The Frewyn Herald: Home of the Haanta Series

All parents have their various vexations, but for two such doting parents as Searle and Aldus, they can never worry enough about their beloved daughter.  I t was twenty minutes before Ebhlin and Aghatha quitted the servants’ hall; they had done their tea and were eager to enjoy the courtyard now that the sun was come out and the path to the garden cleared of snow, and Aldus remained, watching Searle clear the table and hoping every moment that the ladies would go. They went at last, blushing and giggling at Aldus as they turned into the hall, and as the door closed and Searle was certain of their having gone, he pulled out Aldus’ usual chair and said, “May I offer you your regular seat, Mr Craughleidh?” Aldus put down his paper and canted his head. “Is it safe to sit in?”   Searle inspected the seat. “I believe so. It does not seem hurt. The varnish is unscratched, and the cushion has not depressed.” The joy of retaining his usual seat besieged him, and Aldus ha...

And now, Rosse gets his comeuppance in the form of a certain Captain: T he dining hall now well stocked, the show began: the hand drum   player rapped out a rhythm in four-four time, the fiddler began bowing out clipped sounds, the mandolin introduced a few chords, and a reel was played, much to the delight of the traders, who came expressly to hear an afternoon of Frewyn music and see the traditional dances tapped out by striking Frewyn women in dresses garnished with embroidery and lace. They whooped and hollered when the dancers joined the song, roaring in tremendous delight, raising their glasses and swinging them about to the music, stamping feet and slapping tables to join in the beat. Ale sloshed and plummeted to the ground, the traders gawped at the dancers as they performed their high jumps, the ladies looked on somewhat impressed, the lords were eyeing the ladies and wondering whether they should not like some company for the long performance, and Count Rosse sa...

And we continue with Count Rosse attempting to dine out without his offending anybody: T he alarming expectation of the barman’s shaking fist being held at his side silenced the hall, and the glare, the vicious glower of fury unimpeded by sense, frightened some and interested many who would see the count receive what was owed him. The barman advanced, a fist was raised, and there was a terrible pause. The musicians gaped, the dancers turned away, the waiters leapt instantly to stop what they feared must be the end of the establishment. A few gasps were heard, eyes widened and hands raised   to mouths in anxious expectation, but the sudden solicitation of, “Thank you, Mittiedh, for entertaining His Grace while I was gone,” made all cautionary motions unnecessary. The wine counted and the accounts for the morning settled, the matron had folded her papers neatly in the breastpocket of her waistcoat and mounted the stair, whereupon she heard the familiar whining tones of h...