Ghosts of the Past

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron had to admit to himself that he was enjoying the ride beside Lord Alister.  In spite of the increased vigilance they all felt, it was almost like their initial trip down to Culdi.  Easy camaraderie, no complications.

He spied the closed gate just ahead, and felt a small knot develop in his stomach.  "Lord Alister," he said.  "They aren't planning on jumping that, are they?"

Aliset, not realizing her man-at-arms discomfiture, nodded. "It's not a very high gate, and one could always try the hedgerow instead."

"I think that will be me then," Darcy replied.  Aliset looked at him in surprise.  "I've been at sea for 12 years," Darcy said.  "I've not been jumping many horses."

Aliset smiled and nodded.  Darcy guided Sigrun toward the hedge, farther down from where the leading man-at-arms intended to jump.

Dice role for Lord Jaxom, 3d6 for an experienced rider.
Jerusha   !roll 3d6
15:50   derynibot   5, 5, 4 == 14

Lord Jaxom, in the lead, lined up his approach and jumped well clear of the gate.

Dice role for an uninjured landing.
Jaxom : 1d6
Jerusha   !roll 1d6
15:51   derynibot   5 == 5

With a somewhat undignified whoop, Lord Jaxom landed clear and continued onward.

Dice role for the jump of the man-at-arms.
Man-at-arms  2d6
Jerusha   !roll 2d6
15:52   derynibot   1, 1 == 2

With a shriek, the man-at-arm's horse stopped in front of the hedgerow, pulling to the side and almost dismounting his rider.

Roll for injuries.
Man-at-arms 1d6
Jerusha   !roll 1d6
15:53   derynibot   3 == 3

The horse stopped, refusing to move further, one leg held above the ground.

Darcy had no time to wonder about what had happened.  He had Sigrun in position.  "Easy you go, Pet," he said to his horse.  "You can do it."

Dice roll for Darcy's jump.  2d6, inexperienced rider.

Jerusha   !roll 2d6
15:54   derynibot   5, 2 == 7

Sigrun cleared the hedgerow easily.

Darcy roll for a safe landing  1d6
Jerusha   !roll 1d6
15:56   derynibot   1 == 1

Jubilant at their success, Darcy was unprepared for Sigrun's unexpected scream. In a moment, exultation shifted to despair as Sigrun fell forward.  Darcy managed to kick himself free at the very last moment.

Roll for injury. Darcy 1d6
Jerusha   !roll 1d6
15:56   derynibot   1 == 1
(Oh good grief!)

Darcy hit the ground hard, his breath completely knocked out of him and experiencing a sharp, deep pain in his thigh.  He did his best to roll with the momentum of the fall, but it didn't help much.  Gasping, he turned his head and saw Sigrun struggling to her feet.  He felt along the side of his leg and was surprised to feel warm blood. "Sweet Jesu," he muttered when he saw the caltrop embedded deeply in his thigh, blood seeping around the edges of the wound.

Still not recovered of enough breath to call out, he did his best to tap into his fledgling Deryni powers.

"Stop! Don't jump! Caltrops!"

[Laurna]

Lord Jaxom made that jump like an expert houseman, for indeed the nobleman surely was. As for the son of Corwyn, he had done this often enough with several horses of various abilities. None with the competence and vigorous desire as had his current war horse. Given a free reign, Shadow would happily rush the fence and bound upward with a force great enough to jump a six foot fence. Shadow didn't understand moderation. Washburn had learned to hold his stubborn beast back, to steady him on his hind quarters, and to fit a perfect set of strides into the short distance before the jump. Following Lord Jaxom, Shadow fought for his head, he wanted to run. "Easy, boy," Wash said soothingly, making the stallion pace himself perfectly to the exact spot where Wash knew his steed would get the best send off to leap over the four foot gate.

Then, suddenly, the horse ahead, carrying the man-at-arms, bulked. Horse and rider crashed into the hedge. The squire riding near Wash didn't slow. He had hoped to follow close on the man-at-arms heals, over the hedge, but that space was suddenly blocked. Instead the Squire veered, crowding Shadow as both prepared to take the gate together. Trained as a warhorse, Shadow took the crowding with displeasure. He nipped at the squire's horse, backing the boy off, ruining Washburn's strategy to take the jump cleanly. Spurring Shadow to pay attention, Washburn nearly missed Master Darcy's brave rush at the hedge with his fine legged mount making a clean long jump. Washburn was impressed. Until he heard the horse squeal on the landing. In the glint of sun just as Shadow was pushing off, Washburn saw one, on the far side of the gate, right where he would have chosen to land.

