Punzel's Private Journal

February the 4th, and a Sunday

Martel was a bit stronger today, and did venture into the Sunset Room for a little while to talk with friends. Luckily, he kept his stubbornness in check, and did not walk alone except those few yards, and then lay quite meekly on the sofa. He was about for only a few bells, and then retired into my room and lay in a deep sleep the rest of the day, which I can only think is good for his healing. I often went to the room to verify that he was doing well, and his sleep has been much more calm than yesterday.

While Martel was sleeping today, I went about some business necessary for the planning of Edanya's ritual this coming Wednesday eve, and in the late eve even talked a while with Lobo and Katherine. I told them, at long last, after these many months of our friendship, that I do not believe in their theories of memory. It was a difficult conversation, for they both profess to be relatives from a previous life, from numerous previous lives, and I simply do not believe it. I believe that they believe it ... but I must admit that I do not believe that we can encounter others from our pasts here. I believe we may encounter others who remind us of folk we knew in our pasts, or think we knew ... but I believe we cannot trust those memories we recover in this place. There are folk I trust here who have told me that they have learned this from those who should know, and I believe them.

And so I retire, hiding this journal in its usual place, lest Martel should find it if he wakes before I do, for he does still sleep in my bed. I again will retire on this nest I have made of chemises on the floor, which does not lead to restful sleep, for yestereve I had nightmares. I remember little except the face of a woman, a small woman with long dark hair ... and I remember being unable to fight ... my sword would not come from its scabbard ... and I could not run, and could not call for help. I woke frightened and glad of Martel's breathing in the dark.

February the 5th, and a Monday

Little of import today, for Martel did still sleep much of the day and seems to heal well. In the eve, however, I did talk quite a long while with ser Morte, and enjoyed myself surprisingly much. He did request to speak with me to learn what I know of sera Hetchel, and as I was willing, I did ask if he might trade information with me, as he does seem to do so with others. And so in return, I did ask him of his intentions toward my sister sera Kiera and her oath-kin, and he did honorably and honestly reply, and I was reassured that he does mean no ill to those I care for ... though Duraze's persistent antagonism may earn him increasing displeasure, which surprises me not.

I did also learn today, much to my pain, that there are folk who apparently do believe that all of my efforts in this place are selfishly motivated, that all of my attempts to help others are merely ploys to attain status as one of Her Majesty's Honored Guests ... and that I am therefore viewed by the Court as crass and power-hungry. I found this most distressing, and was momentarily tempted to abandon all of my projects, but in the next moment realized that to do such would be to abandon those people whom I have been trying to help. And so, even if my actions are misunderstood and reviled by the Court, I will continue to do what I can for those who live in the Outer Bailey, and in service to Her Majesty, whether it be recognized as such or no. But I must admit to feeling hurt. Being unrecognized for my hard work, when others were honored, was a blow, but this is much worse ... to feel that I am in fact reviled for my efforts! Mayhap the best way to redeem my own honor in this is to continue to help as much as I can, even knowing that no reward -- and only ridicule -- awaits me. So be it. I only hope that bad opinion of me in the Inner Bailey does not harm Martel's prospects.

February the 6th, and a Tuesday

This eve sera Mintle did surprise me most unhappily by telling me of a dishonesty which I cannot approve. We quarreled most seriously, with the end result that she has pushed me away, refused my friendship. I have no more strength to fight her in this. In some ways, she was closest to my heart of any, and so this ending brings me great grief, and I have spent my eve in amazed tears. Since first we met, my friendship with her has been a constant struggle to convince her that she was worthy of those things good in the world, but I cannot fight her every moment of every day ... I am not that strong. And yet I feel that I have abandoned her, have been defeated in my quest to aid her ... defeated by the woman herself. I cannot help someone against her own will, especially one whose will is so strong.

