"I thought you dead, boy," Haraut said gruffly.

"Not for want of Derfel trying," Barant said. "Sir Jack came to my aid."

Haraut looked at Jack as if seeing him for the first time. He glanced at Jack's covered shield, and at the blue-and-phoenix on Jack's surcoat. "I do not recognize thy arms, sir knight," Haraut said, formally.

In a swift movement, Jack pulled the cloak from his shield. "I am Sir Jack Harkness," he said, "Household knight to his Majesty, King Arthur Pendragon." It was best to come out with his metaphorical guns blazing, Jack figured.

Haraut recoiled, pushing Barant away from him. "What do you mean by this?" he shouted at his son, drawing his sword. "Have you got tired of being a prince?"

"Father!" Barant said, with a note of tired resignation in his voice. "I am no traitor, and Sir Jack is no assassin. He saved my life upon the road, when Derfel's thugs would have seen me rotting unshriven in a ditch. No matter whose crest he bears on his shield, I swear on my honor that Jack is no party to our troubles!"

Haraut sheathed his sword, and looked at Jack. "Why, then, have you come here, if not to end Derfel's siege for him?"

Jack slung his shield onto his back. "I was sent about the troops Arthur asked for," he said.

"Ridiculous," Haraut sniffed, making his way back to his throne. "I sent a tithe. The boy should be happy with that."

By "the boy", Haraut meant Arthur, of course. Jack smiled. "Politics!" he said, disarmingly. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement later. First, is there anywhere I could take off my armor?"

Haraut stared at him for a long moment. "Very well," he said, finally. "I grant you the hospitality of my house."

Jack bowed. "I gratefully accept," he said. This was important; as Jack had learned early on, the guest-host relationship was taken very seriously in this culture. By offering hospitality, Haraut was agreeing to protect Jack as if he were Haraut's own kin. By accepting, Jack was promising to honor Haraut's house and do no ill to any in it.

Haraut waved them away, and Jack was led to a small chamber. He put down his pack, and his shield, and began pulling off his chain mail. He was looking around in his pack for his good shirt and surcoat when Barant appeared.

"My lord father bids you come to dinner, when you have refreshed yourself," he reported. He looked down. "I fear you will not find our table as full as it might be," he said, "but the meal is prepared, when you have readied yourself."

Jack found his clothes. He stripped off his dirty shirt, and laid it in a neat pile on the bed. Some servant would pick it up and clean it, and he preferred to make their life easier if he could. "There's a siege on," Jack replied. "If you weren't on short rations, I would wonder." He pulled his clean shirt over his head. "It's good to be properly introduced to you, by the way- Prince Barant."

Barant flushed. It looked kind of cute on him, Jack did not point out. "I am sorry for deceiving you, Sir Jack," Barant said. "I did not know your intentions, and it seemed safest-"

Jack smiled. "I understand," he said. "Can I ask you a question?"

Barant nodded. "Yes," he said. "What would you know, Sir Jack?"

"Why didn't your father send the troops that Arthur asked for?" he said, pulling on his surcoat and belting it.

"My father will tell you that he fears an invasion by the Picts," Barant said, not meeting Jack's eyes.

"Do you?" Jack asked.

Barant paused. "If there are reports that the Picts have been massing, I have not heard them," Barant equivocated.

Jack didn't press any further. Barant was oath-bound to support his father's decisions, and it wasn't fair to challenge him. "Well," he said. "Time for dinner."

By custom, business wasn't discussed at the table. They ate meat and white bread; simple but well-prepared. Afterwards, musicians played, and then various people rose and told stories about their exploits. Jack stood, and told a few stories of his own. Eventually, Haraut rose and dismissed the company. "I think that the time has come, knight, for us to discuss politics," he growled to Jack.

Jack smiled, and followed Haraut into his chambers, Barant at his back.

"Your damned Saxons," Haraut fumed, as soon as they were in private. "I sent a tithe!"

Vassals owed military service- their own, their knights', and their soldiers'. Sometimes, a monetary tithe could be substituted. In time of peace, a tithe would certainly have been accepted. These, however, were not peaceful times. Arthur had had asked for men, and Haraut had defied him. The tithe hadn't been nearly enough to make it possible for Arthur to overlook that. Jack stood, his hands clasped behind his back. "Duke Derfel returned it to you," he said. This was what he had been told, in any case. "The tithe wasn't accepted."

"I've sent a tithe every year for the last five years, and now it's not acceptable?" Haraut snapped. "So he sets his hounds on me, is that it?"

Jack smiled. "His Majesty wants a peaceful resolution to this," he said. He inclined his head. "Mostly, I think he wants his men. There are a lot of Saxons down south."

"I am certain that there are," Haraut hissed. "But I fail to see how that concerns us here in Malahaut."

"Seriously?" Jack said, smiling at Haraut again. "You're going to take that tack? People are dying down south."

"People are dying here, as well!" Haraut thundered. "And it is well that I did as I did. If I had sent the men, we would have been unable to defend ourselves from Lindsey!"

"If you had sent the men," Jack pointed out, "Derfel would never have had a reason to attack."

