Finally she was ready to go . . . but had to wait in the Hall on her brother and the other men in the party. They were gathering additional stores from the sheds and holds, at Kamen’s orders. Her father had heard how the suddenly-expanded population of the castle had picked the market bare, and now with winter here they were struggling to feed them all. Yet Master Minalan had yet to send out parties to demand additional food from his estates, as most normal lords would do. Then there was the fact that Sevendor had recently expanded, which had everyone excited. Word had come that the magelord had led a small military expedition against the nearby estate of Brestal, and had taken the small tower there without bloodshed in a nocturnal raid. That was serious news. Brestal lay to the north and east of the Westwood, beyond Matten’s Helm, a separate lobe of the valley that had, until several years ago, been an estate of Sevendor. But a few years back one of Sevendor’s neighboring lords, the fearsome Warbird of West Fleria, Sire Gimbal, had coveted it for one of his sons. Though everyone knew it was wrong for the lord to do so, he had raided the estate, burned a village to the ground, and installed his son as its puppet lord. Sir Erantal, who was supposed to defend and protect Sevendor in the name of the Duke, had done nothing about the conquest, partially to punish the people of the Vale who had grown unruly in the face of his increasing demands. Sir Erantal was a hired knight – he did not care about the domain.
