Upheaval and Change - Tales 23

Much to Grathorn's annoyance, the caravan -- small as it was -- traveled at an exceedingly slow pace. The team was practically meandering through the outskirts of town due to none other than that obdurate Avalynn, who insistently followed several yards in the rear. A few threats had been made to leave the adamant woman behind, but Avalynn merely shrugged at them. She would have preferred as much. Despite her distaste for the bickering requests of suitors, she had no great desire to become a member of the court, either. Meanwhile, Grathorn was beginning to find relief in the fact that she had turned him down.

With a sigh of distress and a curse at her frilly garments, Laera attempted to turn in her saddle -- enough to get a view of the meandrous Avalynn down the road. Just as she expected, the woman was there, her skirts hiked up around her knees and her eyes in the sky above. Laera took the moment to her advantage, yelling brazenly, "I've seen shite move faster than you, Avalynn!"

The wandering woman's gaze immediately snapped in the direction of the sound, and with a sienna glare, Ava replied in a tone just as tawdry. "An' I've seen shite more comely than your face!" This retort caused a furious blush to rise in Laera's cheeks, and without words to counter Avalynn's, she quickly moved up beside Grathorn. Snickering victoriously, the other returned her gaze to the sky, keeping contact with the falcon that flew overhead.

Grathorn was well aware of Laera's approach and tossed her an ephemeral glance. Though she was not as lovely as her adversary, she was still fair to look at -- her voluptuous chest being no small matter. But Laera was also no submissive housewife in the making, Grathorn knew, and so he was content to simply deliver the female pair to the castle. "We approach the castle shortly, so tell Avalynn to swiften--without the vulgarity, this time," he ordered. With an indignant scoff, Laera obeyed, guiding her mount around and to the rear where the other kept her sluggish pace.

"And just what are you looking at, pig?" Growled Avalynn. "Keep your eyes on your own woman -- if you've the skill to have found one, yet!" Obviously directing her speech toward a gawking bystander, she was loathe to catch attention from the locals. Experience with gaping individuals of her clan had left Ava with a strong dislike for those who did not mind their own business.

"Well, if you didn't go flashing your legs to every man we pass," Laera snickered as she moved into position beside Ava. Before the other woman could respond, she quickly added Grathorn's words among her own. "Swiften, for we near the castle, wench. And you'd best make a lady of yourself, as well." Accordingly and without mind for Lae's insulting speech -- she was used to it, afterall -- Avalynn threw a final glower toward the unfortunate fellow who had stared and shoved her skirts over her sveltely muscled calves.

"Fools, men. All of them...except my Gaern," sighed Avalynn as she pressed her covered legs into the horse's sides. When they arrived beside Grathorn, she made a shrill whistle into the afternoon air. Tashir, her female peregrine, responded immediately with a graceful dive toward the caravan and came to a landing upon Ava's padded shoulder. A gentle stroke was given over the bird's soft feathers. "'Tis time to look ladylike, my friend," whispered the falconer.

Together, the three outlanders approached the castle gates: Grathorn relieved to have nearly rid himself of the obnoxious pair, Laera in want of a rested bottom, and the a reluctant Avalynn...aware that there might not be another man in existence with the strength to master her fiery spirit.

A tall, greying man in his late fifties, Earl Rhodri represented one of the largest land holders in Abertawe, who fiercely defended "the old ways" and while in his prime, was one of the best knights of the realm. Normally, he took about with him an extensive retinue of servants and man-at-arms, for these days he suffered from cumulative wounds to the chest from his younger days that affected him poorly. Today, however, he was alone, and wasted no time seeking out Earl Sanglet in court as he did his usual rounds. Slightly red faced, and with almost a dark cloud hanging above his head, he smiled briefly at Jon, but his tone bore no pleasantry.

"My lord," he began. "May we walk a while, and discuss certain... issues?" he asked. Rhodri deferred to Sanglet's senior position in the court.

"After you Milord" Jon said as he waved him forward towards the gardens. 'What could he want to talk about?' Jon thought as he walked beside Lord Rhodri.

