Pawns and Queens--A 15th Century Gwynedd Story--Chapter Twenty-Seven

[Evie]

Previous chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3252.0.html


Chapter Twenty-Seven

September 1, 1464
Melisande and Lucie's apartment
Rhemuth Castle
Morning

Melisande had dipped into part of her dwindling coin reserves (the small amount of money she'd had on her person when the Princess's liegemen had evacuated her family from the lodge) in order to buy a few extra gowns and chemises from one of the secondhand sellers at Market Square. She and Lucie were fortunately of similar height, so it helped that they could share the wardrobe if they bought gowns loose enough to fit Mellie's growing girth, which could be laced up more tightly for Lucie's use until her waistline expanded later. Lucie had confided that the Healer had confirmed she was also bearing a child, which was news the girl was struggling with accepting, and Mellie had found her on occasion stifling tears when the children were at play and not paying attention to the women in the room.

In the evenings when Mellie's daughters were asleep, the two women discussed Lucie's future.

"You could say you're a widow, you know," Mellie told her. "This far south from Woodbury, few would be able to prove otherwise."

Lucie nodded. "It would almost be true, actually. My Ned and I were meant to wed in July." Her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," said Mellie. "Was he...did the enemy...?"

"They strung him up from a tree like he was some common criminal," Lucie said bitterly. "The boy king and his men did. Because Ned fought back, I think. He was trying to protect me."

Mellie squeezed her hand, knowing nothing she could say would be helpful, but wanting to acknowledge her new friend's pain nonetheless.

There was a knock on the door, and Mellie went to answer it. To her surprise, Balian stood outside, looking so grown up in his Haldane livery. He carried a large wicker basket, which she recognized was filled with the clothing she had sent to be laundered the day before. "Aunt Elisa has the laundry maids washing a bunch of linen for some reason," he told her, "so I said I would bring these up for you. You shouldn't be carrying heavy items right now anyway."

Mellie chuckled at the idea of Balian attempting to act as her protector, though it also made her a little sad. He was growing up so quickly, and she worried he might grow away from her as well, here at the Haldane Court, though for now anyway he seemed thrilled to have his mother and sisters close by again. She stepped back from the doorway, allowing him to bring the basket into her bedroom for her so she could move the clothing into her trunk and leave him the basket to bring back to the laundresses. "Thank you, son." She piled the folded clothing on her bed, intending to sort through it later, and handed the basket back to him.

"I should get this back downstairs," said Balian, stealing a quick glance at his mother's housemate. "The King will be expecting me soon, then I will have fighter practice in the late afternoon."

Melisande suppressed a smile. Her eight-year-old had been making calf-eyes at Lucie ever since he'd first seen her. Jesú, she was not ready to deal with a son with an eye for pretty ladies yet! In her heart, he was still a small child, not halfway to young manhood already! She wished Colin were here to say whatever it was that fathers said to their sons when they reached this age.

"Yes, you mustn't keep the King waiting," Mellie said, and her son beamed proudly at the maternal acknowledgment of his important duties. He bowed, looking every inch the smart Haldane in his livery even though his coloring took after hers, and took his leave of her with another shy glance at her housemate.

Turning to sort out the clothing and put it away, Mellie's hand froze above a very familiar looking chemise with an embroidered ribbon pinned to it. "Lucie? Is this yours?"

Lucie had been sitting on her pallet, knees drawn up and encircled by her arms, simply lost in thought, but at the sound of her name she got up to see what Mellie was referring to. At the sight of the chemise, she grimaced. "Oh. Yes, Rémy found it somewhere and gave it to me. I don't want it; I don't want anything that makes me think of him. You can have it if you wish, or maybe the secondhand shop will take it."

