Judgment GivenIndex | HomePage | GameLogs | HoldfastGameLogs | Judgment Given The Great Hall was rapidly filling up with people. Present were not only the nobles and those who had attended the morning's proceedings, but also various other small folk who, too impatient to listen to the full rigmarole of the trial, were nevertheless willing to attend the verdict (especially as it might, with any luck at all, be rapidly followed by a good juicy execution). So now they were settling down on the benches, good-naturedly sharing apples and plums, and nudging one another as they pointed out Evan Tamm, still holding to his place in the court. A pleased ripple went around the watchers as the other two prisoners were brought in, with Godwyn Hardy accompanying their escort. Donnell looked as sanguine as ever, but Volf looked hangdog. As they entered the room fully, he lifted his fair head and looked around for Ser Corryn. There was desperation in his expression. Soon the prisoners were corralled in place. A pause then, and the main doors of the Hall were opened, and Ser Godfrey and Lady Hardy entered, Lady Celia with her usual gracious smile, Ser Godfrey, grave and sombre. Behind them came Ser Herys Bolton. He looked across at Evan Tamm and smiled faintly. They all took their seats, but Ser Godfrey rose almost immediately. "House Hardy has heard the evidence of this murder that breached guestright - and we have reached our conclusion in the case of two of the defendants. One, Evan Tamm, has chosen to defend his name and honour by right of combat, and we are agreed that such is his right. Tomorrow he will face our chosen champion on the tournament field." Some of the tension in Syndra's expression drained away. The tournament field generally meant a joust. Her father was an excellent jouster. She looked Evan over anew, sizing him up as a competitor. A pleased murmur went around the gathered crowd. A challenge - with luck, to the death - offered more opportunity for spectacle than a simple hanging - and a beheading, although satisfactorily gory - was almost invariably over far too soon. "For the other two," continued Ser Godfrey, and a hush fell over the crowd, "we have reached our verdict. "The man Donnell has been adjudged guilty of complicity in the crime, although we do not believe his was the hand that struck the blow. For this offence he should face death. However, his willingness to testify, and to expose the extent of his guilt, has inclined us to mercy. He may choose between death or taking the Black." "The squire Volf has been adjudged guilty of nothing more than foolishness. He will be returned to his master, Ser Corryn Manderly, who is enjoined to see that he is sufficiently chastised that he does not fall into the same error again." He looked around the hall, and then resumed his seat again. "Take the Black?" Donnell seemed incredulous, and his hands clenched reflexively and furiously. "What sort of choice is that over death? Much the same thing, innit? I didn't do nothin'! You got the guy who did! Why me?" He rounded on Evan, his face red with fury. "This is your fault, you - you - " Evidently unable to find a suitable epithet, he clenched one fist spasmodically and struck Evan hard across the jaw, and might have continued had the guards at the dock not grabbed him and dragged him back, cursing as he went. "The Others take you! You and all your filthy kind!" As he was dragged away, Evan merely sighed, and gave no other sign that he even knew he'd been hit. Tomorrow was going to be a long time coming. Godwyn sighed and shook his head sadly. That was what got people in so much trouble, he reflected. Lack of self control. "Thank you, sers and madame," Corryn said from his place at Volf's side. "Rest assured, the Laughing Knives and I will make certain squire Volf remembers this day with crystal clarity. I would request one thing from the assembly, however. If there is a goodwife willing to part with one of her frocks… something as frilly as possible, if you would… I shall pay for it generously. Humility will be the order of the next fortnight for our dear Volf." He patted the boy's shoulder and smirked. In truth, he wanted to hug Volf in celebration. His heart had been pounding his chest throughout the pronouncement. Until Godfrey began to speak, he didn't realize how scared for the boy he'd actually been. "Well, that was exciting," Rhys said drolly to Ser Anders sitting beside him of Donnell being dragged away. He continued in a low voice, "Now here's that news you've been waiting for." Rhys stood and addressed the head table. "Ser Godfrey and Lady Hardy, distressing news has come while you were conferring. I sent a raven with Maester Merivel to accompany him on his trip back to Clearwater this morning. He promised to send the raven back with a note upon safely reaching home, or to send it back without a note if mischance should take him on the road. The raven I sent with him has