Nasty iron spikes there on the ground. Holy damnation! "Hold!" Washburn yelled.

((Wash jumping gate 3d6 roll= 2,2,3=7 failed Verification Number: 55ltpp7dkz))

Even as Darcy was falling to the ground, unsure of his companion's condition, the Lendour knight threw all his weight onto his horse's neck, pulling the destrier's head hard over and breaking the stallion's center of balance. The stallion reared and screamed, his side chest slamming the gate, his sudden stopped motion launched his rider hard against the wood slats.

((Wash staying on horse after refusal 1d6 roll 4  failed Verification number 3n2mg52b0p))

There was no staying in the saddle, not with Shadow's hind feet slipping sideways and his front legs sliding across the top of the gate.  For a moment, Wash thought he would be squished between horse and wood. But then the big horse reversed his fall and staggered back a pace. The squire's horse nearly ran through the gate then, unable to stop or jump. In that instant, all Wash saw was a chestnut in too close a proximity. Then he was grabbing at the smaller horse's bridle and keeping him from the danger on the gate's far side.

[Evie]

((Edited to slightly modify beginning, since I just remembered Darcy had attempted a Mind-Speech warning, and wanted to see if Aliset would pick up on it. 

08:56   Aliset   !roll 2d6
08:56   derynibot   4, 2 == 6))

Stop! Don't jump! Caltrops!

Aliset heard an unexpected voice within her head, but did not know what it meant, and at that moment was too distracted to give it much thought.  Papillon whinnied in confused fear as she lurched to one side to avoid the chaos suddenly springing up before her, nearly throwing Aliset out of her saddle. Aliset scrambled to regain control of her panicked mount, her attention fully on that task for the next few seconds, although once Papillon recovered from her momentary alarm and grew less agitated, Aliset was able to rein her in and take full stock of what was happening.

Sir Washburn had suddenly stopped his horse rather than attempting the leap over the gate, that much had seemed clear to Aliset in that brief moment before all hell had broken loose. What she couldn't tell was why, although now that she surveyed what was happening on the other side of the fence, she thought she saw at least one reason.  Master Darcy appeared to be injured, as did his horse!  How or why, Aliset did not know. Had the horse stumbled on the landing after the jump? Aliset couldn't remember; that would have been right around the time all the confusion began.

Her keen eyes searched the other side of the fence, trying to spot whatever it was that Sir Washburn saw that had caused him to halt suddenly rather than attempt the jump. Had it been a viper, perhaps, or maybe a peasant's scythe left out in the grass rather than carefully put away?  Even as she had the thought, she knew how unlikely that was.

((08:42   Aliset   !roll 2d6
08:42   derynibot   5, 5 == 10 ))

There!  She did not know what it was, but it looked nasty and altogether unnatural. Most likely a weapon of some sort.  Were there more of them out there? Had they been scattered deliberately to injure and lame unwary riders?  And for what purpose?

Aliset shuddered as she drew alongside Father Columcil, who had also managed to halt his own Spean mere moments before following headlong into the fray.  Dismounting, she pointed out the spiky object to him.  "Master Darcy appears injured, but it might be best if we approach him slowly. There might be more of those things in the grass beyond the fence.  Maybe we should use your staff to part the grass for a better view of where we're stepping." 

[Jerusha]

Rayne Lanackie almost cheered at the mayhem his toys had caused at the gate down the road, but he decided it was best not to make his presence known.  Not that anyone would have heard him above the noise of the squealing horses and general shouts of the men.  The lead man had jumped clean; the first to try the hedgerow failed and now had an injured horse.  The other man to try the hedgerow had jumped clean, but horse and rider had fallen immediately after.  The horse struggled to its feet; the man took a bit longer to rise and limped over to comfort his horse.  Rayne looked more closely at the man.  Had he seen him before?  He shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand and strained to get a better look.

Does Rayne recognize the man he had seen in the tree at Droghera.
Jerusha   !roll 1d6
16:05   derynibot   4 == 4
(Failure is not always a bad thing.)

Rayne dropped his hand and shook his head.  No, he had not seen the man before.

No matter.  He watched as the mass of men and horses tried to disentangle themselves at the gate.  He was in no hurry to leave; it would take them a while to resume their journey, and they would be travelling much slower.

