[Laurelyn]

Once Laurelyn had bathed and returned to her chamber she momentarily debated about clothing. On one hand she had the blue silk that was wrapped with tissue and spells (from Lord Kiever's mage) to protect it in travel, and on the other hand she had a couple sets of clean shirts and trousers. She lay the silk dress on the bed and pondered it - for though she knew she should look well for her Da she didn't want to make her traveling companions feel uncomfortable. Though Daron and Rudolopho had managed to dress finely. The dress also had other memories - of the Church banquet and her foolish and daring hope to learn information of Thomis's well-being. A hope that had paid off - since he had been at the dinner.  She chuckled mirthlessly to herself and thought ~I seem to end up wearing this dress into difficult situations - like some warriors wear armour.~

Nor was there any help for the wearing of the gown - in this situation she had to look her best.

With this in mind Laurelyn dressed in the shimmering royal blue gown, and did her thick auburn hair up in a simply yet elegant style. Quickly she pulled on her black dress slippers, and was about to leave the room when she thought of one item she desired to have with her. Something about the Dun made her very uneasy, and she returned to her saddlebags to dig out a dirk and a ankle sheath. There was no humor in her blue eyes as she lifted her skirts and strapped the black leather sheath to her calf.

She felt a certain comfort in the feel of the dirk against her leg and went out to join the others.

Nor was their wait long - Sean appeared in his formal kilt to lead them to the great hall.

At the closed doors to the hall waited Acair - who had changed into his dress kilt, and Thomis; the two men waiting off to one side. Gathered in other small groups were the various warriors, some with their well-attired doxies, and in one of the larger groups was Gairge and his close kin. All eyes turned to watch the approach of the travelers and Laurelyn's head was held high - her blue eyes cold.

Acair smiled at the sight of his daughter and stepped forward to greet her. "Ye look a vision, lass," he said, sounding pleased, "And while we await the bards introduce me to ye'r companions here." And though his blue eyes were lit by his smile his expression was still sharp and scrutinizing.

The storyteller gracefully turned, but not before a quick smile at Thomis, and began to introduce the others.

[Thomis]

        Thomis flashed his own smile in response, and though his brown eyes kept sweeping slowly over the room, he could not help but notice the gown Laurelyn had chosen to wear to the feast.  The same dress she had donned to attend the Grand Inquisitor's dinner party, where Thomis himself had been a "guest."  He took a moment to hope, silently to himself, that this evening would end less violently than that one had, with the subsequent battle in Griff's Field Cemetary and the destruction of the Banco de Republica.  Otherwise, he would have to start wondering whether the gown was a particularly ill-omened one -- which would be unfortunate, since she was very lovely.

[Ulric]

As his name was pronounced, Ulric stood tall and as it happened, eye to eye with Laurelyn's father. This was his test, as much as anyone's. He nodded respectfully, but said not a word. His clothing and weaponry marked him a foreigner as clearly as could be, so there was no doubt in his mind that if he was to die on this night, he would not need any words to precipitate it.

[Acair]

The Chief of the Hillrover clan nodded in acceptance, and said loud enough to be overheard, "Welcome, Ulric to the hospitality of the Hillrover Clan."

There was some risk in this act - for Laurelyn. She had brought this foreigner into their midst, and asked clan hospitality for him; so if he repayed her trust with treachery it would be on her head.

[Keir]

Keir stepped forward and knelt on one knee, braced by his ever-present staff.  A few had looked askance went he entered with it but apparently decided the "cute little man" with a stick was not a serious threat and let him pass. He had been tempted to erase their silly grins with a swift blow to the shins or between the legs but wondered if the latter would even be effective since these men wore dresses. :Big Folk, go figure: he thought and Laurelyn's relatives were some of the biggest and strangest he'd run across in this alien world.

"I have sworn myself to the Mistress Laurelyn's protection." he declared with head held high, "And would extend that oath to her kith and kin good sir, in payment for your hospitality."

[Acair]

Though some might have knelt in hopes of making the situation less awkward for the guest Acair understood that Keir would find such an act offensive. So he continued to stand at his full height, and said, "Please rise, Master Healer - my daughter has told me of your skill and bravery. And it is I who owes ye the debt for ye using that skill on her behalf, but I accept ye're oath with thanks."