Melisande unpinned the ribbon with trembling fingers, pinning it inside the chemise she was wearing. In all of the disruption of the evacuation and the subsequent upheaval of her life, she had nearly forgotten she was meant to be wearing it at all times, or at least until bedtime. Thus far, she had felt fine, and she hoped that was a sign that this pregnancy would not hold the same risks for her as Emmeline's had, and that her former midwife had simply exaggerated the danger. But still, finding the ribbon again was a great comfort, even though it also gave her a bit of disquiet knowing it had come from Catherine. Not that she feared anymore that Catherine meant for it to harm her; Colin had assured her that he could sense the magic in it and knew it was meant to help preserve life and health. But Mellie had felt awkward wearing a charm that she knew had been meant for Colin's wife's use, not hers, so even when she'd had it, she had not always managed to bring herself to wear it despite the possible risks of not wearing it as instructed. But now she realized that had been foolish of her. Her children were still young and they needed her. So she ought to wear it, even though it was a daily reminder of Colin's marriage, causing nearly as much pain as alleged protection.

She was in Rhemuth now. It was not as if she had any hope of escaping daily reminders, so what was one more? Melisande resolved to be more diligent about wearing the charm for the sake of her children.

#

September 1, 1464
The Lower Bailey
Rhemuth Castle
Late afternoon

Melisande and Lucie were making their way through the parklands of the lower bailey with Mellie's daughters, hoping to spot Balian at his fighter practice in the practice field, when they unexpectedly happened upon Queen Soraya and Princess Catherine approaching from the opposite direction, the latter dressed in some odd sort of Andelonian attire, as far as Mellie could make out, that appeared to sport trews of some sort beneath flowing robes, and the Queen Mother garbed in a much more humble form of gown than she normally chose to wear. The two women were looking upward, studying some feature atop the curtain wall on the River Molling side of the castle and hadn't yet noticed the other two women's approach. Mellie hoped to keep it that way. Thus far, Lucie seemed to assume that Mellie was either a war widow or that she had a husband who was fighting in the war. She had not yet managed to summon up the courage to admit to Lucie who her children's father was or her own not particularly welcome presence in their father's court, for fear of losing the young woman's regard. At least if the parentage of Lucie's child were ever to be discovered, she could truthfully say that she had not given her consent to lie with her child's father, and there would be less social stigma and blame attached to the poor girl or her child. Mellie could hardly say the same.

She glanced around, looking to see if there was some side path they might take or a nearby building they could duck into, but it was too late. "Mama, what is Papa's princess wearing?" Anneke asked in a loud whisper before Mellie thought to tell either child to remain quiet. Princess Catherine spotted her before she could lead Lucie off the main path, beckoning them closer. Mellie hardly dared to disobey the summons, though she cringed to think of how the Queen Mother was likely to greet her.

Mellie took a deep breath, raised her chin proudly, reminded herself that she was Sir Edward of Northwode's daughter and no coward, and continued walking towards the royal presences, stopping ten feet before them as protocol demanded and dropping into a deep curtsey, laying a gentle hand on each of her daughter's shoulders to remind them to follow her example as they had previously rehearsed. "Your Majesty," she murmured quietly, ducking her head towards Colin's mother. "Your Highness," she added to Princess Catherine. "You wished to speak with me?" Behind Mellie, Lucie copied her reverence, her eyes huge with awe at being so close to royalty.

"I do," said the Princess. "Our exchequer is looking for you. You're due your monthly living expenses, and he has the pouch ready for you to pick up at his office over the Lesser Hall. Also, since Colin isn't aware of Lucie's presence here at court yet or that she is sharing quarters with you, I've taken the liberty of having an additional fifteen royals a month transferred from the Crown funds into your household account to see to her needs as well." Glancing at Lucie with a smile before looking back at Mellie, she added, "I see you've managed to find some extra clothing for our guest. I would be glad to reimburse you for the added expense."

Mellie blushed, hating to feel indebted to her husband's wife. "There is no need, Your Highness. We only bought a few items, but since they fit us both well enough, we're willing to make do with them. I'm sure there must be many more necessary things to spend your money on with the war about to arrive on your doorstep."

Catherine gave her a wry smile, glancing down at her girls. "Lady Melisande, you are the mother of the children of a Prince, and not merely that, but of our future King. They will have appearances to keep, since he intends for them to be educated at our Court, and for that matter, as much as I suspect you would prefer to remain inconspicuous, I am afraid so will you, at least on more public occasions. We can't have it be said that our Duke of Carthmoor doesn't provide well for his family, can we? So please do not hesitate to ask if there is anything that you or the children need. If Colin is not here to provide it, I will see it taken care of. Your children are Haldanes; therefore, your family's needs are very much a 'necessary expense,' in my view."

