Six weeks after leaving Urd Morlemoch, Ridmark Arban stood before the seat of the Dux of the Northerland in the great hall of Castra Marcaine. Ardrhythain had sent word of his success, and Dux Gareth had thrown a grand feast to celebrate Ridmark’s return. There had been a tournament and a feast, the freeholders and commoners invited in the Castra’s courtyards to eat and drink from the Dux’s stores. Now Ridmark stood before the Dux’s seat, wearing his finest mantle and cloak, Heartwarden belted at his waist.
Dux Gareth stood, and the hall went silent. His children waited at his side. Constantine looked as solemn as a squire his age could manage. Imaria, as ever, scowled at Ridmark. But Aelia looked radiant. She wore a gown of green that matched her eyes, her hair bound into an elaborate crown. She smiled as she looked at Ridmark, and she had wept with joy when he returned to Castra Marcaine.
“My lords and knights,” said the Dux, “one of the Swordbearers in our service has returned from a quest of tremendous peril. Alone, Ridmark of the House of the Arbanii braved the ruins of Urd Morlemoch, and defeated the dread Warden in a game of wits. He has returned from grave danger, and we are glad to welcome him to our hall once more. Sir Ridmark, if you have anything you wish to ask of me, you may do so.”
“I do, my lord,” said Ridmark. He took a deep breath.
“What is it?” said Gareth.
“By your grace,” said Ridmark, “I wish to ask for the hand of your eldest daughter Aelia in marriage.”
A stunned silence fell over the hall.
Gareth’s expression did not change, but Ridmark saw the tiniest corner of his mouth twitch upward, briefly.
“A bold request,” said Gareth, “and one that merits much consideration. I must consult with my advisors, to see if my daughter would consent to such a request.” He turned his head and looked at Aelia. “Well, daughter, advise your father. Do you think my eldest daughter would consent to such a request?”
“With all her heart, father,” said Aelia, her eyes fixed on Ridmark’s.
“That was easy enough,” said Gareth. “Ridmark Arban, my daughter has given her consent freely, and so you shall be wed, as…”
Aelia dashed across the dais, threw herself into Ridmark’s arms, and kissed him upon the lips.
A burst of laughter went up from the hall, followed by applause and cheers. Aelia broke away from him, still grinning, and Ridmark’s arm went around her waist. He felt his heart hammering against his ribs, the blood rushing through his veins.
He saw Tarrabus Carhaine standing at the far end of the hall, glaring at him.
Ridmark remembered the visions he had seen in Urd Morlemoch, the shadows surrounding Tarrabus.
Of his own future, a desperate, ragged man in a gray cloak, a coward’s brand upon his cheek.
“Ridmark?” said Aelia.
He pushed aside the dark visions and smiled at her.
“I love you,” he said.
Her smile seemed to shine. “I love you, too.”
In that moment, Ridmark thought, his life was complete. He would make sure his vision of the future never came to pass. He would ensure that Aelia remained safe and loved for the rest of her life.