"Thank you," he grunted, turning to lead the way out into the gardens. "I apologise for not coming to see you earlier, but I have been busy in discussions with some of the other noble families. As I am sure you understand," he said, pausing at the archway to gesture to the Earl to step through. "Feelings have been somewhat strained lately."

"Really? I was not aware? As you know, I was at the battle at the border and only recently returned? What is the situation that causes you such distraction?" Jon usually stayed away from other nobles. It did not suit his needs to be to close to any of them.

"Tis a dreadful month we have all been through," he continued. "The war, the death of the King, this business with the Regent marrying a common healer..." Rhodri waved his hand around as he rattled off each event. "And now-" Pausing to look at Sanglet, the old knight bore almost a puzzled look. But he then shook his head. "I must be blunt, I am sorry. Princess Bronwen. Speculation is rife about what has occurred, and we simply must know what will be done."

"Surely you do not respond to rumors, milord? Why, Princess Bronwen is soon to be my wife? I would not take a soiled woman to wife." His eyes narrowed. "As to the King, he has not announced his marriage as of yet. I would think you would know not to respond to rumors like some common woman?" The Earl's voice held censor, but it was gently couched.

Rebuked, Rhodri bowed in apology. "I am sorry. Normally, I would not, my lord. But the scale of such a rumour has become too large to ignore. I have been approached by many of the other nobles in different states of concern, and I relay them along with my own fears. This...matter, would bring certain feelings to a head if handled poorly. Which is why we only seek to clarify it."

The Earl's eyes narrowed in calculation. "Let us take these rumors one by one. First, Princess Bronwen, I will take the lass to wife. So as to that matter, it is my business and none of the nobles of court. However, a public murmer that the King should marry the lass off would be most helpful."

"That has been a wish of the nobles for some time now, my lord. And it is only fitting that a member of the royal family marry one of noble stock, and not sully the lineage with commoners," added Rhodri. "We made every effort to explain this to the Regent, but he is... persistent in his desire to marry this other woman." Rhodri frowned, half out of concern and half from disgust.

"As to our young King. If he does not take the crown soon, the people will begin to rise up. As to his wench, I think she is nothing but a mistress for she is seen less and less in court. The man has a right to bed what ever maid catches his royal eye. I am sure that many of your whispering nobles have more than one bit of linen they toss about now and then. However, if the nobles wish to unite and approach the King, I will lend your number countenance." The Earl bowed slightly as he finished.

"We plan to speak with the King on this matter, rest assured. But if you will marry the princess, then at least we can hold some comfort in case the regent continues through life bonded with his mistress. Not a perfect solution, but perhaps better than the alternative of both the King AND Princess marrying off to the lower class. It will be almost... impossible, to continue to allow such destruction of Abertawe's future in such a manner."

Jon's eyebrow rose in contemplation. "I think that you forget that our regent has a son by his earlier marriage milord. So the King of Abertawe already has his heir and does not need to marry."

"Young Rhys, yes," agreed Rhodri. "But what if he should come of age in the future and seek to follow the example his father sets?" He shook his head in disbelief. "There are dangerous precedents to be set here. And if anything should happen to the boy between now and then, we may well be without an heir of proper lineage at all."

"A good point, Sir. I will take that into consideration." Sanglet's fingers tapped his chin thoughtfully.

Rhodri bowed again to Earl Sanglet. "I thank you for taking the time to see me. You are quite the recluse my lord, with all respect. Someone of your standing with more contacts in the nobility could gather quite a substantial amount of support." He then smiled roughly. "Good health and happiness to you and the Princess in the coming years."

"And blessings to your household as well." Jon answered automatically. He bowed with only a casual awareness of the other man's departure. Maybe this folly of the princess, would lead to a stronger standing for him and in the long run, do more good then harm to his plans.

"No! No! You refer to the Duke of Gwynriod as 'Your Grace' and not your 'Royal Highness.' You use 'Royal Highness' when you address the King or his immediate family!" Alterian sighed in exasperation; "I wonder why I even bother."

"It's because you like the challenge you old fart." Pwyll replied, as he bit into an apple.

"It's not as though I haven't enough worries without having to school you in court behavior." Alterian continued, heedless of the insult.

"What worries?" Pwyll asked in wide-eyed innocence.

