"Letters"
By
Lady Faedyn Jesseth-Callaghan
of
Melrose/Durham
Wife of Sir William Callaghan
*********
Faedyn sat alone in the tower room. In her hands was the letter William had
sent her. She was dressed in a dark green dress and was curled up on the
cushions. She had taken the letter from the messanger and ignoring William's
uncles demand that she read it there and then so if there was any info that
William had sent for him he could hear it.. she had fled to the tower,
telling Evan that William did not know that he was there and she wanted to
be alone.
She opened the letter silently.
***
"Dear Faedyn,
I cannot express in words how much I miss you. The news you've sent me has
excited me beyond description. Please know that I am safe and will remain
so for you, and I will return as soon as I can. I wish I was in your arms.
I may not be able to, but know that I'll be in your dreams tonight. I'm
still there with you, and I'll always be there with you. Look up at the
moon tonight... I'll do so and you'll know I'm really not that far away. No
matter how far away I am, my love for you will never be separated.
The cold is forgotten when I think of you and our children. I cannot wait to return home and be a father. You must write back and tell me what you
named them. If anything will kill me, it is anticipation. There isn't any
way a moment will pass without you in my thoughts. Remember that. I'm
keeping you forever and when I return I will show you that. I need you and
I'm never going to let you go.
You know I would rather be with you, but it is my duty to be here and that is important to me. So many men have died in my absence. I feel that I
have not done enough. The main threat is gone, so I will not be here as
long as I thought I would be. Be patient for me, my love.
In the short time I've been away from you, I feel older from just the lack of seeing your beautiful face every day. But do not worry for me, darling. Take care of the children and stay strong for them. Tuck my children in warmly tonight and tell them their father loves them every chance you get.
Kiss them for me and know that I will return.
I love you always,
William"
*******
With a sigh of content she held the letter close to her. She missed him,
more then words. She wanted the sex's of the children to be a surprise.
She picked up her quill and parchment and began to write back to William.
"Dearest William,
I miss you. The words I write can not describe the feelings I have. I
am glad that you are well, I do not believe I could handle the news of you
being otherwise. The children are fine. You will forgive me if I wish you to
have two surprises when you return so I shall not tell thee thier names, but
know that they are healthy and adorable. Both have your eyes, I am sure they
will not change colour.
I look forward to your return. There is so much to tell you.. and yes I
have some words to say to you about pain and agony. But I am sure you will
forgive me for that.
The Estate is fine and Roger assures me that the wolves have been culled
enough that they are no longer hasseling the horses or cattle.
There is nothing more really to say to you love, except for you to
hurry home, I miss you, I miss falling to sleep in your arms and waking up
to you yelling at Gavin for some bizzare reason *Smiles*. You had better be
nice to those three squires, they are very young and work only to please
you. Behave and do not get into any trouble *loving hugs*, For you know
Gavin is liable to spread any tales he thinks is amusing, and he is very
easy to bribe.
Love you William, I miss you. Hurry home.
Love Faedyn.
PS: I tell the children about their handsome and brave father and how much
he loves them, everynight.
____________________
"Emissary Arrives"
Sir Tawl Tavalisk, Duke of Glymmere
Tawl sat upon the hilltop and looked down at the carnage below. A battle had
been fought here. It did not appear to have been a decisive one. He noticed
the small party withdrawing from the field across the distance. It appeared
there were women and so most likely were not a threat to him and his small party. His party consisted of his two squires, a man servant and a herdsman for the donkey's that carried the gifts from the King of Dinas Dwr.
He was fairly sure he could make out the King's banner. He decided to follow
them. He waited at a distance until a camp of sorts was made and then finally rode in. He was met by guards as was to be expected.
"Halt! In the name of the King, state your business." The man stated firmly.
"I am Tawl Tavalisk, Duke of Glymmere, Emissary for an old friend of the
King, his highness Arrian Brander." He stated boldly.
"So ya say." The man said, for he did not recognize the man's emblems.
"Yes, I do. I wish to speak to the King." He demanded.
"You will be waiting here whilst I go and see if he be wantin to talk to
you." The man said. "Get off the horse and wait here."
Tawl motioned for his squires to follow his lead. They all dismounted and
one came to take his horses' bridal. He went and leaned against a tree. Why was it with nobles, it was always wait.. wait.. wait..
_______________________
“Red Sky at Morning: Part One”
Aine ui Caerdydd, a Lady of Caerdydd in Llandaf
Captain (NPC)
The day dawned claret, as if the earth was spilling Her blood over sea and sky. The wind kept strong from behind them, back out over the waves where, some said, Tir-nan-Og rose out of the ocean’s grip in silvered splendor. The inlet the ship and its crew followed led northeast around Llandaf, a route well traveled by those who traded or traveled by boat, until it ran up against Abertawe. The sunrise, however, had the sailors pouring libations of red wine over the side with fevered prayers to the sea god, Dylan, to keep bad luck from their paths: red sky at morning, sailors take warning; red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
The “Star of Rhiannon” had been on its journey for a good fortnight, half of that with the sails full, indeed headed for Abertawe’s shores. Three hours after sunrise, the cargo of the “Rhiannon,” or at least the most important of it, stepped out onto the deck for a bit of air. Lord Caerdydd had sent gifts to the High King that traveled better on water, without as much threat of banditry to rob them of their luster.
Aine ui Caerdydd paused upon the threshold of her father’s ship and took in a cool, deep breath. Though born near the sea, the only daughter of the Lord Caerdydd had rarely entered a boat. She found the rolling motion unsettling while within her quarters, but the breeze that blew the familiar taste of salt air to her calmed her jumpy stomach every time. It was reminiscent of the manor and her home, but it also gave her an excuse to appear without warning and go against her father’s wishes. She had been told, before they’d left port, to stay below deck at all times.
Aine, quite frankly, knew the only thing her father could do at this point was send her a scathing letter berating her for her recklessness and willful behavior. She’d most likely barely read it.
The problem with sending me away, Aine mused with a hint of malice in the smile quirking up her lip-corners, is that I’m no longer directly within one’s reach, Father. You sent me away to find my fortunes at court, but I know you and Mother hope that I fail and return to you without honor. Dafydd will be officially named your heir while I’m gone, won’t he? And then my hateful little brother will have the authority to sever me quietly until I either wed, and thus become an asset, or until he does and births a child, thus removing me directly from claims to the title. Oh, I know you, my family… the trouble is that you have no knowledge of me in return. I've made sure of that.
The wind pulled her hair forward off her shoulders like some blue-tinged set of serpents. She walked further out onto the deck as well, a grace to her not unlike a feline’s, to dare anyone to say a word to her about it. It was also to amuse herself with the physical challenge that came with the unfamiliar movements of what she stood upon. She preferred the shifting and fluid weight changes she had to find with each step in order to keep her poised grace through it all. It easily beat sedentary needlework.
Aine, after three days in the boat, had found her sea legs; however, it had led her to another problem: she was now, a fortnight into her journey, bored to tears. Despite knowing very well why she had been sent away, Aine was nonetheless impatient to arrive at court and her cousin’s manor. Though the distance wasn’t terribly far – not like going around all of Cei Newydd – they had the disadvantage of fighting against the current in some stretches, and now had to deal with sails that didn’t, it seemed, look as full as the day before. Aine was certain the need to avoid bandits had a secondary rank to the greater need to take as much time as possible in getting to the capital of Abertawe.
Aine moved to the bow and leaned against it idly, scanning the horizon for any sign of Abertawe. They should have been drawing close. She wasn’t entirely sure of what to expect from the greatest of all the lands, perhaps some sudden, verdant change of scenery from rocks and sea to lush plains. She had hoped to arrive in time for the King’s marriage to his new queen – a travesty on the part of fate if ever there had been, in her opinion, that her parents had virtually exiled her when she had no chance at the throne. Thinking on it, however, Aine wondered if they hadn’t planned it that way somehow. Though far too soft, by her estimation, they were still quite intelligent and shrewd when required. That most never got to see that side, just the honest and good side, only made Aine’s ire grow. For all she knew, they could be spreading things about her in Llandaf to make her out as a monster changeling, just as she had been rumored at her birth, and nobody would believe they had originated from her parents.
She had a great deal to hate her family for.
“Ye should be back ‘n yer cabin, m’Lady,” a warm, gruff voice said from behind her. “Tis not tha best o’ places fer a lovely lass sich as yerself.”
Aine resisted the urge to snap out a sarcastic reply, and instead turned a brilliant, slightly vapid smile onto her father’s Captain. “It was ever so stifling in there, though,” she pouted demurely, the melodic sounds of her voice not something the hard-nosed Captain could completely ignore. Ten days, and he was only just getting used to her voice or form. She could point at it being due to her constant presence in her own room above anything charming that she had done. She had gotten her sea legs faster than her father’s Captain and crew had gotten used to their passenger. The slight distraction was enough for Aine, however, who glanced out at the shore again. “And I wanted to see if we had arrived in Abertawe yet.”
It was a subtle enough dig that the Captain didn’t catch it. “Should pass tha border anytime now,” the Captain said gravely. “Tha wind dropped this mornin’, though. If we becalm here, we might find ‘n eddy that takes us back a bit ‘fore we pick up ag’in.” He looked about to spit over the side until he recalled his passenger. He nodded instead. “Makes me worry, what with tha sky this mornin’. Bad signs.”
Aine nodded solemnly, a concern marring her features that she didn’t have to feign, and replied in a troubled tone, “I gave permission to use a bit of my father’s wine this morning, Captain. Perhaps the gods wish for something else of us to placate them, though…? But I don’t know that I can give permission to drop any of his food or his wealth and not come away without his wrath. These are to go to the High King, after all.”
The Captain grimaced. “Short o’ a blood sacr’fice o’ one o’ m’ men, which I don’ fancy, or tha help o’ a Druid, I couldn’ tell ye what they might want.”
It irked Aine considerably, this obstacle did. “Is there somewhere to make port in Abertawe until the winds and river returns to our favor?” she asked evenly. “Somewhere that we could arrive at quite soon?” If I have to take a carriage, Aine silently threatened nothing in particular, leaving it open-ended.
“I will try, if m’Lady wishes,” the Captain said with a bow of his head. “There is a little place called Conwy, ‘n’ a bit larger one down tha way called Gwynriod.” He didn’t sound or look pleased at the idea, and it was enough to convince Aine. A displeased Captain would mean a displeased Lord Caerdydd.
“I wish it,” she stated firmly, and when the Captain opened his mouth again, she held up a hand to stop him. She knew what was coming. It always came. “I choose to stay on deck, Captain,” she told him in a velvet tone. The blade she bared beneath it could be heard in hints, though. “I assure you, you have nothing to fear.”