"Madam." Mellie curtseyed again, feeling flustered and unsure how to respond.

Changing tack, the princess's smile grew broader as she asked, "Have you had a chance to watch your Balian on the practice field yet? I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a lovely bruise from him on my leg later on today."

Melisande's eyes widened with shock and dismay. "Your Highness?!"

Queen Soraya spoke up for the first time, still ignoring Mellie, but eyeing her daughter-by-marriage with a gleam in her eye. "I told you that you needed to drop your shield slightly, Catherine. The boy's built lower to the ground than you, and his aim is improving, as well it should. He is Uthyr's grandson."

#

September 1, 1464
Melisande and Lucie's apartment
Rhemuth Castle
Late evening

"All right, you two, into your bed you go!"  Melisande kissed her daughters as she tucked their sheet around them. "Good night, poppets."

She closed the door behind herself as she left them to their slumber, returning to the small common room that served as a solar for herself and Lucie. She could tell that her younger housemate had been brimming with questions since their encounter with the royal ladies earlier, but up until then, they had not had many moments alone together.

Lucie offered her a slice of the roast pork, some cheese, and an apple that she had saved from the tray that she had brought up from the castle kitchen earlier. With the Great Hall currently being mainly used for war preparations, there had not been a communal feast served in the Hall since Mellie's arrival, for which she was grateful, though the kitchen servants still ensured that all the castle residents were provided with decent and flavorful fare, as much as could be managed without risk of burning too quickly through the food stores saved up in anticipation of the siege ahead.

"Thank you," said Mellie, accepting the plate that Lucie offered.

The girl turned back to her own half-empty plate. "Does the Princess always tend to the pages' training herself?" she finally ventured.

"I wouldn't know, you shall need to ask Balian," Mellie answered after a moment. "I only arrived here in Rhemuth a couple of weeks before you did. Before Prince Rémy's forces arrived in Candor Rhea, I lived in the hunting lodge where Master Devyn found you. But Balian has been here since February."

Lucie risked a quick glance up at her before returning her attention to her meal. "He lives with his father now?"

Mellie gave a humorless chuckle. "He lives with the other pages at the Page School dormitory. His father is newly married; I doubt Princess Catherine wants my son quite that much underfoot."

"At least she seems kindly enough disposed towards him and your little girls. And towards you," Lucie said shyly.

"Yes. She has been surprisingly generous." Mellie had to admit that much, in all fairness. She was not entirely sure she could have been equally so, had their situations been reversed.

"Was it a love match, you and your Prince?" Lucie asked quietly, sympathy in her eyes. "If so, I envy you."

Mellie's eyes shot to her face. "It is, but no, really you mustn't! It's the most painful thing in the world, loving someone so and never truly having him." She took a shuddery sigh. "You don't think too badly of me, then? I was so worried that you would."

Lucie smiled sadly. "Ned and I were meant to wed in July, but we were betrothed in April. I told him we ought to wait until the wedding, but he managed to charm his way under my skirts by May. Men can be persuasive like that." She sighed.

Mellie thought back to what Lucie had told her about how far along her pregnancy was. "Lucie, is there any chance that you could be carrying Ned's child instead of Prince Rémy's?"

Lucie's eyes filled with tears. "I asked the Healer that, and he thinks the baby was conceived sometime during the week of the Harrowing, within a day or two either way. So there's no way to tell for certain, since the last time I lay with Ned was just two days before he died. Healer James said he couldn't sense that my child is Deryni, so there's cause for hope, but he also said that sometimes a Deryni can have a human child, especially if his bloodline is not very strong and the mother is human, so there's no way to know for sure until he's born around the middle of March."

#

September 5, 1464
The Southern Sea
Off the coast of Llannedd
Late afternoon

Captain Henry Merivale, captain of the royal flagship Queen of Heaven,  gazed westward as he sailed past the southern coast of Llannedd, having just left the port of Pwyllheli a few hours earlier. They would sail as far as the port of Seerhowy in Howicce before turning back towards the Eirian, for that was the section of coastline the ships under his command had been assigned to patrol.

