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Juna put on an evening gown in mauve with threads of gold and red embroidery. The high collar of burnt ivory accentuated her powdered fair skin and black hair. Then she put on a pendant of her own design. Merlana wore a matching mauve jacket and ivory tunic while Sarah chose smoky gray and white for her ensemble and both carried a black cane each. The butler went up to tell his tenant master that the carriage was waiting to carry them to Lord Casperlane’s manor. He knocked, opened the door and gulped in surprise. The three persons in front of him looked surreal, like the finest painting in the land. The beautiful translucent skin of the Lady Drucilla glowed by the light of the candle and her coiffed hair was like a sparkling crown. Around her neck was the most exquisite pendant the butler had ever seen in his life. It was oval, lacquered so black that the groove of the carved frame reflected the light. Painted in the middle with shades of yellow and red, was the sun, its rays curving outward like flames. The two squires were regal in their long curled golden hair, and were wearing rings carved after the same manner as the ornament on the lady’s neck while holding walking sticks of the finest black polish. All his life, he had never had the honour of being in the service of such personages. He bowed and informed them that the carriage had arrived. Merlana drawled as though in afterthought, “Ah yes, I have sent Bryce off to find paintings for me. Ask the housekeeper to prepare the morning room. I will be up early tomorrow to select one for a gift. It is always best to choose under the bright morning light don’t you agree.” “Of course, my lord squire, you get the best because you are wise.” The butler said and led them to the carriage. Bulgarth made his way towards the Faircity Inn, to meet with Frad and Hymae. His boots sounded loud on the stone sidewalk and the crowd gave way to him the moment he lumbered into view. On reaching the end of the street, he turned left. The Inn, a presentable structure with tanned walls and wooden beams, squatted by the side of the road a little way down. He made directly for the tavern and a man behind the bar counter greeted him. That was not his first visit. Hymae waved from a corner. When Bulgarth reached him, he said, “I thought you might not come tonight. Floyd has not returned yet, he must still be trying to finish the painting your master commissioned him.” Bulgarth took a seat as he said, “I hope that the time given him is not wasted. The squire needs to see those paintings tomorrow.” A shadow loomed over them, making them looked up. Frad stood with one hand on his waist, “I have never been accused of wasting anybody’s time. Your master will be pleased with my artwork. That I guarantee.” Hymae said, “You guarantee much my friend. I have yet to see your guarantees come to pass.” Frad laughed good-naturedly as he took a seat between them. The men knew that they were being watched because the day before, an intruder had broken into the rented room. He took nothing but left his boot print behind. The two men, however, had wisely selected occupations they enjoyed for their disguised selves so the spy had seen Frad's two incomplete paintings and Hymae's fresh notes on Sillander. They ordered their dinner. The carriage passed a large wrought iron gate, then clattered down a lane leading to the front of a large white building. Graceful columns supported balconies and shone like gold under the yellow light of the lamps. In front of them, a row of carriages waited their turn and elegant guests alighted from each. A liveried servant in black opened the carriage door for Squire Oswald’s party then they followed the throng obediently into a large foyer. An old servant approached them and inquired their names politely. He showed them into a huge hall with very high ceilings and white walls with murals painted in gold and red. High above their heads, and painted into the ceiling was the sun and moon and creatures of the air. The servant called out, “Squire Oswald of Melpast and the Lady Drucilla, accompanied by Squire Wilfred of Melbyne.” All heads turned to look at the newcomers then the crowd rippled as Casperlane walked towards them with a young teenage girl of thirteen on his arms. She had his grey eyes but they were warm, and her dainty lips was curved into a smile that drew attention to her rosy cheeks. Brown hair hung loose over her shoulders, for she was still too young to have her hair coiffed though Casperlane’s pride and joy was dressed in the same moss green colors as him, to indicate that she was the hostess that night. More bows and curtsies as Casperlane introduced them to his daughter. A young boy of ten ran pass them and the lord reached out his left arm to catch him by the collar. “This here is my son Patrick, he is as dear to me as