The Captain seemed on the verge of arguing, but in the end he relented and moved back to the helm. It left Aine at the bow, watching for the first sign of life on shore that would herald their stop. She wasn’t bothered again until they were making for port in Gwynriod a little bit later.
_________________
"Reminiscing Amongst Friends"
Diora di' Annagar
Mathius ap Cornellius
The garden was full of color. Diora had a moment to break away and felt that she had to just relax for a time. She sat on the bench under the oak tree that had been placed there. She closed her eyes briefly and just listened to the world around her. How she had missed this. She let her bare toes mingle in the cool grass and she sighed. She had placed her hands on her growing belly and smiled as she felt the baby move. Mathius spent his afternoons within the gardens to remove the monotony that came from sitting in a room or in the library all day. From time to time he would use a stick in order to practice his sword routine just for exercise. It was during one of these routines that he noticed Diora come to the garden. She hadn't noticed him, and he stopped to observe her for a minute. He could not help but feel sadness for her as she rubbed her belly. Mathius thought she must have been think!
ing of her late husband and their baby's future. How much turmoil had his family caused? Time would be the real answer to that. Quietly, Mathius picked a few yellow roses, signifying friendship, and bundled them up. He tore a piece of his sash to tie them together. Trying not to disturb her, but also not trying to be sneaky, Mathius walked up to Diora and held the flowers out. "It would appear as if a friend of mine could use these." She opened her eyes and smiled. She took the roses and patted the bench beside her. "You seem to always know what's bothering me. I was just remembering some of the things we used to do as children and how much trouble we caused." she said to him. She was still fatigued but it was not as bad as before. Mathius chuckled as he sat next to his old friend. "As much mischief as I put you in, I'm surprised that the Ovate ever allowed you in their order." Mathius was saying that out of fun remembering tha!
t Diora was considered one of unusually strong talent. "I can still remember you taking the blame for me when I set their mosaic on fire playing around and burning ants. ArchDruid Chamberlain was going to send me back home for that, and my dad would have blistered me sothing good." Mathius continued to chuckle as they reminisced. "Di, are you getting any rest? You look so tired and exhausted." Mathius wanted to ask more but knew that her condition was because of his family. He wanted to do something but didn't know how. "It wasn't the Ovate that had anything to say, but the High Prelatess. She knew what was going on and how quickly I reformed after you left. I think they were expecting me to follow you after your mother moved you on." She said quietly. "Do not worry yourself about me. This is not anything that your family has done. I can see that on your face. You always had a hard time hiding things from me Matti. !
I have run myself almost mad caring for others and trying to hide my grief that I wasn't taking much care of myself. Though now I'm being watched well as my health improves. Never realized how important I was until I was put on strict bed rest by the King's Chamberlain." She said with a half chuckle and smiled at him. Mathius was glad for her support though the thought of it all would not settle in his stomach any time soon. "When do you think you have your child? It might be nice to have a munchkin caling me Uncle Matti." "I believe about a half a turn left. Probably when the snows fall" she said still watching his face. She could see much was wounding his heart and much was on his mind. "Always the righteous one til the end, eh Matti. I know there is much more for you to change but don't do it all at once." She still loved her friend dearly and didn't want any harm to come to him. "I cannot help it, Di. Though I h!
ave made myself accustomed to the courts, I still cannot bear to see those I care for suffer. It has been my downfall as I have travelled the lands. This one is worse because it is my reputation at stake due to my desire for revenge against a family that has done far worse than the rumors that have spread across the lands. I do not mind coming for the bottom to make myself known. It is what I have grown used to being a nobody in each new land I visit. This time though, the water seems deep, and I worry if I will be able to surface." Mathius alwayls loved the struggle of becoming popular within a kingdom's courts. He had not expected things to have been as bad as they were, and it scared him a little wondering if he could befriend the nobles as he had in the past. "Aye I know. But dinnae worry for me. I will get by and I know you will right the wrongs." She said giving his hand a squeeze. "It is a renewed pleasure speaking with you, Di. It has been!
so long since we last saw each other, and now here you are," Mathius was about to say wed, widowed, and pregnant but knew better, "in my presence yet again. I thank the gods that we have come together again. Your friendship was one that I have treasured since the day I left." Mathius decided to change the topic, "Tell me, how does your family fair? It seems like only yesterday that we'd sit on your bed as children and read each others family letters out loud." Mathius remembered the many laughs they shared with each other in that short time frame of their childhood. He wanted some of that laughter now. "My youngest brother has been a goof as of late. He can never seem to say in his clothing. He's growing like a weed and seems to be sent to the tailor every two weeks or so." She said with a giggle picturing her freckled face brother standing infront of the tailor. Mathius had never met her family but knew them by heart through her pictoral words!
when she described them. He could picture the lad sprouting like a weed. "And what of your sister, Murial, and your Father?" He knew better than to ask about her mother. Unless the situation changed with time, he knew that Di and her mother never got along though Di was always trying to please her in some way. He never understood their situation. his family had always been supportive of him growing up. "Murial is married and has a family of her own now. I haven't heard from Father, and I don't know whether he's alive or not." She said to him. Mathius had tried to stay away from grief filled conversations but was in one yet again. "I am sorry to hear that, Di. Was he part of the war?" Mathius would have thought a man of his age would be retired now from such affairs but could not be for certain. "Nae. He's residing on the lands in Aberstwyth. He's not dead, just doing the things he normally does. So cheer up my friend. He has l!
ong since retired his sword." She said to him. Mathius chuckled realizing he was wearing a sad expression upon his face. Then he remembered the youngest of the clan, little Jael. For some reason Di had a soft spot for the youngest sibling and loved to talk about him. "It is good to know he has retired. If I would have known he was in Aberswyth, I would have looked for him during my stay there. He has his hands full for the courts are viscious in that country, cutthoats for political power. How does the youngest of the clan fair? You always had the softest spot for little Jael." When Mathius asked the question, he could see the instant pain in her eyes and knew that the news would not be good. "As I said Jael being a goof, took a prank too far and upset one of the older boys in the manor that he was in fosterage. He got hurt badly and escaped within an inch of his life because the baron caught wind of the fight and put a stop to it. He'll sur!
vive but it'll be awhile before he heals. Atleast that's what the last letter from his leigelord told me. I fear he doesn't want me to worry." She said to him. "So much tragedy, and all I wish is for a little ray of happiness. One day, I'll be blessed with such again." She said looking at her hands. She didn't want to burden her best friend with her problems. Mathius was no stranger to verbal disguise and knew there was more going on than what she was saying. He didn't wish to pursue the issue any farther, though, as he could see the pain still upon her face. Instead, as before, he would change the topic. "So tell me, dear friend, are there any suitors waiting to help you along with your bundle of joy? I cannot believe a beauty such as you could manage to walk the courts unsuited?" Mathius began to smile looking for playful gossip from his childhood friend. Diora gave him a playful smile. "You charming snake you. !
; There is a rumor about a knight that cannot stop thinking of me. He bumped into me in the hallway and accidentally broke his bottle of rum all over himself and the floor." she laughed and shrugged. "At the moment, there really isn't anyone courting me, most I think are in fear of my health, though no one has really approached me yet, dear friend." She said with a refreshing sigh and a smile. "Well, a drunken suitor sounds splendid. It also makes me feel a whole lot more safe within Abertawe knowing that drunken knights protect the lands from possible danger." Mathius began to luagh at his own sarcasm. "Fear not for I am sure suitors will be at your beckon call soon enough. I can still remember Robert ap Morley challenging me to a courtyard fight so that he could win your hand from me thinking I was your bow. The whelp was so determined that he bruised my chin with his new boots before I blackened his eye. Even after that, he still wouldn't belie!
ve that you and I were but friends." Mathius began to laugh even harder for he was not exactly a great fighter. It was more like Robert was a short, plump kid with his father's arrogance. Diora laughed. "Well what about the time that Gellyn ap Gwynthyn pulled a sword on you in the apple orchard because he wanted to get any suitor 'out of the way' so he could be the only one to court me and you told him a bold faced lie about how he could assume that you of all people were courting your own sister and that you wouldn't approve of one the likes of him to court me. Oh the look on his face when you turned and escorted me out of the orchard was priceless." she said laughing hard. "Oh shite, Di. I had forgotten about that. That oversized bear was three years older than me and a mean fighter. He should have been attending one of the military academies. I was scared something fierce over that. The only thing that saved me was his slow mental process. He was sti!
ll trying to figure out if I really was courting my sister when we left that orchard, even after his friends told him that I didn't even have a sister." Mathius was glad that his quick wit had saved him that time. Diora wiped a tear away from laughing so hard. She sighed and smiled. "The only reason why Gellyn was there was his father was Arch-Prelate and he didn't trust his son from leaving his sight. When word got to Arch-Prelate Gwynthyn that Gellyn had done that, he was sent to fosterage under one of the toughest nobles in Dyfadd. I hear now that Gellyn now is knighted and serves the king of Aberstywth atleast that's what my father told me." she said stifling a chuckle. Mathius laughed right along side her before finally catching his breath and settling down. "Those are some of the best memories in my life, Di. I am glad that we met then and again now. I am afraid I must leave you, though. I expect my visit with the king to happen soon a!
nd want to be ready for him. If you happen to see him before I meet with him, give him a good word about me. I plan to settle in abertawe and want to start off on the right foot." Mathius rose to his feet and held out his hand to help her up. She took his hand to stable herself. "Aye, I'll do that if I can but I think you'll be fine with Hawk. He's a good man." She said to him. She had forgotten how much fun the two of them had until they started relating memories.
"That is good to know. I wish to see you again when you are not so busy, and I have earned my freedom from our king. Until then, Di, make sure you get your rest. I do not want our next visit to be in a hospital bed with you running a fever." Giving her a quick wink and rueful smile, Mathius gave her a formal bow and made his way back to his room still chucking over the memories of their childhood.
_____________________
“Red Sky at Morning: Part Two”
Aine ui Caerdydd, a Lady of Caerdydd in Llandaf
Captain (NPC)
Rhianriod and Gwynneth, NPC servants
Gwynriod was, much to the Lady’s bemused feline-green eyes, a great deal similar to other towns of its size in Llandaf. Perhaps a little TOO similar, as it was, since the Captain gave his orders and then scurried to accompany the Caerdydd woman off the ship. Not that she had been waiting for him, of course: she’d sent one of her two handmaidens to fetch men to carry her luggage off the ship, and had then proceeded to glide like a dark-haired swan down the boarding plank a short time later. It gave the Captain a great deal of shock, and Aine was thus pleased at his discomfiture.
