We've finally been able to get ourselves back on the road, without our new housemaid tagging along behind. Eating a full breakfast and listening carefully to his directions to the baths were enough to satisfy his need to be helpful.

Alistair, on the other hand, could be take a leaf from David's book. He's been prancing for the last mile and I am not enjoying it.

"Get your horse under control,' I snap into Samuel's ear. He laughs, but does his best to calm Alistair.

"Do you suppose they'll be wedded immediately?" he calls back to me, voice light in the wind. It's shaped to be a beautiful day and I have to wonder the same thing. Rosemary isn't fond of waiting, I'm quite sure, and she has been forced to wait for a long time.

Seeming to understand my silence, Samuel adds, "Perhaps exposing her father will be enough of a wedding gift, in either case."

"Wedding gift?" We've hardly managed to ensure that Rosemary and Josan will be wedded at all!

Samuel just says innocently, "I was only thinking ahead, Merrin."

I have, in the past, been forced to attend a number of weddings, both in the court and out in the fields. Courtly weddings are less a celebration of the union of two persons as an exchange of a son or daughter for money, land, or title. I can only hope that Rosemary and Josan will have something closer to the country weddings, despite her title. I say closer because I feel the customary urge to drink everything within reach after the ceremony is not something I want to witness yet again.

The gifts are another thing altogether. At court weddings, the gifts are often useless but beautiful, and at country weddings, the gifts are more often useful and more. quaint in appearance. What could Rosemary and Josan possibly need, besides the chance to be wedded? What better gift could we have given them?

Alistair leaps suddenly into a gallop and I clutch at Samuel belatedly, almost falling backwards off the horse. Samuel only laughs and urges the stupid horse on, leaning forward and allowing me to get a slightly better grip on his waist.

Between the two of them, this will be quite an irritating trip back to the manor.

~~~~

"Samuel! Merrin!" Rosemary cries out, her skirt flying as she runs down the lane, laughing joyously. Josan, Erian, and Lien follow at a more sedate pace, although they each look just as thrilled. Alistair prances to a stop in front of Rosemary, bobbing his head at her appreciative curtsey.

I slide off the horse with little ceremony and meet Rosemary's embrace with one that is even stronger. I haven't had the chance before to see her as simply happy as this, and for once, I am unable to find a single cynical thought to hide my own emotions. I notice Samuel seeming to smirk out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn, he is only smiling. I would say something rude, but Josan is joining the embrace.

"Thank you so very, very much," he whispers into my ear, and I realize that everyone has been speaking all this time, but I haven't been giving them my attention. It's more noise than actual words, though, so I am certain I could be forgiven.

Rosemary's smile turns just a bit sorrowful. "I wish you could stay for the wedding, Merrin, Samuel. It won't be the same without my heroes there."

Samuel and I exchange startled glances, and he asks, "Why can't we stay for the wedding?"

Lien clears his throat and finally steps forward, with Erian just one step behind, both appearing quite serious. "A summons was sent to the manor today for both of you. You are to appear in His Majesty's Court within two weeks."

Court. The real, honest, Royal Court of the King and Queen. For the both-

"A summons for Samuel and for myself?" I demand, a bit stridently to my own ears, but apparently sounding closer to hysterical from the surprised looks I'm receiving. "For both of us?"

"For both of you," Erian repeats. "Sir Samuel and his companion, Merrin of Wrynne."

I turn away to hide the inevitable facial tic upon hearing that title. It belonged to my mother, to her family, and my father dropped it after her death. It was the most obvious sign that the Court had not forgotten my mother, even with though it had seemed to in the long days of her illness.

"Merrin?" Samuel puts his hand on my shoulder and I jolt out of my thoughts, finding a sudden refuge in rage.

"Isn't that lovely," I snipe, tilting my face to the sky. "Do they even think that perhaps we could do with a small rest after exposing a scheme that could have brought an entire section of the countryside to its knees? Not to mention our little skirmish with the dragon!" Everyone laughs in sympathy but Samuel, who has recognized that my earlier mood was something completely different and possibly worrisome. I frown and shake my head when his questioning eyes meet mine and speak to Rosemary instead. "Perhaps we should stay, and risk the King's wrath?"

"And bring the Royal Cavalry down on our backs during the ceremony?" Lien adds slyly.

"Don't bring more trouble on yourselves. Go on, before you become accustomed to resting," Erian advises us, his smile much kinder. It's a turn-around that doesn't feel terribly awkward; Erian doesn't have anyone to rebel against any longer, and Lien doesn't have someone trying to fit him into a mold that won't allow for any kind of joy at all. Josan and Rosemary are still standing close, talking quietly while I bicker with the brothers and draw some comfort from Samuel's proximity.

"Samuel?" Josan says suddenly. "May I speak with you a moment?"

Rosemary steps closer to take my arm and whisper directly into my ear. "You know that you will be here in our hearts, if not in person. Now, take care of Samuel and of yourself, do you hear?"

"Yes, lady," I whisper back obediently, holding her close again. It is almost as wrenching as leaving home, and a sudden longing for my father, for my forest and a chance to see it all without the anger, sweeps over me. It's an amazing thing to discover, but I'm not angry anymore.

Lien and Erian shake my hand; people from town are coming closer, to see the knight who exposed the false nature of their earlier Lord to the world. Samuel and Rosemary embrace quickly and it is time to leave again, to get a strong start to Court before night falls.

"We'll see each other again!" Erian calls after us with just a hint of innuendo as Alistair prances away, and I'm not surprised to feel Samuel's hand leave the reins and grasp mine tightly.

~~~~

The voice from the shadows is soft and composed. The baron approves of this; it is quite hard to get good help these days, but he's still managed to find the best.

"They have already left the town and are expected here in eight days, if all goes well on their journey."

"Is there any reason it should not?" His voice is just as soft, but unlike that of his spy, there is a hidden bite to it. A set-back at this time could be dealt with, but he would rather not spend the time or effort when there were other things to keep him occupied.

"No, my Lord," the voice murmurs, and the baron smiles to himself. There would be no reason, and if there were, it would be taken care of with a brutal efficiency. He allows himself a moment of self-congratulatory pride for choosing his servants so carefully.

He waves a languid hand and the shadows suddenly become shallower, the solitude of his rooms suddenly honest. It was a shame, really, that Orneden had not worked out, but the effectiveness of his particular role had been waning. The only real obstacle left to his meteoric rise in influence was the queen herself, and the incredible net of power that surrounded her in spite of his best wizards working against it day and night.

The picture of his two guests was still lying innocently on the table, in a thick shaft of sunlight. He would have put it away, but something about it bothered him. a quirk of expression, perhaps, or the slant of a young man's brow-

The baron uttered a startled oath and strode quickly into his library, pulling from the shelves a series of book he'd had no interest in since acquiring the title of baron many months ago, by deceit and by knife. Nevertheless, he thumbed through the pages quickly, looking for the marriage that had produced the late Lady of Wrynne and tracing the line back, back.

"Matrilineal," he whispered, with a dark smile. He would have to speak to the wizards to be sure, but the baron knew in his bones that he had found the link. "A pity you never had the chance to have a daughter, Amilee. It might have gone better for you and for your queen."

~~~~