Dealing with the aftermath at the barony turns out to take more time than those involved would have liked. In the end, the group sent word to Lord December that the daughter of Baron Adalric would be in charge and the former Baron was under house arrest on charges of treason. Even Thomas, much to his dismay, found himself having to write a formal report for the Crown as well as the archives on the event that transpired. The phase 'I HATE PAPERWORK!' is a common echo through the halls for the better part of a day.
At long last the strange group finally manages to get underway. The duo is now a trio, as Redmane's new 'squire' is in attendance. He's acting both as a mule in that he's now stuck carrying most of Redmane's supplies as well as also being charged with carrying the remains of Bravil to be interred in their final destination, Abnehmenvolf.
Several days pass as the group make their way through the wilderness. Einsam, for his part, remains mostly silent throughout the trip. When requests are made of him, he usually grunts in reply or nods. Of course this does tend to lead to commentary to Redmane from Thomas about the lack of training in her 'pet'. But all in all, the teasing is kept to a minimum. Bravil only makes an appearance for a few minutes at night during the trip, but in those spare moments, old friends discuss fond memories and share a few laughs. Sometimes it's almost as if Bravil was still with the living; but it never lasts. A fey's soul is tenuously bound once his physical form as gone and when pressed, even Bravil will admit to feeling the call of some unknown land that waits for him.
Towards the close of the third day on the road with the sun setting and casting the landscape in fading reds and long shadows amongst the trees, their destination is finally at hand.
Thomas whistles long and low. "Wow, it has changed considerably since we were last here," he admits, "I never expected it to look this prosperous. This is incredible."
"Mmm," grunts Einsam, "I suppose it can be considered beautiful. It is a shame most of the people are not."
"It's amazing!" Redmane gasps, her face lighting up as she takes in the city. "It was a ruin last time. I wonder what the ratio of fey to wolf is now?"
"I have no idea," Thomas comments as he shifts the pack on his shoulder. "So, do you want to sneak in quietly and wait till morning to announce ourselves? Or ... do it now?"
"Last I was here it was nearly an even split between fey and wolf," Einsam notes, "There has been effort to try and keep the lines ... evenly mixed, I suppose you could say."
"Announce ourselves?" Redmane asks, having never even thought of that. "Well.. I suppose we can wait until morning. Think the city has an inn?" She scans around for signs of tourist activity (that is, stalls selling souvenirs).
No obvious stalls of knickknacks can be seen, but there is the rather ubiquitous sign of a bed that probably indicates an inn near the main gate. It's one of the few three story buildings.
"We also need to find the cemetery where your matronly ancestor is buried, Einsam," Redmane notes to her new squire.
"Tonight?" Einsam asks.
As the group draws closer, two guards can be seen flanking the gates. One is a few in armor, the other a wolf (big surprise.).
"Well, Bravil's request is our primary goal," Redmane notes. "We'll need to get someone to perform the internment ritual though. That might have to wait until we meet the elders."
"So, most likely the morning as well," Thomas comments. "You want to greet the guards or shall I handle it?"
"Be my guest," Redmane says, sketching a bow to Thomas. "Just try not to get the gate slammed on us, okay?"
"Hey, it's me, what could go wrong?" Thomas asks with one of those grins that somehow spells doom. He waggles his brow and approaches the guards, leaving Redmane alone with her 'squire'.
"Neither you or him are quite what I imagined," Einsam comments.
"What did you imagine?" Redmane asks.
"Something more ... grand, for lack of a better term. And well, less real," Einsam says with a shrug. "Stories paint both of you as far larger than life. Grand figures of epic adventure and always in control of every situation. But after the past few days, well ... you seem more real. More possible. Imperfect and yet still inspiring."
"That's what makes us inspiring," Redmane points out. "You can't be inspired by someone you can't possibly relate to, after all. And I can be grand and larger than life when I'm in my armor, and riding Ahearn. As a Countess.. well, I'm surrounded by women who look like flowers and tsk disapprovingly at half the stuff I do."
