Tallis Steelyard


I have often said I would never accept a position with the old aristocracy. It is not that they don’t pay. It isn’t even as if they don’t value poetry. After all many of them are perfectly accomplished in the older forms. It’s just that they are not content to let you be a poet, you have entered their service and they keep finding jobs for you. Still I confess that I have, after a fashion, broken the rule. I am court poet for Lord Artor.

Lord Artor is the current head of the family, a family which is frankly penurious. Their vast lands and grand estates have shrunk to a modest manor house which stands in its own grounds on the edge of Dilbrook. The grounds are not extensive. Large enough to keep a couple of horrocks for milk, and a large vegetable garden. Certainly not enough to maintain…

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