returned to Holdfast noteless, scarcely a handful of hours after leaving." Syndra regarded Rhys with concern, then her eyes widened in realization. She sat up straight and caught Corryn's eye. "Guestright?" she mouthed, hoping he'd remember what she recently told him. Corryn recognized her expression and gave Syndra a faint nod. He placed his finger to his lips and shook his head. Frustration knitted his brow as he glanced over at Celia. Something had passed between those two. Syndra could see it. And yet the way his shoulder slipped back, he appeared more relaxed. Not the reaction she'd expect. He playfully slapped Volf in the back of the head and walked back to the main table to retake his seat. Once there, he gave Syndra another cautioning look. Kenrith listened to the judgement calmly and quietly scanned the room to measure the responses of nobles and commoners alike. Ser Anders was on his feet too. "Already?" he said to Rhys, and his voice was incredulous. "Already?" Rhys raised his eyebrows, staring at Anders, but didn't reply. He strode forward to Ser Godfrey. "This touches my honour," he said tightly. "I will lead a search party immediately." He looked around the room. "I'll take Tam and his dogs - a few good men." "All this fuss over a raven," said Lady Celia. "Probably the latch was loose on the cage, and the bird seized the chance to fly home. Send a couple of men after them but we will need most men here - to see this ridiculous farce of a challenge carried out." Ser Anders glowered at her. "Clear the Hall," said Ser Godfrey, rising to his feet. "These matters should be settled with some discretion." But as the guards began to clear the people away, there was a sudden convulsion in the Hall, and a fair young man pushed forward to come and kneel at Ser Kenrith's feet. "Ser ... I beg a boon!" he said. It was Garyn. Kenrith turned and nodded to the boy before returning to face Godfrey. He took a step closer to his uncle and said "I will be back presently." He then returned his gaze to Garyn and motioned for him to follow behind with one hand. "I'll get my dogs," Tamlin said to Godwyn. "Will you be riding with us?" "I don't know," Godwyn said. "We're not going to want to leave Holdfast to the mercy of Bolton's men. For all we know he could be behind this." Tamlin nodded at this. "Fair enough," he said. He strode out of the Hall at his usual easy pace, leaving Godwyn to join his kin. Edlyn nudged Syndra. "Go and find out all you can!" she told her. "And then come back and tell me everything. No more secrets!" Syndra nodded, though she seemed preoccupied. "I'll do what I can," she answered. Ser Godfrey looked up at she and Godwyn and welcomed them with a curt, slightly grim nod. Sewell had moved forward, and touched Rhys's arm. "You deal with this," he said. "I'm going to see to Evan Tamm." Rhys gazed at Tamm for a heartbeat, then looked at Sewell and nodded. Sewell moved forward to where the guards were supporting Evan Tamm, unsure whether to remove him to the guardhouse before the bleeding stopped. At the old man's approach, Evan turned a withering gaze upon him, the docility which Sewell had so recently inspired now apparently gone. As the Maester raised his hands to inspect the split lip, Evan waved them away. "I've been hit before, Maester," he said, turning away. "Do not waste your time with a little blood. No doubt you will see a lot more of it tomorrow." He started to take a step, and one of his guards placed a restraining hand upon his shoulder. "Show's over," he drawled. "Back to the dungeons wi'you." Evan sighed. "Yes, the dungeons. Of course." But he did not resist, and went with them, a distant look in his eyes. Corryn began to rise, "I would speak with you before you leave, Godfrey. It's important." His eyes went to Celia where she sat, and then back to his friend. "Unless you would permit me to stay. Otherwise, I will attend to my daughter. She's probably quite agitated with me by now." Ser Godfrey was looking grim. "I'm staying," he said shortly. "I'm not leaving the castle undefended." He beckoned Syndra and Godwyn closer. "And stay, for the moment, Corryn - if the Lady Limosa can spare you a few minutes more." Corryn nodded and sat back down. "Fine," he said. "But if she stabs me, the fault will lay entirely upon you." Rhys moved through the Hall to Ander's side. "Ser, I want to accompany you on your search for Maester Merivel. It will only take me a minute to get my supplies." Ser Anders hesitated, and then nodded. "It might not be a pretty sight," he said grimly. "I sent two of my best men with the escort - Jonkers and Dobbin. Dobbin's slow, but he's true and fearsome strong. Jonkers is fast and smart - he thinks for the two of them. And there were two others to support them." He was frowning, as though contemplating something he would prefer not to. Then he shook his head. "Yes," he said. "When we're settled, get your supplies and come." "Thank you," Rhys