He’d even seen a couple of his men bringing up her chest as they stood on the docks for a short time, and the vision gave him immediate pause. “I decided that I should almost certainly bring my clothing down,” she told him demurely. “We may be here quite some time, after all.”
The Captain had barely kept from grimacing at her. “Or we may only be here 'n hour,” he replied gruffly instead. “Jus' don’ go too far. I’d hate ta lose tha wind should it come up.”
She had nodded in acquiescence. There wasn’t much choice, and she grudgingly had to admit that the grizzled sailor had a point. She wasn’t as stupid as she looked, but she could be taken by surprise by the knowledge of others.
What took her by complete surprise was when the Captain proceeded to follow Aine and her two handmaidens into the city once the trunk was brought down. The problem with stopping without warning, of course, was that one didn’t have a carriage waiting, and often one didn’t always know the nobles of the town or city one stopped in so unexpectedly. Aine knew full well that it could change at a moment’s notice, though. All that it would take would be the right word in the right ears, and though she wasn’t entirely sure of the right ears in this neck of the woods, she could bet that the Captain or his crew might very well know a friend of a friend. They always seemed to. She glanced towards him curiously as he plodded along beside her and in front of her servants, and she received a shrug in terse response. “Not ever'one,” he said simply, “will be as nice ta a lovely lass as m' men.”
Aine once again found herself feeling a little grudging respect for the Captain. Rather than set his men to the task, he was doing it himself. She could understand that much. She could also understand that she was still his charge until they made it into the capital of Abertawe, and thus he meant to keep her safe until then as far as he could. She accepted it simply because it meant she didn’t have to do it herself for the time being, and could remain the “proper” type of Lady in this unknown place. She didn’t mind the Captain’s presence, in that respect, but she would’ve been far more pleased at one of her father’s knights. She might have been able to wrap him around her fingers far more easily and with a great deal more pleasure than what she was faced with the curmudgeon Captain. She might also have had a mount, though not her own, to sit upon while they traveled the roads through Gwynriod. As it was, much to Aine’s displeasure, the Captain looked to be heading straight for what appeared to be an inn near the docks.
“M’lady,” one of her handmaidens, a girl by the name of Rhianriod murmured politely near her ear, “if you’ll pardon my saying it, these inns aren’t suited to your kind. Shall I have a word with the Captain in your stead?”
Her second servant, an older girl by the name of Gwynneth, glanced at Rhianriod and nodded a bit in agreement, oddly silent. They slowed a little, and Aine followed suit. The Captain, upon noticing his charge had fallen behind him, paused in curiosity. “May not look much,” he told them when he followed where their disbelieving eyes lay, “but I know th' one what owns her, 'n' she’s safer th'n she looks. Aeron Argel keeps his inn quiet 'n' respectable.” He shrugged at them. “I’ll go in 'n' tell him we’re comin', get yer rooms set up fer ye, if ye’d like a bit o' air yet.”
Aine nodded placidly at him. “Very well,” she replied smoothly. “That is acceptable, Captain.” She watched his nod and rolling gait moving away before turning to her handmaidens. The two men carrying the trunk were waved towards the inn after their Captain, and after a moment’s hesitation, they too followed his prints. “Cliodna save us from fools and braggarts,” she sighed when they were out of earshot. “You would think he hadn’t served my father since before my birth!”
Rhianriod echoed the sentiment with a sniff. “M’lady has the right of it,” she answered agreeably. “I simply cannot understand why the good Lord Caerdydd saw fit to keep his knight at home. Sir Llew would have made a fine addition to our party.” She got a dreamy look in her eyes that Aine couldn’t blame her for getting. Aine’s cousin, Llew, was the bastard son of her aunt, birthed after the woman had been widowed, and the only other male that might have a chance at the title of Lord Caerdydd other than her brother or her uncle. The Caerdydd line was blessed with children, when they survived, but those children tended to be girls in the last twenty years. The sons managed to die before adulthood, much to Aine’s amusement. She was certain it had something to do with the proper ability to manage the title, in a nutshell.
Llew, however, wasn’t technically in line for any of it. He would have to marry Aine or one of her cousins to have a true chance through blood, given his father was apparently her aunt’s master of horses. Llew was, however, a Knight of fair standing in Llandaf, quite good in his own right in that arena, and had two of the qualities that Aine particularly enjoyed in men: he was especially physically beautiful, and he was malleable. Her father and mother hadn’t even considered him as a match for their daughter. They’d been aiming for Barons and Dukes of their own stature, or higher. Aine might have accepted the choices two years earlier if she had been allowed to choose them herself.
Aine had to smile ruefully at her servant’s expression. All that Rhianriod could hope for was a night in bed with the popular knight. He was, though only a bastard, still the acknowledged son of her Lady aunt, who was a sister to the ruling member of Caerdydd. “Quite,” she agreed with a nod, leaving it at that. She glanced towards the silent Gwynneth and found the other woman surreptitiously watching something off to one side of them. “Something the matter?” she asked coolly, her tone more than enough warning that the girl had best not be flirting with a young commoner boy from afar.
Gwynneth looked straight at Aine and never changed her slightly serious, slightly amused expression. “There is a man over to our right who has been watching us for the last few minutes, m’Lady,” she said calmly. “He began trailing us a short ways back, and is trying to hide that he’s following and watching us that closely.”
Aine lifted her brows, and Rhianriod’s dreamy look vanished like fog in the morning’s heat. “What does he look like, Rhianriod?” she demanded quietly. Her back was to him, and Gwynneth was to one side, but Rhianriod faced him directly. She glanced that way carelessly, attempting to seem as if she were only looking around at the buildings and people while they waited.
“The man dressed in dark green, Gwynneth?” Rhianriod asked, smiling at her sister servant. At the other’s nod, Rhianriod brushed her gaze back over him as she turned to her Lady once again. “Dark haired,” she stated matter of factly. “Tall, not heavy at all, and armed. He’s dressed as a merchant might, or a noble… the clothes aren’t what you’d find on a beggar or commoner, at least, but it doesn’t appear to be livery either.”
“He appears to be focused on you, m’Lady,” Gwynneth murmured politely, her gaze still cut towards her quarry. “When you move, his eyes follow you. Perhaps we should follow the Captain lest this not be a good thing.”
“Aye, Gwynneth has the right of it,” Rhianriod nodded. “M’Lady, we are conspicuous here, and I should dislike knowing that a scoundrel is perhaps eyeing you for your purse or your self.”
It intrigued Aine. She had met with her fair share of stares or whispers, jealous or not, over her face and form, but it sounded as if a nobleman, or at least some wealthy citizen, was trying to carefully, patiently, behave as she might herself. That her eagle-eyed servants had caught it meant, perhaps, that the man wasn’t quite as adept as he thought. Unless, of course, he’d meant for it to be seen and reported to Aine, in which case…
She turned and glanced that way deliberately, looking for the man in green, but found only the back of his dark brown head as he walked away. Clever boy, she thought to him, a thoughtful look on her face. He had waited until she was told and finally chose to turn and see for herself, and then hid himself from her. It had been as deliberate an action as her own move to see him had been. She held up her hand as her servants proceeded to stammer that he’d turned just as he’d seen her do so, and they hadn’t been lying, and they quieted immediately. “Let’s go inside,” she told them gently. “Not a word to the Captain about this, however. He’ll worry needlessly, and we may be leaving in an hour, or this evening, or even tomorrow morning. There’s no cause for alarm.” She once more pointed her path to the inn and let her servants follow in her wake, whispering to one another over the strange man.
_________________________
"Coming Home"
Annai ui Grimwahl
Annai was tired. Not from the day's ride that was leading her to Abertawe,
but from all of the occurrences in her life that had brought her up to this
day. She recollected her abduction and subsequent slavery, how she had
become a warrior to save her virginity in a pit of filthy men devoid of any
honor. She reminisced about the revolt and freedom of slavery that beat her
heart faster for revenge against the man that had killed her family. Annai
rode on for the remainder of the day in this mental fashion of rehashing her
past. She realized that revenge was a source of power that drained quickly
after the last slash of a sword. Through her journey, Annai realized she
knew nothing of who she was. An escaped slave, a vigilante, a murderer ? all
of these titles could be placed in writing next to her name. All of these
titles beseeched her leaving her empty inside.
Almost empty for amidst the blackness that swirled around her conscious
soul, a light flickered to fight back the emptiness. Desire burned beckoning
her forward to learn about herself. Her childhood had been stripped and
replaced with shackles, but the voice still urged her forward. A voice then
radiated from the small dancing of the candlelight that began to warm her
soul. Who was she Annai could not tell. The blood that flowed through her
veins from her father was all but buried and lost. Family traces had been
wiped out from bad feud after bad feud. Her mother's blood that flowed with
equal vigor rested well in the heart of Abertawe, on the throne no less.
Annai would seek refuge from the king of her blood and consume herself in a
vault of family lore. Maybe, just maybe, something would be found in text
that would fuel her candle to burn brighter ? even give her desire to live.
Annai thought like this day in and day out. She forgot to eat ? barely
remembered to drink. All that filled her were the thoughts of who she was
and where she was going. Her hair matted and hung sadly from her head. Her
clothes, breeches and shirt akin to the wears of men, became dirty from the
road travelled. By the time she arrived at Alban's gate, Annai looked more
like a vagabond than a kin of royalty. She rode onward and her consciousness
caught up to her allowing her enough thought to realize where she was as she
made her way to the king's courtyard.
"Halt, who goes there!" asked the guard looking at this woman as if she were
nothing but riff raff.
Annai whipped her head throwing her matted hair behind her and out of her
face. "I am Annai ui Grimwahl, daughter of Maribel ui Greidawl, cousin to
King Gwalchmai ap Iorwerth of Abertawe. I demand entrance to meet with him?" The last words trailed off as Annai fell from her horse unconscious at
the feet of the guards.
________________
Rae of Light?"
by
Lady Raelin Morgance
Lady of Morin
Sir Padric (NPC)
Head of Morgance Guard
Along the well worn road, which was deeply rutted from carts and hooves, to
Alban a somber procession wound its way.
Its folk bore somber faces and no smile was seen. Not even the horses, who
walked wearily along the road.
In front of the procession road a black amour clad knight. He was in the
standard armour for the MORGANCE family. With the Morgance Family Crest on
his upper left chest over his heart. On his left hip was a long sword and
fastened to his saddle pommel was a large shield. His Lance, with its shaft
polished, was held upright with his right hand so that its, penant flapped
in the slight brezze that wafted through the trees of the forest that
surrounded the weary travellers.