"Well..." Alterian was about to begin, when he looked up and saw Pwyll's calculating expression. "Never mind. It's none of your concern."

"Oh! Come on you old busybody. For the past three weeks you've been telling me that I have to learn proper court behavior -- how to stand, how to sit, how to fart, who to bow to, who not to bow to, and most importantly who's arse to kiss," Pwyll switched to a mock pleading tone, "and now all I asked for is a little scrap of information about what really goes on in court and you refuse me outright. Why Alterian, I'm hurt."

"You hurt? That is a matter of laughter if I ever heard it. I doubt you have feelings within that barbarous heart." Alterian couldn't help but smile at the young man. He was like an unbridled colt.

"Ach! I've got a heart of gold compared to some of the weasels in your court, and you're deliberately holding out on me." Pwyll waved an admonishing finger in a very passable imitation of Alterian to drive home his comment. "All around me, in that room full of pompous turds, I'm aware of factions moving and deals being made, but I can't figure out who's nose is in who's hole or why its there in the first place. But one thing I do know, you've got the key to unlocking its secrets, and you won't hand it over! What do I have to do to pry it from your twisted fingers, eh? What's your weakness? Drink? Money? Women? Maybe a nice fluffy ewe?" Pwyll laughed. "Maybe I'll just have to wait until you slip up -- or sleep with one of those court willow-sticks who's willing to tell all."

Alterian laughed heartily. "I, like you, prefer a woman with some meat on her bones. But son, I have no weaknesses or I would not be the King's right hand. What kind of man would I be to give you the keys to secrets? Besides, many of them, you are quite capable of figuring out with that bright brain of yours. Though that mouth..." Alterian shook his head sadly. "I am beginning to think that a honeyed tongue is impossible for you lad."

"Caveat emptor, old man." Pwyll replied sardonically. He realized that prying secrets out of this old man would be like trying to open an oyster with a cat's tongue. He decided to more familiar, if not safer ground. "I hear from the druids that you mean to finally make a king of our king, how do the coronation plans go?"

"They progress. Which brings us to the next topic, lad. You need to visit the tailor and see if you can't array yourself in something a little more proper for court." Alterian's voice was firm but not condescending. "I am sure in your border village you are dressed right proper. However, you will be needing something a little finer for the coronation.

"Still avoiding my questions old man." Pwyll shook his head. He had to give the Chamberlain his due -- he was as tight with information as a virgin bride was with her favors. "I'll see what I can do about a new suit for your party, but I don't see why I should. This one's done me for four summers now and could last for another two at least."

Alterian shuddered at the remark.

Looking over at the rapidly emptying hourglass on the Chamberlain's table, and given the ease at which the two of them were getting along, Pwyll decided it might be time to do his job and promote his father's interests. "I can see that our time draws to quickly to an end. Would you be willing to entertain, if not answer, one last question before we finish for the day?" Pwyll asked in a somewhat serious tone. With the Chamberlain's suspicious nod of approval, Pwyll continued, "Is it possible that a king would be willing to create a new office and grant lands to one of his loyal subjects, if that subject, say, commanded a gross of men and could bring disputed territory back under the control of the king?"

"It would be a matter worth broaching to the king." Alterian answered carefully. "However, as to what my majesty will say or do, we have not worked together long enough for me to say. However, in this time of unrest, I am sure such a matter would be at least considered."

Pwyll was pleasantly surprised by the Chamberlain's answer. He had only hoped to plant the seed of an idea, yet here was something more. "Just a thought at this point, but one that would serve both sides well if an understanding could be reached," Pwyll observed thoughtfully. Glancing again at the now empty hourglass, Pwyll stood to leave. "Well. There's a horn of ale with my mark on it somewhere in this dung heap of a town and I think I should set about finding it. Thank you for the lesson on rank my Lord Chamberlain." Pwyll performed a slightly improved bow, "Peace and long life."

"Kiss a maid for me." Alterian winked at him and then bowed properly. "Good day and well met, milord." He turned and left the room. He had a meeting to attend with his majesty. He had to report on his progress with the wolf cub and was still thoughtful. One could never trust even the tamed beast of wild, would this young man prove the same?

