The knock on his door was tentative, almost as if the person on the other side was hopeful Baron Lughar was either still asleep or already out of the room. Lughar chuckled to himself. He'd been up since dawn dealing with some correspondence at the small desk. "Come in, Joscelyn. I'm awake."

The door opened and a gray haired man stepped into the room and bowed. "Are these rooms satisfactory, milord Lughar?"

"Actually, they are as good as my own at Suffolk. But this is the fabled Camelot, is it not?" He tossed his quill pen on the table with disgust. "You can't go ten minutes without someone, even a peasant, boasting about its wonders."

"It was the home of Arthur and his court. The legends---"

"That's all this place is now, Joscelyn: a legend. It sleeps in the sun, dreaming of its past."

"Yet, sire, it's withstood every attempt to conquer it. Lord Blackhawke is a knight of great renown and honor."

"Then he should have set about expanding Camelot's borders." Lughar stood up and paced back and forth, arms folded across his chest. He was only a few years younger than his secretary, yet his hair was still black, his body trim, and his manner energetic. He glanced at Joscelyn as he turned and walked back towards him. "Well? Any word on the woman?"

"None. This Moire Devon was treated for a blow to the head after she was found unconscious in the chapel. The same chapel, I might add, that Lady Annalise was rumored to have been taken from by force. Word from some of the waterfront taverns the men visited last night was that it was her accomplice who took the child and then lost her."

"What of him?"

"Gone as well, sire. The girl…your daughter was found by a man named Zellan, a warrior from Stormdragon Keep and another man, Sir Ascellon."

Lughar stopped, his gaze leveled in full on Joscelyn. "So where in blazes is she, hmm? I could feel her. The damn spell that has kept her hidden from me all these years is lifted, and still she eludes me. What of Seraine; not a word of her either, I suppose?"

Joscelyn chose his words carefully. The comment about the spell once again drove home the rumor that Lughar had more than ordinary means at his disposal to deal with his enemies. Some said his mother had been a witch. Joscelyn had no intentions of confirming the rumors with his own person. "The maiden Seraine has been seen in the Hall occasionally. The servants are most reluctant to answer any of our questions about her. I'm afraid they still harbor some ill-will towards you for your words of the other eve."

"Louts!" Lughar sat angrily on the edge of his bed. "And still no one has come for the gold with information?"

"Not a soul, milord. Apparently the Commander of the Black Watch, a Blackthorn, had kept her under close watch, confined most times to the castle grounds. Some of the folk have heard of Annalise, but it seems none actually know her."

"Can we bribe this Blackthorn?"

"I seriously recommend against it. My informants tell me his commitment to Camelot is total. And he is half-elven himself; even without his code, he would sympathize with your daughter."

Lughar sprang to his feet. "Damn it all! Is there not just one dishonest man in all of Camelot? Or are they all saints and paragons of virtue?" He began pacing the room again. "I want them found, Joscelyn. I want my daughter, and I want that damn Seraine."

"Yes, milord. There is one other bit of news that might be important. Seraine is betrothed to this Zellan fellow. I suggest we change our queries and ask rather about the man's movements. I cannot believe Seraine would be willingly separated from the child. If Zellan leads us to Seraine, he most like would lead us to the child as well."

"An astute thought. Do it." He crossed to the desk, and handed Joscelyn a packet. "Send this to the usual message drop for the Assassin's Guild. I want my money back that I advanced the Devon woman. She failed to complete the contract."

The secretary gave a hard swallow. "Are you sure that's wise, milord?"

"She failed me, Joscelyn. I suggest you not do the same. I do not take failure very well."

The old man bowed, and backed quickly out of the room. Lughar turned away from the door and walked over to gaze out the window, the semblance of humanity falling away to reveal drow features.

"I will find you, daughter." He gave a hard smile at the peaceful scene below him.

"Da's here."

8/01


Lughar Series: Part II

Lughar watched Joscelyn approach him with amusement. The man obviously expected him to be less than pleased with whatever news he was bringing. Lughar shifted his position a bit, settling his back in a slightly more spot against the tree he was sitting under. "What is it, Joscelyn?"

The man coughed slightly. "The second rider has returned, milord. There were none at the first two villages he came upon who recall seeing the young man traveling with a young woman and a child matching the description of Mistress Seraine or young Mistress Annalise."

"Sit down, Joscelyn, I'll put a crick in my neck staring up at you." Lughar patted the ground next to him, inwardly chortling as his secretary's face paled. "Oh, for mercy's sake, sit, Joscelyn!" And as the man obeyed, the Baron smiled. His father had taught him well: Never do the expected.