[Jacques]

With Fiend at his heels - miraculously subdued and quiet - Jacques gave Acair a nod that barely sent a ripple through the bells. He felt extremely uncomfortable at the idea of such an occassion. There were too many similarities to too many situations in the past.

Fiend gave a very quiet "yip", and trotted up to sniff at Acair's feet, before settling back on his haunches, apparently satisfied.

"I ... " Jacques paused and then, grinning widely, flourished his hat in Fiend's direction "_we_ thank you for your hospitality."

And then with a wink, in a stage whisper, "Bring on the dancing girls!"

[Acair]

"'Fraid the weather is a bit chill for their flimsy attire," the Hillrover Chief said with a quick grin - at both Jacques and Fiend. "Ye'll have to make do with the heartier sound of our bagpipes."

[Maeve/Fionn]

        Maeve tried to keep her head up and her eyes straight ahead, but she kept finding herself looking down at the ground.  At least her hands, twisting together tightly with the knuckles white, were hidden in the corners of the shawl thrown about her shoulders.  Once, she would not have hesitated to come before the Hillrover chieftain, for though Acair Hillrover was an imposing man, his family and hers' were long allies.  Not even when the Calhouns fell into a hard-scrabble and threadbare existence had he scorned them.  But now, with the shame she had brought on her family, breaking her troth to the MacRories -- another Hillrover ally -- and with, of all people, a Fhaolain ...  And the get of that betrayal sleeping in one arm of another Fhaolain standing next to her --

        So it was when Laurelyn murmured her name, Maeve dropped her eyes and ducked her head, feeling her cheeks burn almost as hotly as they had when her Da had found out he would have to return the bride price.  She managed to curtsey, a bit unsteadily, before straightening, fixing her eyes somewhere at about the level of the chief's left elbow.

        For his part, Fionn did not hesitate to scan the room, just to make certain that his suspicions had been correct.  There were at least two young bucks in MacRorie plaid, though neither looked to be Donal himself.  And at the other end of the room, one in the Calhoun tartan.  Maeve had not noticed, she had been so determined not to meet anyone's gaze ...  But he had seen.  And when he stopped before the chief, to bow in acknowledgment of the other man's authority in this place, his dark eyes met Acair's without wavering.  He did not bother to speak a warning, the Hillrover had to be aware that among other potential problems, a possible confrontation of that particular feud-in-the-making might arise during the feast.

        So Fionn held Rue more closely in one arm, and kept the other hand free, to reach his blades, if it should become necessary.

[Acair]

Acair studied both Maeve and Fionn, and there was a tiny hint of a smile as he looked at Rue, for a long while. They were yet more trouble his own wild daughter had brought him, but he was no hypocrite to condemn the lass for a babe born on the chill side of the blanket. Nor condemn Fionn for his loyalty to the babe and the girl.

The Hillrovers had never been as tightly-laced as some of the other clans, and less likely to "break" someone from the clan for a nine-month surprise. But "broken" from the Calhouns Maeve had been, and as the Fhaolain boy had spotted - there were both Calhouns and MacRories present;  both old, and needed, allies. All he could say to the pair was, "Welcome."  And to privately offer a prayer to the gods of sea and stone that all in this little band found what they sought. And traveled safely on."

He also hoped that his acknowledgement of them was enough to indicate that he would not see them murdered in their beds - as might happen as to clean a clan's honor.

[Daron]

Daron dropped to a deep, graceful curtsey before Acair, her full skirt billowing about her feet in shimmering emerald folds.  Her gaze met his evenly as she spoke confidently, "I thank you kindly for the hospitality you have extended to me.  I am an artist by talent and calling.  I follow Mistress Laurelyn in her quest for reasons of my own.  And I have sworn to protect her, and the other members of the party..."  Her voice belied her nervousness at being before Laurelyn's kin and the others, at the "voices" she heard in the deep corners of her mind from this place.

She rose gracefully, turned to look at Rudolpho and smiled.  "Especially Rudolpho.  He is very dear to me."  Her green eyes shone with pride as she regarded the young boy, brave in his shimmering blue tunic.

