Suddenly, the Great Hall erupted into a flurry of activity. Tables were pushed to the sides of the hall as servants made room for Ashlynn and Owainâs historic duel. The rushes on the floor were swept aside, along with the ashes and bones of the late Abbot Recared.
Only a few hasty words from one of the captive Inquisitors prevented the abbotâs remains from being tossed out with the rubbish, and even then, Sir Beathan refused to let the Inquisition hang on to the ashes or the charred and blackened bones.
"I wonât see him entombed to be revered," Beathan said as he accepted a coarse, cloth sack filled with what little remained of Recared. "Her Dominion can decide what should be done with him when this is over."
Beathan knew better than to disturb Ashlynn now over something so trivial, but he remembered her words about making an example of Recared. Whether she wanted to mount his skull as a warning about the price of corruption or his ashes poured into the River Luath, flowing east and away from the Heavenly Shores, heâd see it done. For now, however, she had more important matters to attend to.
The Great Hall had begun to divide itself into two distinct camps. On one side, clustered around the Blackwell retinue, were the baronies of Dunn, Fayle, and Iriso, along with Hugo Hanrahan as the sole representative of his home. They were the people who had pledged themselves to Lady Ashlynnâs cause, drawn swords tonight to stand with her, and for some of them, the people who had fought their way to the Great Hall to bring Owain Lothian to justice.
The opposite side of the hall held a different gathering entirely, one far less unified in its purpose as they milled uncomfortably at the side.
"I said ânoâ, Peigi," Baron Tybal Aleese said sharply. He wasnât shouting at her, but he wasnât speaking quietly either, and several of the lords and ladies nearby perked up their ears as they tried to determine where the southern lordâs sentiments lay.
"I wonât have us standing with a man like Lord Owain," Peigi countered. "Not after..."
"Iâm not standing with Lord Owain," Tybal said, holding up a hand before she could continue. "Thatâs not why Iâm here instead of over there, with Loghlan," he said, pointing at the oldest of the barons standing on Ashlynnâs side.
"Iâm over here because I donât know what fighting for Lady Ashlynn means after tonight," Tybal explained as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If it werenât for Rainâs foolishness, we might know her plans by now. I doubt Loghlan threw his support behind her just out of an overdeveloped sense of justice," he pointed out. "For his son to act as her herald, arrangements must have been made..."
"So youâre waiting for a chance to make arrangements with her?" Peigi fumed.
"Iâm waiting until I understand the road ahead," Tybal countered. "If it had come to a vote, Iâd have voted against Lord Owain. But tonightâs judgment and tomorrowâs arrangements are separate things, and I expect that Lady Ashlynn understands that."
"Perhaps," Peigi said with a heavy sigh. "But did you ever think that you should explain that to your son?" Peigi asked, pointing to Reynoldâs figure as her eldest child strode across the Great Hall to join with Erling Fayle and Wes Iriso.
"Are you sure you should be here, Reynold?" Wes asked as the young Aleese lord approached him. "Your father doesnât look too happy to see you here."
"My fatherâs world is too complicated for me," Reynold said, shaking his head as he found a place to stand with the two men who had become unexpected friends during Owainâs hunt for the feast that would certainly go to waste after everything that had happened tonight.
"Iâm sure that Father is thinking about what the King will have to say about all of this, or the Saint in the Holy City," Reynold said. "Heâs thinking about his plans for the Holy War and if this changes anything or if its no different from switching out the lead horse on a carriage... He wonders if the Church is still driving everything or if something else will change."
"I wonder about those things too," Wes said. "Iâm sure Erling does too."
"No, I donât," Erling said, drawing surprised looks from both of the other men. "Lady Ashlynn only just arrived in the march. Her first visit was less than three years ago."
"So?" Reynold asked, not understanding the other manâs point. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"So, I donât wonder what the King will do, or the Saint," Erling said as though it were somehow the most logical conclusion to arrive at. "Neither the King nor the Saint has ever made a decision thatâs affected me personally in a way it didnât affect every other baron of the frontier, so I donât really worry too much about what they think... I donât think they spend much time considering us at all.
"Instead, I wonder who sent the messengers," Erling said, furrowing his brow in thought. "And if Lady Ashlynn is their ally, their newest ruler, or if sheâs another message."
"I... I donât understand," Reynold admitted.
"Itâs fine," Erling sighed as he turned his gaze to Lady Ashlynn. "I donât understand it either. Understanding wasnât part of the deal. I just... I just hope that, whatever happens after this, I can at least hang on to what I have and protect the people of Fayle. If I can do that, then the rest doesnât really matter."
"I suppose not," Wes said. "One thingâs for certain. Whatever happens next, none of us is going to sleep much tonight."
"Do you think Lady Ashlynn really has a chance against Lord Owain?" Reynold asked as he watched the lady from Blackwell crossing the floor toward his sister and the flame-haired knight. "In a duel to the death?"
"She struck down the Abbot with a Holy Flame Blade," Wes said with a shrug. "And High Priest Aubin called her a Saintess. If the Holy Lord of Light truly influences a righteous trial by combat, would you want to stand against her?"
"I donât think Iâm pious enough to put my faith behind that âifâ," Reyonld said flatly. Heâd never been an overly pious individual before, and he was even less so after hearing how the Inquisition had acted across the march under Recaredâs orders. "So, if itâs all down to skill with a sword... Then I donât know why Lady Ashlynn would ever take this challenge."
"Because Lord Owain is almost sure to win."