Pwyll left by the opposite door, absentmindedly toying with a newly acquired goose quill. 'Wonder if it's time to meet the new librarian,' he thought, 'I suppose he would have better use for this than I.'

Silently, she crept through the infirmary. She really didn't want anyone to see her - she had no legitimate reason for being here, now that Merk had been transferred out and was being held in his quarters until further notice. Pulling aside the curtains and slipping within, she turned around, gazing at the prone form on the bed. His breathing looked regular - he was probably sleeping.

"Brendan?" she whispered, unable to leave without checking.

The sound of her voice awakened him, and he opened his eyes and lazily. "Who is there?" He still could not move very well.

Deirdre bit her lip at the weakened response. She hoped she hadn't aroused him too early. "Deirdre. But I can return when you aren't resting," she added apologetically, rumaging through the curtain for the exit.

"No, please stay, my lady, please." His heart beat faster. "You have always been so good to me, my lady. And I am pretty bored here, the healer will not let me get up yet."

"I admire your patience," she grinned. "I'm sure they would have already strapped me to the bed by this point to keep me down," she explained teasingly. Pulling a chair closer to his cot, she continued, "And I believe we had agreed to keep our titles away from our discussions, _my lord_." Her eyes were sparkling with amusement, however, leaving no doubt to how seriously she really took his mistake.

He smiled in return. "Deirdre it is, then."

Sobering a little, she looked the prince up and down critically. "So... how are you feeling? Honestly, knight to knight." Her expression displayed true concern.

"Honestly? I feel lousy, my whole body hurts, and I am bored! Besides, I think my sister is in trouble and I want to help her. Do you know anything about that?"

Biting her lip, she nodded. "I do, Brendan, but..." Her face softened in compassion. "Perhaps you should recover further before becoming involved." But the expression on Brendan's face left her no doubt that she should continue.

Carefully, she explained all she knew of the situation, which was admittedly one-sided and pieced together. How Iorwerth and the Earl had found Bronwen and Seth in an... unfortunate position. How Iorwerth had come to her to ask for her opinion on her squire, and conclusions they had come to. And finally, her encounter with Seth and Dame Mae.

"Brendan, I am so uncertain as to what truly happened. Seth insists your sister and him are wildly in love... and Dame Mae seems to support him wholeheartedly. But I know so little about the dame... and you served with her. Could she be fooled so easily?" By posing this question, Deirdre hoped to turn Brendan's attention from the dire circumstances in which Bronwen stood - or at least to distract him from it for a moment.

He blushed bright red. Seeing her again made him realize that he indeed had feelings for both these women. So he didn't feel comfortable discussing Mae with Deirdre. "I don't think so," he grumbled.

The change in Brendan's demeanor was obvious. Deirdre felt a pang of guilt; perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned it - especially if his own family had kept it from him. "Brendan?" she asked worriedly. "You look flushed. Are you okay? Should I get the healer?"

"I... I... I'm fine." But he flushed even more. "I really want to help," he said to change the subject.

Not quite believing him, she didn't take her gaze away from his face. "Then you believe the lad?" she asked slowly, not sure how to tread with such a touchy subject.

"I hardly know him. Do you? But I know my sister. She likes wealth, if she chooses for somebody poor, she must really be in love." He said firmly. "And I guess she could use some support. I doubt father is very happy at the moment."

Deirdre shook her head in agreement. "I don't believe she likes me very much," she began wryly, "but perhaps you could help most by simply helping your sister. Talking to her - give her a shoulder to cry on." She smiled, her eyes twinkling deviously. "And once you escape from this place, you can help me get Seth jousting."

"Against a trained fighter like Sanglet? He wouldn't stand a chance. He would not be so foolish as to fight the earl? I don't think Hawk will allow it."

Deirdre's shoulders sagged with defeat. To have her concerns verified by another trained fighter... "It's too late, Brendan. And I don't think even the king can stop it."

"He will have to," Brendan said, "he will just have to."

The concern and reassurance in his voice touched her. Even as he was lying bedridden, he still had the energy and heart to feel and worry about so many others. Impulsively throwing her arms around him, Deirdre enveloped the prince in a huge hug. "Thank you, Brendan," she whispered, "Thank you for being here and for understanding." She drew back, embarassed by her oulandish display of emotion.

