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thought had been of the wedding party. They could not possibly have come so soon, however, not unless they had sailed through the middle of the night. No one did that, not unless it was an emergency. The Berrywine was a friendly river, but was not so forgiving as that.
    He paused with his hand on the heavy bars that they kept down over the thick door.  Who would come to Rabing Isle at dawn and thump upon their door? It could not be good news. He mentally insisted that he put in a spyhole of some kind for just such occasions as these. As the Champion of the River Haven, he’d found many an occasion of late where he could have used one.
    He threw the door wide, and his axe squirmed in its pack.
    There stood, of all people, Myrrdin. He scowled at the wizard, and the wizard glared back at him. Neither spoke or gestured for several long seconds.
    Finally, hearing Telyn coming downstairs behind him, Brand nodded and roughly waved the visitor inside. As a host, it was his duty.
    Myrrdin passed him and sat on one of the easy chairs.
    “Will you take tea, Myrrdin?” asked Telyn.
    Myrrdin nodded, but still said not a word.
    Brand followed Telyn into the kitchen. A whispered conversation ensued.
    “Did you invite him to the wedding?” he hissed at her.
    “No,” she said shaking her head empathically. “I doubt he even knows about it.”
    “Who will be doing the ceremony, then?”
    “The Village Friar, from Hamlet. The one from Riverton was busy repairing damage from the fire.”
    “Where’s Jak?”
    “He was up before dawn, fixing up the property. I think he’s nervous, Brand.”
    “Well… Go join him, please.”
    She gave him a dark look, but nodded her head. “Just promise me that you won’t try to take Myrrdin’s head off this time.”
    “Fine, fine,” Brand muttered. He took the mugs of tea from her and carried them back to Myrrdin. The last time the two of them had met, matters had come to blows. They had removed the roof of the place they’d been staying in. He sincerely hoped that no such fate was in store for his home. He told himself that no matter how provocative the wizard was, Ambros would be left in his pack.
    He handed the tea to the wizard and tried not to be irked by the look on the man’s face. He had the look of a man who smelled something very unpleasant.
    “Welcome to Rabing Isle,” Brand said, trying to sound friendly.
    “Glad to be here,” said Myrrdin, but it was plain to Brand he was speaking a polite lie.
    “I’ve got good news,” said Brand, deciding not to wait around until the wizard got to whatever point he had in coming here. “My brother is to be wed this day, right here. We will be performing the ceremony at noon, if you care to stay.”
    Myrrdin seemed surprised at the invitation. His mood rose somewhat. “That’s very kind of you Brand. I doubt I will be able to stay, but I dearly wish that I could.”
    Brand sipped his tea and waited.
    “Brand, I’m here for a very special reason. I certainly don’t want to interrupt your happiness on this important day. In fact, now that you tell me of your celebration, I would normally leave, or hold my talk for a better time.”
    “I take it, then, that you don’t bring happy tidings?”
    Myrrdin shook his head. He sipped his tea a final time, then leaned forward, his eyes becoming intense. His gaze locked with Brand’s. “No. No, I do not. I fear things are going badly. I don’t understand all of it, but I’ve heard things, Brand.”
    “What things?”
    “Muttering. Whispered conversations in dark places. The drums of war are beating Brand, in a dozen places.”
    “Why? Why now?”
    “The Kindred, Brand. That, and other hurt feelings that have finally boiled to the surface. You see, powers have shifted. When that happens, there are inevitably winners and losers from the new arrangement.”
    Brand nodded, undisturbed.
    “Yes,” Myrrdin continued. “I know, you account the River Folk as among the winners. But that