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A Song of Ice and Fire

A Quiet Dinner

The sun was beginning to set over the river, bathing the Blue Fork in shades of orange and purple. Beyond the waters, the town was full of activity. Husks of corn hung from every door, and in the streets and taverns the smallfolk raised cups to the harvest, hoping it was not the year's last. Some few, however, in the dark corners of inns and winesinks, muttered darkly about the reasons behind the early cultivation of their crops.

On the other side of the river sat Fairmarket Keep, a stout and sprawling small castle of two walls -- the inner of stone, the outer a timber palisade. The keep itself was perhaps a bit more than any family the size of the Vyprens deserved -- all angles and crenelations, it had been constructed by the father of Black Harren Hoare when he conquered the riverlands and established his rule from Fairmarket. But the Hoares had been consumed by dragonfire after Harren moved his household to Harrenhall, and the Vyprens had reclaimed the castle from which they had since ruled. The more insolent of the smallfolk knew it as the Viper's Den.

Inside the Den, festivities were rather more muted. The rumor had spread like wildfire throughout the keep -- a messenger had arrived at the postern gate some hours before, went the story, and Lord Lucias had retired to speak with him. Neither had since been seen about the castle, and a short time after the stories had begun to run wild, every member of the Vyprens' small court was summoned to a dinner. One from which his lordship was still absent, though most everyone else -- including his lady wife -- had begun to eat.

The Viper's Den had a large dining hall, boasting a half-dozen hearths and twice as many tables. Servants and men-at-arms ate from the lower trestle tables uneasily -- whenever Lord Vypren hosted his smallfolk, it was because there was something that he wanted. The dais, though much better-smelling and spacious, was filled with no less apprehension. The lord's seat sat gathering dust at the head of the table, with Lord Lucias' son and wife sitting to either side of it. Beyond them were Elyana, then her husband Jon, and beyond them the few knights of little renown that the household kept in their service. It seemed as though, in addition to the smoke of the hearths, there was a fog of unease that snaked about the hall.
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