Marchan woke with a start. He had been dreaming of dogs and wolves, chasing him through swamp and briers. The chase had led to a small tower. He had run up to it but, as he circled it, he couldn't find the door. He eventually saw a dwarf standing on top, but Marchan couldn't get his attention. He was watching across to the horizon. When he turned to see what the dwarf was looking at, the dogs caught him and pulled him down. Then he woke up.

Marchan looked around. The sun was shining in the windows. He could see his clothes on the chair beside the bed, but did not recognize anything else in the room. The sheets on the bed were softer then anything he had had at home. He reached out and grabbed his clothes. He went over the events of the previous day as he put them on.

The Duke of Quirnotol seemed a nice enough fellow. A little out of reach to Marchan, but who among the nobility wasn't? Count Ghen was a little paranoid, but it seemed to hold him in good stead. Obviously, he needed to know what was going around about him. He held these lands to protect them and their inhabitants and Marchan had never heard that he had done anything else. After all, Marchan's own town was in his county and hadn't received any ill treatment from armed men. Why these men seemed so suprised to find a dwarf living in these parts was beyond Marchan's comprehension. He hadn't really thought too much of it when his mother had told him he was a dwarf. But, apparently, these men thought there was something special. He wondered what was so strange.

Just as Marchan got his clothes on he heard someone coming along the passageway. He stepped over to the doorway and stepped out. There was the maid from the night before. When she saw him she smiled and hurried forward.

'Good morrow, Sir Dwarf,' she said, 'The Count requests you join him for breakfast.'

'Could you show me the way, please?' Marchan asked as politely as he could.

'At your service,' the maid replied, making dipping herself down by crossing her legs. Marchan couldn't quite figure out what that was about and ignored it. The maid whirled and led him back the way she had come.

Just before they reached their destination, she pulled him aside. 'You won't tell anyone about my impertinent questions last night, please,' she pleaded.

'I don't see any reason I should,' he said.

'Well, please, promise you won't?' she said.

Marchan looked up at her. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong with what she said, but he decided to help her. 'I won't say a word about it.'

'Thanks so much. Here you are. I must go help bring the food in,' she smiled at him and disappeared.

Marchan went into the hall and looked around. There was his mother sitting at a table between the duke and the count. She was smiling happily and the two men were chuckling, though the count seemed to be eyeing the duke oddly. Marhcan walked up to them.

'Ah, Marchan,' his mother said, standing quickly. She came around the table and hugged him. 'You slept well I trust?'

'Quite well, thank you, Mother,' he replied. 'And you?'

'Oh, I slept not a wink,' she said, winking at him. 'I am not sure where my next meal will come from. I don't wish to overstay my welcome with the count.'

'Nonsense..' started the count but he was interrupted by the duke.

'Well, you can come stay at my mansion,' he said. 'And I can truly say you won't be able to overstay your welcome.'

'Nor will you be able to overstay your welcome here,' said the count quickly. 'I owe your Jonathan more than you could possibly consume. Allow me this chance to repay him by hosting you and your son.'

'Well, I guess I don't have to worry at all,' Dana said. 'All I have to worry about is who I should offend by not taking up his offer. I'm afraid I can't stay in both houses simultaneously.'