Circle of Reign by Jacob Cooper Page B

her lost daughter—dead or alive. After she tenderly replaced the pillow to its original position, she rose and left Reign’s chambers.
    Moira had already taken over many of the duties that a herald servant and hold master would have discharged, but a herald servant or hold master could not be retained. Not only was the family’s income meager, having to live from the resources provided by the land more and more, the stigma of being in the employ of a house named for treason was enough to drive away all but the most loyal to House Kerr—or the most desperate. Were it not for the secret support of Thannuel’s cousin, Banner, who had been assigned Lordship after Thannuel’s death, the hold would have been abandoned long ago. Moira had some family still—a sister, Molina, who was a caretaker for their father—but she could not burden them with her needs. In reality, however, she felt it would be too dangerous for anyone to take her and her son in. Moira did not know the genesis of this thought—why should her family be in danger for supporting her? It seemed a ridiculous notion, but she couldn’t shake the warning. For Hedron’s sake, she would not let the hold fall into ruin.
    She thought of General Roan and Kalisa briefly. She had never met their children but they would be nearly seven now. Roan had sought her out shortly after the funeral, seeking insight into a message he received supposedly from Thannuel just before he died, but Moira had known nothing of it. The handwriting had indeed been her husband’s but the message’s meaning was cryptic. It could have been nothing but the nostalgic desires of Thannuel to see his closest friend; but, she agreed with Roan that the letter may have hinted at something more. What, however, they may never know. She tried not to focus on it.
    Hedron would need to be sent into Calyn to secure provisions for their trip. He was ten years of age now, crossing over from the age of innocence, old enough to deal with the realities his family faced. Perhaps he only had the maturity because he needed to. Moira lamented that so much was now and would yet be required of him at such a young age. They would leave within a span for Iskele to once again plead their case before the High Duke. The journey there would take three days to complete, a day or two before Duke Wellyn and his court, and yet another three days for the return trip.
How will the hold fare for almost a span in my absence?
Lady Moira feared.
Will there be anyone left when I return?
She longed for the presence of Master Aiden, for his assistance in these times. But she would not request him to come and she doubted he would ever visit.
    The pain, it’s too great for him
.
    “My Lady?” entreated a young common servant. Moira looked up from her morning meal of simple acorn bread-cake and water to see Shayla standing before her. “A man has come asking for work. He awaits you in the courtyard.” The blonde woman servant was a little giddy. She stood there fidgeting with her hands and awaited her Lady’s response.
    Now this is something new
, Moira thought. She almost did not believe what Shayla had said and had to shake herself from brief confusion.
    “Are you sure?” Moira asked.
    “Quite, my Lady.”
    A man of middle age did indeed await Moira in the courtyard of the hold. The walls that engulfed the vast inner courtyard were two men high and made of gray stone interwoven with trees of all create. Battlements stood taller than the walls at each of the four corners of the hold, with branches and ivy adorning them. Elevated pathways started at ground level and rose gradually to lofty heights, weaving among the trees and branches immediately outside and above the hold before returning again to a differentlanding within the hold’s walls. The leaves of the ivy should have been more vibrant this far into the Rising Season, but they remained mostly brown, auburn, and orange. Dead leaves from the Dimming and Low seasons had