Behind him were 14 knights spead out with their squires, which made thier
party which had once been over 65 strong, now 35 people strong, inculding
the ladies and servants. All the Knights wore black armour and the sqiures
wore black tunics and pants with the crest of Morgance and the knight they
served emblazoned across their tunics. They were spread out around a
carriage and a cart which held their provisions and belongings, as well as
eleven extra horses, from those who had fallen and 6 pack horses which held
extra equipment.
In the carriage rode three maids, and a page. the lady of the house was not
in the carriage. Instead she rode along side the lead knight. Dressed in a
long plain unadorned black riding dress, her face veiled by black gauze she
rode, sitting stiffly in the saddle on her mare, her gloved hands wrapped
around the reins tightly.
Sir Padric looked at the Lady, who he had sworn to protect. Her father
slaughtered before her eyes. Her mother dead at a young age and her
step-mother only 2 months dead to suicide. She had been through a rough
patch. And now she had to hold her head high and face the court and king. He
wondered if she could do it.
As if senseing her protector's gaze Lady Raelin Morgance turned her head and
gave a tight fiegned smile.
"Do not worry so Padric. It will be fine." Her voice was soft and she
struggled to sound confident.
Padric nodded as they looked ahead at the light at the end of the forest
trail. They had been on the road for nearly a month. And her father had been
dead 2 weeks. They hoped to reach the captial by night fall. And as it was
mid afternoon, they stood in good steed of being able to do just that.
Well he hoped so. He waved a squire forward. when the young man had ridden
up to them He said."Ride to the manor. Tell them to expect us. Tomorrow we
will go to the Caer and present The lady to the king." The Squire spured his
horse and shot off ahead of the procession.
Raelin watched silently. She was dreading this. She was worried more then
Padric was. She stood to loose it all. As they rode further the City came
into view and her nerves grew even more. She handled her horse harshly and
Padric knew she was going to regret treating Storm like she was when she
finally calmed down.
As dusk fell they watched as the City's lights began to light up the plains.
Padric looked at Raelin and watched as her face went paler. They were
there...
______________
"Going Home"
Princess Rowena
Elianor, Druid High Priestess
appearances byThosa
Amlyn
Rowena lost her concentration and rounded on Elianor. "I want to go home."
She said firmly. "I want to go today."
"Yes you do," answered Elianor, dousing the flames. "We all want many
things. If we get what we want, then we believe ourselves to be happy
and our desire fulfilled. But often it only leads to more problems, and we
end up feeling hollow and empty." Rowena had the brief sensation that
Elianor was speaking from somewhere deeper within.
"You do not understand." Rowena was sure that the priestess intended her to
stay and Rowena was bent on going home.
"I understand you are unhappy. I've seen the way you flinch everytime you
pass one of the other druids." The Elianor that spoke to Rowena now
was a little softer, less hard-edged and strict. She took a straight-backed
seat and regarded her with concerned curiosity, her aged hands folded
in her lap. "Tell me your concerns."
"My brother needs me with him. I can sense it. I feel like I am .. stupid
here."
Rowena answered truthfully. "I can't do anything but the simple things. I am
nothing but a child. I am a child. I want to go home to my mother and be a
child."
Rowena had long since quit talking like a child other then the inability to
stay on
one topic for long.
"From simple things grow great deeds," replied Elianor. "It is actually
pleasing
that you find it frustrating to only be able to do those simple things. It
means
you are reaching out for an understanding beyond your years. But... and I
really
do mean this, Rowena... if you return to your brother, you risk not only
your own
safety, and the well being of everyone around you... but you risk not
realising
the potential that you have as a seer. Diora can only teach you so much
child,"
added Elianor, knowing of the Priestess of Morrigan's presence at court.
"She
is still learning much herself."
"I will come back, then. I want to see my brother's marriage." Rowena
offered. "I want to go home and see him wed and to actually be with my
parents before I say good-bye. Not leave them with the last picture of me
as being one of a crime?" It seemed reasonable to Rowena.
Elianor could see that it would be difficult arguing with the Princess. Her
mind was clearly made up.
Before she could make any further comment, Elianor was interupted by a
commotion outside. A voice was shouting loudly and wildly, and somewhere
nearby a door slammed open as if in response. Elianor turned her head
to the noise, annoyed. "Wait here," she said, storming out of her
hut like a bad tempered gargoyle.
Rowena paced nervously. Would Elianor let her return home? She could not
go without permission for she did not know the way. Fagan had brought her
here and she knew nought the path they had taken.
A short time later the door opened, and Thosa backed his way into the room,
dragging the limp body of a man behind him. Elianor was close behind,
clearly displeased. "Put him on the bed," she barked. "Rowena, heat some
water and gather up some blankets from the shelf. Quickly." It was the first
time
Rowena had seen Thosa since they had returned from their encounter with the
Raven. But he did nothing to acknowledge she was there, grimy and dirty as
he was from unknown activities.
"Tis him... 'dyn tywyllwch', I am sure of this mistress." Thosa sounded
excited and wary at once, standing back from the emancipated form
of the rough, dark-haired man he had struggled to dump onto the bed.
Rowena did not pause but fled to do as she was bade. She brought her
mistress the blankets first and then ran to put the heating pot within the
flames she had only recently stared into. She stoked the fire back to
life and turned to see what the two were doing. Who was this man?
He had looked, vaguely familiar to her.
"Do not be foolish," chided Elianor. "You have no proof of such a claim."
She sat on a stool next to the bed and began to examine the man carefully,
peeling away his shirt and looking for wounds.
In answer, Thosa removed a long item from his back, wrapped in sackcloth.
"He held this tightly in his hand!" He pushed off the layers and a gleaming
red eye, set in black metal, glinted in the firelight. "Tis a black sword,
the
one wielded by the dark man."
Elianor looked at Thosa, then at the sword, pausing. "Well... let us see if
he will be able to answer that for himself," she ssaid finally. "First, he
needs
food." She lifted up the stump of his left arm and examined it carefully.
"And then we will soak and clean this wound. It has reopened and become
pustulent. Rowena... pour out a little of that hot water into a dish. Add
some comfrey, rosemary and marshmallow, and then soak the cloth into
the liquid. Make sure it's very hot, then apply it to the wound. I will
make up some broth." She left the man on the bed, while Thosa stood
to one side, his attention focussed on his find.
Rowena stood staring at the man on the bed. Her heart beat rapidly. It
was the man who had stalked her. The man that Fagan had stopped. She
did not know what had happened to him but it was the same man. She found
herself frozen from memory and fear.
After an undeterminable period of time, Rowena was startled by the hand
of Elianor on her shoulder. Instead of anger, she instead heard concern in
her voice. "What is it, child? What do you see?"
"It is the man. The man I told you of the morning after Fagan took me from
the sect." Rowena whispered. Her voice trembled. She had thought for a moment
that morning that her visions were not true and she would die. She looked up
at
Elianor. "He was like a monster from tales. Where his sword swept, they fell
like
wheat in the field."
"Rowena... he is in no condition to hurt a flea, nevertheless you or I or
anyone
else." She ignored Thosa's look of vindication, and pulled Rowena away from
the man on the bed. "Get the water and the herbs and give them to me, I'll
dress the wound. Go now."
Rowena hurried away to do as she was bid. Her eyes often wandered to the
still form as she placed the items in front of Elianor. She glanced
curiously
at Thosa. He had not been around since she had awoken the day she was
attacked.
Elianor began to treat the infected wound. "Thosa, go and speak with Riton,"
she said while she packed the pungent layers of cloth around the limb. "He
is to escort the Princess back to Alban first thing in the morning"
Thosa looked both wounded and confused. "Mistress, I-"
"Not another word, Thosa. Carry out your instructions," she interjected
bluntly.
The young man left quickly with wounded feelings poorly hidden. Elianor
finished
with the poultice and then began to feed the soup she had made to the man.
"It
is late," she added, dismissive of Rowena's presence. "You have a long
journey
ahead of you. I suggest you get some sleep. Riton will be here very early."
"I want Thosa to go with me." Rowena said with small tears in her eyes.
"Please? I trust him. Please?" Rowena did not often beg for things. She had
never had to but she realized she wanted this very badly. It was not that
Riton was bad or not a good protector, she had seen him with others. But
she knew Thosa, and after the encounter with Morgan, she trusted him
implicitely.
"Absolutely not," replied Elianor without compassion. "Thosa is not ready
yet. The encounter with the Raven proved it. He was not brought up to
this stage only to fail at the final step." She shovelled another spoonful
of liquid between the man's lips, scooping up a trickle from the corner of
his mouth that dribbled out.
Tears filled Rowena's eyes, but she knew that tone. She turned and went
to go to bed as the woman had commanded. She knew that begging
wouldn't work. However, her disapproval was clear in her small princess
mannerisms. She had turned her back to go to bed and at the last second
turned back. "I am to blame for any failures that you seem to have imparted
to my protector. If not for HIS actions, I would not be here." That said,
she
stomped off to find her bed. She had no idea what Elianor meant by the
final step but she was very upset at being denied.
When she had gone, Elianor sighed deeply, stirring the broth with her
spoon. Child, if Thosa had been doing his job, she thought, You would
not have even -met- the Raven. There was a gurgle from the bed, which
jogged Elianor from her thoughts. "Sir Amlyn," she said, chidingly.
"Whatever trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?" Yet the
Archdruid Eruic was no longer here to answer that on his behalf.
She stole a glance at the black sword, and frowned.
The night passed on...
__________________
"Home Just in Time"
Royal Family Post
The small figure that had stood at the back of the wedding, entered the
reception. Her guard hung close to her, unwilling to be more then a few
feet from her. Elieanor has promised far worse the a scolding. The cloaked
figure approached the king and two guards intercepted the unknown figure.
She slowly put down her cowl. The small figure of Rowena stood fifteen feet
from Hawk. Her hair was braided into a hundred braids, each with a ribbon
of green. Her dark green cloak hid the wound about her neck and her face
was pale. They had traveled hard to be here in time for her brother's
wedding.
Arianna had seen the guards move. Then the cloak fell from the ground.
"Stand down." she said to the guards. She smiled quietly. "Our long lost
sister has returned. Welcome Home, Rowena." she said to her quietly.
Hawk and his parents saw her at the same time, yet the King was the first
of his family to reach her. He engulfed her in his arms and held her
close. "You are the best present I have got today, little one." he said
full of emotion.