"That sounds ... tiring. Please tell me I do not have to dress like a flower," Einsam says. The scary part is, he actually looks worried.
"No, you won't," Redmane promises. "Squires study letters, etiquette, horsemanship and combat. Everything a knight must know. I never got to be a squire, myself. Before becoming part of House May, I was a 'sparrow' knight - a knight with no master who travles to smaller villages solving disputes and routing bandits and monsters."
"A mercenary, in simpler terms," Einsam states. The wolfish fey shrugs again. "Sounds simpler than what is being asked of me, truth be told."
"Hey, I was not a mercenary," Redmane claims, pointing her finger at Einsam's nose. "I was a Champion of Cerridwen, Knighted by the Goddess herself. I had a Quest and a Geas and all that stuff! And before that I was a bigger monster than any werewolf."
"You are proud of having been a monster?" Einsam asks as he stares at the tip of Redmane's finger.
"I'm proud of not being one anymore," Redmane notes. "I'm proud of never succumbing to those urges. It's something you're going to learn yourself, because a knight has to keep a clear head."
"There is nothing wrong with following my instincts," Einsam claims, "I am not a monster."
"You don't fight with instinct. You'll lose if you do. A knight must be able to gauge his opponent's strength and act accordingly. Losing one's temper and rushing into battle only benefits one's enemy."
"Hmph," Einsam says and crosses his arms, "You seem to have little faith in me. Or is it you have little faith in others, such as your friend?" He nods towards Thomas, who seems to be in deep conversation with the two guards. The fey is laughing, so at least they seem to be on good terms.
"I have plenty of faith in Thomas, but he isn't a knight," Redmane points out. "Thomas shuns respectability. Knights require it."
"If he stands for everything that a knight isn't, why do you associate with him? He seems as one who never has a care or concern in the world," Einsam notes.
"You don't know him like I do. Trust me, few men have more cares or concerns than Lord Thomas," Redmane claims. "And he has taught me the value of teasing. I'm going to be using that in your training."
"Delightful," Einsam mutters. "So, is his behavior an act? Does 'honor' hide beneath is motions and words? What motivates him?"
"If I told you, that would spoil the mystery!" Redmane says with a laugh. "Here's something else to think on, Einsam: you may use instinct to your advantage in many situations, but you must never depend solely upon it. Remember that is the same instinct that men exploited to turn wolves into dogs."
"Speaking of dogs, I'm afraid you have to sleep outside, Red," Thomas quips from behind Redmane and grinning ear to ear. "So, here's the situation, the elders have already retired for the evening, so we are to head to the inn; they have plenty of vacancy tonight. We can meet with them in the morning, right after the waning howl."
"Ah, so there is an inn!" Redmane says, rubbing her hands together.
"I doubt it is as nice as the last one," Thomas points out.
The Countess-Knight raises her arm and points forward, saying, "Lead on, MacDuff! So long as the furs don't have fleas I will survive!"
"I ... I will be going home tonight. It has been some time since I saw family," Einsam says. "I will see your belongings to your rooms first, of course."
"I think your fruit fermented," Thomas comments at Redmane's strange display. He shakes his head and waves for them to follow. Soon enough they're through the gate (after a cordial and respectful greeting by the guards), and heading down the street. "It feels strange to be here," Thomas admits.
"You mean, to walk in on your own two feet instead of being dragged by wolves and thrown into a cell?" Redmane asks with a big grin.
"Something like that, yes," Thomas agrees. "Though walking about it on four feet wasn't so bad."
"Well, minus the iron collar and painful change," he adds.
"It's much cleaner now too," Redmane says. "They must have an army of fey street cleaners.."
"One room or two?" Thomas asks as the reach the door to the aforementioned Inn. It's a three story building carved of granite. The windows glow brightly from the warm fires that burn in the fireplaces inside.
"You two would share a room?" Einsam asks.