Graime, although less well-mannered.” Allion approached them, and as usual, was dressed in the grey colours of a money-handler. “Ah, good evening Squires and Lady Drucilla. You look lovely. Your husband will be the envy of many men tonight.” Juna tittered. “You flatter me, Master Allion, far too much I’m afraid.” The old man thought, no, not enough by far. As the hall filled up, an old butler called out, “His Majesties King Posadom and Queen Tilmon. The Royal Highnesses, Prince Kurbadil, Prince Carlmon and Princess Carmen.” A little girl with dark hair and big brown eyes, pulled the King’s sleeves and said, “Papa, he called my name last again.” The guests laughed politely as the father looked down, “That is because you are the youngest and the most precious.” Casperlane led his children forward to greet the royal family and the other guests arranged themselves into a row. Sarah quietly directed her companions into the line. A little later the king and queen walked down the row to greet the guests. On being introduced to Merlana, the king said, “It is good to finally see you in Sillander Squire Oswald. I have long awaited for news from you.” “Yet the news that I bring is not that which you hoped for.” Merlana responded. “Aye, that is so. But at least the question is answered.” Posadom moved to the next guest in the line. At the entrance to the hall, a page whispered into the butler’s ear, and made him fret and leave his post at the door. A moment later his old voice again called out. “His Royal Highness Prince Palmeon accompanied by Lady Hamina and Master Hamlin.” Indrawn breaths from two hundred guests filled the hall for it was against convention for anyone to be announced later than the king. Even if they were late the normal practice was not to call their names out. Casperlane's face flushed and his fist clenched and unclenched as he looked from the king to the prince and back again. The king smiled kindly at the host, for he was used to his younger brother’s improprieties. Palmeon made his way towards his elder brother. His brown hair framed a tanned face with a light beard and even though dressed in lace, he looked fit and strong. Next to him walked Lady Hamina, in a gown of purple and just behind them, Hamlin who looked uncomfortable in his blue jacket. His steps faltered when he saw Juna, and he flushed when she nodded to acknowledge him. Sarah whispered into Merlana’s ear, “Best you act the protective and jealous husband tonight. I fear that he mean harm to our little one.” A dinner gong echoed through the hall. Casperlane led the royal family into a long banquet room with a lower ceiling where the murals of gold and red were more subdued. Plain burgundy tablecloth decorated two rows of long table. The chairs had matching velvet cushions with ivy plants woven in between the openings of the latticed back-support. Squire Oswald and his party were escorted to the second table where Miss Graime sat. Since the passing of her mother, Lady Caroline, the teenager had taken on the roll of hostess for any dinner her father hosted. After the main course was over and while dessert was being served, the king stood up to make an announcement, “I have felt such a great loss, since Baron Kwanbie had gone missing. Yet now someone had brought terrible news for me about him. I fear he may be a traitor.” The guests gasped and the queen turned to face her husband with shocked eyes. The king continued, “In front of all this witnesses now I ask that my brother, Prince Palmeon, release all of the Baron’s documents to me. I will appoint Master Starkin to the investigation. He is a most able man.” Palmeon, who at first was apprehensive over the announcement, smiled because Starkin worked for him. If no such document existed, who was to know if they fabricated one? The prince could almost feel the ownership of the huge estate fall into his hands. “That is indeed terrible news brother. You have my full cooperation. I will tell the servants to let Starkin and his officers into the mansion.” The hush in the dining room smouldered with restrained whispers as the king sat down. Then Posadom said, “Your skill is lacking tonight, my dear Casperlane. This dinner party is turning into a gathering for mourners.” Many laughed with relief on hearing him jest but Palmeon did not grudge his brother the attention that night. They returned to the main hall after dinner where a small band performed in the centre of the hall as the guests mingled. Merlana heeded Sarah’s advice and played the possessive husband which frustrated Hamlin throughout the evening. Sarah smiled to herself from where she could see him. “What is it that Squire Wilfred should find amusing I wonder?” A young lady in a velvet yellow dress coyly gazed at Sarah. “I am Helen, daughter to Lord Borland. You may take my hand.” Sarah’s eyes twinkled in amusement at the arrogance in her manner as she kissed the