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Sador of Burlach had two awakenings this day. At dawn, hurriedly dressed, he limped a bleary way some steps to a prearranged corner, a couple of small, pale letters in his hand, where he encountered a Guard Captain on a roan horse.
The young man eyed the older soldier curiously for a long moment. This captain again; a free agent, an unpredictable one; he did not know his name, only that he had passed a mysterious dispatch to Aldarion. Still, he was, for the moment, the only tool at hand.
"These," Sador spat out curtly, "this to my father, that to the elder of my sisters. And now, I'm going straight back to bed."
***
Cirdacil - already at his desk - received and read the letter without any surprise, nodding automatically at several points, the very model of an industrious old gentleman in the process of confirming his worldview. Then he set the message down and took up the quill and account book again.
Lady Aerwen read her communication an hour or two later, on her way into the Tower's great library, where she delighted to spend her days in profound reading; the old and superannuated Guard who served as porter, a mild and owlish man who was particularly fond of this sweet, plain, ageing maid, passed it to her. She left the seal unbroken until well within the library. Finding her usual seat, she took down a History of the Isen Campaigns. Only now did she lay the letter between the tome's pages, and read it quickly as if swallowing an unpleasant errand. But there was unwonted, if suppressed, excitement in her eyes, too.
***
Sador might have got back to bed, but not to sleep; the arrangements here were hardly luxuriant, anyway. And he was as harried by as much worry by any of the players, albeit of another sort. Were not things going rather too conveniently? Today was all-important; everything was to be won; and he could not help experiencing some forboding about it. Besides, soon he would face her again (and rest assured, he was not here thinking of his sister, nor of any among the company). He had passed an uncertain night, and it was not to be redeemed even by the sweet afterslumber of a lazy morning...
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