February the 7th, and a Wednesday

Edanya's ritual was this eve, and I believe she now is free of Duvessa's spirit. Though she did die during her binding these three months ago, some small amount of Duvessa's soul had survived, and had found a host in Edanya's body, without Edanya's permission or knowledge. As time went on, Duvessa's presence in Edanya's body grew increasingly disruptive, and so this eve the First Initiate did lead us in a ritual to divide their two souls, leaving Edanya's body her own again. Many friends helped with the ritual, for it required Edanya, First Initiate Elea, myself, and six men and six women. I regret to say that ser Cedric and Seeker Margaret had committed to be there for this crucial event, but sent no word of any kind, and simply did not arrive. Ser Kaine, too, did not arrive until so late that we had already found a replacement for him (and, most humiliatingly, he did happen upon me in the baths wearing only my wet chemise). Luckily, many others were willing to help: Duraze, Martel, ser Andrew, Robert, Lobo, and ser Sylandros were the men; Kiera, Anabeth, Chorus, sera Cassandra, sera Avaria, and sera Linnet were the women. The ritual went well, with only one misspeak by Duraze, which seemed not to ruin the effect, for Edanya afterward was well, and the bracer was removed from her arm. It is now hoped that at length some new home will be found for Duvessa's soul, which we did see coalesce and embody the bracer. I am so grateful to all of these friends for their help to my oath-sister, and so happy that she is again free.

And later in the eve, Chorus, Duraze, and Mintle did seek to speak with me, and Mintle and I did make amends, and she is again my friend, much to my relief and joy. She also, it seems, is my oath-brother's love ... and seeing them both so happy was a balm to my soul. A happy day, and now I retire.

February the 8th, and a Thursday

What a sad, sad eve. It breaks my heart to write this but ... this eve Martel did decline a knighthood that was offered him ... did decline it for an oath he had made to his faithless oath-siblings. For these long months now, he has been alone with no triad, though Arrion and Brahm have been too cowardly to officially leave the guild. When they did join the Duelists, they swore an oath to Martel, they swore that they would always, for the rest of their lives be one another's strength, to seek to support each other ... to be three but always as one. ... to lay down their lives for their oaths and for each other. These are the words of the oath they swore, and which my triad too swore so recently. And though Arrion and Brahm did swear this oath, they have lent Martel no strength, offered him no support ... not even shown their faces, let alone lain down their lives for him. They have utterly abandoned him these long months ago, and yet he has remained loyal to them in their faithlessness.

This eve, finally, was too much. Martel sacrificed to these faithless oath-kin his brightest dream, his one true dream since awakening: the knighthood. And in the aftermath he did feel their betrayal most keenly, and knew that he could no longer be their brother, could no longer hold true to oaths they had broken so freely. The pain in his eyes I shall never forget. To see his one dream vanish before him, and then in the next breath to admit the faithlessness of those closest to him ... such a hard burden to bear!

At the Duelists' meeting this eve, after Martel had done what he felt he must and declined the great honor offered to him by the Court, we who were present of the guild did vote unanimously to banish Arrion and Brahm from our ranks, to free them of their oaths, and Martel too of the oaths he had sworn to them. And so, most cruelly of all, Martel now would be free to accept the honor that he did decline only a matter of hours ago. His heart is broken thrice in one eve, and I cannot stop weeping for his pain.

February the 9th, and a Friday

Today some sort of fight broke out, and it appears that a ser whom I know not ... a ser Blackhawk who had been attacking folk at random and most viciously ... is dead. Martel was involved in the fray, and did draw his sword, though he did not strike the ser with it, and the ser was still living when Martel left the scene. Duren and Robert too were involved, and Duren now behaves most strangely, seeming to have lost his wits. I know little of the matter, but it seems a grim business.