"Depends on how big the rooms are," Redmane notes. "A squire is supposed to sleep with his knight you know. But then, you probably have a family home here too, don't you Einsam?"
"Yes, I said a bit ago I would be going to see them tonight," Einsam notes.
"Well, in that case we probably only need one room," Redmane says. "I don't expect Bravil's ghost to join us. He'd be more interested in his descendants."
"Right. I can sleep on the floor anyway," Thomas agrees and pushes the door open. The inside is spartan, but welcoming. A small desk is in the corner, near the fireplace. An elderly woman minds it. She looks up from her knitting and waves to the travelers. "Welcome to the Harvest Moon," she says cheerily. "Haven't seen many travelers as of late. Will you be staying long or simply passing through?" She looks as if she's going to say more, but halts when her eyes meet with Einsam's.
"I have no idea how long we'll be needing the room," Redmane admits, and looks to Thomas. "On the floor? Do you want a separate room, or just want to get some practice in?"
"People might talk if we share a bed," Thomas mutters. He coughs, then addresses the woman, "We will be here for at leas three days, perhaps longer."
"Fine. Two rooms then," Redmane notes, and looks between the woman and Einsam. "Something wrong with my squire, ma'am?" she asks the innkeeper.
"No, no, I had better keep an eye on you," Thomas comments, "One room."
"No, it is just that he said he would not return," the Innkeeper notes. "Welcome home, Einsam. "It is good to see you."
Einsam grunts a half-reply to the woman and waves.
"Oh, your family runs the inn?" Redmane asks Einsam, her eyebrows arched in surprise.
"No, just a friend of the family," Einsam notes.
"Your mother has never stopped worrying about you or praying for your return," the Innkeeper says and waves a knitting needle at him. "You should feel ashamed for causing her such worry!"
"Know any embarrassing stories from Einsam's childhood, by any chance?" Redmane asks the woman, and then frowns at Einsam for making his mother worry.
"Oh, plenty," the elderly woman says, "But now is not the time for them, I'm sure that he should be going home to visit. You can have room twenty-one. Second floor, first room on the right."
"I guess we'll see you in the morning then, Einsam," Redmane notes, and pats her squire on the arm. "I'll take our stuff up. You just take Bravil home."
Einsam sets down the packs and just nods at that. "I will see you at the waning howl, then," he says before departing.
"They're so rebellious at that age," Redmane comments to the woman. "At least.. I think they are. Are they? I'm not entirely sure how old he is.."
"He sure grew into a handsome one," the innkeeper notes, "He'll break the hearts of many ladies. As for how old? Well, dearie, he can't be much older than you. A Year or so, if I'm guessing correctly."
Thomas snorts. Loudly.
"My companion seems to have swallowed a bug," Redmane comments, and picks up the packs. "Let's get our stuff into the room, and then we can see the sights!"
"Sights? I thought we would get some sleep," Thomas complains. Grumbling, up the stairs he goes!
"But I'm sure this place is lively at night," Redmane notes, following Thomas.
"You want to go out and mingle with the canines?" Thomas asks as he turns the corner on the stairs, then opens the second floor door. Soon enough he's at the door to the room and he's unlocking it.
"Well, there are fey too," Redmane notes. "I'm curious to see how they interact for recreation," she says. "There could be entirely new kinds of sports or dancing or singing or who knows what. Even werewolf burlesque!"
Thomas rests his head on the frame of the door and laughs. "For as much as you complained about being around those driven by instinct, you sure seem to want to indulge in it now," he teases as he opens the door to their room and enters.
"I'm being practical," the woman says as she lugs the packs. "After tomorrow, everyone will know who we are. This is our only night of anonymity."
The room itself is rather nice, truth be told. It's clean and warm. The stone floor, in fact seems to radiate heat. Perhaps warm water piping runs through it. There's a 'king' sized canopy bed against one wall covered in piles of pillows and fluffy blankets, a well-carved and stained cabinet for clothing, a marble bath tub, and even a cheery fireplace that's crackling invitingly.
