In the middle of the Season, while all of us were happily busying ourselves in our laboratories, there arrived at our covenant a lone horseman whom we recognized as Hywel, chamberlain of Lord Elusdan ap Maldwyn. He bore urgent news.
King Henry III of England has invaded southern Wales in force. He attacked first from the Marcher earldom of Hereford, but is said to be advancing rapidly through Lower Powys. Prince Llewelyn has summoned to his banner all the fighting-men he can muster, including Elusdan and most of the garrison of Rhuddlan Castle.
Hywel delivered to us Elusdan's offer of protection within the walls of Rhuddlan Castle. Although the war is being fought now in the South, it is possible that the Earl of Chester make take advantage of the conflict to launch raids across the border. Hywel made clear that Elusdan intended to honor his pact to protect us from mundane threats. We convened an emergency meeting of the Council to discuss his offer.
Clementis was away in Spain, purchasing gold and rare ingredients for the enchanted ink-pot he has planned. The rest of us were left to deliberate without him, and we decided not to accept the shelter of Rhuddlan Castle. We were loath to abandon our studies when the danger was uncertain, and we deemed that, if the worst should arise, the silver mine would be a defensible refuge. We have adequate vis to conjure food and water, should we need to withstand a siege.
While we declined the shelter of the castle, we took the danger of Norman invasion very seriously indeed. The Council declared a state of emergency, suspending members' normal privelege of sharing in the covenant's vis until the threat of invasion was past. We began earnest discussions about what magical preparations we could make for our defense.
Our new guest, Coel, suggested that we keep an eye on the nearest English castle, for any English army that might attack us would surely stage from there. Cygar's familiar, the raven Merlin, secured a piece of shingle from the roof of Chester Castle. We anxiously await the return of Clementis so we may use his crystal ball to watch any troop movements there.
Some time before we learned this news, the grog Fagan, our Irish mercenary who fought so well at the tournament against Blackthorn, departed for his native land. I pray that his war-maul will not be missed in the weeks ahead. Finn, another Irishman, announced plans to leave, but was persuaded by Gwenever and Rydderch to stay. I know not why.
This is about where the Saga ended.
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