The Lord of Losk

Ten months ago Rachel had set out for Ughelor. That day had been the end of a long trial, a power struggle between her and the seasoned witches of Gabras. In essence it was her reward, a sign that she was ready for more than fertility charms and evil eyes. The spirits of the marsh had told her to go to Ughelor, whose lord was the sword of the deep gods in the waking world. When she left Losk she hadn't thought she'd return to it before she saw it burned. But though the knights at the head of the train into her father's castle might have thought so, it was not a day of defeat for the deep gods and their servants.

Castle Cobny was ancient. Rachel's ancestors had only lived in it for a few centuries, but they'd won their position by destroying their own lords, who were its original builders. The heirs of Losk said that the Cobnies had become sinful and indulgent. She wondered whether their featureless ghosts were what had guided her and her nanny into the worship of the deep as a long delayed vengeance. In any case, it was a dull, ugly castle. Its towers were purely functional and could not compare to Mollethin Spire. Its walls could turn away any invasion by rivals of the sword, but her father thought it was ostentatious to even hang his family symbol from it. There were barely any servants. Again a mark of Fulke's austerity. _If I hadn't been so bored maybe it wouldn't have come to this, she thought. Or maybe they'd have found me out._ In all things, men were betrayed by what they treasured most.

Lord Fulke sat himself in a high wooden chair beneath a sculpture of his grandfather's victory against the pirates of Har-Toria. One by one the knights knelt before him and thanked him for his hospitality, and then went to stand by the wall to wait for his answer. Rachel was at the end of the line. "It's good to see you, daughter," he said without emotion.

Rachel made her smile look painful. "Thank you so much for rescuing me, father. I'll remember you in my prayers for as long as I live."

"Your piety honors me," he said. His grey eyes were lidded, to hide his discomfort.

"Father, can't you hug me? It's been so long. I missed you while I was away."

He fidgeted. "It's not proper," he said. "Tell me. What happened while you were away?"

'Are your prospects intact,' in other words, thought Rachel. He wondered whether he could still get a good bride price for her hand. Though she was his only living child and his wife had died long ago he had no love in his heart for her. Everything was duty and pride for the baron of Losk. She glanced at Odo and tried to look bashful. "The gods preserved me from any great hardship of the body," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor and bunching up her hands together as if reticent to think about any of it. "But that man's company was awful enough. He was so sure I would fall to him. It was only thanks to your example that I could remaine pure."

Fulke put his hands on his knees. He wanted to look humble, but he was obviously pleased to be complimented, and to know that his plans for her to marry a duke or a prince could still come true. "I'd missed you too, daughter," he said, now that she wasn't a harlot in his eyes.

"And," she began. Fulke looked up at her, almost ready to bare steel. "I want to thank Sir Odo most of all. He's always been a good servant to our family, even in the years of his captivity. And since we left Ughelor he's been my most faithful confidante."

The baron looked bored with the proceedings. "He's deserving of praise, yes," he said. "Men, know that you always have a home in Losk. I'll speak with you all privately. Now I think my daughter should take her rest."

Rachel smiled and curtsied for her saviors. "The road doesn't agree with me," she said. Judith joined her as she walked out into Cobny's halls. The castle hadn't changed one bit in the time she'd been away.