Were it not for the fact that she just vomited up frozen water, Felor might have thought the woman was suffering from some combination of intoxication and exhaustion. She writhes as if in the grip of a fever, but does not appear to be sweating or shivering.
Tarlen and the red-haired man (who seems to be Bernike's husband and Tarlen's father) manage to get her upright and walk her back down the hallway, where a few other new people have gathered, worried looks on their faces.
Farfar exchanges a word with his own spouse, who quietly gathers the other older couple and ushers them out of the dining room, closing the door behind her. Farfar rights the fallen candle on the table, which immediately falls back over. He snorts and shakes his head.
"Edvers came here in the dead of night with a wagon covered by a heavy tarp, covered in blood and filth, shaking and raving like -- well, not unlike what you saw poor Bernike going through, but worse. He could barely speak two coherent words. I'd seen him get into unspeakable trouble when he was a boy, but this...it chilled me to see him that way. When I got near the wagon he came at me like a wild beast. It took four of us to hold him down, but the further we got him away from the wagon, the calmer he got, until finally he took out a letter, pressed it into my hand, and ran off into the woods. We followed until we'd caught up enough to see that he had drawn a blade. He told us to let him go, begged us not to follow. So we let him go."
He opens up a small wooden case on the table and pulls out a strip of vellum. "Read the letter, if you like. I have to go put my boots on, if I'm to lead you down to the cove." With a weary sigh, he heads for the door.