[Rudolpho]

Rudolpho had waited for all the rest of the party to make their introductions.  He allowed them to go before him, as his father had taught him about showing respect to one's elders.  It was a surprise to him as Daron singled him out as a member of the group that 'especially' needed protection.  Harder still was to suppress his instinct to declare out loud that he didn't need special protection.  -This isn't the place to do that now.- he thought to himself.  -It's probably her way of showing she likes me.- He had also noticed Maeve's reactions and how she couldn't meet the chief's eyes and had blushed furiously.  He moved forward now, as it was his turn, and shook the man's hand.  "It's an honor to meet you sir.  Your daughter is a great leader and we're lucky to have her.  It's really nice of you to extend your hospitality and all.  If there is anything I can do for you just let me know."

[Acair]

"Thank ye, Mistress Innes and Rudolpho," Acair said, honestly acknowledgingly that the boy's offer carried weight - Laurelyn had spoken of the lad's skills and ingenuity, and tried not to smile at the boy's efforts at formality. Nor had she fail to mention the artist's bravery and determination.

[Rudolpho]

Not wanting to ramble, Rudolpho left it at that, and backed up towards where Maeve was standing.  He placed himself strategicly so that no one could see her tightly clenched hands.

[Laurelyn]

The sound of bagpipes nearly made Laurelyn jump - until she realized these were no ethereal notes, but had the full, rich sound of a living piper's breath.  And she briefly wondered if she was hearing Brion's replacement - he had been gone a long time from the clan, and as she had told her Da - she didn't know if he planned on returning. Nor did she have any doubts that Brion's absence was another sore point - for he not only was the Clan's piper but Acair's brother.

All turned at the sound and they watched as the Clan's High Bard and lesser bards approached. The High Bard, Naomha, wore the sweeping multi-colored cloak of his rank, with his long black hair braided into an elaborate coiffure, and crowned by an equally elaborate head dress of feathers and jewels. The lessers bards wore cloaks whose less-numinous bandings of color indicated their ranks; the last in line were the apprentices in brown robes and simply hairstyles.

The Chief murmured only loud enough for Thomis and Laurelyn to hear, "After dinner I wish for you both to confer with Naomha - he may have some tales or prophecy concerning 'The Star Dreamer.'"

Laurelyn nodded in understanding and bit her tongue to keep from asking if he had any prophecy concerning the Dun. She had no desire to ill-wish her Da or kin with her worries, but there was a band of fear tight about her heart. And the presence of the High Bard and his entourage did not lessen her worries - for that meant her father was prepared for a full battle.

Her skin went clammy at the thought of seeing another mage war - one where loved ones could well die.

As the bards approached the massive doors to the feasting hall were pulled open, and the bagpipes began sounding in earnest. At this signal Acair, Chief of the Hillrover clan, took the lead, followed by the High Bard Naomha and his entourage. Laurelyn signaled her companions to wait till the bards had passed - then indicated that her party was to join the processional as it wound its way around the plank tables. Acair took his seat at the high table, with Naomha on his right, and much to the sound of whispered astonishment - he seated Laurelyn to his immediate left, with Thomis next to her. Two other high-ranking bards sat next to their teacher. And on Thomis' left was Gairge's father, Geill Hillrover, who was Acair's first cousin.

The rest of Laurelyn's group were seated as honored guests, so they were seated with other of the elder officers of the clan. Measail Hillrover, a man with thick white hair and chill blue eyes, and his woman, Teth Ealanta, who was not a young maid, but who had the skill to keep herself attractive. Tearmunn Hillrover - one of the younger officers. And Lagfunn Hillrover - a very lean man, with a somewhat pensive expression.

[Thomis/Maeve/Fionn]

        Thomis remained standing until Laurelyn, her father, and the other high-ranking officials at the table had taken their own chairs.  He marked automatically where the others of the party were seated, measuring without thinking the distance between each table, and from there to the exits.  His gaze stopped momentarily as he took his seat, noting how Maeve's blue eyes dashed around the room and how her face flushed as she fixed upon one young man at the chief's own table, one in yellow and green plaid.  The fellow did not miss it either, and half-smiled from his sandy-blonde beard as he leaned over to another at Maeve's table to mutter something in Highland, just loud enough for Maeve at the other end to hear.

