As Sir François had said, they rode only a short distance that day. The weather grew milder as they descended, and the sun was shining warmly when they reached the City of Parravon. Orin gasped at the height of the slendar elven towers of the city, and held on tight as they crossed the great bridge into the city, the chasm dropping away below them. Here they met another Duke, the Duke of Parravon, who came out into the courtyard of his castle to greet them. He seemed on good terms with Sir François, as the Duke de Montforte had been. Orin knew from his schooling that Bretonnian dukes ranked equivalent to Elector Counts, and wondered how many people, even nobles, would know them as well as Sir François seemed to know these two dukes.

The stay in Parravon was uneventful. Sir François asked about von Strehlheim, but he had not entered the city either coming or going. That night, Orin was much more careful with the wine and concentrated on trying to follow the fast-flowing Bretonnian conversation around him. He found he was able to understand quite a bit and could follow the gist of what was said.

The next morning they rose early and prepared to depart. They journeyed up the Upper Grismerie, fording it within sight of the trees of the elven realm of Athel Loren. The road then lead west, skirting the Massif Orcal before meeting the river Morceaux at the town of Swandle. They rode straight through this town, without stopping to greet the lord and ignoring the commoners on the street who seemed rather more disrespectful than normal. The road swung inland from the river and over a hill, where standing stones lined the road, then as they crested the rise they saw Ã?lfinfort before them, it's white tower pointing heavenwards and gleaming in the sunshine.

The tower looked similar to the pinnacles of Parravon, albeit on a smaller scale, it was obviously elven. It was stood atop a high prominence of solid, dark rock that towered over the river, and was surrounded by other fortifications of more recent, human, manufacture. Sir François gave an order, and a large standard was unfurled. A minute later, the same banner was flying from the top of the white tower. Sir François looked at Orin and, gesturing to the tower, saidwith a note of pride in his voice, "We're almost home now."

Orin served as a squire in Ã?lfinfort for over three years. During that time, he learnt what was expected of a Bretonnian knight, he learnt of the Lady of the Lake and how she cared for the weak and therefore appointed the strong not to tyranise them but to defend them. He learnt to use the bow, and hunted often with the other squires. He learnt the history of Ã?lfinfort, of the legend of the Swandle Stones as the standing stones along the road were called, of the almost unique arrangement that saw the Baron de Giselles become the Duke of Ã?lfinfort when he stepped through the gates, and of the feud between Giselles and Swandle, with its origins lost in the mists of time.