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Berth stood in the long hall, it was quiet, unusually so. Most of the household had gone to Sarum to retrieve the body of Lord [[Ludwell]], and had now been spotted returning. They would be here soon. He looked down at the scraped hide scroll in his hand, weighing it. The things were surprisingly heavy. A commotion in the yard signalled the arrival of the processon, and Berth sighed. The time for quiet contemplation had gone, now he had to be the tutor of the manor. Listen to distraught relatives, prepare. He walked into the yard, and stopped. There was no body. “[[Lady]] Sioned, wha…” She dismounted, gathering her skirts as her feet touched the ground. “It’s still in Sarum, a hero’s burial they say. We’ll have to go back when they get around to it. Though I’m not sure they will, with all that has happened”. She was pale, but composed. “What has happened [[Lady]]? I only received word of Gamonds death.” For a moment, [[Lady]] Sioned leaned against the flank of her horse, her face lined with worry. Then she was composed once again. “They are dead Berth, they are all dead. The king, Count [[Roderick]], all the high lords. It’s the night of long knives all over again. We’ll be vulnerable, and we must prepare for hard times. “Well, my [[lady]], then I have an urgent matter that needs your attention. If I may?” He gestured into the hall, and as soon as the [[lady]] of the house, now the de facto ruler of [[Ludwell]], had dispersed the servants and assigned necessary tasks they entered. “What is it that is so important?” “It is Lord [[Ludwell]], [[Gamond]]. He left… his last words.” Sioned snorted with momentary laughter, quickly choked as it turned to a near sob. Berth could not help but admire her, she had exceptional self control. “That is… so like him. They said he never spoke before he died, trust [[Gamond]] to be contrary and do things his way, even in death. Let’s hear them then”. Berth unrolled the scroll, catching the small fragment of jade as it rolled out. He didnt really need to read it, he knew the contents by heart. For some reason, reading made it easier though, comfort found in familiarity. “Ah… hm. I should say, it’s not very…” “I knew him Berth, I dont expect poems. Just read it.” He took a deep breath, and began. <poem> I have made Berth put my words here. Yes, Berth, I will say that these are my final words and wishes. I do not understand why it is important. These are my final words and wishes. </poem> Berth looked up apologetically “he ordered me to write every word just as he said them… I” He shook his head, and continued. He hadnt dared do other than precisely as instructed. <poem> This has been a bad spring. A bad winter. I feel something terrible coming. I see my death, down almost every path. Does that make sense? No it doesnt. Well. Let us simply get on with it. Sioned. You have, in your way, been the best of my wives. I have come to care for you, if not love you. You will always have my esteem, and should you quicken after I am dead, with a son, you also have my gratitude. If his Grace [[Roderick]] lives, ask him to take [[Mabsant]] into knighthood if he survives that long. I hope the count regards me enough to do so. My son must not return home before he is old enough to be a knight. Do not allow his return, do not send him word. He must not suffer what is to come. I leave [[Ludwell]] in your hands. When he returns, give him the fragment of jade. Do not lose it. If you have my [[sword]], keep it safe. My son must place it next to the other in the grove of thorns when he returns. Why should I explain that? It is stupid. No, they do not need to know. Very well, I suppose my son ought to. I thought on this for years. We are [[swords]], forged to be knights. The [[sword]] is who we are. What is love? Like the thorn, it cuts deep. It can wound deeply, spill blood. But it is also beautiful in good times, in summer. It binds all of us together, more as years pass, from one generation to another as long as our memory remains. The briar arch, it is all that. There. Berth. Stop smiling. </poem> “Thus read the final words of [[Gamond]] ap [[Edern]], Lord of [[Ludwell]].” The colossus has fallen.
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