"You did what?!" She screeched throwing a daintily painted vase at his head. Garion ducked, wincing at the crash of it shattering against the wall. He dusted clay shards off his cloak, "I must call the banners for Rawthawn. Don't you see? I will not have the country bleeding out my own damn self preservation!" Her eyes rolled wildly as she looked round for a second projectile, "How dare you..." She hissed "How dare you! Don't you care about Fauris or Koric? You are putting us all in danger!"

"You think we'll be safer when the Cranaks conquer the land?" he roared

"You think they'll be safer when your head lies on some bloody field!" She screamed, tears coursing down her cheeks. His expression softened "I'll be fine, besides, Fauris is a man grown."

"And is Koric? Is eight old enough for him too?"

"Now you're being stupid."

"No! You are! What will Lonan do? The king will not be pulled into this foolery!"

"You call all these deaths foolery?"

"You should have crushed Dorma at Yariff but where were you? Fighting at the back where no one could hurt you. You disgust me!" She sobbed and collapsed on a stool her body heaving dramatically. "That reminds me, I have decided to try and convince Lonan to name Fauris Regent after me." Garion said stiffly

"And did you come up with that all by yourself." She said sarcastically, wiping her puffy eyes with the sleeve of her gown. "What do you mean by that?" he asked

"I have been hinting at the same bloody idea for years! But no! You had to be the one who miraculously knew what to do." She muttered bitterly. "It wasn't as if Sir Rosby came up with the idea! No, it had to be you. Tell me, did you think it up before or after you crawled here roaring drunk?" Garion looked at her for a few seconds before turning to leave. "Running again? You're getting good at it!" She yelled at his retreating back. Garion didn't answer.

The guard on duty winced in sympathy at Garion as another crash resounded through the tower. Garion could only sigh as he made his way down the staircase and across the courtyard. The wind whipped at his face, its howling drowning out the noises coming from behind him. A match to win him Rawthawn! Was his uncle's plan. A lady of great beauty belonging to a family of great power! But what was house Faihr now? A shell of its former lustre, devoid of heirs, money, power... Even their ancestral home Faverhal was nothing more than ruins. Not even mentioning the fanatical creature that had become his wife.

Garion paused halfway along the courtyard, watching two boys batter each other with dull, practice blades. Fauris, at fifteen years of age, made short work of eight-year-old Koric sending him sprawling across the cobblestones. Garion made his way over and helped Koric up, smiling faintly he reminisced of the times he and Lonan had fought together. "Father," they both said, nodding their heads respectfully. "And what are you two doing out here in this weather?" Garion asked. Koric drew himself tall, his high pitched voice bubbling with pride. "Sir Rosby says a man of Rawthawn should fight in gales as much as light breezes."

"I see, and did Sir Darod allow this skirmish?" Koric hung his head shamefully and Fauris gave a sheepish smile. "He didn't say we couldn't."

"Nor did he know of it, I presume." Garion grumbled, masking his amusement with a frown. Sir Darod was the master of arms at Dunlord Keep and a ferocious man but even he, a man of worrying recklessness, would not allow the two sons of the regent out in this weather. "Go back inside, aren't you supposed to be having your history?" Garion demanded. Koric groaned and scraped his shoes upon the icy stone, "I'm never gonna use history ever ever, Why can't I just miss it?!" He whined.

"Now, Koric." Garion knelt in front of him. "I disliked history when I was younger too, but it isn't all laws and this house and that house. If I'm correct, Harrid was planning on studying the War of Air and Stone next." Garion said sympathetically. Koric lifted his sulky face, "The big'un?" he asked, interest creeping into his voice. Garion laughed,

"Yes Koric, the 'big'un'." Koric's face lit up, "Isn't that the one with the Cranak and the fires and the explosions and didn't it go on for three hundred years?" Koric said at an unintelligible speed causing Garion to laugh again. Garion watched, his eyes crinkled with amusement as a reluctant Fauris was practically dragged back inside by an extremely excited younger brother.

Garion took a different route to his children, going through a large set of double doors into the great hall. People drifted along in conversation, Lord Sopworth was feasting on what Garion presumed was a second lunch, the lord's considerable bulk filling the bench. Garion made his way over to his steward, Tomal was a respectable man who had built himself up from peasant to the Dunlord keep's master of finance, communication and other aspects of the household. He had been steward for the past decade but hadn't yet built a friendship with Garion, who found him effective but disliked his weaselly ways. "Any more messages?" Garion grunted. Tomal jerked up from the map he was studying his sharp features contorted into a polite smile through glass spectacles. "I'm afraid there has been no news since Archtun's acceptance this morning, my Regent."

"That's disappointing. How many Liege Lords have not responded?" Garion asked

"Seven, my Regent, Lady Waux, Lady Penderly, Lord Noxraft, Lord Grandolph, Lord Aderley, Lord Sondor and Lord Oswell."