"It pleases me to be home on your day of joy, sire." She said respectfully.
Other then her small size, there was no sign of the child that had left
them."This is Riton, my gaurdian," Rowena said hoarsely.
"Little one." Her mother embraced her now. "We've been so worried about
you." The Queen Mother was openly crying now, while her son did his best
not to. Iorwerth stood there waiting looking gruff, at least trying very hard
to.
Rowena hugged her mother, trying to remain a proper druidess though deep
inside, she would gladly bury herself in her mother's arms and never leave.
Rowena still wore a scarf to hide the raw scar on her throat.
"Are you okay, little one?" Her mother asked. Yet finally the general
pushed his wife away and gathered up his little girl in his arms without
saying a word.
That did it, Rowena could not hold back the childlike tears. "Papa." She
breathed against his neck and clung to him. Riton stood with arms crossed,
his eyes never leaving Rowena and yet scanning the crowds that surrounded
them.
Iorwerth was somewhat satisfied that she cried in his arms. "It's okay,
lassy. Daddy is here, you are safe."
"I will never be safe." She whispered in his ear. "I missed you all so
much." Tears now fell down her cheek.
"I know, sweetheart. Yet you are staying here now, and daddy is going to
look after you. Nobody is going to take you away again."
She knew differently, she would not stay here. But she did not want to hurt
her father. She pulled away and looked at his face and then rained small
kisses about it. Both her parents smiled.
Hawk knelt down again. "I am so happy having you back." He said. "You
look tired, little one. Maybe you should rest now and have a healer check
you over. Tomorrow you and I should talk."
"Riton must stay with me. I promised Elianor." Rowena said. She still
wished that Thosa had accompanied her. But, she had not seen him again after he had left Elianor's hut "This is my brother, Hawk." Riton bowed as was proper but his hand stayed on his sword.
Hawk greeted the guard.
"He can stay outside of your room, Princess." Her brother said. "Let's get
you settled now." He took her in his arms.
"I am not a baby anymore. I can walk." She pointed out.
"I know, Princess. Yet you are tired, and it is my wedding day so I can do
what I want." He said with a grin. "Arianna, do you think Diora is up to
having a quick look at her?"
"I'd suggest she do that in the morn. Diora looks weary and if I know our
mother right, Diora will be sent to bed here soon." Arianna said to him.
"All right, tomorrow it is. Then let's get this young lady to bed now." he
said to his sister.
"But I just got here," Rowena protested with a yawn. "I want to spend time
with Mother and Papa."
"I will take you." Iorwerth said, not a party animal himself.
Rowena sighed. "Okay." She said sadly. She had only just gotten here.
"Don't worry." Her father said when they were alone. "If you promise to
rest for a few hours, I promise to sneak you back in during the feast tonight so
you can see that."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Reception
Sim Wide Post
Hawk stood watching his wife. His wife and Queen how wonderful that
sounded. It had been a long day especially for Arianna, after the marriage
she had been crowned as well. He felt so proud of her, already she looked
as if she had been Queen her whole life.
Speaking to various people, Arianna glanced over and noticed that Hawk was
watching her. She gave him a quiet wink and went cordially talking to the
other guests.
Diora sighed as she sat in a chair just off the way watching the crowds.
They had made sure that she was seated as soon as the ceremonies were over.
She just shook her head and chuckled watching the crowd. She didn't mind
the fact that she was looked after, she just wasn't sure about anything
anymore. She had a smile on her face as she watched Arianna and Hawk
interact with the various nobility and she was grateful for not being in the
midst of it all.
Lady Faedyn Callaghan had found a bench off to the side away from the party
goers and watched silently. She was no good in this type of situation. She
spotted William a way off but did not go over to him as she did not want him
forcing her into talking to people she did not know. She rested her hands in
her lap and wished herself home to Melrose, away from the crowds and people
who looked down their noses at her because of her birth and the fact that
she was raised as a commoner. She did not sigh nor make a sound, just sat
there silently letting the noises flow over her and around her.
Diora noticed the lady sitting near her. She quietly walked over and
cleared her throat. "um...I'm not intterupting your thought, but do you
mind if I join your company?" She asked Faedyn.
Faedyn looked up and nodded. "Of course, Milady." She moved a bit so the
other woman could sit down. "Please.. make yourself comfortable."
Diora sat quietly, not sure what to do next. She had a hard enough time
making friends as it is. "Um. I wanted to congratulate you on you
beautiful children." She said watching the crowd. She hadn't spotted
Matthius yet, but she knew he would make a show soon.
Faedyn gave a polite nod. "Thank you Milady." she was being very polite and
nerves were really showing. "I am sorry Milady I do not know your name."
Diora smiled. "I'm Diora." she said quietly. Diora noticed the nerves on
the girl. "You can relax and not be so formal around me. I'm just a
healer."
Faedyn bit herr lip quickly and glanced towards her husband. He wanted her
to be a proper lady. But she gave Diora a small smile and nodded. "I will
try Mi... Diora." she said softly.
She smiled and then was quiet again watching the crowd and waiting...she
didn't know for what but she just waited.
Isa who could mingle joined the two ladies. "Diora dear, that was a
beautiful ceremony." she turned to the other woman. "I don't believe we
have been introduced yet, I am the mother of the bridegroom, Isa."
Faedyn stood instantly and curtseyed. "Milady." She was unsure what to call
the older woman in front of her. She had never been told. "I am Faedyn
Callaghan." She did not use her title because she felt she had not earned it
because of William's words.
"Lord Williams wife." hawk had told her little bit about this young lady, so
she smiled genuinely now. "Call me Isa, dear. and none of that
ceremony. Tell me, are you enjoying your stay so far?"
"The City is very nice ma'am. I am enjoying my stay." She mouthed the words
as if she had been told to say them. But really she was only being polite.
Isa noticed it all. "Maybe you can do me a favour milady. Lady Diora looks
rather tired and it is about time that she retired. Would you walk with me
to bring her to her rooms?"
Faedyn nodded. "Of course." She said polietly, glad privately to be able to
get out of the crowds. Though she glanced at William and decided not to tell
him, after all how much trouble could she get into? She was only helping the
kings mother...
"Diora?" Isa asked, although it was more a command.
She sighed and stood. She knew she was being watched prey to a family of
hawks. "Aye, Isa...I'm ready to go."
Arianna made her way over to her husband and quietly watched him as she
stood beside him. She watched as Diora was escorted to her rooms and wished
that her friend could stay longer.
"We have to look after her health love." he said feeling very content.
"Aye, but she is being watched closely already. She may need some space.
Between Isa and Irena, we do not need to keep tabs on her too otherwise
we'll be smothering her." Arianna said to him smiling.
"OK." he said. "We will let my mother do the worrying and if it gets too
bad, I'll have a word with her. What do you say, my Lady? I think you and I
should retire for the night as well."
"Indeed, milord we should retire." She said to him giving him a cheeky grin.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This post took two directions so I have posted them both. The tops are the
same.
Hawk stood watching his wife. His wife and Queen how wonderful that sounded.
It had been a long day especially for Arianna, after the marriage she had been
crowned as well. He felt so proud of her, already she looked as if she had
been Queen her whole life.
Speaking to various people, Arianna glanced over and noticed that Hawk was
watching her. She gave him a quiet wink and went cordially talking to the
other guests.
Diora sighed as she sat in a chair just off the way watching the crowds. They
had made sure that she was seated as soon as the ceremonies were over. She
just shook her head and chuckled watching the crowd. She didn't mind the fact
that she was looked after, she just wasn't sure about anything anymore. She had
a smile on her face as she watched Arianna and Hawk interact with the various
nobility and she was grateful for not being in the midst of it all.
Lady Faedyn Callaghan had found a bench off to the side away from the
partygoers and watched silently. She was no good in this type of situation. She
spotted William a way off but did not go over to him as she did not want him
forcing her into talking to people she did not know. She rested her hands in her lap and wished herself home to Melrose, away from the crowds and people who
looked down their noses at her because of her birth and the fact that
she was raised as a commoner. She did not sigh nor make a sound, just sat
there silently letting the noises flow over her and around her.
Diora noticed the lady sitting near her. She quietly walked over and cleared
her throat. "um...I'm not intterupting your thought, but do you mind if I join
your company?" She asked Faedyn.
Faedyn looked up and nodded. "Of course, Milady." She moved a bit so the
other woman could sit down. "Please.. make yourself comfortable."
Diora sat quietly, not sure what to do next. She had a hard enough time
making friends as it is. "Um. I wanted to congratulate you on you beautiful
children." She said watching the crowd. She hadn't spotted Matthius yet, but she knew he would make a show soon.
Faedyn gave a polite nod. "Thank you Milady." she was being very polite and
nerves were really showing. "I am sorry Milady I do not know your name."
Diora smiled. "I'm Diora." she said quietly. Diora noticed the nerves on the
girl. "You can relax and not be so formal around me. I'm just a
healer."
Faedyn bit herr lip quickly and glanced towards her husband. He wanted her to
be a proper lady. But she gave Diora a small smile and nodded. "I will try
Mi... Diora." she said softly.
She smiled and then was quiet again watching the crowd and waiting...she
didn't know for what but she just waited.
Isa who could mingle joined the two ladies. "Diora dear, that was a beautiful
ceremony." she turned to the other woman. "I don't believe we have been
introduced yet, I am the mother of the bridegroom, Isa."
Faedyn stood instantly and curtseyed. "Milady." She was unsure what to call
the older woman in front of her. She had never been told. "I am Faedyn
Callaghan." She did not use her title because she felt she had not earned it because of William's words.
"Lord Williams wife." hawk had told her little bit about this young lady, so
she smiled genuinely now. "Call me Isa, dear. and none of that ceremony. Tell
me, are you enjoying your stay so far?"
"The City is very nice ma'am. I am enjoying my stay." She mouthed the words
as if she had been told to say them. But really she was only being polite.
Isa noticed it all. "Maybe you can do me a favour milady. Lady Diora looks
rather tired and it is about time that she retired. Would you walk with me to
bring her to her rooms?"
Faedyn nodded. "Of course." She said polietly, glad privately to be able to
get out of the crowds. Though she glanced at William and decided not to tell
him, after all how much trouble could she get into? She was only helping the
kings mother...
"Diora?" Isa asked, although it was more a command.
She sighed and stood. She knew she was being watched prey to a family of
hawks. "Aye, Isa...I'm ready to go."
Arianna made her way over to her husband and quietly watched him as she stood
beside him. She watched as Diora was escorted to her rooms and wished that
her friend could stay longer.