"I have to meet with Seth in a few moments, but I promise I'll try to harass you more often," she teased, her cheeks still pink from the awkward situation. She flew from the room, leaving Brendan with a bemused smile upon his face.

As the diminutive caravan reached the gates of the castle, Avalynn hastily straightened her posture and adjusted her skirts. Likewise, Laera also attempted to do some last minute primping, both women knowing the importance of a good first impression. Grathorn dismounted, then, and approached the guards that held posts before the entrance. He retrieved a rolled parchment and displayed its seal -- the seal of the Queen Mother. With a concise nod of approval, a guard gave the order to open the gates, and Grathorn returned to his horse. "Let's go," was all he said.

Avalynn and Laera exchanged curious glances but moved obediently in a brisk pace toward the castle. As the caravan moved through the courtyard, the women observed their surroundings -- a place that would soon be their home -- and were impressed with the intricate stonework and landscaping that they perchanced to see. However, the most interesting building was the castle itself, and the pair approached it in awe.

"Close your mouths if you want to look like ladies," grunted Grathorn as he began to unload the pack horses. Somewhat abashed, Avalynn and Laera ceased their gawking and dismounted themselves rather clumsily. Tashir's intuition responded and the falcon launched into the air.

"Preposterous dress!" Ava cried as she nearly tripped over her skirts and fell flat on her face. Fortunately, she was caught by a quick Grathorn. Well, unfortunately. With a haughty scoff, Avalynn tore herself from the male's hands, furiously wiping the invisible dust from her dress. Grathorn simply rolled his eyes and returned to unloading the horses.

"I'd suggest you kept to more appropriate language, m'lady Avalynn," mocked Laera from a few feet away. For a moment the two exchanged gazes as if they were prepared to rip each other's throats out, but instead, Ava gave a careless shrug and looked away. Some battles were fought with words, some with arms, and some with indecipherable actions.

Grathorn cleared his throat, gaining attention from the women. "I'm not staying to see you two to bed, thank all, so give this scroll to a herald and the Queen Mother will see to your needs." With a nod toward the castle's grand entrance, he held the parchment out between them. Impulsively, both women grabbed out at the missive, but only Avalynn was successful. She gave Laera a gaudy smirk before cradling the item as if it were worth an entire kingdom. Grathorn was already mounting his horse. "Take care of each other, ladies," he said in farewell, and with reigns in hand and the pack animals following, Grathorn departed from the courtyard.

Avalynn and Laera exchanged glances once again. "What good fortune! I hadn't expected him to leave so soon!" Exclaimed the elder with a grin.

"Nor I." Weakly laughed the other. "I suppose the beast had enough of us."

"Aye! That hungry pig..." Resisting the unladylike urge to spit, Avalynn instead turned to face the castle's grand entryway. "Hrm...I suppose we find ourselves a herald." Making the first bold step, she gave an earsplitting whistle, to which Tashir obediently responded. And not only did a falcon appear, but a nimble little man decked in Abertawe's colors did, as well. Ava held out the parchment imperiously. "Take us to the Queen Mother, herald, and have someone get our things."

Laera, although impressed with Avalynn's sudden commanding attitude, would not go without words of her own. "Yes, and do so quickly, herald!" She added coolly.

With a hurried 'right this way,' the little man sprinted into the castle and delivered the women to the Queen Mother. The two must've been an amusing sight, indeed -- Avalynn with a bird of prey resting on her shoulder, and Laera with her chin held up too high for comfort. Both were attempting to smother the nervousness that threatened to take hold.

Isa looked up as the two women were ushered into her parlor. Her eyebrow raised at the sight of the somewhat disheveled women. One stood like a man dressed in woman's clothes and the other, well, the other forced her to smile. "Ladies? What may I do with you?"

Recalling proper etiquette, Avalynn dropped into an awkward curtsy, followed by Laera's only slightly smoother version. In response to the movement, Tashir once again launched into the air before coming to rest upon a chairback nearby. "I am Avalynn ui Rylliach of your clan, come with word of family. That bird is my companion Tashir, and this is Laera Irenich..." The elder received an elbow to her ribs and hastily and faultily added, "...My Queen..?"

