Diaries of a Dwarven Rifleman

Ynghilda quickly drew up a document of the marriage, which they all signed as witnesses. After they had done so, nothing would do but that she should drag them both into the great hall and announce it to all assembled. An impromptu wedding reception broke out immediately, with drink, music and dance. The folk of the valley had endured a terrible year that might well get worse yet and a marriage was all the excuse they needed. The release of their accumulated stress, at least for this moment, made for one of the most enthusiastic celebrations seen in those parts in some time. It was hours before the couple could slip away to celebrate their marriage privately.

They met with Ynghilda the next day to settle legal matters, a necessity because of Engvyr's as-yet unused title.

“I don't know if your title can pass to Deandra, she being Afmaeltinn,” Ynghilda said thoughtfully, “I guess that will be a matter for the Royal Court to decide. But I do know that she can inherit your property and land. That will make for some legal gymnastics if she doesn't retain your title but frankly that's someone else's problem. The law is very clear on inheritance between spouses.”

“I really don't…” Deandra began but Engvyr stopped her.

“War is coming love, and people will die. If I am one of them it will be a comfort to me to know that you are provided for.”

“Hmmm,” Ynghilda said, “If you don't file your claim there will be no lands for Deandra to inherit. I have a suggestion, if you are willing to do me the honor of becoming my neighbor?”

Engvyr looked to Deandra, who nodded.

“We'd be honored. What do you have in mind?”

She brought out a map of the valley and showed them.

“There's a section here, in the southwest of the valley. It's partly wooded and backs up to the mountains. We can cut out this section here- that looks to be about the size we need. There's good drainage and a stream…”

– **-

Engvyr returned to duty and he and Taarven probed the northern fringe of the Makepeace Valley, trying to penetrate into the goblin-held lands. They were never able to make it more than a day's ride in before being chased out and the Master-Ranger called off these efforts the second time that the rangers were nearly trapped.

It was the consensus of the 'privy council' that either the Baasgarta were planning a major attack on the Makepeace Valley or wanted them to think that they were. Unfortunately there was no practical way to find out.

They discussed going down to the coast and then moving north before cutting back into Baasgarta lands but at this point there was probably not enough time. Even if they did find anything how would they get word out quickly enough? All they could do was lay their plans, make their arrangements and then wait and see.

They did not have long to wait. Just after midnight of the second-to-last day of summer Engvyr and Deandra were disturbed by a commotion in Ynghilda's sitting room, adjacent to the guest quarters that they now shared. Engvyr threw on a shirt and breeches as Deandra shrugged into a kirtle and they went to see what was happening.

Ynghilda was speaking with an army officer he didn't recognize. Grael and Berryc were there, having obviously been recently roused. Taarven was also there, dressed in the same fashion as Engvyr, his hair mussed from sleep. Oh ho! I suppose that's no great surprise, Engvyr thought. He cocked an eyebrow at Taarven, who shrugged and refocused on the officer's grim report.

Ynghilda looked up as they entered and said, “Deandra, good. Porridge and coffee, as much as we've got. We're evacuating the Stead.”

Deandra didn't even stop to dress, just headed straight out the door to the great hall.

The Steadholder had already turned away and was rolling out a map of the valley. Engvyr grabbed Taarven.

“What’s happening” he asked him as the others gathered around the map.

“The sentries from the north have come in. The Baasgarta are in the valley. They're assembling at the Eyrie and two other places in regimental strength or more.”

The long awaited storm had broken. War had come to the Makepeace Valley.

PART THREE: THE ANVIL Chapter Twenty