Ian left the firehall and stepped out into the courtyard. "Marcus!"

Blackthorn's second in command ran across to the Commander of the Black Guard and saluted. "Yes, Sir?"

"We move now."

A half hour later, half of Camelot's garrison moved off down the road to Blackhawke Castle, their numbers swollen with knights who had fled the chaos of the night before. As they approached the castle gate, Blackthorn frowned. Things had degenerated so low that there were not even sentinels at the drawbridge. His hand rose and fell, and a column of mounted knights thundered cross the bridge, Ian and Marcus in the lead.

The next few minutes were chaos as the factions inside the castle realized they were under attack. By the time they had, the archers Blackthorn had brought with him controlled the wall and easily picked off the rabble as they emerged from all three barracks. While there were more men in the castle than in Ian's force, they were in hopeless disarray. It was over quickly.

An eerie silence descended upon the courtyard as Blackthorn dismounted and walked across to where the squabbling leaders knelt in angry submission "You have no right!" spat the angry Petra. "We are the officers of the Black Watch!"

Ian nodded, "Aye, you are. And that is why what you have all done is unforgivable." He turned to Marcus, "Take the leaders and hang them from the castle walls. The rest are to be put to work putting out the fires and repairing the damage."

"Listen to me! You men say you are the Black Watch! Then act like it! Lord Blackhawke is barely a day gone and you fight over Blackhawke Castle like it is a carcass and you the hyenas! NO MORE!! This senseless arguing must end, and end now!"

Ian walked to his horse and removed a bundle from the saddle. He handed it to Marcus. "It's the battle flag. You know what to do with it. Set up guard details. We will keep the castle safe until he returns."

An hour later, Ian Blackthorn rode back to Camelot. Behind him, from the ramparts, dangled the bodies of the traitorous leaders. And over them flew the flag of Blackhawke.


Measures - Part 2 - Letter

TO THE PEOPLE OF CAMELOT:

Know ye that Blackhawke Castle has been secured by the loyal men of the Black Guard and the leaders of the rebel Black Watch factions were executed on my order. Until such time as milord Blackhawke has safely returned, Blackhawke Castle is now declared under martial law. Any would-be violators of the peace and tranquility of the kingdom may rest assured that they will be dealt with swiftly and summarily. I urge my fellow officers and citizens of Camelot to pray to whatever deities they worship for the safe return of milord Blackhawke and a return to a state of normalcy.

Given by my hand on the 23rd of July 1098

Ian Blackthorn Commander of the Black Guard

"There." Ian threw the quill down on the desk and waited for the ink to dry before handing the proclamation to Marcus. The wiry lieutenant read it with pursed lips, then broke into a grin as he read the last line. " 'State of Normalcy?' "

Ian grinned. "Or whatever passes for normalcy around here. Have copies of that made forthwith and delivered across the land. Also... take this," He pushed a copy of the map of the kingdom to Marcus, showing Camelot and environs divided into four areas. "Sir Charles sent out troops before his death. Assign each company commander a quadrant or subquadrant. Inside their areas, they are to be on the look out for Lord Blackhawke, his wife, or this knight in red armor. Tell them in none of the three cases are they to try interference unless the situation seems dire."

Marcus took the map and rolled it up, slipping it under his sword belt. "Milord, the guards at the castle have been replaced by our men. Any suspicious visitors will be detained."

"Good. Oh... and due to what befell our late friend Sir Charles, question the kitchen staff. I think I will continue taking my meals in the firehall, however."

"Aye, milord. Commander, if I may, a question?"

"What is it, Marcus?"

"Milord... what if Lord Blackhawke does not return?"

Blackthorn blinked. Marcus suddenly knew his commander was only now reluctantly considering such a calamity. Ian leaned back in his chair... looked out the window. "Then I suppose we will have to create a regency for young Stephan." He stared at the battlement where Blackhawke's battle standard flew over the wall. "Let's hope we don't have to do so."


Measures - Part III - Never Again

He would never fall in love again...

He stood outside the firehall... letting the suddenly cool night dry his face before anyone else saw the tears. There was a hollow feeling gnawing away inside, and he had not thought he could have been hurt this way again.

He had.

"Oh, Susan... what have you done to me?" Ever since Susan had gone on her trip, Ian had lived with this impending sense of doom, that something horrid was going to tear her from him. And it had seemed to come true, first with Keera's strange dream, and then when Susan's sister Rebecca came seeking her when she could not feel Susan's own dreams.

