Upheaval and Change - Tales 14

Seth rode to the waterfall area making sure no one saw him ,but also making sure it didn't look like he was doing so. Seth arrived and dismounted. He spotted Bronwen and bowed low and asked,"May I approach you my angelic princess?"

Bronwen nodded. Her maid stood at a respectful distance not far off. She was out of hearing but close enough to offer chaperonage. "I am sorry things are so strange right now." She said, she did not rise from the knoll where she sat weaving a flower coronet.

He smiled warmly to her and sat infront of her and said,"It is alright. I have good news."

"Really? What news?" She asked with hopeful inquiry.

"I am to be squire under high knight of Fire Deirdre. Your brother has promised to fasttrack me sdo i wil become a knight quicker tha msot. My meeting with your brother went very well I would say."He said with a smile. He hoped to at least get a hug or a kiss on the cheek. He knew they couldn't do much, but some touch from her would be wonderous.

"That is wonderful." Bronwen hugged him and then stepped away with a blush. "You must be so happy. Deirdre would not accept you if you were not worthy."

He smiled and took her hand and kissed the top of it. he said,"I am very happy. I will be a noble if I am knight is that right?"

Bronwen forced a smile to her face. "Sort of.. its close enough. It is definitely a large step up and on the right road."

He smiled and said,"That's good enough for me. How has everything been for you?"He asked hoping all was well.

"I am confused. My mother is ill. My sister cannot see. My brother is injured? I wish the days of peaceful banquets and rides were here once again." She said tenderly.

"They may be soon, I am sorry about your sister and mother. If there is anything I can do let me know,"he said with a smile.

"Just your presence is helpful, milord. A squire now. You will be very busy. Deirdre will push you hard." She said quietly.

"The harder she pushes me the harder I will work and the closer I will be to knighthood,"he said. He leaned in and whispered,"You look absolutely stunning."

"You would say that if I wore sackcloth." She said but blushed prettily none the less.

"Of course. You are angelic in anything,"he said with a smile stariing into her eyes.

She giggled softly. "You sir, are incorrigible."

He nodded and said,"You princess are beautiful and I find myself missing you every moment I am not near you."

"You should not say such things." She said with a blush glancing at her grinning maid.

"It is the truth milady and I cannot keep the truth from coming out,"he said with a smile while stairing directly into her eyes. He leaned forward and asked,"Will you wait here for just a moment?"

"Of course." She answered quietly. She had not yet finished the crown of flowers and smiled at him warmly.

He rose and disapeared behind the rocks beside the pond and he called out,"Close your eyes. It's a surprise."

Bronwen did as he requested and closed her eyes and waited patiently. She trusted him more then anyone else who was not family.

Seth walked over and requested,"Hold out your hands please."

Bronwen put down the crown and obediently put out her hands. There was no sound from her maid to warn her so she sat holding her breath, unsure of what the young gallant was up to.

Seth set down a dozen various flowers including two red roses and a small string tying them together and and carved out wooden heart. Seth smiled and said,"Now open your eyes,"He said hoping she would like this. He had carved that wooden heart out himself.

Bronwen opened her eyes. She smiled and scooped up the flowers. She sniffed them and smiled. Then she saw the heart. She picked it up and held it carefully. "Did you make this?" She asked quietly. "It is very good?"

"Yes I did,"he said. "I tried my best on that. It is to let you know that my heart is always with you even when I am not around physically."

Bronwen fingered the carving. "Thank you." She whispered. She was staring at it for fear of looking at him. She did not know why she had a lump in her throat and felt close to tears.

"You are most welcome. Are you alright,"he asked noting her not looking at him.

Bronwen forced a smile to her face. "Of course. I am just touched by your gesture." She could not tell him yet about Sanglet. She was hoping her father would find reasons of his own to forstall the man.

He could tell soemthing was on her mind and asked,"Is something wrong?"

"The Earl is asking father for my hand." She said tentatively.

Seth was shocked and fairly scared. he asked,"What do you think your father will say?"

"There is no reason for him to refuse the Earl's suit. He is handsome, accomplished, well positioned and wealthy." She pointed out trying to remain calm.