replied and nodded grimly. Syndra approached Rhys in time to hear him say he was going on the search. She held back and waited for him to leave Anders' side. When he did, she caught his eye and fell in beside him. "Rhys, before you go, there's something you should know. We can talk on the way to the tower," she said in an undertone. By her intensity, Rhys could tell it was important. Rhys glanced somewhat nervously at Ser Godfrey, but when he turned back to Syndra his expression was gentle. "You can't walk out with me," he said in an undertone. "Slip into the Tower in a few minutes. I'll be in the workroom." After another surreptitious glance in Godfrey's direction, Rhys turned and left the Hall. "I agree this matter must be attended to," said Ser Godfrey. "But you sent a portion of the guards off with the Maester as his escort. This would strip us of more." His gaze travelled to where Ser Herys was standing, talking to two of his men. "How many men do you need?" he asked. "Two or three," said Ser Anders. "I'll have Tamlin, and Maester Rhys - although I'd not ask a Maester to fight. Two or three more." Ser Godfrey looked at Godwyn. "I'll not speak for him, but would Kenrith go, do you think?" he asked. Godwyn nodded, "I think so," he said. He also glanced over at Herys Bolton. "I mislike this," he said quietly. "Yes," said Ser Godfrey. "It all falls a little too pat for my liking. And I wonder what may be lurking out in the woods." Syndra chewed her lip in thought. Her eyes narrowed, and she seemed to be weighing something. She finally spoke. "Father..." she began uncertainly. "I don't know if it's related, but..." she hesitated, torn between getting herself in trouble and revealing something that might benefit the Hardy defense. The hesitation was a short one. "Last night, late, I saw someone sneak out the postern gate. It appeared to be a... woman. I couldn't tell for sure - she was wearing a heavy cloak - but the hands looked female. I followed and she ducked into the woods, just past the foresters' cottages. I didn't dare follow any further." Lady Hardy gave a little laugh. "Syndra, my dear girl! There are women who slip between the castle and the town every night - although as ladies we do not choose to notice such! Doubtless the landlady of the Goose and Gander could suggest a few names - even if her own days of slipping into the castle are over now." "Perhaps it *was* nothing, Lady Celia," Syndra said coolly. "But I prefer to let those more suited to the defense of Holdfast be the judge of that. Corryn narrowed his eyes at the comment about Odette. "Madame Odette does not, nor has she, 'slip into the castle' as you so delicately put it. And women in courtyards at night should not immediately be associated with such activities. We cannot afford to jump to conclusions. After all, you were in the courtyard last night, were you not? What conclusions should we jump to regarding that?" Godwyn gave an amused snort at that. "That I have the security of this castle at heart," said Lady Celia coolly. "I went to arrange an escort for the Maester." "Syndra also mentioned something that may give you further pause," Corryn interjected. "This Merival fellow. Who was he? And why would he be of import to Lady Hardy? Secondly, I would keep everyone you trust here. There is something in the air and it isn't confined to the Bolton's usual stink." "Mayhap," said Lady Celia, "it has something to do with a Manderly, who has arrived with a ragged army at his back, seeking to exploit a precarious situation. Ser Corryn, you do indeed have something of a reputation for seizing every opportunity offered you, do you not?" she smiled at him, almost sweetly. Syndra glowered at her icily. To Corryn, she explained, "Maester Merivel is a colleague of Rhys's from Clearwater. He and Rhys had been corresponding about Lord Hardy's condition and he accepted Rhys' invitation to come see if he could help. I believe he was called back to Clearwater and left this morning." "He was under guestright just as surely as any of the Boltons," said Ser Anders heavily. "Oh really!" said Lady Celia with a pout. "This becomes absurd. How far should we extend this guestright? A merchant from Dorne sells us good and then returns to his own land, and is slain half a mile from his gates. Are we to be held responsible for that?" Syndra gazed at her, stone-faced, but remained silent. Godwyn's disgust showed on his face as he listened to That Woman once more reveal how little she understood of honour. "According to Ser Anders, the man is protected 'all the way home,'" Corryn said lightly. "For all his foibles, I will never question your brother's honor. And if that's the word he's given, then that is how it is to be considered. Be it from Holdfast to Qarth. I know you were disappointed, but life's full of little upsets, eh?" Corryn scratched his chin, "Still, considering Lord Hardy's excellent health, I begin to wonder why anyone