Two years after the crowning ceremony of the new king of Clonmel...

Baron Arald sat in his office, watching as droplets of rain trickled down the walls and onto the ground far below. It was a miserable day, he mused. The clouds completely covered the stunning blue of the sky, giving Redmont a rather dull and dreary look, which rather suited Baron Arald's current mood.

King Morgarath, he thought dourly. It just doesn't feel right. Ah, what I wouldn't give to be back in the days when King Oswald ruled, and young Prince Duncan was the heir to the throne.

While the weather may have had an effect on his mood, worry was the main cause of his current irritable state. Morgarath - Arald hated to think of him as 'King Morgarath' - was a ruthless man, and one who did not like to leave loose ends lying around.

Before Morgarath had seized the throne, Arald had been one of King Oswald's chief supporters, and on top of that, he was in charge of one of the most important fiefs in Araluen. A day earlier, a messenger arrived with a letter from Morgarath, who was requesting a visit from the young Baron. He wouldn't put it past Morgarath to take him hostage and appoint some useless fop as a replacement Baron, and who knew what that would mean for the citizens of Redmont fief. Life for them had already become hard enough since the change in powers.

A gentle knocking startled him from his thoughts. For a moment his chest tightened, and a knot of worry welled up inside him. Was Morgarath here so soon, had he not been content to wait for Arald's arrival? Getting stiffly to his feet, Arald shook off the cloud of worry and opened the door. Instantly, he let out a sigh of relief, the muscles in his chest relaxing and allowing him to breath easily once again.

"Lady Sandra," he said, the relief evident in his voice. He ushered her into the room.

"Is something troubling you, dear? You've been up here for days now. The castle staff are worried about you."

Arald took a deep breath. It was no use trying to conceal his worries from his wife, and, truth be told, he would be quite glad to get it off his chest and have some much needed reassurance.

"It's Morgarath," he admitted. His wife, he noticed, did not look at all surprised. "He's not one to leave any threats to the throne lying around, and he knows I was one of King Oswald's main supporters."

Lady Sandra waved her hand, gesturing for him to continue. She squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

Appreciating the gesture, Arald continued. "He sent a letter. He wants me to come to Castle Araluen immediately." He heard Sandra's sharp intake of breath as she realised the possible significance of this. Arald nodded, a grave expression on his face.

"But what do you think it means?" she asked, a slight quaver in her voice.

Arald spoke slowly and deliberately. He had already considered several options, and he had come to a conclusion that this was by far the most likely. "I received another letter, a few days ago. The Baron from Whitby fief - you know it, don't you? - has supposedly resigned from his position, leaving another noble to take his place. I suspect our dear friend Morgarath had a hand in his selection."

"You mean... you think he wants to get rid of you?" Her husband nodded, and she continued, the slight quaver in her voice growing more noticeable. "And appoint one of those... those lazy, good for nothing nobles who he can bribe and dominate?"

"It makes sense, I suppose, from his point of view. After all, he knows how strongly I resented the idea of him becoming the sole ruler of Araluen." Arald replied. This did nothing to reassure his wife.

She stood up and walked over to the window, gazing out at the dreary landscape. She could just make out Wensley village in the distance, where the townsfolk were going about their business, and the fields beyond where farmers tended to their crops.

"What will this mean for all the citizens of Redmont fief? And what would happen to the wards, Alyss and Horace?"

Arald shook his head. "That's the worst case scenario, dear. It's probably just a warning to keep in line." The more he thought about it, the more he suspected it would be the case.

"Maybe, Arald, dearest, but no matter what, there is a possibility something will happen to you. You can't go round ignoring the facts. You've got to be prepared. You know what the Ranger Farrel used to say. If you expect the worst, you won't be disappointed," Lady Sandra insisted.

The Baron relented. He could see the sense in what his wife was saying. He leaned back in his cushioned chair and massaged his temples, considering the best plan of action.

"If Morgarath appoints some lazy fop to take my place, I'm sure he won't be too fussed with the commoners. And the wards..." he thought for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration, "perhaps if we found a place for them in the village, just in case. But what of you, my dear? Where will you go?"

Sandra hadn't yet considered her own course of action. She was a selfless young woman, and, like Arald, the people under her protection were her first priority. She frowned, deep in thought.

"I will go with the wards," she said finally. She forestalled Arald's protest. "No matter what, they are under our care, Arald. We can't abandon them to their fates. Besides," she added, "there will be no place for me here."

Arald's eyes met her own, and he could tell she was completely sure of her plan. She had proven to be a source of wise counsel in the past, and he knew he could trust her. "Very well then. What of the staff, Mistress Pauline and Sir Rodney and the rest?"

"Perhaps Pauline would agree to come with me," Lady Sandra mused. "I can't see Rodney or any of the others being convinced to leave their posts here. They have a duty to their craft."

Arald inclined his head, and Lady Sandra slipped quietly from the room. "I will leave you to your packing. None of that gaudy stuff, mind you. You are not to embarrass yourself in front of the King, evil or otherwise."

He managed a small smile, before returning to his pensive state. The gloomy grey clouds were still there, sending down a constant drizzle, and doing nothing to improve his mood. What is the kingdom coming to, that loyal servants to the rightful heir must flee for their safety?

*Seemingly appears out of nowhere* Hi there. It's me, Ris. How did you guys like this chapter? Kat wrote it but I just wanted to say that, oh my god, doesn't this look like it was pulled straight from the books? This is amazingly written, in my opinion.
Well I don't have much more to say other than that it's my turn next and it's gonna seriously contrast this in writing style.
Kat doesn't really have anything to say either so we'll just sign off now xD

Rangers Ris and Kat