They had received the King's message regarding the Eistenmarcker fleet's plan just a few days earlier, and all sailors on deck were keeping more stringent than usual watch on the horizon looking for enemy ships that might be attempting to slip past their patrol, but thus far none had been spotted. Merivale hoped for a very boring afternoon and evening as well.

Evidently he'd hoped too soon. Within mere minutes of this wishful thought, a call from the crow's nest caused everyone to stare out into the distance towards where the sailor on watch was pointing. Captain Merivale trained his spyglass in that direction, at first spotting nothing but the usual glints of sunlight on the sea swells, but after several long moments he thought he saw the faintest of shimmers on the horizon. He tried to think where he had seen something similar before, but it took him a minute longer to recall an occasion years earlier, when he'd been a young cabin boy on a ship that had sailed down the Jamin Straits. On a particularly hot day when he had been on deck hoping for a cooling breeze to ease his misery, he had seen a similar shimmer rising from the desert sands of the Anviller coast. But the coastal waters off Llannedd and Howicce were no desert realm.

The enemy ship, if that was what it was, was still some distance out. Merivale called all men to battle stations anyway, since with the prevailing winds and current, they would be closing in on the mysterious shimmering spot soon. His first mate, Simon de Courcy, sent out the orders to the rest of the ships in their battle group.

Within the hour, they were engaged with the enemy ships, fighting for their lives. What they could not see, occupied as they were, was a second flotilla of enemy ships stealthily bypassing the sea battle to continue past the Llanneddan coast towards the mouth of the Eirian.

#

September 6, 1464
Near the confluence of the Eirian and Lendour rivers
St. Joseph's Cathedral
Nyford
Late evening

Perin of Nyford, bell ringer at the Cathedral of St. Joseph in Nyford, climbed up into the bell tower to ring the bells for Vespers. As he gazed out upon the city, admiring the gleam of the setting sun over the rooftops of Nyford and the silvery ribbons of the Lendour and Eirian Rivers merging together in the distance, an unexpected sight filled him with dismay. At the Nyford docks, dozens of ships began to appear, not as most ships did, slowly sailing up the Eirian from the Southern Sea, but as if they had somehow been there already, ready to dock but concealed behind a curtain, and that curtain had suddenly been swept away.

They were difficult to see, especially from his vantage point at the heart of the city, for they appeared to have been painted an odd shade of blue from the tops of their masts down to the waterline, if not below it. But even with such a camouflaging color, it would have been hard to miss that many ships sailing up the Eirian.

And yet, somehow they had. Perin watched in horror as men, tiny as ants, boiled forth from the ship. Various dockside buildings soon began to blaze.

Instead of ringing the bells for Vespers, Perin sounded the alarum.

#

September 7, 1464
Near the confluence of the Eirian and Llanarfon rivers
Free Port of Concaradine
Late evening

Bishop Martin of Evering, Chancellor of the University of Concaradine, spotted the approaching ships with a sense of misgiving. Ships arrived in and departed from the Free Port of Concaradine constantly, so why these particular new arrivals should make him uneasy, he could not fathom. There were a great many of them arriving all at once, perhaps that was why, although the lead ship appeared to be flying Gwyneddan colors. The ships alongside it looked to be of some other sort, although Martin somehow had managed to learn little about shipping, despite living in Concaradine for nearly half his life. He had as little to do as possible with the commercial end of the port city, preferring the more scholarly pursuits to be found at the University side of town around the Cathedral close.

He did not like the look of these ships, though. He liked them even less when he began to hear distant shouts and cries of alarm, and a red glow began to grow next to the river.

Perhaps this was less a time for his books and more a time for action. Racing down the stairs, he raced into the nearby stables to summon the head groom, relating what he had seen from his tower window and urging him to ride with all haste to inform the King at Rhemuth of what was happening.

#

September 8, 1464
The Green Barrel
Near the dockyards
Desse
Late afternoon

Old Nan was fed up. One of her barmaids had just quit earlier that morning, her assistant cook had a stomach ailment and was too busy puking up his guts in the back garden privy to lend her a hand with that night's meal she was trying to prepare, the spit boy hadn't shown up yet to turn the meat on the spit, the baker's lad was late again with his delivery, and now through the closed kitchen door she could hear the sounds of some sort of brawl breaking out in the common room of the tavern.

