An Excerpt From Lord Markand’s Histories Of Magick and Strange Events.

Lord Markand drank his tea and wondered when and how he began to endure Scribe Daniels. Every morning the business of the district was marked by this peevish man. Markand questioned his thought that it was only because of Alan. Brigg Markand was a learned man of the people and he knew that he could endure the scribe. Unlike his father, he was capable enough to have a choice though. Damned if the man purposely made errors just to test him. He had to admit that this was better than training a new scribe, even if he had to read after the man.

The Scribe finished reading. “Thus marks the days business for the Highland’s district with a reading of the invitation of King Arnold to join him in Cathar City.”

On realizing what was said Lord Markand nearly choked on his black tea and cream. Interrupting the peevish soft man. “Scribe you may not refer to the King as King Arnold in our documents, He is to be called King Thrax.”

Scribe Daniels cast a face of exasperation then steeled himself with patience. “Yes Sire, that is how you and Castalan Alan referred to him” adding after a pause “King Thrax I mean.”

Markand tried to be generous and wondered if Daniels was being purposely obtuse. Then he cleared his throat and spoke in a slightly forced pleasant tone, “You may hear the use of many names for the King but in writing, he must always appear the same respected and wise ruler, King Thrax.

“So he is to be Respected and Wise Ruler King Thrax?”

Markand shook his head, “No just King Thrax!” That is to say, he is respected and wise but we shall refer to him NOT as King Arnold, but as King Thrax, in writing.” Brigg thought about this for a minute realizing that the Castalan’s little joke was too difficult for Peevish Man. They had taken to calling the man King Arnold, having heard that this would usually anger the normally calm demeanor of his Majesty.

Scribe Daniels dipped his quill and struck through the word Arnold and wrote Thrax in the margin of the otherwise perfect page. As he did this Markand reflected his blank affect.

Markand had been thinking of high taxes and levies for the King. As peevish quill scritched across the page Markand shifted to thinking that Ian should be to the Valley by now. He had sent the man to explore with a fine horse. This Valley that at one time could send a thousand men to troop as levy for the King’s Army. Now the Valley was just one Headman in charge of ten farming families in what was little more than a village much less one town in three.

The Scribe cleared his throat and Markand reflected on peevishness above and below. “Yes, Yes Scribe Daniels that covers the summary of Yesterday, Please show the corrected copy to Castalan Alan before tomorrow and enter it into the book.” Markand motioned for the Scribe to leave and added, “Send the Castalan in as you pass and I will see you after lunch.”

Scribe Daniels for his part carefully stoppered the ink and placed the bottle and quill in a box for writing instruments, then closed the Vellum he was writing on carefully in another wide box. He could cut it into strips and feed it to birds later when he was done carefully transcribing the Lord’s daily record.

Markand drank his tea in big gulps waiting for the Castalan. Alan entered glancing at the Scribe then passed an entertained look at Markand. For the scribe's sake, Alan said, “Good morning Lord Markand, I stand ready to give you reports for castle and town business.”

Lord Markand watched Daniels close the door.

Markand waited a few more seconds and simply started, “Good morning Alan, I trust no major surprises overnight?” Alan shook his head and sat, Markand continued, “Ian should be in the Valley today, where is the meeting scheduled with the merchants' issue?”

Alan smiled at his battle brother and responded, “I am sure Ian will do fine but we need more like him, the merchants will meet for dinner.” Alan watched Brigg’s face and asked, “How was Daniels today?”

Markand’s shrug was not encouraging but Alan was not worried yet. He watched Markand drain his cup and look out the window. Minutes passed as the two men considered the warm spring weather. Markand began, “Daniels will be fine, I am more concerned with the status of the Highlands. I think it is safe to say in our confidence that this district was not meant to grow as much as it was meant to forestall the Plains People. I intend this meeting with the merchants to begin the process of winnowing out the less ambitious of the …” Markand paused and then finished, “traffickers.”

Alan raised an eyebrow, “Is that tea you are drinking?”

Markand looked back at Alan and smiled and began the process of making another cup available from the tray on his desk. “Well, Delia would frown if it was ale.” The smile was dismissed, “The Highlands can’t continue like this. We have too few to harvest the resources and what is made ready is not bringing enough to make the people happy. We are impoverished in willing men."

Alan sat back with his cup testing the heat of it. “So the sudden interest in the Valley is not just because Gillis told you the story about the dragons? You want that county to grow our ranks again.”

Markand let his expression sour slightly and met Alan’s eyes. “War is always a consideration but the word ranks implies that we have not passed beyond this. We must grow the peace or if you prefer expand the war to include our families, supply and training. My study of curious stories aside we must be able to deny the austerity imposed by our allies, enemies and even nature. That will mean doing new things with new understanding.”

Alan considered for a while and nodded with a shared resolute style recognized from a friendship of nearly thirty years.