*********

Eudo of Normandy had been the youngest of four sons, and had he been of a more docile nature, might have been destined for the sedate life of a monk. But he'd been a rake and a hellion from his childhood, and it soon became clear he was not cut out for a cleric's life. He was, however, quite adept at the arts of war, and so like many other younger sons of nobles, set out when he was knighted to win his fortune with his sword. He wanted to one day have more lands and gold than the older bothers he had envied all his life. He went out to fight the Moors in Spain, vowing to return a wealthy man.

But when he did finally come home, all he brought with him was a dark Moorish wife, and two young sons. Rima, the wife, was a small thing and dainty, and seldom left the rooms given to Eudo for his family. On those occasions when she did leave them, she was robed and veiled in the Moorish style. Rumors said she found the colder clime of Normandy hard on her health, as it was on that of Eustace, the younger child. The elder, Lughar, seemed hale enough, but Rima kept both her sons close, and the few times any thought of the boy it was with a bit of smug pity. The landless son of a landless knight, they thought, and then moved on to juicier topics for gossip.

None ever suspected the true nature of Eudo's wife, or what harsh lessons she was teaching her boys in the privacy she so carefully maintained.

Rima the Moor was Rima the Drow, and her children, especially her eldest, were apt pupils. Nor were she and Eudo pitiful hangers-on, content to get by on the scraps and charity his eldest brother afforded them. No, they had other plans, and in the safety of their rooms the pair plotted to kill Eudo's older bother and take the family demesne for his own. The women who clucked their tongues at "poor Rima" would not have known the drow burning with an ambition that matched Eudo's, or who taught Lughar his first lessons in weaponry with toy swords. And then, just scant days before the couple was set to launch their scheme into action, a messenger rode into the castle, and new and grander plans were made.

Duke William of Normandy was about to invade England, and he needed men. There were lands to be won, and fortunes to be made, and Eudo and Rima were sure theirs was among them. At Rima's advice, Eudo stayed close to the Duke, and when William the Bastard at last became William the Conqueror, King of England, Eudo was rewarded with the Suffolk lands for his service to the Crown.

*********

"…and they say the French banner was found by the dead men."

Lughar waved a hand at that. "Deception. You don't bring a flag with you to leave behind after a raid. Although I'd be amazed if any in Camelot have wit enough to see that."

They'd spent another hour sitting in the shade of the tree awaiting the last scout's return engaged in a halting conversation concerning the recent events in France and the news about some mercenary's victories. Joscelyn had a sharp mind, and once he forgot his fear of Lughar he was pleasant enough company. The Baron watched the man's face as he considered what his master had said and then nodded in agreement. Joscelyn was nearly at an age where he would no longer be able to keep up with the rigorous pace of speed Lughar functioned at, but he was too valuable to be allowed to simply retire. There was a small estate that had fallen into disrepair with the death of its owner; Joscelyn was just the man to bring it back to a profitable state. Lughar made mental note of the notion.

"Rider's coming!" Joscelyn pointed up the third road that split off from the crossroads they were camped at. "I'll go see what news he brings." He started to get up, but the Baron reached out and stopped him.

"No need, Joscelyn. He'll have found the same as the first two men. 'Yes, we know Zellan. No, we've not seen the woman or the girl.' " Indeed, the rider looked over at Lughar and the secretary and merely shook his head. "There, you see? No need to bestir yourself."

"You knew it was a trick?"

"I suspected as much. But let our noble Camelot friends think I swallowed the bait."

Joscelyn stirred uneasily, and then froze as Lughar laughed. "What will you do now, milord? Send for more men and search Camelot by force?"

Lughar shook his head, leaned back once more against the tree and grinned. "That is what they expect me to do. No, we wait here a few more hours and return quietly to Camelot." He crossed his arms over his chest, closed his eyes and smiled as he spoke. "Let them worry about the anger they expect."

"We will do what they don't expect."

10/01


Lughar Series: Part III

Joscelyn finished one document, waved it slowly in the air to dry the ink, then set it down and reached for a fresh sheet of parchment. Baron Lughar was off at court over his daughter, and for a few brief blessed hours the secretary had the peace and quiet to catch up on the mountain of correspondence. Lughar was constantly tossing off one thought after another, directives to his staff, messages to allies, or just reminders to himself, all of which he expected Joscelyn to take care of on his own. At least, at Suffolk, there would have been the help of his apprentices.

"Joscelyn!"