"We have to look after her health, love," Hawk said feeling very content.
"Aye, but she is being watched closely already. She may need some space.
Between Isa and Irena, we do not need to keep tabs on her too otherwise we'll be smothering her." Arianna said to him smiling.
Meanwhile, Sir Gwynne Hawley, was doing his best to stay away from the
servants who held the beverages, he was sure one of them had some rum, and knew it would not be good to be drunk at the King's Reception. But refraining was so
difficult. He wasn't really talking to anyone at the moment, his hand rested on
the hilt of his sword and he watched the crowd, pretending to be guarding,
watching for anyone who might harm his majesty.
Ian watched them all. It was a strange lot, this breed that had gathered
around the new King. He wondered what tales they all could tell that he did not
yet know; a King who did not wish to be King, a King married to a woman who had
been a knight. He scanned the crowds: The Healer, The Drunk, The Scribe, and
the Dreamer. It was amazing what amassed in a noble court.
Mathius entered the room in grand fashion looking over the guests already in
attendance at the reception. It was indeed a grand party and wondered how many
were truly friends of the bride and groom and which ones were here only out
of formality. Mathius came by request of Hawk but knew that his presence was
one of formality as he did not even know the bride and had only met Hawk once,
though it had gone really well. Then his eyes scanned the room further and
found Diora leaving the reception hall with a servant in tow. Mathius made his way towards her so that he could at least say hello before she left and caught
her before the door could be closed. "Lady Diora? Why do you leave such a grand
party so soon?"
"I have been told that I must rest for my health, Lord Matthias. It is not
something that I wish to do but you can visit later if you wish." She said to
him. Oh how she wished she could stay, but between the Queen Mother's
insistance and Irena watching her like a hawk, she hardly was able to enjoy a good party. She felt a gentle tug at her sleeve as the Queen Mother gave her a look again.
Isa looked at Matthias. "You are the new noble that had just arrived, are
you not?? Would you care to escort the Lady to her quarters and makes sure
she'll rest?" Isa asked him.
"Milady...I can---" Diora was about to protest but Isa stopped her. "I'll
have none of such nonsense from you young lady. You will listen with no
arguement." She said quietly to Diora.
Mathius was not sure who these women were but one acted as if she was of
importance. Di's downcast face was enough for Mathius, though. "Yes Milady, I
would be honored to escort Lady Diora to her room," Mathius said as he bowed to
the lady of importance. "I am Mathius ap Cornellius highly educated noble and
Bastard son of Angus Sanglet. I would have prefered to have left that part out
but know very well that rumors will reveal it anyways. Might I have the
pleasure of your name, Milady?"
"It will be a pleasure to give it to you, milord. I am Isa ferch Gundrun,
wife to the Iowerth ap Greidal and mother of the king." she said to him quietly. "I appreciate your kindness in assisting our healer here for she has a tendency to be stubborn." Isa said looking at Diora again.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Isa, Queen Mother of Abertawe. My Father
knew your husband well. Cornellius was a Captain in your husband's army before
retiring and spoke highly and often of Iowerth, the great general." Mathius
raised his arm in the air pretending to weild a sword while smiling. "My father
said that Iowerth made him into the man he is today and so I must thank your
husband for that, for Cornellius is an honorable man and great father, more
than I could say for the deceased Sanglet."
"As for Lady Diora, would you mind so much that I have one dance with my
childhood friend before escorting her to her room. I promise to be gentle and
behave." Mathius winked and flashed a charming smile only capable of a Sanglet.
Mathius may have sounded as if he despised his blood family but there was no
mistaking that he held the charm and look of one.
Lady Isa nodded. "I will allow just one dance and then she must be off to
bed. I do not need her collapsing on the floor." She ignored the fact that
this charmer is a Sanglet for the fact that he was raised by Cornellius. "I
remember your foster father well. He is a great man. Do not wrong him because
you found out who you really are." she said to him.
Mathius bowed cordially to Lady Isa and held out his hand to escort Diora
onto the dance floor. He decided not to comment on the Queen Mother's request.
Her statement was strong and bold, normally used in courts to draw a response.
Any comment given could be used against him in one way or another. A simple nod
of understanding was the best way to remain neutral towards his course of
action.
Diora sighed. "I swear, Matti I'm watched like a hawk and tethered without
freedom." she whispered to him as he led her to the dance floor.
Mathius smiled at her as he got in dance position, "Di, I could not imagine
anyone having it in for you. I am sure they have your best interest at heart
even if they seem forceful. Maybe watching you dance and seeing you smile will
brighten their spirits and loosen their hold on you .... that and seeing that
you get enough rest so that those bags under your eyes disappear." Mathius
winked at her as he began to move in step to the tune that was playing by the
orchestra.
"So help me Matti, if I wasn't ill I'd hurt you." She said playfully knowing
that he said that in gest to get her to smile and it worked. She felt
wonderful being danced around the room in the arms of her oldest friend. It reminded
her again of when they were children. How life was much simpler then, she
thought to herself.
Mathius could see that Diora was getting lost in the moment and decided to
say nothing and continue dancing with her. Seeing her smile was more than
pleasing to his eyes.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The Fever"
Diora
Rowena
Mathius
Irena
Gwilym's Ghost
Diora's fever, though she had hidden it well was raging again so soon after
the marriage of Hawk and Arianna. She had become so feverish that she started
dreaming about Gwilym again and this time it took her to sleep walking down the
halls. Barefoot and in dressing gown, she climbed out of bed and headed for
the door. Her long hair she had not taken the time to braid and everywhere in
the castle the reception still went on. And Diora began to wander
"Diora Darling, why do you walk around so when you are ill? Did I not ask you
to get rest for your health and that of our child?" Gwilym asked. Diora
turned around to find Gwilym standing in front of her amidst the white light again. He looked happy and calm and his eyes show true compassion.
She looked at him with tears in her eyes. "I need fresh air. It's so hot,
Gwilym I can't breathe."
A small form stood in her path. "It is not time yet, lady. He does not call
for you and you can not go to him." The small waif wore a shift of pure white
and her long black hair was unbound around her hips. She looked almost fey in
the flickering light. She spoke in a strangely lulling tone.
Diora stood in front of her seeming to be in conversation with someone and
yet Rowena heard her say out loud. "I need fresh air."
"Come, my dear, to the garden where it is cool. You can catch your breath
there." Gwilym held out his hand to lead her as if no one else was around
her.
Rowena stepped between her and the door. The last thing the lady needed was
the cool air of the garden. "Nay, you must go back to your bed. Where is your
maid?" Rowena had felt the pull of the otherworld and it had pulled her from
her bed.
Diora seemed like she didn't hear Rowena. She was still dreaming. "So
hot...can't breathe..." she mumbled...
Rowena pulled her down to the ground so that she knelt with her. "Diora, I am
your daughter. The daughter that would be. I need you to be strong." Rowena
breathed in her ear.
Diora rested her head on Rowena's shoulder. Heat radiated off her and slowly
she began to wake. She held onto Rowena at that moment for fear of falling.
All she could do is stare down the empty corridor hoping...the ravages of fever
were hitting her hard and she was doing all she could to
fight against it.
Rowena held the woman as best a nine year old can. Where was everyone else?
She could sense another presence but could not sense it. Was this the person
that the lady spoke to. Where spirits real? She wished she could ask Elieanor.
Diora realized where she was and pulled quietly away from Rowena and sat
against the doorframe. "Feverfew...on the second shelf next to the
chamomile...then go get help..." she said taking in the cool air of the hallway.
Rowena moved swiftly. She knew hot to use feverfew. She quickly found it and
prepared it for the priestess. Her mentor and teacher had been drilling Rowena
on herbs: What they looked like, what they were used for and how they were
prepared. She quickly returned with the draught to give to Diora.
Diora still looked into the hallway where she could still see Gwilym. She had
her head resting still on the doorframe when Rowena came back to her. She was
very pale, though looking no longer tired. The exhaustion was gone and was
replaced by a full blown illness.
"Here Mistress." Rowena said quietly. She pressed the draught into her hands.
"I will fetch help." Rowena made sure Diora drank the draught and then fled
to get help. She entered Diora's room and found a young woman sleeping on the
closet couch. "Come, your mistress is ill." She demanded in her best royal
tones.
Irena knew immediately who the little girl meant and got up without protest.
"Where is she?" Irena asked worriedly.
"This way." Rowena led her back to the woman who was supposed to teach her
till she returned to the druids.
Irena knelt beside Diora. "What are you doing, mistress?" She scolded.
"Was too hot." Diora said to Irena without looking at her. "Now...too weak to
move...go fetch help...Never should have overstressed myself...but it's too
late for that." She was mumbling. The feverfew had cleared her vision and was
working on the fever, but it would take more. "Need to send for the Ovate or
Arch-Prelate..." she started mumbling.
"Stay with her." Irena ordered, not knowing she was speaking to a member of
the royal house. Irena turned and fled to fetch assistance.
Rowena was used to priestesses speaking to her thusly so did not demure. She
held the lady's hand and sat beside her. She felt so very hot and Rowena
worried that the fever would harm the babes' the woman carried.
Gwilym stood in the hall way with a sad expression upon his face and his arms
held wide open as if to swoop up a child. As Diora came back to reality,
Gwilym's form faded to more of an apparition. With his arms still held wide,
Gwilym spoke within Diora's mind, "Who will our child run to, heart of mine? The choice is yours though I fear your actions will bring the child into my arms before you get to see him." Gwilym's voice moaned in sadness as he spoke.
Mathius had been wandering the halls as the reception was coming to an end
feeling a desire to be alone in thought. He had met a few interesting people as
well as a few to watch out for. Mathius felt Hawk had chosen his bride wisely
for she was a tall and beautiful woman with a strong demeanor necessary in a
queen. During his stroll, he observed two women rushing down a hall speaking of
someone falling ill. Knowing Diora's condition after the dance and the
direction the two women were heading, Mathius grew scared and rushed after them. To his dismay his assumption was right. Knowing nothing about medicine but fully aware that having her in the middle of the hall would not do, Mathius bent over and lifted Diora from the floor as the older woman fled for further
assistance. "I will take her to her room where you can better look after her there," Mathius said to the child with a sad smile on his face.
"I would appreciate that. We need to give her more of the fever draught."
Rowena commanded from her small nine year old form.
Diora mumbled in Matthius' arms. "Don't take them, it's not their
time...I'll....I'll get well....I promise you that Gwilym...." she then let out a mumbled moan as she passed out with her head on Matthius' shoulder.