"So you want us to go in disguise tonight and sample the town? What will we do if the places require proper attire like, oh, collars?" Thomas teases as he goes to the cabinet and starts hanging up his travel clothes to air out.
As usual, Redmane immediately flops onto the bed to test it out. "Ahhah! And it's nice and big. Collars? I didn't notice any on the people we passed.." she notes. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with just having a romantic walk, is there? What could possibly happen?"
"Orrrr, we could stay in and order room service," she suggests. "Maybe they have whipped cream." Redmane waggles her eyebrows at Thomas with that.
Thomas snorts. "Miurenn, it's us. Do we ever have a simple night where something doesn't happen?" he has to ask. with a quick flip of his wrist, he closes the cabinet, then spins around and leans back against it. "We're going out anyway, aren't we? I know that look. It's the 'shut up Thomas and do what I say' look..."
"Where's your sense of adventure?" Redmane asks, sitting up now. "Maybe there are roving gangs of feral wolves, or underground games of fetch, or forbidden dens with squeaky toys."
"We should at least check for incursions of ancient faery creatures returning to their old digs," the knight adds. "We're on the edge of the real wilderness here."
"Oh now you're just being silly. I'm just sensing you're trying to sneak a date out of me," Thomas teases.
"Wait, I have to sneak a date out of you then?" Redmane asks, crossing her arms. "You're supposed to be asking me out. And I'm not kidding about the faeries. There could be anything out there. Ice trolls, boggans, pixies, red caps..."
"No, but I do have to make things difficult for you," Thomas notes, "And aren't we a pair of ancient creatures ourselves?" He turns around and opens up the cabinet long enough to pull out a travel cloak which he throws over his shoulders. "I think you should leave your weapons here," he comments.
"Oh? You're going to protect me then?" Redmane asks, but does remove her sword belt and shoulder strap.
"It's more than it's usually frowned upon to walk around in a town armed," Thomas points out. "And besides, iron blade. You want anonymity, don't carry around something that broadcasts who you are."
"Fine," Redmane agrees. "No looking down dark alleys then, I guess. Will need to go where things are well lit."
"Are you that worried about being attacked?" Thomas asks.
"These are my best traveling clothes," Redmane says. "I don't want to get them too messed up is all."
"If they get messed up, I'll buy you new ones," Thomas claims, then tosses her a sheathed dagger. "Here, so you won't feel too naked."
Grinning, Redmane straps the dagger to her thigh. "You always say the sweetest things, Tom."
"Besides, I want to save your nakedness for when we can get more cream," Thomas counters and waggles his brow back at her.
Standing up, Redmane goes to look out of the window, to see what she can see of the town.
There are definitely people milling about. She can see some rather wolfish fey cuddled close on a bench outside what looks like it might be a tavern. Okay, so maybe they're doing a bit more than cuddling if Redmane's right about where the man's hand is. Pulling her eyes away from that she can see further up the street a group of children chasing a ball around. Being shape-shifters seems to make a simple ball game a lot more interesting ... and wow does shifting midair to intercept it look painful.
Redmane winces, remembering how it felt to do that - and she had to do it slowly. "Nothing much nearby," she reports, "Except for maybe a tavern. Could start there though and find out more if people are talkative."
"Maybe they even serve cooked food," she adds, her stomach rumbling a little.
"There's also the Cathedral," Thomas points out, "But sure, I'm game for a bit of drinking..."
"I'm sure they rebuilt it," Redmane says. "Would be nice to see it in it's full glory. And.. uh, think they serve any light drinks?"
"Probably. I don't think canids can drink," Thomas comments. He heads to the door and extends his arm. "Shall we?"
"Let's shall!" Redmane says, pulling on her cloak and taking Thomas' arm. "I promise not to drink any wine. That leads to whipped cream, after all!"