Grabbing up one of her iron frying pans, she threw open the door and strode into the room, coming face to face with a long-haired, bearded giant of a man who was absolutely tearing up the place. The blond, lightly-armored man lifted up his sword, but Nan was having none of his nonsense. She flailed wildly with the pan, smacking the sword blade out of the way before slamming it down on her assailant's head. Served the git right for not wearing his helmet!

As more men in similar gear started to pour into the tavern, Nan vaguely realized they were all rowdier than her usual sort of clientele, and the locals who frequented the Green Barrel tended to be a rough lot to begin with. One of the newer arrivals carried a torch. He babbled something to the others in a strange tongue, and they began making free with crates of bottles and barrels of her best spirits and port. It finally dawned on her that her business was being attacked by some of those enemy invaders she had heard rumors about.

She threw the pan at the torch bearer's head. It was her last conscious act before she exited this mortal plane, but it gave her a savage sense of satisfaction.

#

September 8, 1464
The Palace at Horthánthy
The Île d'Orsal

This was Devyn McLain's third visit to the beautiful harbor town of Horthánthy, which in his humble opinion was one of the most lovely places he had ever seen, with its gleaming white stucco buildings and verdigris-coated domed rooftops lining its winding roadway that meandered up the sides of Zöldhegy, the great hill atop which the three-tiered summer palace sat. He had left his horse stabled at the foot of the high hill, for horse traffic was not permitted in the highest levels of the Île,  and had instead paid for one of the hand-drawn jinrikisha  to convey him the rest of the way to the arched Palace gates.

Now he sat in the Palace's rooftop garden park enjoying a light repast of sweet pastries and qahwa  with Orsal and Tralia's Queen, arguably even more lovely than Horthánthy, and wishing he looked a little less scruffy for the occasion. No matter, Miranda had certainly seen him looking much worse.

The former Haldane princess looked anxiously across the Twin River Strait towards the distant coast of Corwyn. "How is Cinhil?" she asked.

"Not well." He wished he dared to extend a hand of comfort across the table, but he suspected the Hort would take a dim view of another man holding his wife's hand, even though Adémar of Orsal was well aware the Queen's guest had known her since her childhood. "I am not at all certain he will make it through the month. Under normal circumstances, I would urge you to go home to be with him, but right now would definitely not be a safe time for a visit home. I think I barely managed to make it out  of the Kingdom safely as it was."

She nodded, tears in her eyes. "I know. One of Adémar's intelligencers was able to get back here from Concaradine yesterday night. The eastern side of the town next to the river is ablaze. By now I imagine the enemy has made it as far as Desse, possibly even to the walls of Rhemuth. I would risk going anyway, since even if Rhemuth is under siege, I could easily make a Portal jump into and back out of the Castle itself with the enemy none the wiser, but my husband won't allow it. I think he was none too pleased that I stayed so long the last time I was there, especially since I was carrying his heir at the time."

"So I heard. Congratulations on the new Prince! What is his name?"

Miranda smiled. "Létald Kelliam Rogan Josse. Rather a mouthful for such a little tyke, I realize." At Devyn's slightly upraised eyebrow, she swiftly added, "They're all old von Horthy names, I know, but if we have more sons, Adémar has said I might name one after Cinhil, at least as a middle name."

That wasn't exactly Devyn's cause for concern. He hoped it wouldn't occur to Miranda's husband that 'Josse' also sounded extremely similar to the shortened form of the Duke of Corwyn's name. Then again, hopefully the Hort was unaware that Duke Joscelin had ever been a serious rival for Miranda's affections.

As if reading his mind (which he knew she hadn't been, because Devyn would have been well aware of her psychic touch if she had), Miranda asked, "What of the other parts of the Kingdom? From what our sailing crews have seen and what little we can tell from here, Corwyn doesn't appear to have been so badly affected, but of course we only have a view of their coastline."

