The wooden hall sat on its stone perch high on the hill overlooking the joining rivers. A gradual path led up the easy south side of the hill to meet the doors. The north side of the hill dropped as a stone face down to the riverside. Besiegers would find few footholds in the tight stone, making assaults from the north impractical if not impossible. Proud stallions carved out from the lofty timbers gazed out across the land in all four directions. Balian’s golden lion danced in the wind on the red banner that hung above the doors. Upon opening the doors, one would see long tables set in a feast hall that ran almost the entire length of the building. At the end of the hall sat high chairs for the lord and lady of the house. Side passages led to a kitchen, armory, and enough rooms to house the Baron’s entourage should he honor the hall with a visit.
The bitter winds of winter would gust against the walls of the hall but all would be warm inside where Svetlana would lay entwined with her husband under piles of furs. The hall would echo with the sound of clacking wooden swords wielded by the young sons she would bear him.
At least that is the way it will be someday Svetlana reflected. She looked around the hill but the great hall she saw in her mind was not there. Yet far down below at the edge of the river the stoneworkers stacked rocks into wagons. When the wagons were full they would bring the carts to the top of the hill and start laying the foundation of Svetlana and Balian's new home.
She smiled and closed her eyes letting the sun warm her face. It was good to get out of the town at least for a few hours, however wedding preparations still awaited. It was a shame her future husband could not ride out with her today but he claimed he had duties weighing on him that would wait no longer.
The thumping of horse hooves sounded in the distance and Svetlana turned to the south in the hopes that Balian had finished his duties early. Two figures took shape and the one wearing the bear mantle was unmistakably Grimbold. The other slighter figure must be the youth Wini. The cavaliers were there to escort Svetlana back to the safety of Stagfell. She took a long look at idyllic pasture in the river valley below and went to find her horse.
******
All seemed quiet in this part of the Redemptio Keep. Not even servants scurried about with daily activities. This was just the moment Balian was waiting for. He gave a light knock on the door and heard no answer so he pushed it open and slipped inside.
Oleg Leveton sat sitting up in his bed. His eyes were half closed and Balian could not tell if the man were awake or asleep. Balian walked to the foot of the bed, cleared his throat, and gave a respectful bow. The old man's eyes flickered slightly and Balian thought he saw his head move.
"Trademaster Oleg, it warmed my heart to hear you've been improving. I trust that you've been well cared for. I've always had the utmost respect for you. Of all the people living in the Greenbelt right now you were the first. The first to come here and carve out a place and life for yourself. Many including myself have come out here and done the same. It may have not been possible if not for you. And then there is Svetlana. As you know she is a very special woman. The importance of her survival and prosperity may be greater than you or I can know.
Allow me to be direct. Years ago my own brother stole a woman I loved from me. He did not do it because he loved her but did it only to spite me. You know that I am an honorable man. There was a time I seriously considered banishing myself from your trading post in order to not threaten your marriage with Svetlana.
Now the fates have led us here. The Baron requested that Svetlana marry me and she consented. In a matter of weeks we are to wed. Despite my own love for her, it took an order from the Baron for me to consent to marrying her, due to my respect for your marriage. Although she is a handsome woman that can stir any man's heart, I do this not out of simple lust, but out of love and duty. I will love her, protect her, and fight fiercely to give her everything she deserves. If you know me then you know I am sincere though I know this does little to dull the pain of losing her. Remember that the her survival and prosperity is a matter of importance larger than the both of us.
It would mean everything to me if we had your blessing. I know that this may not be possible as you may justifiably want to see me dead. I would completely understand.
Regardless of how you feel, as I said I have the utmost respect and admiration for you. I will do everything in my power to see you comfortable and safe. If you grow strong enough your trading post still rests in the north. It is being stewarded by capable hands until your return."
Balian finished the speech he had rehearsed and it felt as if a great weight lifted from his mind. He watched Oleg for a response, a little more nervous than he would like to be of a crippled old man.
Oleg's eyes moved up and away from Balian. His lips parted and a strangled gasp emerged that turned into a hacking cough. Oleg fumbled nearby for crystal phial with a clear greenish liquid. Pain etched on his face from the cough, Oleg sat back into his bed and sighed. He nodded towards Balian and held one hand up as he stifled another cough, then beckoned for Balian to step closer.
As Balian came closer Oleg tried to whisper something. When Balian leaned over he felt something jab his midsection...Oleg's hand was holding something. Balian jumped slightly and looked down to see a small golden box wrapped with a pretty red bow. On it was a card. Oleg cleared his throat and with red-rimmed eyes nodded one more time towards Balian before he turned to stare back out at Stagfell's waterfront activity.
Balian examined the small box which was wrapped in a delicate and expensive gold paper. A card on it read in flowing scribe handwriting: "A Wedding Day Gift".
Below that was scrawled in different hand-writing:
"To be opened on the happy day of Balian's and Svetlana's wedding...with my blessings - Oleg Leveton."
A brief smile broke upon Oleg's face as he nodded and turned away to stare out the window. Balian looked up from the box and dropped to his knees beside the bed. He gathered Oleg's hand and lifted it to his lips. The old man's hand felt light and frail, like his bones were that of birds. Balian rose from the bedside and quietly made his way toward the door. A nurse opened the door and entered the room to replace towels. When Balian reached the door to leave he was sure he caught the faint sound of Oleg, shoulders slumped over, crying quietly to himself.
