And then we were on our way again. We had a fun afternoon exercise, where we divided our apprentices in two groups, and asked half of them to guard a wide, wide perimeter around their baroness and her wife, and the other asked the other half to try to penetrate…

Our next stop was the citrus-fruit-fanatic Lord Erian’s White House and village. That’s what Lady Jerna calls him, and when we we travelled through his domains we could see she was right… Endless groves of oranges, lemons, limes and weird crosses, there were trees with fruit as big as a…

When we arrived at Lady Jerna’s White House, I was put in bed immediately, and I think Jeran and the others who had helped with the healing of chalk pit workers, too. I slept, slept, slept, slept and slept! Until mid-morning, when I noticed that Moyri was toying with the…

This journey promises to be so much more important than even the journey during which I married my wife. We’re so many people, we’re so much more important to the people we visit… I had hardly realized how important until we arrived at lord Rovin’s White House. That’s where Fian…

The Feast of Timoine starts at dawn, of course, when the children gather to go into the nearest wood, and celebrate Timoine as only they know how to do, and then they come back to town, singing songs. Today the children from the outlying villages also came back to Selday…

Fragmentary updates… Poor Khushi, she’s so busy these days that keeping her “travel” diary up to date often doesn’t work. So her recollections are a bit fragmentary.

That morning, we set out to explore the grounds of the White House. The pleasure garden had already been destroyed to make room for the regimental training grounds, a pity, but, well, much as I like flowers (especially the edible ones) as long as the kitchen garden and herb garden…

This is what might very well be the first and last completely normal, boring day for Khushi and Moyri before the Feast of Timoine, which is imminent (though in our world, it’s today, that is the day of writing…)

The week became nine days. Enormously busy days. If two thousand soldiers and officers and five hundred sailors have shore leave in a town with at most two thousand people — things get messy. There were fights. There were alcohol-poisonings. There was disease. There were accidents. I’ve written before about…

Things had quieted down — the piglets had been ordered, the army had not been reported to arrive imminentaneously, deliveries of sweets had resumed, and so on — so I thought that this might be the right week for me to take my week in the Hospital. Remember? A week…