"You make that sound like a bad thing. Are you regretting it now?" Thomas asks as he guides Redmane out of the room, down the stairs, and back onto the street.
The woman blushes a bit. "Not yet I don't. We'll see how things turn out here."
The stars are just coming into view above and the air is brisk but not unpleasant as the pair walk down the street. Both can hear snippets of conversation all around them, to the occasional bark to even a periodic breakout of howling. "My main memory of this place is being beaten repeatedly," Thomas comments.
"Wasn't that all a part of your plan though, at the time?" Redmane asks.
"Being beaten up? Not particularly, no," Thomas says, "It was getting them to accept me as not an enemy."
"I mostly remember that the people wore a lot less clothes back then," Redmane says.
"Ah, yes. A tradition I miss ... " Thomas says.
Redmane gives Tom's arm a light pinch. "Watch for signs of caste too," she notes. "I want to know if there are still alphas and omegas.."
"Ow, what?" Thomas complains about the pinch. Whatever else he says, though, is lost. It's strange, but all of a sudden Redmane can't hear the rest of the town anymore. All she hears a plaintive cry of "...help..."
Redmane freezes in her tracks, yanking Thomas to a standstill as well. "Did you hear... a cry for help?" she asks, as she looks around to try and figure out if it came from a particular direction.
"A cry for help? No?" Thomas says with a confused look on his face.
Try as she might, she can't figure out where that cry came from. "What exactly did you hear?" Thomas asks, "What direction?"
"I can't tell," Redmane says in frustration. "Everything went silent, and then I heard someone cry for help."
"Are you sure? I didn't hear anything," Thomas says. So ... of course everything goes silent again and Redmane hears it. It's a cry for help, perhaps an older woman. It's very hard to tell.
"There it goes again," Redmane claims, straining to try and figure out where it's coming from. "Like an older woman, maybe. It might be a ghost.."
"I don't hear it. Are you sure?" Thomas asks.
"I'm do not normally hear things, Thomas," Redmane notes. "And this is different anyway, since everything goes quiet so that the only thing I hear is the cry for help."
"Well, maybe you're just going crazy?" Thomas says jokingly, then holds up his hands defensively. "Okay, lets be logical about this. Why would you hear it, but not me?"
"Because I'm not fey, would be my first guess," Redmane says, and then sits down on the ground and closes her eyes to help her concentrate if she hears it again.
Yes, there it is again. She still can't tell the exact direction, but it is most likely somewhere ahead along this road.
"Yes, you're not fey and I won't hold that against you," Thomas quips. Sure, he sounds like he's joking but his expression is actually rather serious.
Getting back up, Redmane starts marching down the road. "C'mon, I think it's this way," she says.
"Right, lead on, crazy woman!" Thomas quips. And so, he follows. The tracking leads down the street. Oddly, the sound only grows louder for Redmane as she gets closer to the cathedral ahead.
"The Cathedral?" the knight wonders aloud, and picks up her pace since she has a destination now.
Perhaps it is. As Redmane draws closer she can see a tattered, old, wolf limping its way towards the Cathedral. The poor creature looks like it has been almost torn apart; one of its back legs isn't working.
"I still don't hear anything," Thomas claims as they approach the Cathedral.
"Hey!" Redmane calls to the wolf, hurrying up to it.
"What are you doing? Who are you talking to?" Thomas calls out after Redmane.
The wolf ahead staggers and then collapses onto the cobblestones in a heap.
Redmane kneels next to the wolf and tries to raise its head. "Can you hear me?" she asks it.
"Uhm, Red, why are you kneeling in the dirt?" Thomas asks from behind her.
The head of the poor creature feels remarkably heavy. All the wolf does is whimper slightly in Redmane's hands.
"At least tell me your name," Redmane pleads, ignoring Thomas for the moment.
No answer is forthcoming, unfortunately. Instead, the the wolf's front forepaw scrapes weakly as if trying to still get to the Cathedral.