Mathius was unsure of what Diora was talking about and brushed it off as
fever talk. He moved Di into her room and laid her on her bed watching the little one with the commanding voice and wondering what her role in all of this was. Mathius knew that now was not the time to ask questions. He would wait until Di was safe as he held her hand and waited for this little one to give her more of this draught she spoke of.
Rowena quickly mixed another draught. The lady's fever was dropping but not
quickly enough. As she was giving it to her, Irena came back with a guardsman.
"What are you giving her?" She demanded.
"Feverfew as she requested before she became without sense." Rowena said
quietly.
"And how would you know how to mix that." Irena eyed the little girl
angrily.
"I have training. I am young but not stupid." Rowena retored setting the mug
aside and pulling the covers over Diora. "I will leave her in your care. I
suggest you take better care of your mistress."
Irena bristled, for she had barely fallen slept the last couple of days.
Both young ladies were ignoring the poor gentleman on the other side of the bed. "Who are you to give me orders." Irena snapped.
"I am Princess Rowena ui Iowerth." Rowena said pulling herself up just as
haughtily. "You had best learn to mind your tongue." She swept from the room
with all the grace of an older woman.
Irena stood stunned, and then she flushed with color. That would not go over
well if the little girl ran with tales. Pushing that thought aside. She
quickly got a cool rag and started bathing Diora's face. "My appologies, milord, will there be anything else for you? I can care from her from here?"
Mathius, still concerned for Diora, did his best to push back his smile
brought on by the confrontation. It would do him no good to get invovled in such a cat fight as this one. "No milady, I leave her in your care and that of the princess. I can see my presence here is no longer required. I will stop by from time to time to see on her condition but will not bother her during that time. I would much appreciate notification when she is awake and well enough to have visitors, if I am not around."
Mathius left the room and bowed to the princess who had stopped for a moment
outside, "Though strange circumstances indeed, it has been a pleasure making
your acquaintence." Mathius then left after the princess nodded her
acknowledgement of his presence.
____________
"Winsome Reunion"
Kingdom Of Abertawe
Princess Rowena
Llywen - Baron of Waterford
Rowena sat in the gardens. Her brother was still in bed with his newly made
Queen. Her father she had not found. Her mother, she was yet avoiding for
her family had not seen the wound on her throat. The sun of the morning felt
wondrous and she sat in her favorite spot, her back against some ancient
relative, for the stone was comforting.
Llywen could not contain his excitement when he heard that Rowena had
returned. He had spoken with the Duke, gained permission to come to the
Castle and was admitted to the gardens posthaste by two Castle guards.
He slowly, quietly moved through the gardens, hiding and ducking behind
things so as to startle and surprise Rowena, typical young boy mindset in
full action. He was thinking of putting his hands on her eyes from behind
the stone statue she was leaning on but the statue was too wide. Llywen
settled for tapping her gently on the shoulder and not uttering a word to
her.
Rowena jumped for she had not heard Llywen approach, she looked up to see
who had startled her and smiled, "It is good to see you still breathe," she
said quietly. "I was uncertain of your well-being." Rowena looked different
to him, her hair was in a multitude of braids, each one tied with a red
ribbon. Her dress of matching red was cut in a different style that the
ladies normally wear.
But the biggest difference was her eyes, they gazed upon him almost as if
she were fully grown.
Llywen chuckled heartily at her, doing his best to hide the shock, "Good to
see you my future wife, and I am pleased to see that you are beginning to
act more grown up," he leaned forward and stole a kiss of her cheek and
stood there to watch and see how she'd respond.
Rowena smiled, "It is also good to see that some things never change, I
shall not be your wife I have told you this many times. I shall be a
priestess," Rowena had never had a vision that involved her with anyone
else, so from her point of view that must mean there would never be anyone
else.
"Do you know Diora?" Llywen asked smugly, setting her up quite slyly.
"Of course I know Diora," she said, not sure what that had to do with
anything.
"Before the war your father fought with his men, Diora was to marry. She is
the healer of the King, she married Sir Gwilym, and would even now be wed as
a priestess, so my little future wife, priestesses can marry," he smiled so
wide that if it were possible his ears would have popped off his head. He
knew he had her there, she could no longer use that as an excuse not to wed
him.
Rowena looked at him with one eyebrow raised, "Diora, while a priestess, is
not a seer." She wanted to wipe the smug smile from his face, for some
reason she did not like it when he presumed to know more than she.
"It does not matter, druids can wed, besides if you were truly going to be a
priestess you would not have returned. I spoke with your brother about us,"
he said playfully, but was quite proud of this. It showed her just how
serious he was towards her.
Rowena bit her lip, "And what did my brother say?" she couldn't believe that
Hawk would agree to such a match, she was only nine.
"He said that it was your decision, so now I will spend the next few years
wooing you and making it absolutely impossible for you to refuse my
advances, whatever you want, I shall give. I am a Baron you know? And am
very wealthy in land and livestock, we're a perfect match when you have
become a full woman," he replied proudly.
"Whatever I want?" asked Rowena. She was after all feminine to the core and
a little bit mischievous.
"Well, as long as it brings us together and I am married to you, yes," he
smiled, knowing how smart and cunning the little vixen could be. He crossed
his arms at his chest and waited for her condition.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. She closed her eyes once more and leaned
back against the stone as if dismissing him.
He gently tapped her knee, "Rowena, wanna go swimming?" he asked.
"I can't," she replied quietly without opening her eyes.
"Why not?" Llywen whined, but didn't mean to. "It's hot and we could skinny
dip, it'll be fun and cool you off?" he added. "We can play all sorts of
games," he of course knew she was still a little girl and not the woman he
knew in Irena, but he just wanted to provoke a feminine response from her,
she had to be female somewhere in there and after all Llywen was a handsome
boy.
"Priestesses DON'T swim," she said emphatically. "Besides it isn't
lady-like," she wasn't about to admit what the real reason was, she didn't
know how to swim.
"Oh sure they do, you're just scared," he paused for a moment and remembered
that the last time they were together the last thing she wanted to be was
lady-like, "since when did you care about being a lady? You used to roll
around in the mud with all of us?" he asked. "Now come on, we'll have fun,
besides its so hot!" he exclaimed, coercing her.
"Llywen, I haven't even had a chance to talk to my family. I would be in
trouble before you know it. Besides, Riton will know. He always knows."
Rowena pointed out. "He is my guard and we CANNOT slip him."
"What happened to the girl who found solutions instead of excuses on why she
can't do anything? I know you want to come, so come with me Rowena? Don't be
in ol' stick in the mud!" he pouted, giving her the puppy-dog eyes. "Let
this Riton fellow come then, he can turn his back," Llywen chuckled.
"I am not the child I was when I left." She said imperiously. It kind of
sounded funny considering the small frame of the nine year old before him.
"Nor am I the boy I was when you last saw me, but I still have fun. Is there
anything fun you can do with me?" he asked her, still pouting.
"Not today, Llywen, it is my first day home. I won't be here long. I have
to make the most of my time with my parents." She said taking his hand. "I
am glad you like my company, but I will be leaving again. You must find
another girl to be your wife."
"Nope," he said just as imperiously as she had earlier. He romantically
caressed her hand with his own, stared intently at her and spoke seriously,
"I am a Baron, I have made my choice of wife and I shall have her, priestess
or not. I will find your weakness, you'll bend," he smiled at her. She was a
pretty little nine year old and all Llywen could think of was how wondrously
gorgeous she would be when she became a woman.
"You cannot best a wife like some target on a field." She giggled.
"Why not?" he asked. This confused him, for he had been training
relentlessly with the Duke and was beginning to think that all things could
be defeated with pursuit and vigilance. "I will make you happier than you've
ever been," he still held Rowena's soft hand. "I had the guts to go to the
King himself for your hand, doesn't that mean anything?" he pouted again,
using the cute eyes to gain some sort of sympathy from her, some sort of
favor.
"Yes, it means you are forward." She pointed out with a laugh. "I had best
go find my mother. She should be free of the ladies now."
Pinned with guilt, he sighed sadly at her, still holding her hand and quite
surprised to see she had not shaken his away. He leaned in to her face,
targeting her lips, took her into his arms and before she had time to
resist, he kissed her soundly, amorously, just as he would have kissed Irena
when they were in bed. These had been the lips he had wanted all along. And
if she wasn't going to marry him, at least he would be her first kiss.
Rowena sat somewhat stunned as Llywen did something strange against her
lips. She was even more surprised when Llywen was dragged away suddenly.
There stood Riton holding Llywen by his collar, Llywen's feet not quite
touching the ground. "Do not touch her." The man commanded firmly.
Llywen protested bravely, "She is my future wife, I have every right to
touch her, unhand me you fiend! I am the Baron of Waterford!" he screamed.
"Let me down! Or I shall have you arrested!" of course he didn't think the
Duke would let him do this, but it sounded like a good threat when it
entered his head.
Rowena frowned. "He meant no harm. Let him go." She said firmly. The man sat
the boy on the ground. "She is not for you to dally with." He warned the
boy.
"I did not take her to bed!" he proclaimed rebelliously, "I simply kissed
her. There is a vast difference," Llywen turned to Rowena, and whispered,
"Dally is when you sleep together or do something untoward with a lady,"
Llywen knew the definition of the word because Diora had explained it to him
after all the times the servants, the Duke and his own mother used the word.
Rowena blushed furiously. "Oh we weren't dallying, Riton." She insisted.
"I am not blind, princess. The only reason he has not pushed to do so is
your youth. He obviously does not respect your position." The man said, arms
crossing. He looked at Llywen crossly. "A gentleman does not explain such
things to a lady. That is her mother's responsibility." His scold was coldly
given.
"I am a gentleman, you sir are old fashioned. She is my friend and when she
asks me a question, I shall most certainly give her an honest answer. You
are dismissed, the Princess is in no danger," Llywen wasn't about to be
treated like that and his 'Baron-training' kicked in, he stood there in
protest but also possessed the air of nobility, that he would have used with
one of his own subjects in Waterford.
"Go to your mother, princess." Riton ordered. "The young gentleman and I
have business."
Rowena got to her feet and glanced between the two and then fled to find her
mother.
"She is not for you. Stay away from her." Riton ordered.
When it came to Rowena, he was always brave, Llywen took his thirteen
year-old body, stood up proudly, defiantly to the man's chest and said, "I
shall not, she is my friend and my future betrothed, a simple bodyguard does
not tell a Baron what to do. You have lost your place! You would do well
sir, to find it again," Llywen probably would have been nose to nose with
the man, if he would have been that tall.