hand offered to her. “I am honored that a lady as fine as yourself should remember me.” Helen blushed and took her hand away abruptly, “But of course. The servant shouted your name loud enough to wake up the dead.” She continued, “So tell me, where is this Melbyne. I have never heard of it.” Sarah said, “You are right, my lady. Melbyne does not exist.” “Then who are you really?” “I am Squire Wilfred, you will have to know me more to earn the knowledge of my true origin.” The young woman looked up, covered half of her face with a lacy fan and coyly commented, “A vagabond if I ever see one.” Then she turned and walked away. Sarah was never left alone for long, for many amongst the guests were enamored with this squire who was polite and patient in demeanor and learned in speech and manner. Surely he could not be just any squire from an out of way place that no one had ever heard of. Most probably he was one of the lords from the east who was impersonating as a-nobody. Look at him, he wore no jewelry, yet his clothes and his walking stick betrayed him. Then there was the unusual beauty of the Lady Drucilla and her husband who shone like the sun. His tanned skin bespoke of him as a man who live in leisure and sports. Everyone was curious about them, but nobody dared ask for they heard rumours that Casperlane had personally invited them. Even though they sat at the second table, some noted that they were sitting directly in line with the host and that Casperlane would glanced their way often to ensure that all was well at their table. Imagination ran wild, mothers and fathers with daughters of marriageable age began eyeing Squire Wilfred with interest. Squire Oswald received a few questions on his friend’s availability, which amused him greatly. Juna had wanted to talk with Hamlin again, but Merlana thought it too risky. She was usually tolerant of whatever Juna wanted to do, but not that night. Yet as Merlana talked with an old man from the law implementers office, Juna excused herself and walked off before her friend could say anything. She made her way to the terrace, pretending to seek fresh air. A moment later a shadow appeared next to her, followed by Hamlin. “It is a good evening tonight, my lady.” “Yes, it is indeed. You were escorting Prince Palmeon.” “Ah, well, he invited us.” Hamlin squared his shoulder. “You have concluded your business then.” “Not quite, but the King’s announcement tonight may speed matter up a bit.” “I don’t understand how may it affect you? It concerns Baron Kwanbie does it not?” “Well, the thing is, my mother is trying to get me to become the Lord of Hallskein in Monqui. But only three men in the kingdom may name me as such, the King, the High Law Implementer or the Office Elector, the position which was held by Baron Kwanbie and which had been vacant all this years. Prince Palmeon is now only acting in his place, hence he has no right to appoint anyone to any office.” “That is strange, I thought that the present Lord of Hallskein is still alive.” “My half-brother, I am afraid is dying.” Again Juna's interest was perked because that was the second time he mentioned his family ties to her. The thud of heavy soles rung on the terrace and they turned to see the newcomer. Merlana was livid, a very proper expression for a jealous husband. Juna had totally ignored her warning and exposed herself to danger. Squire Oswald turned a haughty face to Hamlin, “Well, well. Good evening MASTER Hamlin. My love,” she said abruptly, “is anything amiss. If you needed fresh air, you should have told me and need not trouble Master Hamlin to keep you company.” “It was no trouble at all.” Hamlin retorted, offended that the squire had stressed his lack of title in front of Juna. Juna sighed, she hoped that the information she obtained would pacify her friend’s temper. She stepped towards Merlana, who gave her an arm. Then without another word, not even a polite adieu, her pretend husband led her back into the hall. The rest of the evening passed by uneventfully because Merlana kept a tight grip on Juna’s arm, which made some guests comment that Squire Oswald needed to learn to control his feelings in public. At the end of the evening, after the royal family had left, guests began to line up to say their good nights to the host. A servant called out names at the bottom of the front door steps and the carriage appended to that name came forward. Brock saw his squires from far and made his way to the front. A servant lowered the steps and held the door open for his charges. Merlana waited for the carriage to drive pass the gate before speaking. “Why did you disobey me? Don’t you know how dangerous Hamlin is?” “Yes, I do know, but it was safe on the terrace, if he even so much as try to touch my hand, I would have screamed.” Merlana glowered at her in the dark, but Juna continued unperturbed, “Anyway I found out a few things that