[revanne]

All was chaos at the gate as Columcil pulled Spean to a halt. Riding somewhat behind the others he had been irritated by the speed at which they approached the barrier in front of them. Blessed Mary Mother they were not in that much of a hurry! Had it not occurred to their Lordships to untie the gate and go through like sensible folk? As Lord Jaxom sailed gracefully over the barrier, horse and rider making an elegant arc, he had had his answer. Of course not. Untying gates was for lesser folk who could only gawp as their betters showed off their horsemanship. Angrily Columcil shook his head as if to dislodge his thoughts - he had better get this growing dislike of the gentry out of his head before they met up with some real nobility or he was like to find himself in trouble. Maybe it was just Lord Jaxom that got under his skin, he had respect enough for Lord Washburn and Lady Aliset. But the sooner he could fulfil his own mission on behalf of St Melangell and return home the better.

Muttering under his breath to himself Columcil saw a man-at-arms fail to jump the hedge for no reason that he could see but a stab of pain from no-where made him wince. Then Darcy went forward and he was over, but Sigrun had fallen! The pain this time was blinding ((2bxfgf7bgf 4+5+2 =11 rolling advantage to sense Sigrun's pain)), even before Sigrun screamed. Ack, the poor brave beast. His previous bad mood was swallowed up in real rage, a rage only intensified as a faint voice said something in his head about caltrops. He slipped his feet out of his stirrups and hastily dismounted, aware that Aliset was saying something to him but too angry to listen properly.

Turning to her he said tersely, "It's caltrops, some b***," he bit off the epiphet with difficulty, "has seeded the ground around yon hedge." Someone needed to do something to stop any more riders going over but they were not going to take notice of him. They would of Lord Washburn though. Pushing his way heedlessly through the horses and riders milling about in front of the gate, Columcil reached through to Washburn who was trying to calm both his own Shadow and a squire's horse. 

"Leave the beasts ta me, My Lord, and do summat wi these fools!" As he spoke Columcil had taken the reins Washburn was holding out of his hand, slipped them along his arm, and had a hand on each horse's muzzle speaking words of comfort and sending calm into their thoughts. "Cum on na, ma bonnie lads. Nae need ta fret." Washburn straightened at Columcil's calm assumption that he was the one to take charge and called out in a commanding voice for all to dismount and hold their horses still. Both horses and riders were keyed up by the speed at which they had been travelling and the shock of their sudden halt but in a short time Washburn's authority had re-established order.

The squire whose horse's reins Columcil was holding had with a sheepish expression regained control of his mount and when Washburn returned it was to find Columcil with his arm around Shadow's neck and the stallion nuzzling into the neck of the priest's robes. "I'll thank you, Father, to stop making love to my horse before he forgets he's a fierce war horse!" Washburn spoke sternly but his grin belied his words and Columcil grinned back. Aye, the lad would do, would do very well indeed.

"Aye, he looks better in his own shape." Then, serious again, he added "Well done there, My Lord. We'd best be seeing what we can do for the poor beasts over yonder. Sigrun's pain is like a knife in ma head." He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he was about to be overly presumptious then decided that this was no time to be worrying about such things. "By your leave, My Lord, I'll tether Shadow's reins next to Spean, I could do with your help with the wounded. You've healer's blood in you right enough." He could not restrain the thought And I should know, since it's mine too, but it most certainly was not the time for that comment.

((All four following dice throws have validation 63xnqpl4nm)). 

Columcil and Washburn went to the gate. Columcil was unsurprised to find that the latch was long gone but he had hoped that the replacement rope could be easily lifted over the post. To his frustration it was tied in a succession of matted knots. Muttering about poor husbandry he tentatively tried to extend his powers to prize the knots apart but Sigrun's pain was like a burning brand in his head ((1+3=4)) and he could not focus. To his relief Washburn had his sword out and with deft strokes cut through the recalitrant strands and lent a willing shoulder to help Columcil lift the sagging gate far enough out of the mud for the two of them to squeeze through.

Columcil wanted to run to Sigrun but the beast was already afrighted enough. Instead he walked slowly, his hand out and said quietly to Darcy, "Hold her still, if you can. I wilna hurt her." He did not know whether Sigrun knew that he had healed her before but she allowed him to lift her leg and bend over her hoof. The caltrop was still there, one of its upturned points embedded into the soft frog of her hoof. "Sweet Jesus!" he swore, not caring if anyone heard him, "these bloody things are evil. Hush now, ma lassie, we'll ha it oot."  He firmly grasped the wicked thing and gently pulled it out, giving it to Washburn who at Columcil's nod put it into his belt pouch. "Follow me if you will my Lord."  ((roll for rapport with Washburn 6+6 =12)). Columcil felt Washburn's mind join with his in a close rapport, evidence perhaps of all that bound them, then he forgot all else, running his hand down Sigrun's foreleg and cupping her hoof in his hand. As he felt the healing energies he could feel Sigrun relax and coming out of his healing trance he saw that all trace of the cut, and the bruising that had surrounded it had gone. ((roll to heal Sigrun 5+1 =6)).