Haraut's face grew red, his eyes bulging with anger. "You dare," he said, coldly, "You dare insult me in my own hall?"

Jack took a deep breath, his smile fixed on his face. "I'd be happy to do it elsewhere, if you'd prefer." He couldn't resist. "Look," he said, throwing up his hands before Haraut could have him dragged away, "I understand- I do. You're trying to look after your own people. Arthur would respect that. Malahaut's people are his people, too. What Derfel's done is unsanctioned, and I'm sure Arthur will make him pay for it when this is all over."

"So," Haraut said, breathing heavily, "You are trying to claim that Arthur did not send him to make war on us?"

Jack nodded. "Got it in one," he said. "Last we knew, Derfel had come here to return the tithe and negotiate your sending men down south. That's the last message we received. I was sent to find out what happened to him, and finish his mission if needed."

"Lies," Haraut hissed, advancing on Jack.

"Father," Barant said, quietly. "I believe that he speaks the truth in this matter."

Haraut whirled. "Boy?" he bellowed.

Barant held his ground. "He did not know who had attacked the villages," he said. "And if Arthur had intended to make war on us, why send Sir Jack at all? We both know that the city will not hold off a siege forever. Lindsey has the upper hand."

"Call for a parley with Derfel," Jack advised. "I need to hear what he has to say. If you want to find out the truth, that's the best way. I'll even go in without my weapons, if that's what you want."

"This could be a ploy to draw me away from the protection of my guards," Haraut said, suspiciously.

"Maybe," Jack said, looking at him speculatively. "But it could be your chance at protecting your people from the butcher who's been slaughtering them at every opportunity. It's your choice."

There was a long pause, as Haraut considered this. "Very well," he said, finally. "Barant, have the message sent to Duke Derfel. We will parley with him upon the morrow."

It was past nine when they rode out of the city, carrying white pennants. Derfel had pitched a tent just over the bridge that led into the city gates. His men had pulled back, waiting for his command. Jack rode on a borrowed horse next to Barant, his shield (covered once again) strapped to his back. They rode to the tent, and then handed off the horses to men who pulled back to the bridge. It seemed as though everyone assembled was holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen before everything dissolved once more into chaos and battle.

Derfel was waiting inside the tent with two or three of his knights at his side. The knights all wore badges twin to the one still tucked into Jack's beltpouch. "Welcome," Derfel said, with a smug smile. "Sit. Would you care for a glass of wine?"

Haraut seated himself on the stool opposite Derfel. Jack and Barant seated themselves to his left and right. A servant poured wine, which no one seemed interested in actually drinking.

"So, shall we set the terms of the surrender?" Derfel asked, smoothly.

Haraut slammed a fist on the table. "We have no intention of surrendering!" he growled.

"Really?" Derfel asked. "Then why did you come here? Surely, you do not think I intend to simply withdraw my troops, and leave."

Jack cleared his throat. "He sent the message because I asked him to," Jack said. He kept a smile on his face, and made sure that his stance was easy; relaxed.

Derfel's head snapped around. "Who are you?" he asked, with the tone of a man who does not appreciate surprises.

Jack stood, and Derfel's guards went for their swords. He raised his hands in the universal sign for I'm not holding a weapon. "I'm Sir Jack Harkness," he said, reaching for his shield. "The Pendragon sent me." Jack uncovered his shield. Derfel leaned in, examining it. The blue-and-crowns were only carried by Arthur's knights, and the shields were extremely difficult to forge.

"What are your intentions here?" Derfel asked, warily.

"The king hadn't heard from you for a while," Jack said, smiling. "He sent me to find out why."

Derfel looked nervous. "How do we know that you speak the truth?" he said. "Even if you are one of the Pendragon's knights, we have no surety that you have authority to speak in these affairs."

"I knew you'd say something like that," Jack said. With a practiced flick of his thumb, he opened his belt pouch, and pulled out the holoimager. He set it on the table. "This is your confirmation," he said, and flicked the switch on the side.

White light shot from the top of the device, and the others in the tent gasped in astonishment. This technology was not in wide use; they had probably never seen a holoimager before. The light coalesced into the near-life-size image of the Pendragon, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Hail," the image said, with Arthur's voice. "To King Haraut of Malahaut and Duke Derfel of Lindsey, I give good greetings, and this message: I have sent you a messenger, and I place in him my trust and my voice to act as I have directed in this matter. He is Sir Jack Harkness of my own rank of knights, and he wears a silver phoenix on an azure field." Arthur paused, his image blurring momentarily. When the focus sharpened again, Arthur's face was stern and commanding, despite his youth. "To my loyal subject, His Majesty King Haraut, I say this: thou art beloved among my vassal kings. A conflict between Eburacum and Camelot would grieve me sorely. Even so, I am the Pendragon. Your hands are in mine, and I will not yield in this matter." The image zoomed in on Arthur's face, and they could see determination glinting in his eyes. "God be with you," Arthur continued. "We hope for the swift and peaceful resolution of this conflict."

And then, as quickly as it had appeared, the light was extinguished, swallowed by the device on the table.