may interest all of you.” She told them everything that Hamlin divulged, including Hastire’s illness and the second mention of them being stepbrothers. The coachman wondered over their sombre mood, for the remainder of the ride back to Upper Dayles was quiet. The butler had waited up for them and shone a lamp at the top of the steps. Like Brock, he also felt that something was amiss. He suggested a nightcap in the drawing room, hoping to be allowed to serve and to eavesdrop. They did not humour him, however, instead they went directly up to their quarters. Merlana felt a presence in her room the moment she stepped in. A shape appeared in the dim moonlight. It was Bulgarth. "Is all well?" he asked. "Aye, all is well. Except that my dear wife here disobeyed me and placed herself in danger." Juna lost her temper. "If I had listened to you, we would not have found out what we now know," she retorted in a hushed voice. "Hamlin talked and told me that his mother is planning to recommend him as the new lord of Hallskein. She is now trying to help Prince Palmeon become the High Office Elector." A soft knock fell on the door, Merlana went to open it. Sarah stood outside, "I could hear hushed whispers in the corridor. The doors and walls here seem to be built for eavesdropping." Bulgarth nodded, "We have been careless. We should have realized by now that it is more than treasures they steal in this house. We will continue this conversation in the park tomorrow. Allion sent a not to the inn tonight and informed me that he will meet us at the usual time. Frad will be over early tomorrow morning." Bulgarth climbed out the darkest window that was shaded by a large maple tree. Sarah said her good night from the door and added, "Don't forget cousin, the artist will be here tomorrow, early, since you insist on seeing his work in the first morning light. Bryce met with him and said that the painting is ready for your approval. Enough with your squabbling, you should not be blaming Drucilla for all the looks she gets from other men." The butler, who was just below the stairs heard every word she said. Ah, so Squire Oswald is angry with his wife. No wonder they were quiet on their return and turned down the suggestion of a nightcap in the drawing room. He wondered if Braduin would be interested in knowing about the possessive nature of his tenant. Most probably he would, the butler decided. Sarah tossed and turned restlessly in bed. She had not seen Frad for five days and her mind was busy with plans about what to say and what to wear. When the first footfall fell on the sidewalk, she got up and looked out. It was the street cleaner with his broom and dust pan. Sarah took special care in selecting her jacket that morning, and decided to wear grey to complement her pale eyes. Sarah felt jittery and jumped when she heard a bedroom door opened. The same door closed and voices floated down the stairs. She took another look in the mirror before stepping out of her room. She was startled when Bulgarth appeared next to her. “Are you alright squire? Did you sleep well?” his face etched with worry. “Oh, yes. I’m alright Bryce. Thank you for your concern.” She gave him a nervous smile and ran a hand over her perfect hair. Anxiously she closed the door behind her and walked towards the staircase. Sarah took her seat at the breakfast table, though she could barely eat her breakfast. Soon they heard the clang of the door bell and the butler's footsteps making his way to the front door, apparently expecting the early guest. Sarah fidgeted and her two friends smiled behind their hands. Frad was shown into the breakfast room. He had a large covered painting under his left arm and Sarah saw that the roots of his hair were starting to show the original gold as he bowed to them in greeting. He looked tired and appeared to have lost some weight. For the benefit of the butler, Frad said, “Good morning Squire Oswald. It is an honor to meet with you again.” Merlana answered, “I am glad to see you well my dear Floyd. I hear from Bryce that you have completed the painting I commissioned you.” “Yes, squire. It is done.” He opened the covering over his painting, stepped towards the terrace and leaned the painting against the balustrade. Merlana twisted around to gaze at the artwork. The butler stared. He had seen many artwork of the royal palace before but never one such as that. The building was painted under bright sunlight on one side while the other half was covered in darkness. The different shades of light and shadow dancing on the stoic walls brought the structure to life. Squire Oswald studied it with a critical eye. “This is the finest painting you have ever done Floyd. I hope it will please his majesty.” “I am honoured to have my work presented as a gift to the king.” The butler stopped breathing. A gift for the king, then the squire was not in Sillander for the social