Llywen found a knife under his chin as Riton lifted it up to look at him. "I
am not a bodyguard. I am her protector. I take that charge seriously.
Remember that." He pulled the knife away and turned and stalked off in the
direction that Rowena had taken.
Llywen, for the most part was a good and decent boy, but he did not
appreciate having a knife at his throat, protector or not, nothing was going
to stand in the way of him making Rowena his wife. He would speak of this
incident to the Duke, and the man would then be punished by the King
himself, Llywen was sure of it.
He decided then and there that he would best this peasant protector and
sneak in to see Rowena again, right under the man's nose, just to show him
nothing would stop him from being with the princess, not even harmful
threats to his throat.
_____________
“Red Sky at Morning: Part Three”
Aine ui Caerdydd, a Lady of Caerdydd in Llandaf
Rhianriod and Gwynneth, NPC servants
Lesser NPCs: Caedmon Messenger; Aeron Argel, messenger
Mentioned: Aeton Archantael, Darcy Caedmon, nobles; Arthyen and Blythe, bouncers
The wind had forsaken them.
Others traveling upriver found themselves stopping as well, and Aine had observed them gathering slowly over the last two days. It was two days that they were behind in their travels, now, and even the Captain’s men were beginning to feel the tension that came with a lack of motion. Aine had sent word to her cousin in the capital that she would be late in arriving due to inclement weather. It would arrive before they did even if she left that same day. Messenger birds or fast-riding servants wouldn’t stop until they’d gotten there. Not if it meant they’d be thought well of by Aine’s father for doing it.
Aine was, by this time, getting rather impatient to be on her way. She couldn’t control this, and it bothered her immensely. They could wait another day for the tardy wind, which nobody could put a date or time of return to, or they could start out overland. This last was dangerous, especially since Aine had no guards with her and the sailors couldn’t really ride horses. Not and fight to win if required, at least. Aine could only defend herself just so far against a throng. Though she might have been unnaturally beautiful, she wasn’t a divine being, no matter what rumors persisted.
She had, however, been making a few quiet plans. Namely, she’d been asking since she got there about the man dressed in green who had been at the docks that day. Others had, indeed, seen him. With her handmaidens in tow with their descriptions, Aine had managed to narrow it down to what appeared to be two nobles in the area: a Darcy Caedmon, or an Aeton Archantael. Those she asked really didn’t know about titles, given they were sailors, but she heard from another source that one was supposed to be a Lord, and the other a Baron. From what she had also heard, one was newly widowed, and the other unmarried. They weren’t known on sight, however. Nobles didn’t take to the common markets frequently if they could help it. It just wasn’t seemly.
She was waiting, however. She took her air and her time in the markets, as well as the better neighborhoods, whenever possible, accompanied by her two servants and usually the Captain or a few of his men as guards. She hadn’t seen the man again in her two days of being there, and she was beginning to wonder if he’d show up again. After all, having the woman you were watching make the next move in the little dance by asking around about you was sure to get back to his ears in enough time. Nobles were nothing if not thorough in their information gathering, she’d noted long ago.
“Would you like me to fetch your darning?” Rhianrhiod asked politely within the quiet confines of the inn. It was the daytime, and those who came in were sparse. The daylight hours near the docks were for working, not having a bender, for the majority. Even the Captain and his men were busy caring for their cargo and their ship, leaving the three ladies to the watchful eyes of the owner, Aeron Argel.
“No,” Aine replied boredly, glancing around in her tedium. The usual drunk, or the one that she’d seen in her two days of being here, was half unconscious and drinking in a corner. Regulars had come and gone through the morning and afternoon. Aine was almost ready to do something hasty and brash just to liven up things.
“A walk, then, m’Lady?” Gwynneth offered hopefully. “You should keep up your constitution so close to water that isn’t salty. It isn’t healthy, and there are so many insects…!”
“And no constant sea breeze to wave them away even where there are some,” Rhianriod agreed in disdain. “Do have a turn through the market today? I saw some beautiful fabrics on display yesterday that should go wonderfully with your skin and eyes, m’Lady…”
Aine fought the urge to roll her eyes and slap them for no real reason other than it would startle them into action. They did tend towards the uppity, even to her gaze, but she suffered them. “Very well,” she sighed at last, much to their identical delight. “But only because the heat of the day has passed and it’s tolerable now. Do fetch my cloak, Gwynneth? I have little need of my skin becoming as brown and textured as leather.”
“Quite revolting,” Gwynneth murmured with a curtsy just before she hurriedly walked for the stairs once again.
If I can find him, Aine said to herself, then I can and WILL get him to send us to Alban by carriage. He was obviously interested, and he plays games almost as well as do I. He might even know that I’m toying with him, and if he does, he’ll want something in return. I’ll have to keep my head down, in that respect. The less intelligent he thinks me to be, the more room I have to manipulate him without him knowing how far I’m doing so. If only my father hadn’t been so quick to toss me aside and let me fend for myself, quite literally it appears, without men at arms or contacts between my cousin and Llandaf. May Cliodna take your next vessel, Father!
She was still vexed when Gwynneth returned with her cloak. She swung it around her shoulders and placed the hood up over her head to shadow it from the harsh sunlight before setting foot out the door. Aeron nodded at them as they passed. “I can send a few of my men with you,” he offered from where he stood behind his bar drying out a tankard. “’Stead of those sailors, I mean. Arthyen and Blythe need something to do while tis slow, besides.”
Aine paused and turned to face the burly owner, but she nodded at him. “The Captain’s crew is busy with his ship today,” she admitted after a moment. “Perhaps it would be best to walk with other trusted gentlemen on our paths today. We’ll be waiting just outside.” She sent him a faint smile, like diamonds barely glittering through dust, before taking her leave.
There were disadvantages to new guards. They didn’t know her at all, and that meant that they’d most likely be unpredictable. She disliked unpredictability in those around her. It meant they were harder to control and guide as she wished. She preferred that the only one in her vicinity who behaved in unexpected ways be her. But there were advantages as well: with unfamiliarity came the ease of charm, and with charm came control. Aine simply had to remind herself how to turn it to her own advantage, rather than panic.
The five of them set off into the city at a leisurely pace, headed for the markets. Her servants bee-lined excitedly for the cloth sellers and proceeded to haggle at prices like fishwives. It amused Aine, to some degree, to see her ladylike maids hunting like hounds after a hind, not halting in their incessant worrying of the victim until it was brought down to their satisfaction. But, then, Aine had always liked the bloody hunts of men and beasts perhaps a little too much for her gender and status. Never content to sit aside, Aine was proficient enough with a bow to course her own hounds or hawks after safe prey, and to ride with the hunters after boar when gathered. It was a scandal, and she was often kept at the back with men between her and the dangerous animal, but her arrows could be found in the thick hide afterward all the same. It left her giddy, the power over life and death did, and she doubted that the men felt the same way for exactly the same reason.
She stifled a yawn, however, and turned her gaze around the market. It was in this way that, while her servants argued down a price for fabrics, she spied an approaching man with dark hair. He was dressed in livery, but whose wasn’t part of her tome of knowledge. She assumed either Darcy Caedmon or Aeton Archantael, but she had been known to mistake her unknowns.
He found her soon after she’d found him and headed for her immediately. He approached and ended a polite distance away and with a polite bow for her. “My Lady… Caerdydd?” he asked, as if uncertain as to the pronunciation. Or to the name itself belonging to her.
Aine nodded at him blithely. “I am she. Who asks?”
The servant cleared his throat and removed a parchment from within his vest’s inner pocket. “M’lord Caedmon has heard that a visiting noblewoman of greatest beauty was seen in the market two days ago, and wishes to invite her to dinner at his manor, if she would be so kind as to join him. He would like to welcome her to Abertawe and offer proper hospitality.” He smiled politely at her, holding out the rolled parchment for her to take. “I only needed to see your face to know there could be no other he meant. He also sends you a message.”
Which was why you sounded so uncertain, then? Aine thought cattily. She wasn’t about to jump to the conclusion, just yet, that the man in the market had been this Darcy Caedmon. She had, after all, asked after two men of power in the area, and it was bound to reach them both. She felt intrigued despite herself: if Caedmon hadn’t been the one in the market, then there might be politics to swim through even this far away from the capital. The two noblemen must know of each other, and thus they had to know that she had asked over the two of them. “Indeed,” she murmured noncommittally to Darcy’s messenger, letting it stand as her humble response. “I shall be there tonight, if he permits, though he must forgive the state of my affairs at this time. Travel and misfortune have wearied me, and I do hate to not look my best for his Lordship.”
“I will convey your words and your acceptance to my lord at once,” the man stated with a bow. “He will send a carriage to your inn in two hours. Good day to you, Lady Caerdydd.” He waited for her murmured reply before turning to weave his way through the crowds once more.
Her servants were hot on her heels a moment later. “M’lady!” Gwynneth gasped, arms full of cloth. “That inn is so foul for dressing you properly! Whatever shall we do?”
Rhianriod was adamant in agreement. “Quite,” she groused, shifting her own bolts of cloth in her arms. “Oh, and we must retrieve the other chest from the ship! It has your best gown in it, m’Lady!” She sounded as if she were about to fret herself into a faint.
Aine turned her attention back to the two servants. “I’m sure you’ll do magnificently with what we have,” she told them neutrally. “What I’m interested to know is how that man knew where we were to bring me this message.” She lifted her hand with its prize. Their eyes followed its arch up and then back down. “He was cutting straight through the market in our direction, generally, rather than taking the route that would lead directly to the place where we stay. And he as much said that he already knew, as did the good Darcy Caedmon, when he stated the offer for proper hospitality.”
The other two women blinked a touch owlishly at Aine. “What of the other lord, Aeton Archantael?” Gwynneth asked with a delicate frown of concern. “M’lady will have an invitation from him almost certainly by tomorrow.”
Rhianriod nodded, though her frown was far more wary. “The wind may arrive tomorrow, Lady Caerdydd,” she added politely. “I would not like it if the Captain or his men brought news to your father that he had forced you to slight a Lord here.”
An unmarried one, at that, Aine filled in for them. “No matter,” she said with a wave of her hand as she motioned for them to return to the inn. “There is work to be done and little time in which to do it. I’ll not go anywhere until both noblemen have been visited, no matter how much the Captain may shout.” And I will not disgrace myself for my father’s pleasure, harridans, she added privately, wondering once more why she hadn’t physically slapped either of her ladies for their impertinence. “I will go nowhere until you have perfected me to the best of your limited abilities,” she challenged them with a hint of a smirk on her face for the insult that they’d definitely catch. “And I will *not* arrive late for this dinner.”
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