"But, will your word be the final say?"he asked hopefully.

"I don't know. Father can arrange my marriage if he chooses? It is done by fathers throughout the shire. I suspect he will wish to know if I hold the Earl in abhorance?" She said unable to look at Seth.

Seth noticed something was now wrong with her demeanor and he asked,"He does not does he?"

Bronwen looked up swiftly, her eyes large. "He does not what? I don't understand what you ask?" "He does not have your permission or anything i am right in this correct?"He asked hopefully, but knowing she was holding something back.

Bronwen stood up and walked a short distance away. She drew a deep breath and turned to face him. "If Father approves, I will not deny his suit." She managed to force the words through her lips, knowing they would hurt Seth

A look of hurt and shock came across Seth's face. He asked,"What of us? Will what we have mean nothing then?"He was trying not to get upset or angry, but it was hard considering what was just said.

Bronwen forced a look of gaiety to her face. "Why Seth, you knew nothing could come of this. Why, I AM a princess? It is my duty to marry well." She hated herself as the words left her lips but this way he would not put himself in harms way. "It has been fun and rewarding and you kiss very nicely." Her words held a flirtatious tone she saved for court gallants.

Seth stared at her in a way he thought he never would. Rage filled his eyes and he said,"I love you Bronwen. My love for you is the entire reason I still am alive. If it means nothing to you then I see no reason for us ever to speak again." he turned and began walking towards his horse.

Bronwen wanted to call him back. But she couldn't. She couldn't explain why she was pushing him away or he would do something foolish like call Sanglet out. Even if he won, he would be punished and sent away. "I .. Seth?" Her voice caught with emotion barely contained. "I didn't say it meant nothing." Her words were whispered. She didn't even know if he could hear them.

He heard and most of his rage dissipated as he turned and walked towards her some and asked,'Then what did you mean?" His eyes pleaded with her.

"I will never forget our times together, but if Father approves, I will marry Sanglet." She said trying to regroup.

"Because you will have no choice?" He asked and hoped that would be her response.

"No, because I wish to." She answered quietly. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

He nodded and said,"I bid you farewell, call on me if you have need. Good day to you princess." He turned and jumped up onto his horse." He bowed and rode off. He was hurt and needed to vent.

Bronwen watched him go. She moved to where the flowers were and tossed them into the pond. The heart she clutched to her chest and held it tight. She only hoped that someday he would forgive her.

The Earl had to wait some time to get an appointment with the general. Many family matters had to be addressed in addition to matters of state. Through this, Sanglet was patient. Finally the General sent a missive that he could meet with him. The two men had not spoken since Sanglet had killed the Nethbian general. But it was well known that Jon had done this and so, Sanglet did not feel the need to point it out. He hoped he had now proved his mettle to the man.

He bowed low when he entered the man's parlor. "Good Morning general, I thank you for your time and consideration.

Iorwerth smiled. Personally he had his doubts about the younger man, but he had proved himself in batlle, there was no doubt about that. "my lord, good morning, I am sorry to keep you waiting this long. What can I do for you?"

Jon smiled. He liked Iowerth. He always came right to the point. "Sir, I wish to marry your daughter. She is well of age. She is all that is refinement and beauty. It is time I set up my household and I can think of no other lass that would suit as well as she. You know sir that I am not in need of dower and that my family has served yours well for years. The lass does not hold me in disregard and over time, I think she would come to love me." Sanglet let his breath out. He felt like a young squire at this moment, a feeling he did not much like.

The older man thought for a moment. "I see. I am sorry, my lord. But I cannot give you that concent at this time. First I have to talk with the rest of the family, and my daughter of course. I promised her mother, that my daughters will have a free choice of marriage." He smiled.

"Then may I have permission to merely court her? How can the lass make up her mind when I am not allowed to pay my addresses?" He asked politely.

"you have that permission. But take care, she has led a sheltered life, go easy on her." To general said.

"I shall treat her as fragile glass, milord." Jon said with a bright smile. It was clear that young man had desperately wanted to have such permission.

Iorwerth nodded approvingly.