"Bless you lad. It'll no be long before ye're doing this yersen." Columcil spoke almost absently to Washburn, there was still pain in his head, for another beast had been injured, though not one as well known to him as Sigrun. Still he must see if had the energy to heal again, this time without Washburn who was talking earnestly to Darcy. Walking back through the gate, ((as I read it the man-at-arms didn't actually jump the hedge)) he found the man-at-arms whose horse had refused the jump bending anxiously over his mount's foot. The horse having baulked at the jump and therefore not landed so heavily, this time the caltrop had not inbedded itself and Columcil found that he could slip easily enough into trance and guide the blood around the injury to bring healing. ((6+3=9)). The man-at-arms looked a little startled but grateful and managed a few words of thanks before taking refuge from the unknown by burying his face in his horse's mane to comfort them both.

Taking a deep breath Columcil began to turn towards where Spean and Shadow were grazing peacefully, but glanced towards where he had left Washburn and Darcy on the other side of the hedge. As though he felt his glance Washburn began beckoning urgently, and Columcil noticed for the first time that he was supporting Darcy. What a fool he was, he had been so taken up with Sigrun's pain that he had never thought to ask if Darcy was injured.

[Laurna]

There was a rush Wash felt as Sigrun's hoof was healed clean. The good father's Healing abilities were keen; he had knowledge of how animals sensed pain and how their body's healed. Even without his Deryni talents, Wash was certain Father Columcil would have made an excellent animal physician. In their Rapport, Wash could sense Columcil's true compassion for easing the injured horse's pain. Perhaps that was half the key to bringing forth the Healer's ability within himself. ((1d6  rolled 1 Verification Number: 7hzmdt79vl)) yet he still could not find it. He failed miserably to help Collumcil heal the horse hoof. Somewhere, deep within himself he knew the ability was there. Columcil showed him that, yes, it was there. Both men suddenly knew it. But how to tap into it.

The priest could feel the second animal's pain from even this far away. Having successfully Healed one horse, he quickly moved on to the second injury one.

Washburn straightened as he placed Sigrun's good foot upon the ground and rubbed his hand down the knee feeling the past tension of the animal release and go away. Yet, there was still pain in his mind from somewhere. Instinctively, Wash looked up at Master Darcy. The man was standing against his horse's flank, his face as pale as a ghost, his eyes shut tight. Darcy was braving that which he could barely take, with short intakes of breath. Wash looked down to see the seaman's hand pressing his thigh, blood oozing down the leg, a beastly device of Iron puncuted breaches and skin.

"Holy...No you don't..." Wash gasped, grabbing Darcy's shoulder as he felt the man grow weaker and start to black out. Wash tried to encompass Darcy's mind and send him energy, but even in his weaken state those shields of his were strong.  ((1d6 rolled 1 Verification Number: 4ln7skq57z)) ((Darn, he best leave off, afore he turns Darcy into a toad.))

Wash had to give that up and go straight to the wound. Darcy had one firm grip on the saddle, which was all that was keeping him standing. Apparently at sea, a death grip on a rope might be all that could keep a man from being washed overboard in heavy seas. Darcy had that grip now.

Washburn ran his hand over the device. Angrily he pulled it out. Blood ran over his fingers, Damn! Columcil was too far away. "Saint Camber, help him!"

Calm down, center, find the key. Darcy needed him. He liked this man, too much so to let this wound take him down.  Washburn pulled forth his medallion; found his true focus. Center... Caring... Compassion.. Love of life. Those were the key.

((12:12 Wash-laurna !roll 1d6
12:12 derynibot 6 == 6))

A hand, eitheral in form, not really there, yet an embodiment of compassion covered Washburn's hand. Without really knowing why, the knight pushed his index finger deep into the wound. He thought to squelch the flow of blood. What he felt from himself through the hand over his, was so much more. The blood vessels were made whole, the muscles knotted together, slowly as he withdrew from the wound tissues were repaired... and.... Healed... "Gades!"

