"I was joking about more fighting!" I said, shaking my head in disbelief. "The ale's gone to your head, Marchel. If anyone's to blame for this invasion it's your brother Chanerig stirring up trouble in Tir Isarnagiri." "Chanerig brought a whole island under the banner of the White God," she shouted. "His name will be remembered forever among the Fathers of the Church!" She took another swallow of ale, and added, more quietly "Nobody could have expected so many to be willful, or for them to decide to invade us." She looked at me suspiciously. "Though you were very well placed to be there at the right time to settle them without fighting," she added. I sprang to my feet, spilling my ale on the fleece I had been sitting on. My hand moved of its own accord to my sword hilt. "You are entirely wrong," I said, coldly. "Are you calling me a traitor?" Marchel rubbed her hand across her eyes and stared up at me. "No," she said. "No, Sulien, I didn't mean that. But you have to decide who you serve, Urdo or your family." This was nonsense.