The secretary cringed inwardly, then methodically set about the precaution of closing the inkhorn and setting safely aside his quills and parchments. If Lughar was enraged, the nearest loose objects usually was fair game for being hurled about the room. He'd barely finished when the door that separated his small room from the Baron's larger suite crashed open and Lughar barreled through.

"Joscelyn!"

And then the older man was witness to a sight he had never would have thought possible. Lughar began doing a sprightly jig around the room, laughing softly all the while.

"Milord? What is it?"

Lughar laughed a final time, then stopped, leaning his back against a wall as he folded his arms over his chest. "It went splendidly, splendidly! I was the aggrieved father to perfection! And your suggestion about my withdrawing the accusations against Seraine and Zellan was the perfect stroke, my old friend! You were right; they are barely that much older than my daughter. It's easy to see where sympathies lie about here. Trying to paint them as criminals would have availed me nothing. No, this is much better. I looked the distraught father, remorseful over lashing out at innocent young people who had done their best to care for my poor lost Annalise."

"And that worked? " Joscelyn was hard-pressed to keep his voice from rising in astonishment on that last word. He couldn't picture Lughar as remorseful over anything.

"Like a charm. Oh, you should have seen it! The two of them were ready to tear me apart with their bare hands if they had been allowed. The husband-to-be might be a tougher opponent than I first believed if it ever comes down to armed combat. Oh, and the noble Captain Blackthorn, I could see it in his eyes, he knew, he knew what I was doing, and that he had no way to stop it. Wonderful!" He chuckled again at the memory.

Joscelyn by now was completely astounded. "So, what did the Judge rule? Did he give Annalise back to you?"

"No, unfortunately, it was not as wonderful as that. But this Justice, MorningLord, denied the adoption for the moment. Better yet, he has ruled that I may visit with Annalise two days a week for a month, with the last week being one in which I shall have custody."

"And this is good?"

"Very good indeed. I will have the chance to win Annalise over and not break one single law of Camelot! I will play the law-abiding, doting father for all it's worth. Think, Joscelyn, think! I cannot lose!"

"I'm sorry, milord, but I don't see…."

Lughar walked over to set a hand on the man's shoulder. "It's simple. If I win Annalise over, I win. The baron wins back the love of his daughter. Heartwarming, isn't it? Meanwhile, word spreads of it and my reputation is enhanced, and inquiries are made about the hand of my newly returned child in an alliance by marriage. I win again."

"And if you don't win her over, milord? How is that good?"

"Why, Joscelyn! Poor me! I've done all I could by Camelot's laws, and still they take my daughter away from me to be raised on a farm, for mercy's sake!" Lughar gave a mock sigh of despair, then laughed. "There are very few nobles in Britain that would blame me if I simply took her and brought her home. I would win there, as well. But before I did that I would exhaust all my other options. There are many ways to bend someone to your will, you know"

Joscelyn didn't want to know what they were. He found this mood of Lughar's disquieting. "Ah. I see. Well, I am happy my suggestion was helpful."

"More than helpful, Joscelyn. In fact, I am rewarding you! There's a small holding that I am going to bestow on you when we return home. You can retire to it with my thanks. How does that sound?"

The secretary couldn't believe his ears. His eyes blurred with tears of relief. "Oh, thank you, milord Baron!"

Lughar gave Joscelyn's shoulder a squeeze. "It's deserved. You've been with me longer than any of your predecessors. But, back to the business at hand. Did the messenger to Suffolk bring back what I require?"

"Aye, milord. It's waiting for you back in your suite."

"Excellent! I don't know what I will do without you, Joscelyn!" He gave the man a slap on the back and then walked out the door.

Then, and only then, did Joscelyn Fournier, the only one of the Baron's personal secretaries who had not been injured seriously while in his service, allow himself to relax. A holding to retire to was his deliverance. Then he frowned, reaching over to retrieve his tools.

It was indeed a dream come true if he survived long enough.

He murmured a prayer to the Virgin to allow Lughar to win his daughter over so they could all leave Camelot peacefully, and then went back to work.

10/01


Lughar Series: Part IV

Lughar remained in a good mood for several more days, as the court decision was followed shortly afterwards by a meeting with Annalise in Camelot's hall. His daughter had been accompanied by the man, Zellan, and at first hesitant and shy. But the gifts Lughar gave her had softened her a hostility a bit, and the expressions on Zellan's face as he watched them had been priceless. Yes, definite progress had been made.

