“Applefire?” Warna asked.
“A liquor, lady, and highly prized,” Ersal smiled at the memory. “There’s only one brewer that makes it, and they only put up one pressing a year, and then it’s set aside to age. It’s said that they’ve only twelve trees that bear the right kind of apples. There’s magic in the making of it, or so they say.”
“And Lord Verice orders his stock opened, and a sip for all. And Betnan, who had charge of the buttery says ‘Surely, you mean the noble folk alone, m’lord.’ And Lord Verice, he says ‘For any and all within my halls this night, Betnan.’” Ersal shook his head. “Betnan looked so miserable, opening those bottles,” He chuckled but then the laughter faded from his face. “May the Lord and Lady keep his soul.”
“Lord Verice opened his cellars in honor of Bard Charrin and his Lady Summer, who had come to hold Festival with the Lord,” Janella picked up the tale. “It was such a lovely Festival up to that point. If I could just somehow keep that moment in my mind and preserve it, not remember the screams, not see—” She put her head down into her hands and wept.
Ersal moved over, and put an arm around her shoulder. “Charrin had just finished his last song. The room was stirring, there was applause, and then the Usurper—”
“Regent,” Dominic corrected.
Ersal’s face darkened. “The bastard sent—”
“The Regent denies it, and we’ve no proof,” Dominic said. “She has asked you for facts, not speculation.”
“Fine,” Ersal spat. “A messenger, named Daress, stepped forward. He was a human, sent by the Regent of Palins with messages for Lord Verice. He’d arrived that morning with an entourage, and Lord Verice had invited him to the Festival, saying that the business could wait until the morrow. Daress pressed him, but his lordship would have none of it.”
“We all knew that most likely he’d brought demands from the Regent, insisting that Verice attend one of the High Baron Councils in Edenrich,” Janella explained.
“He is the Lord High Baron Verice’s liege,” Dominic said.
“The Seneschal announced him, and they stood before the high table, just to the right of Charrin and Summer. Lord Verice acknowledged him, welcomed him,” Ersal said. “Daress had this smile on his face,” He took a breath. “I remember thinking that he looked like a child with a terrible secret.”
Ersal was tense, rigid, his eyes fixed on the wall behind her. Warna listened as he spoke in a flat tone, as if he dare not let any emotion into his story.
“Daress said something,” Ersal continued. “I didn’t catch the words. Then he gave a crackling shout of laughter. It must have been a signal. Because he turned and attacked Charrin.”
Ersal closed his eyes. “The blade glittered as he swung. I suspect he was aiming at Charrin’s throat, but he caught his eyes instead.” He choked up, unable to continue.
Janella picked up the tale. “Charrin screamed. Summer moved, put herself between Charrin and Daress, so the blade plunged deep within her, not him.”
“Lord Verice launched himself over the table at Daress, he’d an eating knife in each hand,” Ersal said. “The other four with Daress all pulled out their knives, and they all went for our Lord. But that’s when—” he gulped.
“When the screams started from all around us, and from the balconies above.” A thick-waisted man in the back spoke up. Warna frowned, trying to remember his name. Roath, that was it.
Roath continued, “Armed warriors appeared within the keep, attacking unarmed celebrants.”
“Lord Verice was holding his own, and many of the noble lords sprang to his side. The Seneschal, his aide, they grabbed up whatever they could as weapons,” Ersal said. “Betnan grabbed up a bottle and shattered it on the table, wielding the jagged shard…”
“They cut through us like wolves among lambs,” he said, rubbing his thigh. “And just as quick. The guards and the mages, they reacted, but it had all been planned by that bastard Daress. They aimed to maim, you see, as much as kill.”
“In the end, we took them all down to the last. But not before Lord Verice was fallen, blood spurting from his thigh.”
“We got to him in time,” Dominic said. “But it was a close thing. We got the bleeding stopped, then littered him out to the courtyard. No further - we feared he’d start to bleed if we took him too far. Captain Narthing ordered the keep evacuated, fearing there were others hiding within.”
“What of Charrin?” Warna asked.
“Oh, that was a horror, lady,” Janella whispered. “He’d gathered poor Summer in his arms, and he was keening there in the Great Hall. We couldn’t get him to move for the longest time, and he wouldn’t let us take her body. We had to carry them both out.”
“There was nothing you could do?” Warna asked Dominic.
“She was dead when we arrived,” Dominic said. “I’d more wounded and dying than healers. Charrin’s wounds were not life threatening. Lord Verice was our first concern.”
Ricard stirred. “As soon as we heard the alarms, we ran up from the town, through the gates and started dealing with the attackers. Narthing led the search, and I organized the courtyard.”
“Narthing came out, grim, his sword still out. They’d combed the keep and brought out the bodies. He was standing on the stairs…”
“Lord Verice regained consciousness,” Dominic said.