would wish to harm this maseter." Lady Celia rose to her feet, her eyes snapping suddenly with a very real anger. "You will confine your speculations on my husband's health to your disgusting drunken haunts. He will recover, do you hear me? He will regain his health - and live for many years yet!" She had risen to her feet in her anger, and now stood before them all, her eyes hard with anger. "And I shall go to him, and see that he receives the care and tending that he needs! You may squabble and scramble after his leavings like a pack of greedy dogs, but he will recover, and see what you are all about!" She turned abruptly and left them. Syndra watched her go with a raised eyebrow. It was rare to see Lady Celia lose her temper. A hint of a smile pulled at her lips. Corryn had struck a nerve. "Woof," Corryn said faintly, watching Celia leave. He turned to Godwyn and smiled apologetically, "Sorry, Godwyn. I want nothing more than your father's expedient recovery. But that woman is like ice and it is hard to chip away at her without some force. If I misspoke, forgive me." Ser Godfrey glanced at him, a slight frown on his face - but that was as nothing compared to the scowl on Ser Anders' brow at Corryn's words. Godwyn chuckled. "I am not the one to point a finger about upsetting her," he said. "It's what I seem to be best at." Ser Anders' frown was directed at Godwyn instead but - unusually - he said nothing. Tucking the smile away, Syndra turned to Godfrey. "Father, please excuse me. I have some information that Maester Rhys should know before he departs. Wolf can tell you what it is," she said with a glance at Corryn. "I'll return as soon as I'm finished." She turned as if to leave, but waited for her father's assent. Ser Godfrey nodded his assent. With a small smile for the group, she departed in the direction of the Maesters' tower. As Syndra made her way from the room, Kenrith made his way back towards them. Ser Godfrey acknowledged his appearance with a nod. "So, Wolf," he said, frowning, "what is this information that my daughter believes should be shared?" Kenrith moved to Godwyn's side and whispered into his ear. "Quietly and briefly... can you catch me up?" he asked hopefully. "Uhhh..." Godwyn said, trying to think how to explain what had just gone on. Corryn waited until Kenrith arrived before speaking further. "A conversation between Lady Hardy and Ser Anders here was overheard last night. The subject happened to be guest-rights and how far they extended beyond these walls. Although no names were mentioned, it appeared that Lady Hardy sought ways of violating that right. To his credit, however, Ser Anders refused any suggestion of this and informed her that guest-rights were in effect, 'all the way home.'" He nodded respectfully to Anders at this. "The conversation was interrupted before it could be continued." Kenrith turned from his brother to Ser Corryn as he spoke, and his face grew increasingly grim as he took in what was said. As Corryn seemed to draw to a close, he regarded Ser Anders for his reaction. He knew who had been present when he had left the room, and could see that Lady Celia had left before Ser Corryn had spoken. He also knew what Rhys had said before the room was cleared... and hoped, or feared, that Ser Anders reply would tie things together such that he understood. "A misunderstanding," said Ser Anders calmly. "Lady Syndra, at a distance, no doubt did not fully hear the details of our conversation. My sister and I were in some dispute as to how far it was right to escort home a visiting Maester who had arrived unescorted and - by the authorities of Holdfast at least - uninvited. I believed he should be escorted to his home with four men that, alas, we can ill spare, if he wished - my sister, who is careful with the finances entrusted to her authority, proposed two men as far as the Kingsroad, where he could meet with traders with whom he could travel the rest of the way. This morning she acknowledged the force of my arguments and Maester Merivel set off with four men to bring him to his door. And I am as concerned as to the well-being of my men as I am to the Maester, believe me." Godwyn looked confused for a moment, glancing between Anders and Corryn. Then his expression cleared and he said, "Right!" He looked at Kenrith and nodded vigorously, to show that he was following the subtle politics of the situation. "Syndra's a bright girl," he said to the other men. "But she is still just a girl, and she jumps to conclusions sometimes." Kenrith was at first lost in thought concerning something Ser Anders had said, but his brother's words snapped him out of it with a faint frown. "I think gender has precious little to do with leaping to conclusions, brother, but I am glad we have had this clarification," Kenrith said while still facing his brother. Turning to face Ser Godfrey, Kenrith continued, "Perhaps we should postpone the trial by combat until we