«This is still very early in the process», Zoë replied, holding one of the slips closer to a candle to read its heading. «What area did you have in mind? What area is complete enough, at this point?»

«I know it can't be perfect», Alyce said. «Compiling all the returns will take several years. I think King Malcolm's inquiry took more than two, and some returns were still missing when they stopped working on it. But I thought we might start with Dhassa. For some reason, that seems to be fairly complete».

«I've heard they're very punctilious in Dhassa», Zoë replied, scanning the cramped lines on an irregular scrap of parchment. «I suspect it comes of keeping track of all those tolls to get into the city, because of the pilgrimage sites. But we could do an illuminated cover page, and fancy capitals for the sections dealing with the actual shrines. Have you ever been to Dhassa?»

«No. But there must be people at court who have».

«We can talk to them, then, and get some descriptions. It would be fun to incorporate some of the local features. But no scrawny lions!»

Alyce grinned. «I promise — but only if you promise not to include any fat squirrels».

«Agreed!»

They enlisted the patronage of the queen to assist in their undertaking, and had the thin volume ready for Twelfth Night court. Alyce had compiled the text and copied it out in her best court hand, Zoë had done the illuminations, and Marie and Vera bound it in crimson velvet embellished with silk and gold laid-work on the cover and along the spine. They had wrapped it in white linen tied with a length of creamy yarn, and Alyce hugged it to her breast as the four of them waited at the back of the great hall.

But first came the business of the court: the formal enrollment of new pages, including a proud Prince Brion — Prince Blaine and Krispin looked on jealously; the pledging of new squires, and several knightings, though the girls knew none of the newly dubbed young men.

Late in the day also came Sir Rorik Howell to report the death three days before of his father, Corban Earl of Eastmarch, and to pledge his fealty to the king, thereby obtaining the right to enter into his inheritance.

«We receive this news with much sadness, Sir Rorik», Donal told the muddy, exhausted young man who knelt before him, offering up his father's seal as earl, as a sign that he acknowledged the king's right to confirm the succession. «Nonetheless, we understand that your father was ill for many months, and that release will have been a blessing, for him and for his family».

«God grant that he now rests in peace, Sire», Rorik murmured dutifully — and Alyce could Read that his regret was genuine. «I pray that I may be as wise a guardian of his people».

«They are now your people, Rorik Howell Earl of East-march», Donal said, enfolding the young man's joined hands in his and raising him up. «Accordingly, before these witnesses, I hereby receive your pledge of fealty and I confirm you in your lands and honors. Go to bed now, young Rorik, for I know you have ridden solid for three days, and probably will have ruined several good horses in the doing of it. Tomorrow, when you have rested, we shall make more formal acknowledgement of your new status».

A murmur of sympathy and approbation followed the new earl as he bowed and retreated from the hall, followed by a squire who had been directed to see to his needs. There came next an announcement by an emissary of the Earl of Transha that the wife of young Caulay MacArdry was lighter of a son and heir, born the previous October and christened Ardry. The news of the birth somewhat lightened the sober air left in the wake of the sadder news brought by Rorik of Eastmarch, and left the king in mellower mood by the time the formal business of the court had ended. As he and his queen retired to the withdrawing room behind the dais, for a break and light refreshment while the hall was set up for feast to follow, the girls followed at the queen's beckoning.

«Sire, I have conspired with the demoiselles de Corwyn and their friends to produce a special Twelfth Night gift for you», the queen said, as she and king settled into chairs before the fire and the girls hesitated at the door.

«A gift?» the king said, setting aside his crown and running both hands through his thinning hair.

«Aye, my lord. Ladies?»

At the queen's gesture, the four of them came to kneel at the feet of the royal couple, Alyce still clutching their precious manuscript to her breast.

«Sire, you will be aware that Twelfth Night marks the Feast of the Epiphany, when, by tradition, three kings brought gifts to the newborn Child in Bethlehem. This is why we give gifts at this season, in memory of their gifts».

«That is true», the king said patiently, smiling faintly.

«This past year has marked the giving of another great gift: your Majesty's great commission of inquiry, by which the rights of lords and commons throughout this land shall be safeguarded and preserved».

Tremulously she offered up her package in both hands, placing it in his.

«In the spirit of this season, then, the four of us decided to create a modest memento to commemorate the importance of this latest inquiry — an extract of the findings concerning the city and environs of Holy Dhassa — and we have set it forth in a form befitting its importance in the history and preservation of our land, and hopefully pleasing to your Majesty».

She watched as he untied the yarn holding the linen wrappings in place, his eyebrows rising as he turned back the linen and caught his first glimpse of what lay within.

«My lord», said the queen, «Lady Vera and Lady Marie created the binding and its fine embroidery. The illuminations are Mistress Zoë's work, and the scrivening was done by Lady Alyce. The balass rubies and the gold bullion thread for the binding were my own humble contribution. I hope you are pleased», she concluded, as the king opened its cover, greatly touched, and turned the first page slightly toward the queen.

«What a truly remarkable gift», he murmured, as Richeldis ran an appreciative finger along a bit of the binding. «I shall look forward to finding the time to examine it properly. Dear ladies, I thank you. Now, where is my new page?» he added, turning to look for Prince Brion, who was standing proudly behind his father in his page's livery, craning his neck to see.

«Boy, take charge of this, please — and mind your hands are clean! Ladies, I see a squire lurking by the door, waiting to unleash petitioners, but I shall charge my son and heir to guard this well for me». He leaned forward to kiss the hand of each of them, then nodded to the squire as he put his crown back on.

«Let's have the first one, Gerald. I should like to see everyone that I must, before the feast is served».

After Twelfth Night, the rhythm of life at court settled back into its usual routine. The first months of the new year were marked by heavy storms and freezing cold, leading to a late spring. Perhaps because of the sharp lesson of two years previously, Meara was still quiet, but Iolo Melandry, the royal governor, warned that the peace was precarious, and might not hold.

The peace did hold, all through that season, but word came early in the summer that the newly married Countess Elaine, a bride of less than a year, had died in childbed after delivering a son. The boy's father had christened him Kevin Douglas McLain.

«What a tragedy», said Queen Richeldis, hugging the infant Nigel to her heart when she heard the news.

«Was she even sixteen?» one of the other ladies asked, shocked.

Alyce shook her head sadly. «No».

«Her husband is to blame!» another muttered.

«No, she was unfortunate», the queen replied, for both she and Jessamy had borne their first child younger than Elaine.