It had seemed to her that she couldn’t escape the hoards of people on the ship unless she stayed in her room. “Would you like a drink, lass? One ...f those fruity drinks everyone seems to be so fond of, or some wine?” “Wine would be nice,” she replied, distracted by the view. Then, realizing that the nearest bar was two floor below, asked, “You’re not going go all the way downstairs for a glass of wine, are you?” She almost sounded hopeful, Gwydion mused with an inward smile. He would go a lot. In the center stood one of what Ankneela had come to call “the feathered-ones” - a statuesque older woman d****d in a cloak that was completely covered in white feathers. She had seen them occasionally on her wanderings through the village. The other women accorded them obvious respect. Although they always seemed to pay her close attention, she had never directly interacted with any of them, and had wondered what their function might be. “Executioner” had never crossed her mind, until now. The. More

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