"It was harried pretty badly along the mountain ranges," Devyn informed her, "especially farther up north close to Derry. But that was more towards the earlier part of the war. Lately, the Corwyn and Beldourian troops have been closer to the central plains, beyond Lendour and more towards the heart of the duchy of Haldane. They helped relieve Ramos when it fell under siege a little after midsummer. But the kingdom has been hit very hard. Even if Rhemuth withstands a siege, this is going to be a very rough winter unless the enemy decides to retreat. There's some hope that they will, since our field laborers have been doing their best to bring in their crops and livestock at the first signs of the enemy, if not before, and at least in those towns that were able to keep them out, the enemy forces were unable to reprovision and had to move on to more fertile fields. Rhemuth is well prepared for a siege, so they might well starve their besiegers out if they can just hang in there long enough."

"But if they leave, they'll be returning to lands that have had bountiful harvests in the meantime, restoring their health and strength to try again next spring, after Gwynedd has suffered a winter of famine, or at least very sparse rations." Miranda sighed.

"That is actually why I am here," Devyn said. "Cinhil sent me to see if our allies here on the southern side of the sea might be able to help with that."

Miranda nodded. "I think I can persuade Adémar to commit some of our winter stores to our allies. Tralia had a very productive harvest this year. He'll likely want to wait until the siege on Rhemuth is lifted before he sends them there, but maybe some can be delivered to Coroth to be distributed from there instead. I think he wants to keep most of our ships fairly close to our home shores as much as possible right now, since Renier's Jouvian fleet has nearly doubled in size since early spring."

That was not great news, but also not unexpected. "Cinhil has a mission for me in Joux as well," Devyn said, "which is obviously quite apart from the fundraising I'm meant to be doing for him in other parts of the Forcinn or the Bremagni states. If I happen to hear anything that would be of particular interest to the Hort, I will do my best to circle back here, though I might need to travel through Thuria or Logréine in order to do so safely. Or at least as safely as any travel can be managed these days."

"That would be appreciated." Miranda stood, offering Devyn her hand. "I look forward to seeing you again whenever it can be safely managed. My lady Jesaminda will see you out; my son should be waking up very soon, and I'm afraid he's a bit inclined to fuss if his needs aren't being met immediately."

Much like your husband,  Devyn thought as he bowed over Her Hortic Majesty's hand, but was careful not to say aloud. From the amused gleam in Miranda's eyes, he imagined she'd picked up on the thought anyway.


Next chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3256.0.html

[revanne]

I approve of old Nan. I'm sad she didn't make it away but at least she didn't go quietly.

[Evie]

I approve of old Nan. I'm sad she didn't make it away but at least she didn't go quietly.

I figured the Fierce Wild Priest would approve. 

[revanne]

I did have my suspicions about the name.

[Evie]

I did have my suspicions about the name.

*Innocent whistling* 😂

[DerynifanK]

They say it's darkest before the dawn. This is pretty dark so I'm hoping for dawn soon.
Good for Old Nan! She may not have survived but she made em pay!

[Evie]

They say it's darkest before the dawn. This is pretty dark so I'm hoping for dawn soon.
Good for Old Nan! She may not have survived but she made em pay!

Yup, she was a feisty one!

We're drawing close to the final quarter of the story, and a major turning point is coming up soon. That said, there is still quite a bit of darkness up ahead, and even once we hit the first turning point, just because the dawn will be in sight then doesn't mean it's going to suddenly spring into noonday brightness. But you should see it steadily growing lighter in that last quarter (albeit with a few lingering shadows here and there) until we've reached the full sunlight at the end of the story.

[drakensis]

I suspect a certain member of the duchess-princess' entourage may make a fuss about that ribbon.

It does seem that Gwynedd is struggling more than I would think it ought, given it's a rather large kingdom. Certainly there are two kingdoms fighting them, but Nordmarcke at least I would think to be considerably smaller in territory and numbers.

Granted they're on the defense and magic is being used to give more advantage to the attacker, but weight of numbers alone should be on the side of Gwynedd. At the least, in Cinhil's place I'd have had some of the border lords hitting back into Nordmarcke to get Torval's vassals worried about the safety of their own lands and inclined not to reinforce their king more than they have to.

Narratively, it's a very appropriate level of peril, it just twitches at the wargamer part of my brain.