"Lord Noxraft is most likely awash with mourning for his sister Lady Darwoden, and Lord Grandolph is only ten. But I would have expected the boy to seize this opportunity to bring justice to his father's killer." Garion pondered aloud. "And what of the others? Lords Aderley, Sondor and Oswell and Ladies Waux and Penderly, what reason will hinder their decision I wonder?" Garion sighed "Ruling is a guessing game as much as a gamble."

"I have sent more messengers, there is a chance they were attacked along the way. I'm afraid now all we can do is wait." Tomal said in a tone dripping with sympathy. Garion sensed the hidden sarcasm and scowled heavily before walking off. Tomal smiled insincerely and returned to his map. Garion accidently knocked into a servant who hurriedly apologised but Garion ignored him. He wanted, no, he needed wine and he needed it now.

He stormed into the counsel chambers, the timber door slamming open with a bang. Koric, Fauris and Sir Rosby almost jumped with shock. "What are you doing in here?" Garion growled

"I apologise, my lord. Young Koric had just had his history and wished to be shown the places of warfare on the map. We shall leave at once." Sir Rosby said inclining his head respectfully. Garion relaxed and softened his expression "It is no matter, I was surprised is all." He seated himself before waving at Sir Rosby "Go on, I have not heard my history in many a year."

"Of course, my regent. Now, Lord Koric what was it again you wished to see?" Sir Rosby asked. Koric gazed at the map with wide eyes, "I heard the cult of Phoom created the Farandor in a gigantic explosion!" Sir Rosby pointed at a map of the Autumn Isles,

"It is true the Farandor was created from the explosion, thus making the Autumn Isle the Autumn Isles." Koric stared at the jagged line cutting through the country before moving his gaze away, "What else?" he asked Sir Rosby impatiently. Sir Rosby thought for a second, watching Garion pour himself a chalice of wine out of the corner of his eye. "Well, there was the great burning in what is now called Rowanok, another instance of the cult of Phoom." He pointed at the map. "Over there was Blackstone keep, where the war all began."

"Any more about the cult of Phoom?" Koric interrupted.

"Well, there were multiple instances of the cult's destruction, but I suppose there are the warrens where they released the Cramagni or Ice trolls as they're commonly known."

"What about the Cranaks? They were made by the cult of Phoom weren't they?" Koric said, proud of his own knowledge. Sir Rosby saw Garion grimace at the mention of Cranaks. "Yes, they did birth the Cranaks. Over here was were they were first released into Euralias territory and here-"

"That's enough!" Garion said interrupting Sir Rosby "That's enough about the damn Cranaks, you hear me?!"

"Sorry father." Koric said sheepishly.

"Just, leave." Koric and Sir Rosby left the room, Fauris made to follow but Garion grunted "Not you." Fauris sat himself down next to Garion nervously eyeing the chalice of wine. Garion swigged from it before looking at him. "You know the king is coming?" he asked bluntly. "Yes, father." Fauris answered, wilting under the scrutiny of Garion.

"What do you think will happen to you when I die?" Garion asked.

"Uh," Fauris mumbled, unsure if that was a trick question and wondering why such a completely different topic had been brought up. "Would you like to be Regent?" Garion said finally after a prolonged silence. Fauris looked right at him "Yes," he said softly "Yes I do."

"Then you'll have to do all I say if we want to impress my brother into naming you the successor."

"Won't he name his daughter Regent after you?" Fauris asked tentatively. Garion snorted

"And wouldn't the bastard just love to do that. No, Fauris. The whole purpose of his visit is to punish his daughter. And anyway, my brother tends to frown on female rulers. We can arrange a tourney, we can teach you the skills and the words to win favour, but you'll have to work on them. And you will work on them, because every goddamn Lord of Rawthawn wants you to. I want you to."

"I will work hard, father." Fauris muttered. Garion poured himself more wine, letting the crimson liquid cascade into his chalice. "You can leave now." He said. Fauris stood up and with a respectful nod walked toward the door. "Fauris," he turned

"Yes father?"

"You will no longer spar with Koric, he is effortless for you to beat. You will spar with real solders and improve." Fauris was quiet.

"Will I still have other lessons with him?" he asked finally

"Yes, for now." Garion answered. Fauris opened the door, "Fauris, work hard. This will be the most important event for Rawthawn in the past two hundred years, not once has a son of a Regent achieved it."

"Yes father." Was Fauris' only response before walking out, careful not to slam the door. Garion sighed deeply and stared into his iron chalice, he drained it and poured himself another. He was going to need a lot of wine for the days ahead, that at least was something he was certain of.

Author's Note:

Seems there is a lot riding on this Kingly visit, huh? Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please take the time to vote!