"Bless you Camber!" Washburn said as he opened his hand over the leg. He knew the saint had come and had gone, leaving his blessed touch behind.

((edited for hit points healed.
1d6 rolled 5 Verification Number: 2v5zr5r5gc))  good! 3 hit points total healled

[Evie]

As Father Columcil headed forward to speak to Sir Washburn, then to tend to Healing the injured horses, her words to him apparently having fallen on deaf ears, she shook her head in disbelief.  Horses? thought Aliset. What about the injured MAN lying there!  MEN!!!  Heavens above, she would never understand the lot of them!  This was why God created women--not as an afterthought, but because He'd realized the world needed more sensible creatures than this flighty lot to serve as stewards of His creation!

Well, at least since she'd managed to avoid injury herself, and had no Healing gifts to offer, and at any rate Sir Washburn and Father Columcil seemed to be getting that end of things well enough in hand now--Aliset breathed a sigh of relief as finally someone had taken note of Master Darcy's predicament without her having to rush blindly across a field of spiky metal things to his aid!--so she decided to turn her irritated attentions to helping out in some other useful way.  Ridding their path of those accursed hazards might be one way. What had that voice in her mind called them? Caltrops?

Walking cautiously through the gate, she picked up a twig and began parting the long grass with it, peering carefully at the ground before her before placing each step forward, searching for the metal objects in question to remove them from their path. As she found each one, she carefully set it to one side, the caltrops forming a small spiky pile next to the fence.  Perhaps they should take them with them once everyone was Healed and they left this place to continue their journey towards Rhemuth.  They might come in useful against their pursuers, after all, loath though Aliset was to injure anyone's horse, no matter how foul its rider. 

As she searched, she pondered that mental warning.  Who had sent it? It didn't 'sound' like Sir Washburn's mental voice. Had that been Master Darcy's? Yes, it had to have been, unlikely as that seemed.  Having learned he was Deryni, it made sense that he might have tried to reach out with his fledgling powers at a moment of crisis.  Aliset smiled, feeling proud of him for having attempted to call out a warning to them, and even more so that he'd succeeded in his attempt, however belated it might have been.  She glanced in his direction. It appeared he'd been successfully Healed after all.  Looking at his bloodstained clothing, Aliset suppressed a sigh. More tattered laundry.  It would be a wonder at this rate if they didn't all turn up before King Kelson looking like beggars!  She would see if she could find a packet of needles and some thread the next time they found themselves someplace civilized. Perhaps there'd be supplies of that sort at Arx Fidei. 

Assuming they managed to meet up with His Grace of Corwyn and made it alive to Arx Fidei, of course.  These caltrops had not grown in this field on their own.  With a frown, Aliset looked around at the surrounding countryside, casting out with her senses for any signs of the enemy close at hand, watching them.

((15:54   Aliset   !roll 2d6
15:54   derynibot   5, 5 == 10 ))

There!  As she looked in the direction of a wooded area just at the edge of the grasslands, she thought she spotted some movement, then was sure of it as the light caught a reflection off something hidden in the trees and brush.  Quickly, she looked around for the nearest armed warrior.  Spotting Lord Jaxom close by her, she discreetly pointed him towards the motion and murmured, "We are being watched."

[HoundMistress]

((You are all doing so well! I'm so glad to have some new pieces to read. You are all so talented!!!))

[Jerusha]

"You can let go now."

Darcy Cameron opened his eyes to see Sir Washburn smiling at him.  The intense pain in his leg had gone.  Muscles that had started to stiffen from bruising relaxed.  Tentatively, Darcy released his death grip from his saddle.  There was no dizziness; his legs, both of them, stood firm.

"You did this?" Darcy asked quietly. 

"Aye," Washburn said, gripping Darcy's shoulder in quick reassurance.  "Thank you.  You showed me I could Heal."

"You are thanking me?"  Darcy asked incredulously.  "Sweet Jesu man, you saved my life.  I owe you much."

"Perhaps we owe each other," the Lendour knight responded, still on a bit of a Healing high.  But he sobered quickly.  Healing was not a gift to be flaunted, and he was not a man to boast of such a blessing.  "We need to regroup and move on."

"Aye," Darcy said simply.  Sigrun's head nudged his shoulder as if to make sure he was well.  "Come, my pet.  This journey is not done."  After a quick caress of his horse's head, he followed Sir Washburn back to the group.

In their absence, Aliset had gathered a disturbingly large pile of caltrops.  Darcy winced at the sight.  Now she was motioning to Lord Jaxom, pointing at something in the trees farther down the road.