have investigated? It may be that there is someone else out there with ill intensions for those leaving our home, if a party from Holdfast has been attacked so close to our walls," Kenrith said gravely. "Postponing the combat would betray weakness to the Boltons," said Ser Godfrey. "That I'm reluctant to do. But your offer to lead a party - that could be useful. Would the men you brought from Riverrun ride with it, do you think?" Kenrith nodded to his uncle's first point, and didn't seem shocked that he had just volentered to lead the search party. He had intended to volunteer to join such a party, but didn't realise he'd already implicitly announced his intension to lead it... but he certainly didn't mind. He responded to his uncle's question with "I am sure they'll ride with us on the way out, if I ask... it is on the way back for them. I can be ready to leave as soon as I've spoken with the prisoner to see if I can persuade his youngest companion to allow him to hand him his lance before he dies. The boy is an innocent, and I wish to tell Evan... if that is his name," Kenrith said before sighing, "that Garryn will not be harmed should he help him," Kenrith said with a frown. He did not like helping someone try to kill his uncle, but it was what honor demanded. "Yes," Corryn said, scratching the tip of his nose. "I'm certain the wind must have muddled the conversation. And we are all under a great deal of stress. Seeing shadows where there are none. I need to send a runner back to Leaning Stone in the morning. I can spare you the expense and have him look for the good maester along the way. That is if you're still concerned for his well-being, Godfrey." "I'm concerned," said Godfrey shortly. "I'm also concerned that four Holdfast guards might not have been able to prevent the attack." Ser Anders nodded grimly. "Your men might be valiant, old friend," said Ser Godfrey. Then his eye fell on Vulf. "For the most part," he amended, drily. "But I would hesitate to send one of your men against something that seems to have launched a successful attack against four of our own guards. Let some of your men ride with Kenrith's party - they will re-enforce our men, and allow you to send a message to Leaning Stone." Kenrith turned to Corryn with an open look on his face, now that his own frown had faded. He clearly was willing to accept help and be party to this plan. Corryn smiled, "Of course. That's what we're here for, after all. And we prefer bravery over valor. All the Warrior's gallantry means little if you go over the side of a boat in full armor, aye? Let us err towards caution. As for Volf, I'm sure he'll learn that soon enough. A fortnight of being the Knives lady wench will stiffen his backbone as strong as oak, eh?" He stood up and joined Kenrith. "Come, good ser. I'll introduce you to the men shall I? They're probably settling down to dinner by now. You can eat with us and get to know the people at your side. And join us in taunting our dear rabbit here." "There is still a good bit of daylight left, and I had hoped to leave sooner than later... but I must confess it will be at least a quarter of an hour before I can meet you by your men. I will not tarry, so that it is no longer than it must be, Ser Corryn," Kenrith said as he sketched a bow to the elder knights present and patted his brother across the shoulders before striding out of the room. Corryn paused and glanced over at Godfrey, "With your leave, of course. Old sod." Ser Godfrey inclined his head with infinite politeness - only ine who knew him well would see the amusement in his eyes. "You have my leave to depart." Corryn lightly thumped his friend on the shoulder with a fist, "I thank you. And we'll dine together later, I hope. Fathers and daughters, eh. Who'd have thought /that/ would happen?" He nodded to the others, "Godwyn. Anders." And then headed toward the courtyard. He glanced at Ser Anders and Godwyn. "We need to establish how we divide our forces on this. With you and Kenrith away, Godwyn will take over your duties. I want you to name him as your deputy as Captain of the Guard." Godwyn blinked in surprise. "He's a boy," said Ser Anders, looking at Godwyn with contempt. "And an ill-disciplined one - like those hounds he trails everywhere. Useful in his way - but unfit to have command of men." Godfrey looked at Godwyn too, but his gaze was intent. "Well?" he asked. "Is he right?" Rhys walked in through the door, looking for Ser Anders. He spied the Captain walked over toward their group. Godwyn met Anders' gaze and held it while the man expressed his unflattering opinion of his fitness. After his uncle spoke Gowyn held Anders' eyes for another long moment, before turning to look at Godfrey. "A boy no longer, whatever Ser Anders and his sister think," he answered. "They've seen me as nothing but a bother to them for so long that they can't see me as anything else now." He shrugged. "Truth be told, I haven't