adding a cryptic smile. "I am hoping you will approve of my method, though I fear it will not be as neatly done."

"Good scribes take many years to perfect their skills. I will not laugh too hard at your first attempt."

"Laugh, is it?" Kelton said, adding a chuckle. "Mayhap, I will surprise you. Or mayhap, I will be laughing with you."

"A wife? I have never said anything about desiring another." Tarvakain's tone verged on the edge of anger. He rose from his chair and moved toward the center of the room. "And she does so without offering me a moment to decline."

"It is my mother's way," Alliette said. "Always, she believes she knows best in such things." She sounded exasperated with an edge of the same fury that filled her new father. "There is no mention of it in her note. I fear my request for help allowed her this tact. I did not foresee this."

"It is not your doing, daughter," Tarvakian said. His mood quieted, and a smile emerged. "I blame my son for being swept up in his love for you."

"My sorrows, father," Zello said. "My sorrows again, for I would not alter anything even knowing my new mother's will." Tarvakian laughed, which lightened the mood. The worst edge of the news had lost its power.

"And how do I say no without angering the Queen?" Tarvakian asked Alliette.

"I will tell her," Alliette replied. "She is used to me angering her. There have been many times I have thwarted her grand designs."

"Nay," Tarvakian said, shaking his head. "It is best that you stay out of it. It is time my grandson learned to help in such negotiations. You and he should spend time lightening her mood. A daughter with a grandson will be seen as a great success in her eyes, as it is in mine." He sighed. "It is I who must carefully wade through the mire and explain my position."

"Why use Kelton in this?" Zello asked. "Could she not have just bought this woman and left it to propriety to force you to listen?"

"The Queen wished not to make a scene, Master," Kelton replied. "At least that was her words to me. Also, she wished me to research the woman's house and inform of it being a good match. Mayhap, she felt time and knowledge would make the idea more desirable."

"And she did not want to anger me," Alliette added. "To thrust it upon you without warning would have brought out my anger. I know Yelvin appeals to her, and she didn't want to spoil any chance of visits."

"Aye, it is best not a surprise," Tarvakian said. "Though it is no less distasteful with foreknowledge. Mayhap, the match could be proved a disadvantage and save argument."

"It will be difficult, Master," Kelton said with reluctance. "The Queen is not without a mind. If you were to choose such a thing, Bellina Faithorn would be a profitable choice."

"How so?"

"House Faithorn profits are derived from cattle and horse rearing." Kelton shrugged as if they were regrettable facts. "Our routes to Milla would be greatly eased by owning stables there. Our leather works would see more profits from the skins after slaughter, not to mention a lowering of our meat costs. That, and house Faithorn borders lands that are owned by the crown, including the old house of Mortique. There is growth space there that does not exist here. Access to the Milla ports would team well with our wagons. House Faithorn is in position to allow us to gather shipments there until they are large enough to warrant a better rate and still lesson the distance sailed compared to the docks here. There are many trades at foreign ports that would benefit greatly from such a system. Then there are interbreeding benefits of two stables, not to mention fresh horses for quicker turnaround shipments when going to and from Milla."

"All-Father!" Tarvakain said, throwing up his hands. "I do not wish to marry for profit. I do not wish to marry at all."

Kelton felt it odd the way his Master disliked the idea. He could see the dislike of having someone forced upon him, but the idea of not sharing life with someone compatible seemed short sighted and fraught with unhappiness. Surely, the memory of his wife would have faded to the point of allowing another to share his heart. Then Kelton thought of Eveyin. Perhaps a bedmate was all Master desired, even if she were an unwilling one. The idea didn't sit well in his mind.

"Mayhap, I can enlist my father," Alliette offered. "He is the one person my mother will bow to."

"Nay," Tarvakian said while shaking his head. "There are things I wish done in the King's counsel and desire to spend what influence we wield there. This must be between the Queen and me. One can only hope she sees value in my desires. Though, I think her desire for you residing in the greatest of houses is what drives her machinations. My desires may hold little weight in her mind."