        "I am sorry," Thomis said to Laurelyn, his own words loud enough for those near him, and Maeve herself to understand, "what was it he said?"  Maeve's flushed face had paled at the words, and though Thomis ordinarily would have let the insult -- whatever it was -- slide without comment, Fionn had not seemed prepared to do so.  The Oath-Bound had half-expected the dark-haired Highlander to stalk over, armed with both babe and blade, to demand an apology.

[Rudolpho]

It was hard for Rudolpho to keep his mind at the task at hand when he entered the hall.  He could smell the wonderfull scents of the food cooking and permating the entire hall.  He had to chide himself not to think about how much of it he could eat and pack away for later.  He didn't have to stash any food for rainy days, but old habits died hard.  With some concious effort he concentrated on carrying himself proudly and deciding to sit near Maeve...just in case.  She was flushing again and based on Fionn's reaction, it had been an insult.  He wondered if things were going to get ugly.

[Laurelyn/Acair]

Laurelyn had heard exactly what young Hector MacRorie had said to Gille Hillrover - something about Maeve obviously spreading her legs for anyone, particularly since she was traveling with another Fhaolain.

In response to Thomis's cue Laurelyn pitched her conversational voice to carry and said to him, "It's not worth repeating." She shook her head and with a tone of saddened dismay said, "'Tis a shame when - despite the _very best_ efforts of their wise and knowing kin - that young men forget that there is nothing lower than insulting a clan guest."

Acair, who had been discussing something with another at his table, had missed the first part of the exchange, but at the sound of his daughter's voice turned back. The Chief didn't need to guess who was at the center of the tension - most of the attention was on Gille, Hector, and Laurelyn, though there was plenty to be spared for a blushing Maeve and her bristling Fionn. He withheld comment; now was the time to let Laurelyn prove she could handle herself. If it looked like the situation was going to become more heated he would step in; he didn't want a war amongst allies - not with the MacLenans probably massing.

[Thomis]

        The flush that crossed young Hector's face was not as deep and burning as the one Maeve had shown, but it was definite, and the sandy-haired young man quickly dropped his eyes.  "My apologies to ye, and to the Chief," he said clearly, acknowledging his own error.  "I would not shame the MacRories," he continued, with only the faintest emphasis on the pronoun, to imply that he believed others in the hall -- Maeve and Fionn -- would have no hesitation in doing so.

[Keir]

Oblivious to the tension at the table Keir concentrated on the food and relieving the emptiness in his stomach. Though the meal was heavily slanted to cooked meats, not a few of which were unidentifiable, he was pleased to see some raw greens.  They seemed to be added more as a garnish but there was enough for his intended purpose. Carefully slipping some into his pockets when he was certain no one was watching, he smiled in anticipation of offering them to the two baby rabbits that lay back in his
room in a hollow of his straw bedstuffs.

[Rudolpho]

The young gypsy could feel the tension in the room.  It was palpable,  such that you could almost cut it with a knife.  He glanced at the knife  before him and decided quickly that pantomiming cutting the tension, would  not be a good idea.  Instead he cut off a piece of meat before him and tasted it.  He chewed it thoughtfully, still standing by his chair, and tugged on Maeve's shirt.  "You really should try this meat Maeve.  It's really good!"  He then turned to Laurelyn's father and continued.  "My compliments to your cook sir, this food that you've been really nice to share with us is really good!"

[Acair/Laurelyn]

The Hillrover Chief looked towards the guest table and said, "Thank ye, lad."

After acknowledging the MacRorie apology Laurelyn gave Rudolpho a quick smile - then turned uneasily to meet the High Bard's steady gaze.

[At Guest Table]

Measail turned his chill blue eyes towards Ulric, and civilly asked, "And where, sir, do ye hail from?"

This white-haired old warrior was far better versed in the treatment of "guests" than any young pup.

[Ulric]

"Across the seas," he said, avoiding a direct answer. The alert look in the older man's eyes told him that a lie would be unadvisable, but he knew that the truth would be ten times worse.

"I am a mercenary, I was on a merchant's ship which sunk on your shores several weeks past."

He took a drink to quench a suddenly dry throat. As he placed his cup down, he glanced about him at the stronghold's walls, then back at Measail.

