Upheaval and Change - Tales 24

Mae was dressed in the finest court clothes for this occasion. Her gown was a deep green velvet and it's cloth ran down her arms like two long wings. Her hair was pinned up in fine curls, Mae was the epitome of a lady, knight and noble. The King had not truly met his High Knight of Earth, she needed to make a good impression. For her own sake and Seth's.

It had been a little over an hour before they were called into the hall. It had been a busy day full of appointments. "I pray he is still in good spirits" she whispered to Seth as the two large doors were opened and the heads of every spectator turned. Mae raised her chin proudly and slowly stepped down the carpet towards the throne.

Seth was nervous, but for the sake of his love and for his own sake he walked the best he could. He would do the best that he could, nothing more could be asked from him.

The king was tired, he had spent an exhausting hour with his father, iorwerth had told him what had happened. And hawk really did not know what to do about it. He just wished that those kids had been more careful.

Several pacees in front of the throne, Mae fell into a deep curtsy. She knew court ettiquette well and did not want to disrespect her King. Seth followed suit bowing low.

"Rise, both of you. My lady, how can I help you?" The King said in a friendly manner, ignoring the young man for now.

Mae rose and answered, "Sire, if you so wish it, I have come to speak on this squire's behalf." Her eyes sparkled with an emerald fire.

the king looked at both of them. "I think he can speak for himself. Seth, I would like to hear your side of the story now. I talked to my father this morning."

Seth walked forward a few steps since he was the one to be speaking. He was not sure where to start so he asked,"Sire, what is it you wish to know?"

Mae respectfully interjected, "Your Highness, before we begin I humbly request that Princess Bronwen may be allowed to witness these proceedings. Her prescence may be needed as we continue further?" Mae looked up at her King. She did not want trouble, just fairness.

Hawk regretted that he had not yet had a chance to talk to his sister. He really wanted to talk to her privately, but this would have to do. "Bring her in, my lady. And you, lad I want to know exactly what you did with my sister." He said sternly.

Mae curtsied and gave Seth a quick nod as she left the corridor, reminding him to keep his manners. Time passed and the squire finished recounting the events. At that moment, Mae returned with the Princess.

Seth turned and looked at her with a brief smile before returning to the king. He wasn't sure what he thought of what he said. Hopefully, his love would tell what happened and why. He just hoped it wouldn't be too much for her.

Bronwen was pale and her eyes were swollen from the many tears spilled. She gave a deep cutsey to her brother but did not look him in the face.

"Bron." he said softly. "I want you to tell me what happened in your own words."

"In regards to what?" She asked softly. She didn't want to speak of one topic when he meant another.

"about what happened between you and Seth and most importantly which man you want in your life, little sister." he said gently.

"What happened between Seth and I, I would think, is between Seth and I. If I had a choice, it is he that I would wish to marry." She answered quietly. She was afraid of so many things and that fear showed in her face.

Seth smiled inwardly, but it showed that he was glad she had spoken her heart, however afriad she was. he was just very grateful that she had not been too afraid to tell the truth.

"I wish you two had kept it private. But I am afraid it is now a matter of state, little one. our father is very angry with both of you, and you have brought me in a very difficult situation. We need the support of earl Sanglet, and your action might have lost us that." Inwardly he wished the girl had made up her mind sooner, that would have saved Sanglet this embarrassment. The earl was not the kind of man to be able to take that.

"We did keep it private." Bronwen stated a little impertitantly. "But the Earl had me followed everywhere I went." She blushed for she shouldn't have needed following in the first place.

"But I thought you had promised father that you would not go to far with a man and you broke that promise! And brought us all in e very difficult position! Now do you have a solution?", he asked.

She looked up in pain. "I did not mean to break that promise." She whispered. Bronwen was red with embarassment for Ian, Seth and Mae were here. "Why do people have to tell anyone?" Bronwen thought her shame of being caught would be private. "No one in court need know?"

Mae glanced at Bronwen and back at her king, "Sire we do have a solution."

Hawk nodded for her to speak.