Aliset turned as they approached.  "There is someone watching us from that direction," she said. 

"Lord Jaxom could take a couple of men and flush whoever it is out," Darcy suggested.  "I could go with them," he continued hopefully.  He had a score to settle.

"Nay," Washburn said.  "Whoever it is, he is too far ahead of us.  We'll ride out, but watch to see if he moves on.  When we are close enough, Lord Jaxom, have two of your men ready to ride out fast and hard. If we can catch him, I want to know what this was about."

Lord Jaxom nodded his agreement; Washburn's plan made sense. Darcy turned to Lord Alister.

"My Lord," he said.  "You are unhurt?  No injuries?  Papillion is well? "

Lord Alister smiled at him.  "Yes, Master Darcy.  No worries here."

Darcy hoped he disguised his relief.  God help anyone who hurt Lady Aliset.  Or tried. They would find him a very determined protector.

(Edited last sentence when I realized it could be read that Darcy would not protect her.  Eek!)

[revanne]

Columcil watched his three companions but made no attempt to join them. Let Sir Washburn enjoy the elation of his first healing and the knowledge that the healing blood of his father ran true in him. He would have to find a time  to apologise to Darcy, though for the young Lord's sake he was glad that he had not been there to share in the seaman's healing, but not while the feminine irritation of Lady Aliset was looking daggers at him out of Lord Alister's eyes. He had seen that look too often in the eyes of his own housekeeper not to recognise it for what it was.

It was true that he had forgotten Darcy, and he would need to make reparation for that, but he would have defied anyone to think of anything but Sigrun, the way the puir wee beastie's scream had been burning in his mind. And truth be told had he remembered Darcy, who after all though he had been in pain had hardly been in mortal danger, he might still have chosen to put the horses first. His love and care for animals came he supposed from having St Melangell as his patroness who had outfaced the Prince of Meara himself, so they said, and protected the hare that he was hunting under her skirts. Given the valley for her own, all living things had come under her protection, and though she was gone these many centuries still the folk of her valley, that was now his parish, looked more kindly on living things than was commonplace. Or perhaps, he wondered for the first time, it was the other way round and his affinity with animals was part of his father's Deryni heritage and that was what had drawn him to the service of St Melangell. Ah well, best leave well alone, he had managed well enough without asking such questions.

[Laurna]

 ((Revanne's references to Saint Melangell church and valley and the similar setting to which our characters are traveling through.))
http://www.st-melangell.org.uk/English/Church/stmelangellchurch.htm.







((Valley from St Melangell near Llanrhaeadr-ym-Mochnant which is just a little North west of Shewsbury))

[Demercia]

(( It's a beautiful peaceful place, but despite the link definitely not English.  Welsh😀  ))

Double parentheses added by DesertRose

[revanne]

(( Thank you for posting the pics, Laurna. It is a beautiful spot which I have visited several times and entirely devoid of lurking assasins with crossbows or caltrops. ))

Double parentheses added by DesertRose

[DerynifanK]

(( A beautiful  place, can see why Columcil  loves it. Near Shrewsbury  which is in Shopshire near the Welsh border, home of Brother Cadfael.))

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron nodded to Father Columcil as the priest approached. He was getting ready to mount up and continue the journey to Arx Fedei. 

"Master Darcy," Father Columcil began, "If I might have a word."

Of course, Father," Darcy replied.  "But first I must thank you for healing Sigrun.  She was sore distressed; I am grateful you were able to help her."

"I should have looked to your injury first," Columcil said, beginning what he thought would be an apology.

"Good heavens, no!"  Darcy replied.  "I was in pain, 'tis true, but my Sigrun needed help first.  She may not be the grand noble steed Sir Washburn rides, but she's a good, steady horse.  She's the first I've ever owned, except for a pony by the same name long ago.  I quite fancy her.  And she puts up with me."

Sigrun turned her head toward the priest and nudged his shoulder.  Columcil stroked her soft muzzle.

"She knows a friend, Father," Darcy said with a smile.  "We both thank you."

Columcil watched as Master Darcy mounted his horse, no trace of previous injury or stiffness marring the smooth ascent.

"God go with you, Master Darcy," Columcil said. 

"Thank you, Father," Darcy replied and guided Sigrun to take their place beside Lord Alister.

Father Columcil gazed after them a moment longer and then turned to retrieve Spean.  Sometimes it was best to accept what was and put aside guilt that was not needed.