The bard laughed with delight as he played on while the wind whipped around her, billowing skirts and tresses as if purposefully teasing her. While his eyes never left her, Tambernanny noted the slip of cloth as it floated upon the breeze. The fiddle crescendoed into a flourish of a finish. Was it pure chance that the last note was struck just as the glass doors clicked behind Seraphina? Or was he so skilled a performer that he had somehow timed the end of the song to end at the exact same moment that the doors shut? Either way, the servants and guards watching the spectacle clapped wildly in appreciation of his show, some exclaiming outright that they had never seen the like before! Tambernanny turned to grin at them all. He snatched the floating scrap of cloth from the air without even looking at it, holding it high above his head in triumph as though the lady had just graced him with her favor before a tourney before bowing with a wild flourish of his own to the assembled crowd. Turning back around to the windowed doors, he kissed the lace handkerchief before tucking it into doublet while seeming to still see Seraphina within her suite.

***

Later that afternoon, Lord De'Vance summoned both Broadmere and Seraphina to attend him in a small, private office. The matter of the minstrel's claims seemed simple enough when presented earlier, only so bizarre a settlement gnawed at the Baron's mind. Broadmere having obtained more information, the Baron wanted to know then the whole of the matter and the manner of man who so brazenly disrupted his court with calumny. At his daughter's arrival, though, Lord De''Vance could only smile as he bade her sit. "Dearest child. I know that I normally do not involve you in such legal hearings; I have never sought to burden you more than needed with affairs of state. Only as this... person's claim... is one that has it roots within our family's past, I wish the future generations to know the matter settled." He nodded to Broadmere to begin once his daughter was seated besides him at the small table.

"My dearest Lord and Lady," the ancient Seneschal began as he stood before them opposite the table, "As commanded, I have set my head and hands to the task appointed by your more noble selves. What I have to report is both reassuring and... troubling... at the same time." He laid out before them several scrolls and parchments of varying aged yellows.

Lord De'Vance waved a hand negligently. "Be not so concerned, Broadmere. I can not fault you for the evidence you may bear, as it will be no different if another should speak of it. Although, I doubt if any could speak of it as eloquently and completely as yourself."

Broadmere bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment. "To begin with, Master Tambernanny's claim is correct in all its particulars. While the sexton of the town of Wintermelt was not able to gather all of the records I might desire speedily, enough were produced to vouchsafe the minstrel's person. He is the son of Tathernathy, who was the son of Tabernathy, who was the son of Tabernaenny, who was in turn the son of Tamminnanny. Taxes records and local census records of the time list the same occupation for all of them: musician. Tambernanny was born in Wintermelt, that much is certain, although it seems his family left when he was at an early age of life and only recently returned by his lonesome. The lot of land in question," and at this he shifted forward a map detailing the region, "is a... large... one. In fact, it encompasses no less than one hundred and fifty acres along the riverside and some thirty-three acres south of its shore."

Lord De'Vance gasped. "For some family of minstrels? How come they by such fortune? There are farmers generations settled in our lands that have not that much to work upon!"

"My Lord... it was a Royal grant."

A silence filled the room, only to be broken when the Baron asked in low tones, "A... Royal grant?"

"Yes, my Lord." A second document was pushed forward, one bearing what very much resembled an ancient Royal seal. "Master Tambernanny presented this with his credentials, the very same as was presented to his ultimate grandsire by Queen Laurellie, wife to King Marcellus II. It is the proclamation giving freehold in perpetuity of the land described for services to the crown. It would take time to verify the document against Royal records, of course, but in my experience the deed is authentic in every respect." He coughed delicately. "It does not say or even allude to whatever services he may have provided, my Lord, although it is... peculiar that it would be issued and signed by Her Majesty and not King Marcellus himself."

De'Vance decided to leave that indelicate speculation aside for now. "And how came we by the lot of land?"

"Accident, My Lord." More paper. "You ancestor sought to placate radical elements within the Church by granting them land for almshouses and potters' fields. This was a generation after the land had been granted unto the plaintiff's family. As best as I might determine, a section of land roughly the same size was to be granted to the Church for several purposes, including the structure of what is now the Monastery of St. Lucian. Only the area was to be north of the River, not south. Perhaps it was some overhasty scribe or a moment of confusion, only by the time the error was discovered it was far too late to do anything about it! The land belonging to the... er... 'Bernanny" family... had sat unused. It seemed they have a habit of haring off and not returning for decades at a time. Curiously enough," Broadmere added as he slid another document forward, "they have still somehow managed to always pay their taxes. Even though it was by accident, their land was given away without their consent. Land that they rightfully owned and had paid proper taxes on! The penalties that that barony would face are severe, my Lord, and by my calculations would take three and seventy years to repay. And that provides that all of those years are prosperous ones. The fact that all the young man desires is to play for you instead of receiving any financial consideration is nothing short of miraculous!" Broadmere hesitated for a moment before adding, "Or of madness."

Eyes narrowing and brow furrowing, the Baron leaned forward. "That it is madness to pass up such a fortune in coin is without question to me. By why say you this with such trepidation, old friend? You think he intends harm here?"

The ancient shook his head violently. "No. No, I can not believe the young man means any harm. I have interviewed him as to his character, and I believe him as to his desires. That does not mean he is harmless, however. My lord... Whilst he and I spoke, I spotted something about his wrist. A leather shackle or bracelet with torn loops upon it. I have seen such adornment before in my youth, my Lord. Before the Church gave sanctuary to those who were simple or touched in the head, it was common practice to 'bell' them. Thick leather straps ringed with small bells would be bolted to their wrists or ankles so as to give others fair warning of their location. Master Tambernanny's accoutrement bears resemblance to such only with the bells torn away. I can not say who might have belled him or for what purpose, the practice having fallen out of use long before you were born yourself."

Broadmere shrugged as he gave his conclusions. "So it is reassuring that despite the validity of his claim, it is only a small price to pay and have it wiped away. It is troubling because he may well be mad. Confining him until the matter is settled in full would look badly on you, and so until such time we have little choice than to let him wander freely about your halls."