I was awakened the next morning by an insistent knock on my chamber door, before the first light had even crept into the sky. I crossed the room and slid back the bolt to find Garrick in the doorway, solemnly officious expression firmly in place. "Lord Brisbane requests your presence in the great hall as soon as you are dressed," he informed me with grave politeness. I nodded, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness that threatened to send me back to sleep. Stifling a yawn with one hand, I waved a hand at him, motioning toward the door. He left, his footfalls echoing sharply and then fading into silence. I dressed slowly and without enthusiasm, being no great enthusiast of rising early, as well as mildly perturbed by the summons. I found Morgan occupying his customary place at the head of the immense banquet table; he did not turn toward the door at the sound of my approach, and it seemed to me that he must be deep in thought. As I drew nearer, he lifted a hand in a gesture that managed to be at once a greeting and an invitation to join him; it was not until I sat down that he actually lifted his chin and looked at me, his mouth slanting a bit in his characteristic half grin. "I see you've finally managed to drag your carcass out of bed," commented my host with a degree of good cheer that I found ominous. "Apparently, I am not quite the morning person that you are," I grumbled, as he poured water into a goblet and slid it across the table toward me. I drank it gratefully; it seemed to clear some of the cobwebs. "It isn't even daylight yet. Oh, by the way," I added, dipping my chin toward the clean shirt I had put on, "thank you for the clothing." I had been outfitted by Garrick before bed the previous evening, and now possessed more of a wardrobe than I had ever had at home. On the one hand, I felt much improved; on the other, I wondered how deeply I was going to be indebted to Morgan. "It was as much for my benefit as yours," he replied, "the ones you had on could have stood up on their own. You should eat; it's nearly dawn. " "I know ... is there a daylight deadline for breakfast?" I asked, blankly. "You don't remember?" he asked, faintly amused. For a moment, I didn't -- then I recalled the incident in the courtyard yesterday. "The execution. I remember," I replied, producing a reasonable facsimile of a smile. The faintest touch of pale blue brightened the arrowslit windows; I sensed the tension in Morgan growing along with the light, and forced myself to swallow the food in front of me. He stood abruptly, and prowled across the room and back again, before coming to a halt in an aggressive hipshot slouch in front of the fireplace. "It is time," he said, without looking away from the flames, "when you have finished, come outside and sit with me. We will begin soon." Without waiting for a response, he stalked out of the room. When he had gone, I could at least drop the pretense of an appetite; pushing my plate away, I got up and went out into the courtyard. (Story/Images in collaboration with Carneithwen; even numbered chapters are in her gallery :) )