"You are freshly settled in, and you prepare for war again?" he asked, eager to change the topic.

[Measail]

"Across the seas covers many lands," Measail said, not willing to let the warrior completely dodge the topic. He glanced towards Laurelyn and said, "Our 'shores' were taken long ago - by folk who were more than willing to breed with the mer so they could have the waters and winds do their bidding."

His chill eyes turned back to Ulric, "But ye're well passed the shore now - are ye looking to hire ye're sword out to earn a passage? The fisher folk would have little use for ye're skills." There was no accusation in his heavily-accented voice. "Or have ye hired on with the Chieftain's lass?  For if ye haven't - then perhaps the Chief could offer ye pay.  We've held this Dun for over four months now - but we've little doubt that the MacLenans will be trying soon to take her back."

[At Guest Table]

"So ye like the meat?" a lass's voice said behind Rudolpho; a rather sing-song voice that might have been trying to imitate the sultry tones of older doxies.

[Teth Ealanta]

Teth Ealanta turned her lovely violet eyes (which was the second of her attributes to catch Measail's attention many years ago) on Keir. Her clothes, make-up, and hairstyle were tastefully done, and enhanced the richness of her still-brown hair and her other endowments. Measail was high enough in standing that she could have her own wagon, and not have to walk with most of the other camp followers. Her voice was musical and with her easy skill she seemed to have turned all her attention on Master Keir.
"I understand that you are a healer, good Sir?"

[Keir]

"Yes m'lady." Gulping down a piece of spicy mutton, Keir stared into her violet eyes, never having seen such a color before. "Yes, I do have some skills in that area though I'm truly a naturalist by birth and training."  It did not surprise him to see female Big Folk in this place of obvious violence for he well knew Laurelyn's skill in battle, however this woman's uncalloused hands and smooth, soft musculature - so openly displayed - spoke of an easier life. "Are you a healer m'lady?"

[Teth]

Teth gave a throaty laugh and said, "Some might call me that - and I have unrolled a bandage or two in my day. But I doubt any would call me a 'naturalist,' though some might say I come by my profession naturally."

[Daron]

Daron resisted with difficulty the urge to rub her hands to relieve the painful burning sensation in her fingertips--a sign that her "gift" wanted expression--which had started as a dull, ignorable ache when she entered the Dun and seemed to intensify when she walked into the dining hall and took her seat at the guest table.  Instead, the artist tried to concentrate on eating the meal set before her.  She hoped no one noticed her discomfort.
 
[Rudolpho]

Rudolpho turned to see who had addressed him.  He wasn't sure by just the voice but it sounded like a younger person...not quite adult.  When he looked behind him, he gazed into the eyes of a young girl behind him.  For some reason, his tongue just wouldn't move the way he wanted it to.  "Uh hiyes, I mean hi and yes...um you know what I mean?"  He turned and grabbed the nearest cup to him and took a swig.  Unfortunately it was a lot stronger than the water he had been expecting to be in there.  He tried to stifle the coughs that came from his burning throat.  He tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to look as if he had meant to drink the strong spirits before him and smiled at the girl.

[Beud - the serving girl]

Beud tried to restrain a giggle - her Mam had told her that men did foolish things, even young men, and ye never laughed at them. First off it hurt their pride - which either meant ye might be out in the wind or hurt yerself. But this boy didn't look like he would hurt anyone - he actually was nice to look at with his dark hair and eyes, and with him being a guest it was hard to tell his standing in the scheme of things. His fancy clothes proclaimed him well-placed, but the way he handled his food - like there would be none on the morrow - said he might have come up hard.

Either way it was still wise to be nice to him - and he was about her own age (which meant he would probably be less inclined to fondle her - luckily her Mam was saving her bloom for a higher rank than just a common sort). Though she doubted her Mam would want to her get too friendly - but he looked so much kinder than some here.

So Beud said with a pleasant smile, that showed she had all her teeth, "I do indeed." She pushed a pewter mug of chill water into his hand and added, "Perhaps ye will find that more to ye're taste." She tried to stand saucily - to show a figure that was only beginning to ripen in her fourteen year old body, and hoped he noticed that she had just washed her blond hair. Her Mam was proud her daughter had inherited her own blond hair, - not the auburn that was so common amongst Hillrover byblows - and told her to keep bathed so that her golden locks would shine.