"Hold on," Redmane says, and tries to lift the wolf up into her arms and carry it to the Cathedral.
"Miurenn, what are you doing?" Thomas asks again.
It's an effort, but Redmane manages to heft the wolf up and into her arms.
"I'm carrying a wounded wolf into the Cathedral!" Redmane says in exasperation, and heads as fast as she's able for the entrance. "Help me!"
"Muirenn," Thomas says in a gentle voice, "There's nothing in your arms."
"Just make sure the door is open for me then," Redmane says. Imaginary or not, the wolf feels heavy to her!
Thomas nods at that and hurries ahead of her to open the heavy stone doors. Once the doors are open, Thomas abandons them to go help hold Redmane up. "I don't know what is going on, but I'm here for you," he says.
"Thanks," Redmane replies with a smile, as she tries to carry her burden through the door.
The hallways are dark and it's hard to seem such of anything. All that Redmane can make out is the main doors to the meeting chamber are open. Through them she can see a shaft of moonlight alighting the center of the floor ahead. A spot Redmane knows well, a spot that hasn't been restored in all these years. A cracked sigil of the moon; it still bears the gaping wound her sword cut in it all those Years ago.
"They never repaired it," Redmane says in surprise, and carries the wolf towards the central sigil and the shaft of moonlight.
Thomas continues to support Redmane's weight even though he cannot see her burden. As Redmane crosses the threshold of the chamber, the wolf in her arms lets out a soft sigh ... and grows still and limp in her arms.
"Wait!" Redmane cries, and lays the wolf down on the sigil. "Don't go!"
The air around Redmane and the wolf grows still and silent. In fact, Redmane feels alone. She can't even feel Thomas' hands where they had been supporting her. The wolf in front of her is also gone; replaced by a large woman with monstrous horns sprouting from her forehead, firey red hair, and fragments of green armor covering her flesh here and there. It's someone Redmane knows well. She finds herself looking down at the creature she once was.
"You," Redmane whispers. "I killed you.."
The creature before her lies still. No breath, no heartbeat, no movement. In the center of her chest is a great gash, one that goes completely through her and blossoms into a spidery red tear in her back.
"Why are you here?" she asks the creature. "Are you.. a message?" she whispers.
"Do you have regrets?" a willowy voice asks from ... somewhere.
"Of giving up that life? No," Redmane answers quietly.
Redmane can feel a light touch upon her shoulders. "Then these fey were worth it? The penance was worth it?" the voice asks. "All the frustrations the fey caused you? Their wars?"
"Yes," Redmane insists, still looking down. "I had nothing before. No reason, beyond fighting and dying. The fey are the only ones who ever showed me any love, even when I was their enemy."
"You were released from your oath to me when you found your way back to us from the realm of the mortals," the voice says, "So now I have a question to ask of you: Do you wish to remain my daughter? To serve when it is needed of you? Or do you wish for peace in your life now?"
Redmane lets out her breath, and feels a chill from the question. "I am a knight. I will always serve when I am needed. If I can have peace in between, I will accept it. Agatha deserves peace."
"And you will always be my goddess."
"I asked you what you wished, not what you felt was owed to others," the voice says kindly. "A true follower is never forced, but gives willingly. I hold you to no more oaths, daughter. You are forevermore Muirenn Rhudehein, the Knight Redmane, and you own your path in life." Those hands on her shoulders turn her around slowly until Redmane finds herself looking into the face of a willowy woman whose visage is never quite solid. In those eyes she sees the crippled old wolf, an old woman, a newborn child, even the wildness she often sees in her own friend's eyes. "And I welcome you home. Though you were gone for a long time, you were never out of my sight," she says before she embraces Redmane in a hug.
"Thank you for coming back here, Cerridwen," Redmane whispers, crying as she's hugged. "I.. I want to be happy. Sometimes that means struggling, or fighting for something. Overcoming things. I want to be proud of what I do. I want.. I want to make someone else happy too, if I can. Isn't that all anyone wants?"