Ardun walked down the room, turning on his heal near the end and up again, several times over. He walked, turned, walked, turned and over again. There was little, he could do in the winter months, which the elves called the dead months. That was more than true.

Eva constantly appeared in his thoughts. No matter, how hard he tried, there was no way of shaking her off. This continued more than often. He turned. His eyes looked at the large table that was placed for him; he didn't even take a bite. She was constantly there. He walked towards the fireplace, watching as the wood burned. Somebody knocked at the front door of the cabin. He waited. Somebody knocked again.

“Enter,” he said, after a break.

The long haired, bearded Targar entered, he knelt in front of him. The man waited.

“Arise,” Ardun said, turning back to the fireplace. “What brings you here? Is there a problem that needs to be solved?”

“No, only news,” the man said. “I bring only news and nothing else.”

“What news?” Ardun was more than interested to hear what the man had to say.

“Good news, I hope.” the man could only hope that the news he was carrying were good. Ardun was know for his temper.

“And they are?”

The man found the strength to continue:

“The Khan has returned the family estates to you.”

“Are you sure?” Ardun stopped for a moment.

“Yes.” the man replied.

“It changes things.” Ardun still didn’t give any emotion.

“It does,” the man turned towards the opened window, somebody was coming, a knock followed.

He went silent.

Nothing moved in the room.

“Who is it?” Ardun turned towards the door.

At first silence.

“Who is it?” Ardin asked again.

A womans voice replied:

“It's me Basira, may I enter?”

“Yes.” Ardun’s answer was simple.

She entered, sat on the free chair. Ardun sat near her, signaling the man to leave. The man knelt, and left the room.

“What can I do for you, my lady?” Ardun tried not to look too much brooding.

“I wish to speak to you.” Basira tried to look less cheerful.

“Aye, what about, my lady?”

“About Eva, she loves you.”

“I know that, but her blasted father is always in the way. If there only was a way to pass him.”

“It's all taken care of.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, she waits for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she stood up and left.

Ardun sat alone, in silence, thing what to do next.  

The snow fell so thickly that it filled the station trench altogether, and settled on the stockade wall like a mound. Outside were night and a storm; but the chief room in Hreptyoff was blazing with light. There were two violins, a bass-viol, a flageolet, a Temedir horn, and two bugles. The fiddlers worked away till they were turning in their seats. The cheeks of the flageolet player and the buglers were puffed out, and their eyes were bloodshot. The oldest officers sat on benches at the wall, one near another, as gray doves sit before their cotes in a roof, and while drinking mead and wine looked at the dancers.

A Dutarr looked at the men stationed at guard post.