But that had been over a week ago, and still no word from Seraine about the scheduling of visits. Lughar toyed with the idea of reporting this to the Lord Justice, but after a few moments of thought, decided to wait a bit longer. As much as he would have taken great pleasure in having the Black Watch haul Mistress Dunlevi off to the goal, he knew such action would perhaps widen the rift with his daughter way beyond repair. No, better to hold off on that a while longer. Besides, Seraine might take it into her head to try to flee with the child once more, and that would have additional consequences to savor.

For now, Lughar took to amusing himself by strolling around the castle and the city of Camelot, Joscelyn in tow, the secretary committing to memory the Baron's asides and observations for transfer to parchment when they returned to their rooms.

One crisp October morning found them on yet another walk about Camelot city. Joscelyn reveled in the early autumn sun, the blue sky overhead, and the occasional glimpse of the darker blue sea as they passed streets leading to the waterfront. Lughar seemed more interested in the Merchants Quarter they walked through, watching with a slight smile as master and apprentices hustled about them. His companion saw that look with a bit of apprehension; a smile on Lughar's face often didn't bode well. But the baron continued on pleasantly enough until a bend in the street led them suddenly out into the wider area of the Marketplace.

"I'm hungry!" he announced, and strode purposefully through the crowd to the booth of a pastry vendor they'd bought food from before. Lughar handed the woman a few coppers for two meatpies wrapped in old parchment, and gave one to Joscelyn as they walked away. He pointed to a section of a low wall. "Let's eat these over there, heh?" And for the next few minutes, they sat and ate in a companionable silence broken only by a few comments on how delicious the meatpies were. Lughar wiped gravy from his chin with a laugh and then licked crumbs off his fingers like a young boy.

It was times like these, when Joscelyn caught these rare glimpses of the man Lughar could have been, that the secretary almost forgot the cruelty his liege was capable of showing.

Almost.

Soon enough the pies were finished, the parchment wrappers crumpled and cast aside and Lughar crossed his arms. "Look at them." He nodded at the crowd around them with his chin. "They must not tax them enough here. They're entirely too happy, don't you think? " He turned to grin again at Joscelyn.

At that moment, Joscelyn thought a few things. He thought Camelot was a wondrous place; it's people the most pleasant he had encountered in quite some time. He thought that Suffolk could have happy people too, if there were any other but Lughar ruling over it. He also thought of the promised manor and so told the Baron what the Baron wanted to hear. "Without a doubt, milord."

Lughar nodded, then watched the crowd for a few minutes before speaking again in one of those changing of subjects the secretary had grown used to in his duties. "The next set of gifts for my daughter, have they arrived yet?"

"Just last eve with the dispatches from Suffolk. I've had them made ready as you instructed and they are in my room until you need them."

"Excellent. Now all we need is another visit with Annalise."

Another few minutes passed quietly before the secretary decided to ask a question he had. "That smaller item, did that belong to Mistress Annalise's mother?"

"How perceptive, Joscelyn!" He turned to regard the other man with a nod. "Aye, she had it with her the first day Eustace and I saw her. It was about this time of year, in fact. We were both quite…smitten with her."

"Ah." Joscelyn licked his lips. He knew from past experience that the subject of the departed Eustace was tricky ground. "But he died and you won her hand."

"Yes. A hunting accident took poor brother Eustace. Quite tragic." Lughar smiled. "And I won more than her hand. I won all of her." He stood and put an arm on Joscelyn's shoulder. The secretary froze like a deer, words to beg forgiveness churning in his brain. But Lughar merely steered them away from the wall and out of the far side of the market. "Joscelyn, I grow bored. I need a diversion, some entertainment. Do you know how I am going to do that?"

"N-n-n-o milord Baron."

"Have you caught a chill, Joscelyn? Your hands are trembling? I hope you aren't coming down with something, for I require your discretion."

Giving a small relieved sigh, Joscelyn looked at his master. "What is it that you require of me, milord?"

"There's my man! Actually, it's not such an unpleasant duty. I think Camelot needs to be stirred up a bit, and doing so will mightily amuse me, I do believe. I want you and a few of our guard that you are certain are trustworthy to simply carouse around the taverns a bit, and slowly, ever so discretely, make a few comments to the right people and then point their minds in the proper direction. Not so terrible, heh?"

"No, milord, not terrible at all. Who are we to make these comments to, and what are they about?"

"Joscelyn, we are about to take up the cause of the poor oppressed apprentices. Here, this is what you must say…"

As they walked off back to Camelot Castle, he leaned closer and murmured so only Joscelyn could hear.

10/01