Dominic AllenPanelistDan WheelerPanelistYes, Edmund.
Come in.
Uh, forgive me, uh, my Lord Montjoy.
I know it is a late hour, but I was delivered this from Mr. Wardlow, sir.
He said it was most urgent that you have it upon the business of the meeting at the end of the month.
[door opening] [door closing] What do you say here, Wardlow? [paper rustling] What news reaches us from your coastal shores? Come now, come now.
[gentle music] My dearest Montjoy, Prince of Foxes, we cannot allow the Merrow to take advantage of St. Ursula to come.
I know your dream frets you, that your great name will die in treachery and be replaced by this other man you saw, this Launceston.
But what did Tamlin Godswood warn us of in his great colloquy by way of trusting to our dreams? That they are not writ in the quantock stone.
And do we not have hope from Hyperborea? The stag, Poulton, has the rod, and with your Disc of fabled Ind, the means to a greater future now than that blasted Merrow Lemuel's prayers promise.
We must trust the voice that speaks to us through that stave of power, the one that Ivan calls the Yithian.
What Monmouth does is his business, but we would be fools to leave this feast of St. Ursula without action.
Better that these pretenders with their ill-gotten wrack rights be swept aside by the light of the land and the river.
Take the old mother, the Hydron Bast, to Horror's Coom if we must, to Alfoxton and the Shadowganger, to the spring there that we know does not run dry.
Why, only yesternight, Wendrove himself told me one of his most trusted lieutenants did not answer him directly if he could be counted on.
I fear Lemuel's rely on promises may have begun to sow discontent among the faithful.
If those damned Merrow have reached so high amongst even Wendrove's peaceful hares, who can say for owls or boars? And all the time, poor foolish Clarendon dithers and dallies and knows not what he is about.
I know it is a great danger, but better to be knowing of it and able in the taking of action with them.
And let the business of it be done upon their ground, the Merrows, at the Cliff Barrow.
Your Lemuel has led good men away from us and fed them false promises, I swear it.
If you see Crevic's men in the masks of my Crayfolk in league with the Mer, with the Merrow filth, then you must know that they are false and not of my company.
[bell ringing] And yet, I know not if I can trust you, Horace, my oldest friend.
Yes, my lord.
What is it? What would you have?
What all the way, sir? It is a cold evening.
Uh, you shall catch your death.
I shall fetch the mare for you, sir.
There are tittle-tattle gossips who would spread discontent, but me and my Marjorie, we have nothing to do with that, sir.
Come my return from the moontide, there shall be a gift for you and your family as always.
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Yes, Edmund.
Come in.
Uh, forgive me, uh, my Lord Montjoy.
I know it is a late hour, but I was delivered this from Mr. Wardlow, sir.
He said it was most urgent that you have it upon the business of the meeting at the end of the month.
[door opening] [door closing] What do you say here, Wardlow? [paper rustling] What news reaches us from your coastal shores? Come now, come now.
[gentle music] My dearest Montjoy, Prince of Foxes, we cannot allow the Merrow to take advantage of St. Ursula to come.
I know your dream frets you, that your great name will die in treachery and be replaced by this other man you saw, this Launceston.
But what did Tamlin Godswood warn us of in his great colloquy by way of trusting to our dreams? That they are not writ in the quantock stone.
And do we not have hope from Hyperborea? The stag, Poulton, has the rod, and with your Disc of fabled Ind, the means to a greater future now than that blasted Merrow Lemuel's prayers promise.
We must trust the voice that speaks to us through that stave of power, the one that Ivan calls the Yithian.
What Monmouth does is his business, but we would be fools to leave this feast of St. Ursula without action.
Better that these pretenders with their ill-gotten wrack rights be swept aside by the light of the land and the river.
Take the old mother, the Hydron Bast, to Horror's Coom if we must, to Alfoxton and the Shadowganger, to the spring there that we know does not run dry.
Why, only yesternight, Wendrove himself told me one of his most trusted lieutenants did not answer him directly if he could be counted on.
I fear Lemuel's rely on promises may have begun to sow discontent among the faithful.
If those damned Merrow have reached so high amongst even Wendrove's peaceful hares, who can say for owls or boars? And all the time, poor foolish Clarendon dithers and dallies and knows not what he is about.
I know it is a great danger, but better to be knowing of it and able in the taking of action with them.
And let the business of it be done upon their ground, the Merrows, at the Cliff Barrow.
Your Lemuel has led good men away from us and fed them false promises, I swear it.
If you see Crevic's men in the masks of my Crayfolk in league with the Mer, with the Merrow filth, then you must know that they are false and not of my company.
[bell ringing] And yet, I know not if I can trust you, Horace, my oldest friend.
Yes, my lord.
What is it? What would you have?
What all the way, sir? It is a cold evening.
Uh, you shall catch your death.
I shall fetch the mare for you, sir.
There are tittle-tattle gossips who would spread discontent, but me and my Marjorie, we have nothing to do with that, sir.
Come my return from the moontide, there shall be a gift for you and your family as always.