[Wids]

For the Eyes of Dame Pellance Ironpate of Trailsend, Damara
From the Hand of Chamberlain Wilgerd Ironpate of Margo, Damara
29 Uktar


Mother,

Again have we come to the advent of the Feast of the Moon, a time when Father is never far from my thoughts. Though it is a time to hold our fallen and our forebears in memory, some also consider the Feast of the Moon to be a time of change. And we at the Margo Estate have seen change aplenty, for these two months past have been a time of tumult and scandal, such that Highharvestide came and passed with scarcely a whipser of notice.

Late into Eleint, Lady Corella grew afeart that her young handservant Anneletta had in some way come into the company of the Mad God's church, with whom this servant girl plotted to remove Lady Corella from the board. And it so happened that, whilst the Lady's Guard were away in a vineyard chasing ghosts and shades, an assassin cornered our lady in the wine cellar and made his move! But by Tymora's grace, one of the stablehands had entered the manor to ask her instructions for her next morning's ride, and there he found Lady Corella and the assassin. He struck the scoundrel into a stupor with one of the cask mallets at hand, but not before that assassin hurled a sack laden with alchemist's fire at Lady Corella and sparked a horrific blaze. With his stout thews and his own two hands, Bereghel the stablehand dragged both Lady Corella and the murderous knave away from the fire and out of the wine cellar. Our lady yet clung to life, but her failed slayer swallowed poison and expired ere Bereghel could draw answers from him regarding his sender, whom the Lady's Guard suspected to be the servant girl Anneletta, likely promising Lady Corella's coffers to whomever could see the dark deed to its end.

All too tardily, the Lady's Guard sniffed and spied the smoke billowing from the manor and came running from the vineyard as one, rightly dreading that they had erred in the defense of their liege. A thorough search of the culprit's corpse revealed that he was the selfsame Cyricist assassin whom the Lady's Guard had sought among the grape vines. Captain Hawkgarden praised Bereghel for his valor and his vigilance, even as the stablehand continued to salve our lady's burns and bind them in torn strips of silk and gauze.

The guards then bore the slain assassin away, to deliver his remains to a gibbet in the town's outskirts and thus inform the Church of Cyric that they were -- and are -- on notice for seeking the life of Lady Corella. Mayhap that should convince those mad dogs to cringe in hiding for a while.

Never once did I see Lady Corella's face after the attack, as her head was thickly swaddled with bandages, with strands of her surviving blonde hair extruding from among them. She sobbed and moaned in her every waking moment; her sleep was tormented with incessant twisting and writhing. So I imagine that what burns she suffered were awful indeed.

The lady could speak again after a tenday of rest, but her voice was a weak, soft, rasping voice which sounded far different than it ever had. From the comfort of her bed, she gave her first command since her brush with death: "Send for a cleric from Leira's shrine on Amaryllis Road. Inform her that all is as it seems." I was startled with her whispered demand, as Lady Corella's disdain for the Church of Leira is known entirely well, but I sent forth a messenger as bidden. Within the hour I was welcoming a mysterious priestess robed in reddened brown and masked in silverglass, introducing herself as 'The Eminent Z, Princess of Moths'. I led this enigmatic 'Z' to our lady's bedchamber, feeling ill at ease in her presence all the while, from where Z could greet our bedridden lady and begin her ministrations. Lady Corella urged me to leave the two their privacy, that Z could remove the lady's bandages without compromising her virtue, and I duly complied.

The priestess later informed my higher servants and myself that Lady Corella had inhaled the flames during the assassin's attack, giving the fire leave to scorch her throat and her lungs as terribly as it had marred her face, and that I had sent for the priestess too late for the harm to ever be wholly reversed; to spare her the consternation and aversion of her subjects, she would need to wear a mask of porcelain for the remainder of her life. I am far too seasoned to take a Leiran at her word alone, but it would seem that a bridge betwixt Lady Corella and the Goddess of Illusion begged to be mended, and the proper time for that had come. Mayhap the priestess could be trusted for this while, even if not at any other time.

And just over a tenday past, a woman-at-arms clad in the armor and livery of the Barony of Polten marched into our court. The City Watch of Daleport had found a young pauper girl dead in a winding alley near the wharfs, slashed to her death and robbed of everything she carried. The messenger sought the girl's origins and so showed a sketch in charcoal to Lady Corella, Captain Hawkgarden, Maid Lorewen, Maid Quainne and myself. Each of us saw that the subject of the sketch was none other than the wayward handservant Anneletta Sardant, and so identified her as such. Satisfied, the messenger returned whence she came, and thus did that chapter of our court come to a close. Lady Corella was never kind to that girl, but I do believe that I heard a sigh of remorse as she looked that sketch over. Whatever her reasons for arranging our lady's demise, I do hope that young Anneletta has finally found peace.

I never embraced the Feast of the Moon with any measure of eagerness, but I imagine that, even as he attends the One Who Endures in the House of the Triad, Father is pleased with my service and my station as House Margo's chamberlain. Yet I grow weary with this season, for I have spent enough time in the company of death. Mayhap Lady Corella shall grant me furlough from her court, that I may come to Trailsend for a visit. If that should come to pass, Mother, pray expect me soon.


With Love,
Wilgerd