gone out of my way giving them any reason to up till now. Why should I? But you'll never know what I can do if you don't give me the chance to show you. And as for discipline..." his eyes went back to Anders. "I can keep my mouth shut when I know it's important, and even the good Ser will have to admit that I can't be moved from what I know is right." After hearing Godwyn's tone of voice and the content of his reply, Rhys hung back unobtrusively, feeling he didn't belong in this conversation. He nodded at Ser Anders, then turned and left the Hall to wait out in the courtyard. "You'll have your chance," said Godfrey, an implacable note in his voice. He was speaking to Godwyn, it seemed, but he was watching Ser Anders. Ser Anders was frowning. "Very well. It seems I have no choice. But I would think twice before putting the defence of Holdfast in my absence in the hands of an untested youth." "We must all face tests," said Ser Godfrey, "and this may be the first of many that Godwyn will face. Do you accept the charge, nephew?" "Aye, Ser, I do," Godwyn answered without hesitation. Then he looked at Anders again. "And whatever you think of me, Ser Anders, I know your worth. I have watched you long enough. I am your deputy, Ser, and I ask your advice and orders on how to best defend Holdfast while you are gone." Ser Anders looked at him searchingly, as though attempting to detect satire. Then, with the fluency of one who used his own memory rather than paper for recording details, he outlined the watches he had stationed, the guard rotas, outlining the positions they were taking, the equipment and preparations that had been made, the emergencies he had planned for. It was meticulous and impressive. It was also clear, although not stated, that he was defending Holdfast not only against the Bolton visitors, but also against the Manderley force who were camped at their gates. Godwyn shared Anders' distaste for paperwork, and thanks to the maester's teaching his memory for details was excellent. He listened closely as the older man spoke, then repeated everything back word for word. He frowned slightly as he recited the details that made it clear the Manderley men were being regarded as a threat as well, but then a thoughtful expression crossed his face, and he nodded to himself as he continued his recitation. At the conclusion, Ser Anders gave a curt nod. "Make sure you hold fast to that, boy. I should be no more than a day away - but a lot can happen in that time." He looked at Ser Godfrey as though he would have said more but - contenting himself with a little nod - he strode away. Ser Godfrey was watching Godwyn thoughtfully. "Well?" he said. "How like you the charge?" Godwyn thought about it for a while before answering. "I don't," he said finally. "Anders is a better captain than I am, far better, and I don't like the safety of Holdfast depending on me, when I am still untried. But there's no one else to do the task. You need to worry about..." Godwyn gestured vaguely at the hall around them, trying to put the words together, "...about all the big things that are going on. Without worrying about all the little things." He thought a bit longer, then added. "I'm not saying I can't do it, you understand. Just that I wish I was better than I am." "But the way you improve is through experience," said Ser Godfrey. "If your father had listened to me you would have .. ah well. Too late now." He smiled at Godwyn, a little bleakly. "Now," he said, "do you want to inspect your men? It might also be an idea, before the word of your new appointment becomes generally known, to study the deployment of our ... ah ... guests." Godwyn nodded. "That's a good idea," he said. He looked at his uncle, then said carefully, "Ser Anders is right, isn't he? In setting things up so that we're as prepared for trouble from Corryn's men as we are from the Boltons. It doesn't matter who someone is, or how much we trust them, for the safety of Holdfast we have to consider everyone as a possible threat. Even if it were Lord Stark and his men out there, we'd want to be ready, just in case. History is full of fallen houses who thought they knew who they could trust." Ser Godfrey nodded. "Indeed," he said. "Ser Corryn is my oldest, and dearest friend ... but if he were forced to choose between House and friendship ... well, I would prefer Holdfast to be well fortified against that time. And he, I am sure, would do no less if I appeared at White Harbour with a fighting force." He rested his hand on Godwyn's shoulder. "Go and see what you can do," he said. "I hoped, one day, that you and Gavrin, together ... Ah well. The gods dispose matters as they think best." Godwyn nodded. "Aye," he said. And he left, to see that the men were all in place and acting according to the orders given by Ser Anders. The first people he saw were Rhys and Tamlin, talking together in the courtyardyard while their horses were being prepared. |