season, there must be an ulterior motive behind his visit. Oh yes, Braduin must know about this. The painting was magnificent. The butler had only seen such fine work once before, at an exhibition by Frederick of Laurenx. Yet as they say in that land, a star that rose too fast and too hot will soon die out. That was exactly what happened to the young artist. His light shone too brightly and he burned himself with greed. He was accused of trying to poison the queen with one of his paintings, which was an image her palace home in Kalimy which was a gift from Prince Palmeon for the birthing of her twins. She had treasured the artwork and placed it above her bed. Many who attended to the sick queen at that time fell ill. For three days, nobody knew what was wrong, until the physician, who was old and almost blind, had put his face right in front of the painting and recognized the smell of the poison. Prince Palmeon claimed innocence, insisting that he passed the art to his beloved sister-in-law the moment he received it. The news got to the angry public and they stormed the artist’s studio and burned him in it. Squire Wilfred cleared his throat, “How did you manage to paint the two different times of day on the same canvas?” “The cliff next to the lighthouse commands a wonderful view of the palace. I was there night and day. Some of the details of the building was designed out of my own imaginings though, since I was never close enough to study it properly.” Sarah now understood why he looked so haggard and tanned. She wished that she had been there with him, watching him as he painted. She now turned her eyes to the painting, though the longing remained evident in her eyes. Frad turned to face her and became mesmerized with her face. He felt a pang that he could not understand in his heart for he saw something upon Sarah's face a vision that no skill in the world could put down on canvas. Juna gave Merlana a nudged and the other grunted. “Wilfred, take Floyd to the study. You will find the money I owe him in the top drawers.” The butler thought that Squire Wilfred got up from his seat a little too eagerly as he led Floyd to the study. Squire Oswald held onto the painting, admiring it in the sunlight. Lady Drucilla whispered something to him and he gave her a quiet laugh in return. So, the couple was back to their normal loving selves again, the butler thought. In the study, the atmosphere was a lot less comfortable. Sarah felt flustered and jumped when the study door closed behind her. She turned to Frad and unconsciously tidied her hair. Frad came to stand next to the table. “How have you been keeping up?” The voice that came out of his mouth was hoarse so he coughed to clear his throat. Sarah was elated to hear him ask about her specifically, instead of the usual ‘all of you’. “I am well, but you look tired.” “I have not been sleeping much. I am so used to hearing your voice in the night before being lulled to sleep...,” he stammered, then stopped in mid-sentence. He wondered about what he was trying to say in the first place, then wondered why it all sounded so wrong when the words came out of his mouth. Sarah found it impossible to look into his face. She opened the top drawer and took out two purses. “These are for both you and Hymae.” She held out her hand, Frad reached out but instead of taking the money, he placed his hand under hers, cupping it. Sarah turned her palm, dropped the purses into his hand and her fingers lingered over his palm before she pulled them away. Then she said something that made him break into a smile. “I missed your company too.” As quick as she said it, she walked out of the study and returned to the drawing room. The butler noticed Squire Wilfred’s stern red face and the amazingly happy smile of the artist Floyd. It had been remarked by the servants that Oswald tend to be extravagant, while Wilfred was stringent. After Frad took his leave, Squire Oswald expounded on the virtues and beauty of the painting to his cousin, most probably to pacify him on the expensive purchase. Lady Drucilla appear to enjoy Wilfred’s discomfort. Oswald said, “Come, come now cousin Wilfred. Surely you must agree that this is the most magnificent of all his work. Did he tell you why he used such melancholy colors instead of his usual bright patches?” “We did not speak on such matters?” Oswald looked surprised, “You did not inquire? You should have made better use of the time you spent with him. What say you my Drucilla.” Drucilla leaned forward prettily, “You are right dear husband. Cousin Wilfred should pick up painting. Floyd is the perfect tutor for him.” The butler returned to his room to write a note to Braduin on the matter of the gift. After breakfast the tenants went down on foot to the shopping street, which intersected with the street of Upper Dayles. Bulgarth followed them into every silly shop imaginable and