Jon bowed and withdrew. The first hurdle had been taken. Now, he had to make sure the filly did not balk at the second.

Lady Melangell spent the rest of that afternoon on her own. Despite being cloaked to hide her face, she was an obvious figure about the southern part of the city in her white and red robes. Her targets were soldiers from the procession of wounded men that trickled back to the capital from the front. She quizzed them softly but insistently, trying to find answers to questions that the others from the Order seemed to have little interest in.

By the time that the last rays of sun had petered out against the onslaught of night, she had a rough picture of the events that had unfolded during the battle with Nethbo. She even knew where Amlyn had been at this time. A man with a disability such as his would always be noticed. She was mildly disappointed to learn that he still sought the old ways of bloodshed. But she was also surprised to learn that he had fought valiantly for the side of right on this occasion. While his part had been small, it was nevertheless his choice to do as such. No wonder the King treated him as a guest.

She remembered the words of a sergeant, who recalled enlisting him for the first time. Amlyn gave no indication as to who he was, or what he had been. He willingly took a place amongst the footsoldiers and at the end of the day had utterly risen above them. He somehow evaded the ambush, yet was seen again during the surprise attack to end the seige. And he was stopped only when he 'froze' in the process of killing a soldier, and attacked and badly injured while dazed and in a state of... what?

"I have no idea, m'lady," said the sergeant. "He just looked like he'd seen a ghost and sort of went all... lost."

She sat in front of the fire, lost in a sense of her own, and replayed the conversation over and over in her head. While part of her wanted to be on the road heading for home, she couldn't help but feel dirty about having to participate in what was fast becoming a campaign for revenge. She recognised the changes in her companions. They were all relishing the opportunity to finally put the cause to an end. But would it really satisfy them?

Earl Cynrain entered the room and swiftly walked over towards her, dragging a chair with him. He sat down and looked at her sternly for a few moments. "Do not tell me, my dear, that you are losing your faith," he said.

"I tire of this crusade," she said plainly. "It has gone on for too long, steeped in as much blood as that which our enemies created before us."

"You, of all people, should have the most to look forward to," said Cynrain, a rough edge entering his voice. "Your fates were once entwined, must I remind you? Or is it that which dictates your sense of reason at this point?"

Her voice rose sharply. "You seek to use that for your own ends, my lord! Please do not turn it against me in that manner!" She glared back at him, angry.

Cynrain's visage softened. "I apologise my lady. I realise it has been a long time. The Lord has made us-"

"Do not use his name in this," she interrupted in a soft murmur. "I doubt he would condone what we do, not the way we are going about it."

"I did not hear that," said the Earl. "You have sworn the same oath as the rest of us, and you WILL see it through." He got up abruptly and left.

"...and may god have mercy on our souls," she whispered.

***

"It is time for your first lesson," said Amlyn.

"My lord?" Nia was startled.

"I have been... remiss in my responsibilities," he said, entering the room from the quarters where he slept.

"Sir Amlyn, you are still tired, please-"

"No," he interrupted. "I cannot put things off any longer. Stop that and sit down."

She reluctantly did what she was told. Amlyn took a chair accross from her, sighing as his injured leg caused him discomfort. "I cannot teach you any swordplay yet," he said. "So we will start you learning..." He reached across to his pack on the table, and pulled out a small tome. "To read and write," he said finally.

Nia frowned, looking at the faded and worn leather of the cover. She had never even seen a book before in her life. "Umm..."

"Do not worry," he said. "You are bright enough to handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"Tch. Aye I am positive. We will write a bit and then I will tell you about the rule of one."

Nia looked up at him, confused.

"All in good time," he said. "If you are to be a knight, then you will at least be a knight worldly of knowledge. It is a tool that you may put to good use. Particulary should you be called on to lead others."

They got down to work.

Jon entered Madame Delphine's house of pleasure in a good mood. He had imbibed with his cronies most of the evening and had even won a couple hundred pieces of silver gambling. The general had given him permission to court Bronwen. Life could not get much better. Little did he know that he had a shadow this evening, but even if he had known, he would not have cared.

