Episode 1: A Journey Begins

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The main hall was as grand as he had remembered it. Uther looked appreciatively at the new paintings that had been added since he had last been here. Two more, the daughter and husband of the man that saved his life, and their son, the current Lord Underwood. A trick of the light made him think that the portrait of Allen O'Malley winked at him, and he saluted the painting with a drink.

"If you will go through to the dining hall, you will find dinner prepared for you," indicated Edgar. The dining hall looked a bit more garish than he remembered, but at least Uther found the table more to his remembrance: a large roasted pig filled the center, and various other sauces, meats and vegetables filled the table. Spying a rather large tankard at one place, he smiled and realized that he truly had been expected. He said down heavily and drained half of the sweet mead in a single swallow and let out a solid burp. "I wond'red where I left that," he mused happily.

At the head of the table stood an ornate chair, with pairs of similarly ornate chairs sitting on the side. Two places on one side were curiously undressed with silver.

Isobel, feeling rough from the travel, turned to Edgar and asked for someplace to change and clean up before dining. He led her down a long hallway to a little sitting room in the corner. There she found ready water and a soft bed, and she changed out of her travelling outfit (the one that made her look much like a warrior) into her more comely habit and wimple. Just as she was about the return to the dining hall, a woman's sobbing echoed down the stone walls toward her.

The despair in the voice was so strong, so sharp, that Isobel could not turn away. Breathing a prayer to the Guardian, she approached to large wooden door behind which the woman was crying.

The door moved easily on its hinges, and Isobel noticed the ornate nature of the room. Sitting on a large, pillow-laden chair was an elderly woman, her eyes red from crying and wide. Isobel shyly walked over and asked, "Are you alright?"

The woman started, obviously not hearing Isobel enter, and focussed her attention on her. The woman's face sagged with age, and her watery gaze fixed upon the young intruder.

"My son!" she wailed. "My son is gone! They won't tell me, but I know, I know, I know, I know! He's gone, we're all gone, it's over, unless..." The woman grew still, gripping her kerchief with thin, white-knuckled, bony hands. Sharply she moved to Isobel. "You! You are going to retrieve my son! My son!" she muttered, frantically. "Save him! You must, you must, you must!" At this, she broke into a racking sob again.

Isobel helped the old woman into her bed. "I will help, if I can," she assured the old woman, which seemed to calm her. Just as she was turning to leave, the woman grabbed her wrist and uttered, as a whisper: "Six, seven, five, three, you will bring bay my boy to me!"

The woman seemed to fade away after that, and quickly fell into a sleep. Isobel creeped out of the room carefully, and closing the door almost walked straight into Edgar, who stood there passively.

"You will have to forgive the Lady Underwood, madam," he half-whispered to her. "She has not been, well, herself for quite some time, and this business with young David has not improved her condition."

Edgar began to lead Isobel back to the dining hall when he suddenly stopped and turned to her. "Is it true that you are a Guardian of Wyndhamere? And that you are going to bring back young David?"

"I am, and I think so," Isobel answered.

"Good," remarked Edgar, before he continued down the hallway. "This way."

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