In the aftermath, Martel insisted that we still attend the dance which we have organized with so much help from Mintle in these past weeks. The past days have been filled with so much grief, he did insist that we have one happy eve to restore our hearts and spirits. And so we did dance together in the Seamstress's north room with so many friends around us ... we danced as we did not those many weeks ago on Giving Day, when sera Anastacia did insistently demand his attention. Martel's leg still pains him much, and so his dancing was not so graceful as at the Winter Ball, but being held in his arms in the place where I had so longed for him on that previous occasion ... it was sweet indeed. We quite lost ourselves in our dancing, and seemed to see nothing but each other's eyes. I blush now to remember how we danced and how we kissed in that room this eve, for we kissed as we have only done behind closed doors before this, and I am sure many were shocked for we have not behaved so in company before. And shan't in the future, I am sure, for it was but the romance of the moment that swept us in its passionate arms and rendered us unconscious of the many eyes around us. When we did realize our situation, we did retire to his room, and there kissed and talked and kissed much more, well into the night. Now, in my room, I still can feel his arms around me, his lips on mine, and that is what I carry with me into my dreams.

February the 10th, and a Saturday

The extremes of my emotions do sometimes seem to have no limits, as I go from joy to grief and back again so frequently that sometimes it seems I will go insane. Yestereve, I did wander abroad after writing in this journal, in search of my sister Illiana, to give her an overdress I had procured for her. I wanted only to see her briefly and give her the gown, but when I did find her, she was with Kiera and Duraze, and they did tell me that Watchman Gareth had announced to the general populace that Martel and Duren are to be tried for the murder of ser Blackhawk, and that Corporal Petris himself will preside over the trial. I, of course, was overcome with horror and anger and fear at this news, for Corporal Petris has borne Martel an insatiable grudge since Martel did decline to become a Watchman these many months ago, in favor of the Duelists. If Martel's fate lies in Corporal Petris's hands, all is lost, for I do not trust the Corporal to view the evidence with an impartial eye. The punishment, were Martel to be convicted of this crime, is either beheading or 10 years imprisonment.

Upon further investigation, speaking with everyone I could find who had knowledge about the matter, I did learn that Martel had in fact struck ser Blackhawk with his sword (it was my own assumption that he had not, for Martel did not state specifically whether he did or no, thinking I had already been told by others), but only in protection of the innocent folk in the Refectory who were endangered by the ser's violence. After some half a dozen men had attempted to restrain ser Blackhawk, with no effect, and after the Winter Watch was sought in vain, Martel did wound the ser with only the intention of slowing ser Blackhawk's attacks, so that he might be restrained from being a danger to others' lives. Should an honorable man with a sword stand idly by, when innocent lives are in danger and the Winter Watch nowhere to be found? Should Martel have allowed ser Blackhawk to kill those who were innocent, rather than strike to defend them?

In my talks with folk today, I found that public opinion is so strongly in support of Martel's behavior that I think it not possible that the Corporal could convict him. Watchwoman Judith, who is currently handling the investigation of the incident, stated to me that she believed that if all evidence was viewed, Martel would not be charged with any crime. I found also that there seems to be much confusion, for it seems that Martel has not even been charged, and I now wonder if Watchman Gareth did speak out of turn yestereve, announcing his own thoughts as if they were facts. If this is true, no more shall he be friend of mine ... for a figure of public respect, announcing that a man is to be tried for murder ... if this was not true, then it was slander!

How I wish I could speak to the Armsman! But I have not seen him in some days, since he did decline the knighthood in favor of pursuing his duties to the Outer Bailey and the Winter Watch. I have longed to tell him of my respect for this decision, and now also to ask his thoughts on this grievous matter. For I do trust his honor and duty implicitly, and know that no matter his own feelings toward Martel, he would judge the case fairly and impartially. The Corporal is a man of so little honor ... I respect him only as he represents Her Majesty Queen Vivienne, and no further. I have seen him incite public discord, and offer purposeful offense to honorable folk. There is no honor in this. If, in fact, Martel is tried, we must ensure that it is the Royal Guard and Sir Alrik who do oversee this, for all must know that Corporal Petris would be prejudiced. I know that an impartial eye would acquit Martel, but I also know that Corporal Petris would do everything in his power to see Martel convicted.