|The Seven Have a Strange Sense of Humor|
|Summary:||In which the Half-Eagle writes the full Eagle, before warring with the Charltons makes correspondence difficult.|
|Related Logs:||All the incarnations of the Struggle of Stonebridge|
The follow letter was given to Ser Justin by his bastard brother, Ser Jarod the Half-Eagle, to be delivered to Lord Jerold Terrick of Four Eagles Tower.
I apologize that I have not written in several months. I thought I had nothing more to say. I'm not sure I do now, but I don't think the roads will remain easily trafficked much longer, so what little I have I should say now.
I met Justin in Stonebridge and he tells me things are better in the Roost now. That gladdens me, however it was come by. I came to know something of Lord Aleister's honor during our adventures on Harlaw and the Pyke, and I would call him no man to trust, and no true knight. But then, I am no longer a true knight either, I suppose. So what do I know? Tread carefully with him, though I know you shall do what you must. The Terricks are long used to having neighbors they can like or trust little.
Rowenna is well, though I think she finds fitting into her life with her family more difficult than she imagined when Lord Rickart first welcomed her back to the fold. I serve with many good men, but it is a very different place than the Roost, and we both miss it much. I wish we had done many things different, though I'm not sure how we could've stayed after the way matters broke. You should know I have been asked by the Naylands to do not acts with I would find against my conscience, and in whatever comes I shall try to conduct myself with as much honor as I can. Ser Bruce has been promoted to the post of Master-at-Arms in Tordane Tower, and I've been offered the post of Captain of the Guard here. I have put off taking it, though. This place still fits me strange, and I know it does you no pleasure that I serve here. I know not what I'll do when this matter with the Charltons is settled, but it is one I feel I have to see through.
I was angrier than I can say when I left the Roost, after you cut my spurs, and angrier still when Lord Rickart embraced Rowenna so warm at the Mire. I would say now that, I understand why you needed to. I lied to you, father. For near on a year I lied. About more than you know, and more than I will ever say, and I let myself be a part of things about which I'm not proud. And I'll live the rest of my life, however long that is, wondering if doing different, when I still could've done different, would've changed things for the better than what they are now. This world, I've come to know, is one where men believe whatever truth want. Whichever makes them richer, or gives them more power over other men, or just that's easier for them live with than what's real. And if you tell yourself that it doesn't matter, and that the lie is better because it's prettier and because you profit from it enough times, you come to believe it.
I want to say that I don't believe that anymore, and that I am trying to be a better and braver and more honest man. I don't know that I'm doing it very well, but I'm trying. And that if you hate me for bleeding with the Naylands now, please know I do it because I think it the only thing I can do. Maybe it isn't the right thing to do, I don't know that there is one, but of the choices I've got it feels the least wrong one to make, given this last year. The Seven have a very strange sense of humor.
I left some things at Four Eagles in a trunk in my old chamber. The key's under the mattress. I took some of the items in it with me, but I didn't want to take them all. They belong in that place. Master Bevins gave me some of my mother's old things when I went to see him, all those years ago, and that's where they're kept. I don't know why I never mentioned it to you. In any case, whatever happens, they're yours to keep if you want.
I hope someday we can speak again, in better times.
By grace of the Seven and your love, your son,