He'd agreed to wait two days, but that growing feeling of urgency finally made him break his word. He had begun preparing to go after the lady who had won his heart. Then Rebecca returned, took him to Castle Arkanis, and showed him a Susan lost in some desperate fantasy, a safe haven with her long dead father.

He held her... whispered to her that he loved her... told her how much he needed her... how much the children needed her. He swore he would never let anything harm her again. And when she finally began to cry, he held on and continued whispering, pouring his heart into bringing her back . It had worked. Susan finally looked up at him with her lucid, beautiful eyes... And had told him she needed time. She needed time to deal with herself, she said. But when Ian had avowed he could wait, Susan had told him that if another chance of happiness came along, he should take it, Ian knew it was over. And though he knew she had done it for what she thought was his own good, it hurt. Gods, how it hurt!

There would be no future with Susan.

There was no more future with Huney.

Ian wondered what was so wrong about himself that he could not have those futures. There was only one thing he knew now for certain...

He would never fall in love again.


Measures - Part IV

"Lumiere! An inkpot, quill and parchment, if you please." Ian tossed the barkeep some gold pieces as he walked away. He took a sip of his whiskey, looked around the room, then set quill to parchment...


Milord Blackhawke,

A long time ago, I told you I would look you in the eyes the next time I resigned. I fully intended to keep my word. Now, I find I cannot.

Recent events in my personal life have made it impossible for me to perform my duties to my utmost ability. Given the present chaotic situation in court, I feel it is of utmost urgency that whoever is in command until your return be focused on the job at hand. Therefore I hereby resign, and hand over the temporary command to my second in command, Sir Marcus.

I would send this by messenger to you or the Lady Jolieve, but again, circumstances make it impossible.

Written by my hand this twenty-ninth day of July, 1098

Ian Blackthorn

He set the pen aside, wrapped his Black Guard insignia in the letter, and left the letter with Lumiere to deliver if and when Lord Blackhawke returned. He should have felt free... a release from a great weight. So why didn't he?

He poured himself another drink...


Measures - Part V - Heart's Ease

Ian walked the Road away from Camelot, his soul torn and heart breaking. Perhaps Islena was right. Perhaps he was a coward, but he could not do what Blackhawke had done. He was not a follower of the faith the Monks belonged to, and could not bring himself to seek their aid. The meditations he had been using had had some effect, but seeing Susan every day weakened them and he was not sure how long he could keep on before his resolve weakened. He had to hold! The happiness of too many people was at stake. He needed time...

An image long buried came to the forefront of his mind, an image once more from his childhood, of a time before the sorrow that forced him into manhood. He held that image in his mind's eye and strode further along the Road.

Shortly after, far to the west of Camelot, deep in a forest that few mortals even knew existed, an opening appeared, and Ian Blackthorn stepped out into the place of his birth. He had come home, home to the Forests of Green Silences, and to the very spot of his birth. This was the Fountain of Mezumiiru, Mistress of the Moon, and by tradition the birthing place for babes of the House of the SilverRose.

Tall ancient trees towered all around, the leaves and branches forming a roof high above the clearing. Only one shaft of sunlight split that canopy, to shine down upon the clear waters of the Fountain and the stream that fed into it, the stream called Heart's Ease.

Ian walked across the grass and knelt beside the fountain, cupping his hands and filling them up with water, then bringing them to his mouth to drink. For there was another purpose the fountain served, a purpose only a long-lived race such as elven-kind required. The weight of years for elves sometimes was made the greater by the added burdens of sorrows. And so they came to Mezamiiru and drank from Heart's Ease, and their grief was soothed, never wiped away, but made easier for them to bear. So, at least, the legends said, and as he drank Ian prayed to whatever gods there might really be that the legends were true.

He sat back and rested his head on the fountains edge. He listened as the trees sang of times long past and elven princes long since gone in the mists of time. He closed his eyes and slept, and while but a few hours passed among the lands of Men, Ian slept a year within the enchanted glade.

Ian awoke, as he had that morning in Camelot, with the sun warm upon his face. He smiled as he stood and stretched, and it felt good just to be able do that for the simple sake of smiling. He looked about him one more time, took a small sip from Heart's Ease, then filled his water bottle to take home with him. Home, to Camelot... The anguish he had felt over Susan was still there, but now it was not as great, and he no longer felt such deep despair. It was, he knew, for the best, and he would find peace in the daily routine of his duties. It would be enough. He summoned up the Road, set his feet upon it and went.

6/98, 8/98