[Evie]

I suspect a certain member of the duchess-princess' entourage may make a fuss about that ribbon.

It does seem that Gwynedd is struggling more than I would think it ought, given it's a rather large kingdom. Certainly there are two kingdoms fighting them, but Nordmarcke at least I would think to be considerably smaller in territory and numbers.

Granted they're on the defense and magic is being used to give more advantage to the attacker, but weight of numbers alone should be on the side of Gwynedd. At the least, in Cinhil's place I'd have had some of the border lords hitting back into Nordmarcke to get Torval's vassals worried about the safety of their own lands and inclined not to reinforce their king more than they have to.

Narratively, it's a very appropriate level of peril, it just twitches at the wargamer part of my brain.

Oh yes, if a certain member of the Princess's entourage discovers that ribbon has managed to return to its previous owner, she would absolutely come unglued. Care to bet on whether that will eventually happen? 😅

Re: the enemy forces, there are three kingdoms allied against Gwynedd, not two. Joux isn't huge (though it's at least twice the size that it was in Kelson's day, having absorbed Vezaire), but it has contributed several thousand soldiers to the war effort overall, not just the initial number of men at arms that accompanied Rémy to Nördmarcke. Nördmarcke and Eistenmarcke also have sent substantial numbers of fighting men, plus they have the advantage of being able to use magical defenses and cloaking that the Gwyneddan forces don't really understand well enough to be able to create effective countermeasures against yet. They are working on it but are just now starting to make a little bit of headway. But until recently, it's been a big cat and mouse game in which our side has been chasing at shadows and only occasionally managing to catch up with the enemy before too much damage has been done.

There might be some border skirmishes on either side of the Gwynedd/Nördmarcke border, but Eistenmarcke has established a very strong occupying force in the entire Kheldour/Rhendall/Claiborne region that is very willing and able to catch any Gwyneddan forces venturing into that northeast border area in a pincer grip between their new territory of Vestermarcke and NW Nördmarcke. Up until recently, that occupied territory is where Ingrid has mostly been lurking, but now that she's on the move, that might provide more magical protection for her southern forces moving towards Rhemuth, but it also makes her more vulnerable.

Nördmarcke might be roughly half the size of Gwynedd in territory, but it's mostly arable plains, from the look of the map, assuming there are smaller creeks or other water sources not shown on the map rather than all of that being desert or frozen tundra (which I don't think they are far enough north for). Gwynedd, on the other hand, has smaller portions of easily habitable farmland with a crap ton of mountain ranges all over the place. So I suspect the population of the two kingdoms isn't all that disparate despite Gwynedd looking bigger in area, especially once you add in the numbers of their allies, plus I'm pretty sure Eistenmarcke extends into some of the white portion of the map as well.

[DerynifanK]

If Corwyn's Duke hi is successful in driving Torval's forces into the trap and Colin attacks them and inflicts heavy damage which I certainly hope he does that should make a significant difference in the balance of forces. Also, I don't think Torval is as committed to the alliance since  Haakon's attack on Cecile. He might surrender a bit more easily. I hope the Gwyneddans catch Ingrid and throw that leather bag over her head, robbing her of her magic. My goodness, so much happening. Rooting for Gwynedd.

[Evie]

If Corwyn's Duke hi is successful in driving Torval's forces into the trap and Colin attacks them and inflicts heavy damage which I certainly hope he does that should make a significant difference in the balance of forces. Also, I don't think Torval is as committed to the alliance since  Haakon's attack on Cecile. He might surrender a bit more easily. I hope the Gwyneddans catch Ingrid and throw that leather bag over her head, robbing her of her magic. My goodness, so much happening. Rooting for Gwynedd.

Poor Eistenmarcke! No one ever roots for them. 

Torval isn't committed to the alliance and has never really been, aside from needing his allies over the short term to help him achieve his goals. However, he is still committed to his original goals, even if he is beginning to think maybe it would be more realistic to consider them long term goals rather than short term ones.

Joss might be able to maneuver Torval into his trap, or he might not. Always in motion is the future, saith Master Yoda, and particularly when dealing with a wily opponent. But whatever happens, it seems very likely our heroes will encounter him again at some point in the relatively near future.