Lys: Trouble Lies Heavily

...In a far rath, evil lurked, waited.
Waited for word, for a way to conquer the Light.
There was a traitor, a man who knew the way.

He knew the way to the hiding place of the Light of Albion
Its fair refuge, its home, the Place of Peace.
He would lead them to it.

Lord Vortigern, that evil lord, that cowardly one-
He sent another to do his work.
Cunorix, a Mercenary, was sent forth to the challenge.

Little did he know of his fate, of his coming death,
of his death at the hands of the Two Lords of Britain.
His pride blinded him to all but victory...

Aithne, wrapped up in her account of the battle, did not hear Lord Ambrosius until he had passed her by. Her hands stilled on the strings, a dissonant twang betraying that it was not intentional. But he ignored her and went out.

She wondered what to make of it. There was no reason for her to expect him to sit and listen, or speak to her, and she thought if he did it would be disconcerting. But she wondered if he ignored her out of displeasure with her song. She herself knew it was not very good. It existed simply as a means for her to process the events of the past few days. It was good for her to do it. She had no intention of singing it for the lords and Companions- not in this form, at least. It would need much work before that could happen.

Thinking over his exit, she noticed something she hadn't at first. Her lord's shoulders weighed heavy with something, as though he was about to venture on some task he did not like, or had already done it. It could not be the death of Cunorix- she knew enough about him to know that he would not be weighed down over it. No, it was something else...

"Our Lord Ambrosius just signed his own death warrant."

Cathair's words came back to her. The knife. Now that Cunorix had been dealt with, it was time to address the matter of the knife. Of course. She wondered if the Guttersnipe knew her lord was leaving, and wondered if she should seek the girl out.