The tip of Lady Signe Lorr’s goose-quill moved across the heavy Crown vellum with the steady, measured rhythm of a scythe cutting summer clover.
In the corner chamber of the River Lantern, the light of the rising sun struck the eastern casement, casting diamond panes of pale winter gold across the deal table. The two crossed bars of hoop-iron lay silent over the gray earthenware vessel, damp with condensation, guarding the uncoupled Returner Seal that rested in the silt below.
Signe inscribed the bold, gothic heading at the top of the folio: FOEDUS TRIPARTITUM DE ANCORA TEMPORALI — CONVENTIO VALLE DE HARTH.
“The title is entered,” Signe announced, without looking up from the wet ink. “The Tripartite Covenant of the Hearth Anchor. Drawn under the ancient municipal prerogatives of the Northern Marches, chartered in the reign of Emperor Justinian the Third. Now, Master Hale... state the primary clause.”
Jon Hale stood opposite the magistrate, his hands resting flat upon his leather apron, his voice carrying the calm, deliberate weight of a man settling a century of municipal debts.
“Clause One: The Office of the Bearer,” Jon stated clearly. “Sir Cael Ardent, Knight Commander of the Vanguard, is confirmed as the physical vessel of martial defense. He wields the steel, commands the vanguard lances, and positions the forward line against the Ash Host. But he does not bear the relic alone.”
