In a small tower set on the far side of an old castle that sat hidden by a mountain range and older woman bent down and spoke softly; "My Lady the King is riding up the way he will be here shortly." The Queen rested uneasy in her chair. She had been in labor since the night before, her husband was on his way back from a campaign in the western lands. Hearing the sound of metal clad boots thundering towards her the Queen caught her breath, her husband stopped dead in his tracks at the door way. A tall figure in a dark hood stood over his wife with a boney hand on one of her shoulders and a sword drawn in the other. "My King." The voice boomed,