Seth was that shadow. He had been watching him all night and could tell he was ecstatic. He had to figure out something he could use against this vile man.

Jon walked Madame Delphine and asked for his usaul woman. Delphine called to Arial she came came out with a drink and sat in Jon's lap. Jon took the tankard from Arial. Then he took drink and set down the tankard and then Arial kissed him on lips frist then slowy moved her way down his body. Jon laughed "Slowy lass slowly."

Seth saw this and knew that this would mess with his reputation. If the King knew that he did this then perhaps his suit would be less perfect. This was the small ray of hope he had of winning Bronwen in case she had had a change of heart.

Jon fondled the woman publically and made a great show of drinking and dallying with her. Finally, he scooped the small girl, younger then Bronwen, up into his arms and lurched drunkenly up the stairs with her. There was much laughter and jeering from his drunken comrades before they too chose women and disappeared into the darker corners and rooms of the house. A couple were so crass as to not even get a room for their infidelities.

Seth saw all of this and and knew he had something to go against him with. He decided to go and see the King and see what he would think about this. At the very least he would spread rumors around the court.

Toweling her hair dry, Deirdre gazed at the chest in the center of her room for what seemed like the hundredth time. It had been haunting her since she had returned from the archery range. She couldn't help feeling that Allyn and Amlyn were somehow... connected. Paralleled. That perhaps if she helped Amlyn escape, it would almost be like helping Allyn.

Frowning at how childish that sounded, she ran a hairbrush through her long, dark locks; no matter what she tried to distract herself with, her eyes kept returning to the chest. She rubbed the towel through her hair harder.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she tossed the damp towel aside. Bending beside the trunk, she ran her fingers over the lock again... and was surprised to see it move easily aside. The chest wasn't even locked.

Intrigued, she began to unlatch it... then thought better of it. No matter Ysgarran's high talk, he could have very well set a trap on the chest. Grimacing, he ignored the thought - he had all but opened the chest for her. He must have known she would have opened it before giving it Amlyn, and she knew he wasn't stupid enough to risk harming one of the king's high knights.

Swallowing her doubts, she flipped open the chest, the clasp coming undone easily.

At the top of the chest, a crisply folded piece of sealed parchment rested on top of a black hide pouch. The paper had been sealed with red wax, while the pouch itself seemed to hold a sheaf of paper, bound together in some way. There were no markings at all to identify it. Deirdre put them to one side for now.

A black tabard, emblazoned with a red tau cross was then revealed. It had been folded so that the charge was showing clearly.

Removing the tabard revealed a black sword and scabbard wrapped in sackcloth. The scabbard bore no ornamentation or markings, and was completely plain. The guard and blade were fused together, obviously heated using some smithing technique to provide a dark, matt sheen that reflected virtually no light. This colour extended along the length of the blade. Like the scabbard, the sword was plain and very ugly, apart from a single red ruby mounted in the crosspiece the guard made with the handle and blade. Hefting it, Deidre noticed that it was slightly shorter than a longsword in length, and was very light in weight. Giving it a few practice swings, she slipped it back into the scabbard. The blade's weight felt unbalanced; it was either poorly wrought, which was clearly untrue, or was custom-made for one man's hand. And if what Ysgarran had said was true, then the chill that ran down her spine was for a good reason.

Finally, the torn and blood-stained remnants of a woman's dress. Deep blue in colour, the bodice was covered in cuts and dark patches of blood. Most of the skirt had been ripped to shreds. There was evidence of embroidery of an exquisite nature around the top of the bodice and the stitching of the tattered sleeves.

Deirdre shivered despite herself and eagerly repacked the trunk just as she had found it. That gown had belonged to a noble woman; only someone with money could afford a gown of that delicate nature. She didn't understand what most of it meant, but she was going to be sure to watch Amlyn's statement when she brought it to him.

Speaking of which...

With two servants behind her to help with the chest, she strode quickly through the corridors. Best to get unpleasant buisiness over with. At least, that was what she told herself. To be honest, she had to solve this mystery before it drove her wild. And report back to the king.

Knocking solidly on the door, she waited for him to answer.