watched Merlana buy trinkets and sweets for herself and her two friends. After coming out of the tenth shop, most probably, his sister spotted a familiar face in a bookshop they were about to pass. The shop proprietor's jaw dropped when he saw the elegant group walked into his dusty and cramp establishment. The bent old man quickly approached them but Merlana waved him away and strode directly to one of the two customers in the bookshop. The dark haired and bearded man looked up on hearing the commotion. He smiled and spoke, "Well Squire Oswald. I am please to meet with you here." "Hello Haim. I have need of a secretary at this time and am wondering if you would be interested in earning a little as you tour the country." "I am honored. I do plan to stay in Sillander for another week before resuming my tour." "Where are you staying now?" "Close by here, at the Faicity Inn, it is only down the road." "Ah wonderful. It is within walking distance to the townhouse I rent." She passed a card to Hymae. "Come to this address tonight. You know what documents I need prepared." Hymae bowed deferentially. Sarah and Juna browsed over the books and selected two that caught their interest. The flustered proprietor bowed at them repeatedly as he wrapped their purchases. When they stepped out of the dingy shop Drucilla declared that the street was far too busy and hot for her so they returned to the townhouse for lunch. Thereafter a short nap awaited them before a stroll in the park. When the day had fashionably cooled, they left the townhouse for the park. Allion was ahead of them, speaking with an old couple. The four walked nonchalantly down the path towards him then they saw Helen nodding towards them. Bulgarth leaned forward and said, “Sarah, you must go to her before she comes to us with her father in tow.” Lord Borland’s face broke into a big smile on seeing Squire Wilfred of Melbyne making his way towards them, for he appeared very eager to meet with his Helen. Juna sat down on a bench along the path. She patted the seat next to her when Allion stopped to greet them. He took her offer gratefully. “These old bones are no longer what they used to be although my mind grows more reliable with age.” Allion felt the warm eyes on his face and smiled back in return. Poor children, how would they take Talkent’s death he wondered, “I have some news to bring at least. Lord Casperlane found what he believed is the chest you spoke of. Your father was a very wise man, to have made such a simple uncomely thing. None of Starkin’s men took notice of it. The Baron’s other chests and boxes contained documents of such value that it dazzled their eyes.” The old man chuckled. Bulgarth inquired, “Then he has opened it.” “No, I am afraid not. They thought of breaking it, but it is made of tougher material than wood. We will need your key.” “I can slip out tonight and go to his mansion.” “That will not be necessary. You see that house?” The old man pointed at another townhouse three doors away from theirs. “Climb through the back. A guard will be waiting for you. When you meet him, say Talkent, Bryne and Allion. He will let you pass.” Merlana inquired, “Is it wise to use the name of your establishment?” The old man had a twinkle in his eye when he answered, “No thief or spy will think of using that name. I also needed something that will not slip your brother’s memory. Casperlane’s men are quite adept at using the blade I am afraid.” In a sadder note, the old man continued, “Tomorrow, it will only be Bryne and Allion.” Merlana asked, “Has Talkent resigned?” “No, he died in his sleep two nights ago. Old age finally overtook him.” Bulgarth inquired, “But is it not the ways of money-handlers to pass down the business to their children. I believe Talkent has a son, does he not?” “Yes, indeed he does. But he did not wish for his son to take after him. The man had been properly reimbursed by us who still remain.” Allion let the explanation stand for itself. Talkent’s son was close to Hamlin and the old man did not want the trust of his customers to be abused, nor their financial secrets revealed. He was a conscientious money handler to the end. Merlana felt tears stinging her eyes. Talkent was the closest thing to a grandfather she ever had. She turned to look towards Sarah, “I fear that our friend is in great distress. Should we help her?” Helen was hanging onto Sarah’s arm and pouting so saucily into her face that a real man would have quacked. Allion turned to follow her gaze, “Well it is best I make my way and leave you to your rescue. You will have to go before Helen there makes your friend promise to marry her.” The old man laughed at his own joke, then he got up and bowed to them. They responded in kind but with less stiffness and they watched him continue his stroll down the path before strolling to Sarah’s side.
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