[Rudolpho]

He hurriedly took a gulp of the cool water that she had thoughtfully given him.  Looking into her smiling face he knew that she wasn't fooled by his act.  He took the time to take a better look at her.  Her blond hair shone only to be outdone by the twinkle in her eyes.  "Thanks for the water.  It really hit the spot.  My name's Rudolpho."  He looked around him for a chair for her.  Seeing that they were all occupied , he stood up.  "Can I offer you a seat?"

[Beud]

"I'm Beud," the girl whispered as she took a flagon of water from her tray and placed it on the table. During the process she managed to lean closer to Rudolpho (all the while hoping her Mam was busy serving on the far side of the hall), and said, "I can't sit - but meet me in the stables during the bards' tales."

[Daron]

Daron watched the exchange between Rudolpho and the young girl out of the corner of her eye and smiled.  Her right hand subconsciously went to the ivory and emerald comb at her right temple, making sure it held her dark hair in place.

The artist forced back with difficulty the overwhelming compulsion to run from the table and back to her room to sketch the images forming in her mind.  Now was not the time...

Daron took a healthy sip from the cup of spirits set before her.  Tears stung her emerald eyes.  The burning sensation in her throat now matched the one in her fingertips.  Another deep swallow, and the burning faded away to a dull ache.  She returned her attention to the meal set before her.

[Ulric]

Ulric swallowed some drink, barely noticing the alcohol in it as it slid down his throat. A second's grace it had been... time to think upon his answer to this clansman who confronted him with questions he had not considered.

"I wish I could lend the Hillrovers my muscle and sinew to use in their battles, but I have need to be going home. For the moment, the chieftain's daughter and I share a common direction and until we part ways I will protect her and her companions as best I can."

He looked the older man in the eyes for a short moment, then finished his drink. While the chatter and noise around him clamoured with sounds of homeliness, he was too far from home to find solace in it.

[Measail]

The old Hillrover nodded, "Fair enough, warrior. It's good when a man knows his direction and his loyalties."

[Ulric]

"It is good when a man knows both safety and health," Ulric replied.

He was finding many similarities in his own language and the local tongue, and was growing increasingly more comfortable with it. It was both disturbing and heartening for the warrior to discover. Comfort was not something he had wished for or expected from anything in these lands.

Finally he turned his attention to his food, and set about eating it with both vigor and grace. Despite his recent poor living conditions he was no beggar...  but he was hungry.

[Fionn]

        Fionn left Maeve to serve herself, knowing that if he had so much as offered to pull the girl's chair back, she would have snapped at him.  Which would have given the more lively among the Calhouns and MacRories even more reason to cast out subtle, and not so subtle, taunts.  He did stay by her side, watchful of both Maeve and the babe.  When Rue had settled down again, dozing despite the noise in the great hall, he moved one chair aside to put her snug in a nest of blanket between his feet -- after giving a stern look to one scrap-sniffing mongrel moving among the diners' legs.

        Beyond that, Fionn remained mostly silent, meeting stare with direct stare when Gille Hillrover and Hector MacRorie saw the need to look his direction.  -A mess of Niall's making,- he thought to himself, -and the hurt of it falling to others.-  Cast-off lover shamed before her own, and dark-haired daughter unwanted by mother or da.  If it hadn't been for his need to watch Maeve -- and as the night passed, and the drink was consumed, that need likely would become even greater -- he likely would have been unable to avoid looking too openly at Daron Innes.  Niall wouldn't have hesitated, he knew, for the woman surely was a lovely sight, to make even Luatha of the Moonlight envious.

        As it was, the most he had time for was a murmured apology when Rue stretched out her arms and kicked, catching the edge of the woman's silken gown.

[Rudolpho]

The room suddenly seemed much warmer, though Rudolpho really didn't know why. He did wonder though, what kind of soap the young girl used.  She did  smell pretty nice at this range and she was really nice.  He realized he was staring and snapped out of it.  "I see.  You have obligations.  Ummm...okay.  I'll see you at story time.  When do you get to eat?"
 

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