"Hush, nag, or you'll wake the town. Come, you ugly brute, we've a small trip to make."
The horse bobbed her great head excitedly, her tail swishing madly as Gawain grasped her be-ribboned mane and swung himself up on her back. No need of reins, no need of saddle. Gwyn clopped quietly out onto the track that led up to the point overlooking the farak gorin, where Gawain dismounted and made a fuss of her.
Then, as dawn broke, man and beast turned towards the sun, and waited, and remembered.
Rak found them there an hour later, standing quietly side-by-side, gazing out across the vast white expanse to the snow-capped mountains.
"You look well, for a dead man, my brother."
Gawain turned, and smiled. "I am tired, Rak. So very tired."
Rak nodded, and there was a profound sorrow in the dwarf's eyes.
"You know?" Gawain asked softly.
"I do. I was in Juria with Allazar when the decoy was slain by the Ramoth. Merrin did not know of our plans, and I deemed it best that no-one should. When she heard word that you had been slain there weeks ago, she thought it true, and opened the letter you left for Travak."
Gawain nodded. He could understand the error. Morloch had believed it to be true, why should not a gentle mother?
"Forgive us, your Majesty…" Rak began, but Gawain cut him off with a gesture.
"No, say it not. I would not be King of ashes. It hurts too much to think of it, even after all this time passing."
Rak's eyes watered. "I understand. What name do you go by now? The patrols speak of Ramoths quaking in their towers, dreading the coming of The Longsword Darkslayer."
Gawain paused a moment. "In time, perhaps my own. But not now. Not yet. My heart no longer beats ice, but blood, and is too fragile to bear the pain of a name last spoken by my family. But though I carry this blade, and ever shall, the Longsword that Brock of Callodon and Allazar named is gone."
"Traveller, then?"
"Aye, brother. Traveller is meet. For travel I believe we must, soon."
"Soon?"
"After winter's grip." Gawain sighed, turning to the Teeth. "Morloch may yet live, but a greater threat awaits all the southlands, and even now attacks the Teeth relentlessly, hoping to force a breach. Should they succeed, should that dam burst, all the lands shall perish, unless they stand together as one."
"Then your father's dream, and mine, yet lives."
"Yes. And we must prevail, or every land shall be wasted."
"Then we shall prevail."
Gawain turned again, waves of weariness washing over him. Rak strode forward, took him by the arm, and led him down from the point, and to home.
Gawain slept for two days and nights, and when he awoke it was to birdsong. Clean clothing and new boots had been left at the foot of his bed, and he dressed quietly. Outside the window, more snow had fallen since he'd retired to his room, but the day had dawned bright, with the promise of clear skies.
Habit more than desire caused him to pick up the longsword and sling it over his shoulder, and he left the room intending to make straight for the kitchen, but was interrupted by happy giggling from the main room. He walked in, and found Rak seated by the fire, and Merrin sitting on the floor playing with Travak. The infant had a toy wooden horse, and someone had painted in bright blue eyes. Gawain smiled.
"Well met, friend Traveller." Rak said quietly, smiling.
"Well met."
Merrin smiled, though her eyes betrayed her pity for Gawain's dread loss. "Look, Travak, your uncle is here!"
The toddler grinned happily, picked up the little wooden Gwyn, and stumbled across the room, holding it out for Gawain to see. He bent, his back and knees protesting, and smiled at his namesake.
"Hello Travak."
"Gwyn!" the boy giggled, waving the toy horse, and then rushed back to his mother's arms.
"You must be famished." Merrin said, and rose, with Travak on her hip.
"I am, in truth." Gawain smiled back.
"What would you like for breakfast?"
"Anything but frak."
Rak and Merrin laughed, all tension evaporating.
"Although I must say I have a taste for it. But after so long of nothing but, I'd happily eat grass."
"I think we can provide much better fare." Merrin smiled happily, and left the room.
"Sit, or are you inclined to stand after so long a-bed?"
"No, I'll sit.” Gawain unslung the sword, and eyed it ruefully before propping it apologetically against the hearth.
"You are rested?"
"I am, thank you. How fares Threlland?"
"The land, or the crown?"
"Both, since both are known well to you."
"Ah," Rak looked sheepish. "Forgive us. But my Lady and I are not given to ostentation."
Gawain smiled. "Nothing to forgive. Both are well?"
"Aye, and thriving. You missed a fire yesterday."
"A fire?"
"Aye. Safe to say, there are no Ramoths in our land this day, and never shall be again."
"Word is spreading, then?"
"In truth. Winter hampers its progress a little, but word is spreading. Wizards are proclaiming the death of Morloch, and with no fear of Morloch's breath, towers are being fired across the southlands."
Gawain's eyes flashed aquamire black, and he knew it. Rak looked momentarily startled, but just as quickly regained his composure. "Whitebeards. Fools. Allazar was right, Morloch spent his Breath long ago. And now they would celebrate, instead of forming council and binding Morloch forever. Idiots."
"It is early, my friend. There is time enough surely to acquaint them with the truth?"
Gawain sighed, and the quiet words dampened his ire. The dark tints in the periphery of his vision evaporated, and Rak visibly relaxed.
"Yes, there is time." Gawain agreed. "But I know more of whitebeards now than I did before. Much more. They are not to be trusted, Rak, on any account. The time must come soon when they must take orders from kings, not give orders to them."
"And Allazar? Is he not to be trusted?"
"No whitebeard can ever be truly trusted. If you had seen across the Teeth as I have…" Gawain trailed off, and watched the flames dancing in the hearth.
"Allazar comes. He should arrive by nightfall. Word has it he left Juria's court the moment the Teeth shook, and has killed two horses in his haste to come."
"Then for that alone he offends me."
"Do not judge him harshly, Traveller. He laboured hard on your behalf, and risked all many times. Twice I myself saw him close to death, chanting magic to keep the decoy from sight entering Ramoth compounds."
Gawain sighed, and was about to answer when Merrin entered bearing a tray laden with hot food. Gawain smiled, and rose, and then sat to a welcome meal.
Merrin sat on the floor by Rak's legs, playing with Travak while Gawain ate. But at length, she looked up, and asked "Are we truly safe, Traveller? Will we see Travak a man?"
Gawain paused, and considered a moment, keenly aware of the longing in her eyes. "For now, yes, I believe so." He answered. "I cannot answer for the future, but for now, in truth, I believe we are safe."
She smiled, and went back to playing with Travak.
"How long before they breach the Teeth?" Rak asked, and Gawain looked up from the remains of his meal in surprise.
He found both Rak and Merrin looking to him for an honest answer.
"In truth, I do not know. Years? I would need to speak with Martan, for his opinion."
Rak nodded. "We have much to do then, in the time available."
"Aye. Much indeed."
Later, Gawain was grooming Gwyn in the stables when a messenger arrived bearing news that Allazar had arrived, and awaited him in Rak's main room. Gawain nodded, and went back to his duty. Gwyn had been well-tended, but duty was duty, and he'd missed her company and watchful blue eyes. At length, when she shone in the lamplight, Gawain stepped back and admired her.