The duke heaves a deep groan as his body falls heavily into his chair. The sound slams home all to eagerly the pain in his shoulder and arms. Servants bustle forward to soothe their overlords pain and fulfill his wishes. Cadlew raises his eyes to the scene before him. Deliberately focusing on the swirling colorful forms before him he pleads, "will this melee never end!"

As the breakfast table comes into focus and the realization that he has been hit on the head once too often he grins, "hell of a feast." A page supports his lord's cup and replys, "yes lord, your breakfast my lord." Cadlew's bruised and battered arm reaches forward to the task before him. Wearily he muses over the past weeks of celebration.

"I am a wretched soldier but a grand Duke." He grins and laughs. "I should have told them all to go home after I was unhorsed in the first round of the joust...ah the looks that would have brought. Thats it! Party's over! Pack up and bugger off the whole lot of you!" His musing entertains him and brings sidelong glances from the servants as they clear the table.

The melee never ends. The castle staff busily usher in the steward and his retinue of money counters. "Amlyn. Did I really invite every knight of the realm, to come to Lindsey,and watch me get my ass kicked up and down the lists?"

"You did my Lord," replied Amlyn.

"What is the price for such amusement?"

"The estimate approaches 300 librum your grace."

Money well spent no doubt. Cadlew peers down at the herald's record. He finds the argent tower, azure and reads. "First round joust-out. First round melee- out." Simply pitiful.

"There is this my lord." Amlyn's interuption is sparked by the bright red fire of sunlight on a ruby gemstone. The jewel creates a staccato rhythm as the scepter it adorns is rolled across the white linen table cloth. Sunlight and red fire dance from the huge jewel as Cadlew picks up the trophy. We did win in in a big way, he smiles.

Gazing out the window of the tower and searching the horizon in the direction of Avalon, the duke lifts the scepter into the sunlight. Its radience is magnificent. Pelleas and Nimue were splendid guests and their wager now adorned the duke's treasury. Playing the mage, Cadlew peers into the gem and questions what glory lay ahead in distant Avalon.

To his surprise the twinkle of red light is answered by the shock of blue and green light. Sunlight from the early day had cleared the rooftops of Lincoln castle, and now warmed the ediface of Saint Kenneth Cathedral. Blue and green livery could be seen through the unfinished tracery of the clerestory. The glazers were installing the stained glass portrait of Duke Aeron as Cadlew had instructed.

Cadlew stared as if mesmerized as the huge glass window tilted crazily in the days light. Aerons outstretched arm and pointing finger spun oddly at all points of the compas; as if commanding the workers how to proceed. As Saint Kenneth's transept was filled with the bejeweled light of the stained glass, Cadlew turned to his steward. "There were highlights to this St. Christopher feast, no doubt," he remarked.

He turned back to his sill and his refracted daydreams only to see them fade like the whill-o-whisp. Below in the courtyard the city of Lindsey was busy. Along the city wall, Cadlew could see the carts of gubbins and trampled splendor. Paper-mache crests and bits of torn fabric -- some stained an unholy red -- littered the area. The poor milled about like flies through this shambles. Searching for food and the cast offs of their betters.

A grinning fool raised his bucket head adorned with the crumpled winged bird crest. "Look at me. I'm a lord knight on parade!" The tittering laughter stopped only briefly the pawings of his bent back companions. Rats and the poor ate well in the wake of a grand tourney.

The grave digger's cart clattered loudly on the cobblestoned exit of the city gate. Its four shrouded passengers bucked and jolted wildly as if at a country jig. The whitened arm of one unfortunate dangles, gesticulating frantically as it bounces in the cart. Passersby turn their heads but only one acknowledges this farewell wave from the grave. The red haired knight smiles and waves back at the blue tatooed arm.

Farewell.