Isa smiled, remembering others who were uncomfortable in court. "Relax ladies and have a seat. We are not in a throne room and I am not queen. I am merely mother to the King."

Laera tossed her counterpart a sour look, as if she had known the right thing to say, but Avalynn was too busy fighting embarrassment to notice. "Yes..." she said uncertainly. "Your family wishes you well and still thinks of you."

Isa smiled again. She thought off her home so little now, that world was alien to her. Yet her younger brother was chief of the clan, and she remembered him fondly.

"Thank you, ladies. Tell me, how does my brother? And his children? Does the clan still prosper?" she asked them in their own language.

The outlander's response was genuine, as the corners of her mouth nearly formed a smile. "Your brother fares well, my lady. However, his eldest was killed in a border battle several years past. They died bravely and your brother mourned their loss for some time. I came to marry his second eldest, Gaern, but he too, was taken in battle. Still, your brother and his clan prospers, for although there are many battles, there are always brave men to fight them. Your brother expresses his care for you and hopes that you are happy in this place..." The woman drew in a deep breath before quickly moving on. She disliked giving tragic news. "The scribe wrote of my request to make my home here at your castle?" Avalynn asked.

"I was told you wish to become a lady in waiting?" Isa said, glad for the news of home.

The pair exchanged glances again quickly before Ava responded. "Yes. A lady-in-waiting to you or whomever you choose. I have brought Laera with me to be my help, if that is acceptable."

"So she is your maid?" Isa inquired carefully. "A maid usually says nothing in the presence of nobles?" Her eyes moved carefully to Laera. "Or is she a companion of equal standing to keep you company?"

Avalynn was struggling to find the appropriate words and was quite enveloped in the task, whereas Laera did her best not to make eye contact with the Queen Mother. The two had been so bold before, but in the face of true royalty, they had become nervous butterflies. Both knew the importance of presenting themselves well, and the thought of a permanent stay in Abertawe began to truly sink into their skulls. This wasn't home.

"She is not a maid in spirit..." Ava finally said. Her words were slow and meticulously chosen, and they held a solemn tone. "But I did not wish to bring a guest into your home without your permission, for she is another mouth to feed...but I could not come alone. I will work to keep her here, if that is your wish." Laera, somewhat touched by the other woman's choice of words, gave Avalynn's hand a gentle squeeze. For once, the two exchanged slight smiles.

Isa thought for a moment. "Then you both my serve as ladies in waiting." She finally said. "I will speak to Alterian and see about your rooms and your position. He will arrange instruction of your duties here at court." Isa stood and went to the wall and pulled a cord.

Ignoring the anxiousness that pressed in her stomach, Ava instead stood in awe of Isa's superior grace and manners -- was she supposed to manage herself like that, someday? It was truly hard to imagine that such a woman could have come from her own clan, as this was something she had never really glimpsed before. "Thank you very much," said Laera gratefully in her counterpart's lack of speech. In a rush of embarrassment, Avalynn emerged from her daze and quickly added her own words of appreciation. Together, the jittery pair awaited their fate.

Isa smiled at the pair. A maid entered and Isa turned to her. "Please show these ladies to chambers they can share. I think the west suite would be best as it has two bedchambers and a center sitting room."

The maid bobbed. "Yes, mum." She turned to the two young women. "Right this way miladies."

"I will make sure your baggage is brought to your rooms." Isa assured them. "I will assign a maid to help you as well. Welcome to Abertawe ladies." Isa smiled graciously at the pair. They looked like children to the city for the first time. Had she ever been like that?

Eyes wide in wonder, Avalynn and Laera truly were as children. The west chamber suite? It was more than they would have dared ask for. "...thank you so much," the younger managed to sputter. Clumsily, the two dipped again in curtsy, murmuring words of thanks. Ava then quickly gave a whistle, though it was not nearly as loud as the previous, and Tashir was soon upon her shoulder.

"She was so...refined and elegant and generous," whispered Ava as she followed close beside the maid.

"Our own rooms here in the castle..." came Laera's off-subject reply. "I wonder when we eat." Both women had completely different thoughts, but as they were led to their chambers, they were equally aware of how much change would soon take place in their lives. For better or worse.