"A joust sire." Answered Mae from behind the group. She noticed Hawk's puzzled looked and explained further. "It is evident Sanglett gained your sister's hand in a deceitful manner. This alone should dissolve any contract. But the Earl and stuffed shirt nobles would cry out against such a ruling. It is law and well practiced in such a circumstance to host a joust. None can deny, the winner takes her hand." She arched an eyebrow and stepped forward, "The young squire has begun training. It is your word we await Sire, it is an answer to the problem."

"I will not allow a joust, Seth is not a knight and he cannot joust." He turned to his sister, "There is already gossip around the court, I`m afraid. I think you and I should talk alone for a while." He looked pointedly at the other two.

"Sanglett is an Earl and he cannot treat a lady, YOUR sister, in such a unlawful manner." Mae rebuked and curtsied. She stepped backwards before turning her back on the King and Princess. This she did not agree with at all.
Seth glanced a slight reassuring smile at Bronwen before slipping out with a slight bow to the King. He just hoped this would turn out alright.

One is never so satisfied with one's lot in life, as when one is gossiping about the misfortune of others. The truth of that statement struck home on Pwyll as he gazed on the empty wreck of a tavern before him. He had been looking for a public house in financial trouble for at least two weeks, and during his inquiries was faced time and time again by the sad story of the Swan and its fall from grace. It didn't matter if the person was a tax collector, a gentleman, or a drunkard, all delighted in recounting the story of how a wealthy publican was brought low by a series of unfortunate events.

The tavern had a reasonably large common room, although it held maybe a tenth of the seats and tables it could have handled. No fire burned in its hearth, though the wind, which seemed to blow through the very walls, was biting. The door to the cooking area, which should have had servers filing through it laden with the meat of the day, stood quiet and unopened even though the supper hour was at hand. In fact, the only hint that the tavern was not entirely abandoned was the presence of two individuals -- one of whom was actually conscious.

Pwyll walked to the bar and sat down in sturdiest looking of the decrepit stools that ringed the area. The old bar keep didn't move. He just stared at Pwyll, half expecting the strange creature to disappear in a puff of smoke, or to realize that he had made a terrible mistake and simply walk out. When the creature did neither, the old man approached him and asked, "Would you like something?"

Pwyll grinned back at the curious expression on the on the old man's face. Producing a silver shilling from the folds of his kilt, he held it up. "Aye. I'd like a tankard of your finest." Pwyll observed the hungry look in the man's eye as he gazed at the bright silver coin. If the appearance of the tavern had not already told him he had come to the right place, then the look in that eye did.

"I'm sorry m'lord, although I would dearly like to take your coin, I cannot for I have neither change or fine drink to give." The old bar keep tried to look away so as to hide his embarrassment.

"Then give me a draught of what you have, and pull one for yourself," Pwyll asked with a note of sympathy in his voice. "I have smaller coin." The old man turned, tapped a small keg, and drew two mugs of the reddish ale. Setting the drinks on the bar, he took the copper coins offered by Pwyll and slipped them into an obviously empty pouch.

"Business seems slow," Pwyll asked conversationally, although he knew from his discussions with others that business had been slow for many years.

"Aye," came the old man's response. "Custom has not been good since they moved the main road between the castle and market-gate."

"And when was that?" Pwyll almost gagged on the watered and soured ale.

"About twelve summers past." He paused, and it appeared to Pwyll that he was remembering better times. "Those were good days. We had travelers and drovers and gentry here every night. The common room was always full, and even the small parlors in behind the bar saw plenty of custom. My wife and I lived well for many summers -- until they moved the road. Custom fell off slowly and eventually dried up. Maybe if we'd been closer to the market we could have managed."

"Where is your wife?" Pwyll asked in a kindly voice.

"Passed on from a wasting illness some seven winters ago." He paused a moment before realizing that he had just poured out his troubles on a paying customer. "Beg pardon, m'lord. I didn't mean to be rambling on. Thank ye kindly for the drink."

"Think nothing of it." Pwyll noticed that the bar keep had done the sensible thing and had not drunk any of the swill he served.

"And you sir, what brings you to the Swan, so far from the kings road. Surely you're not looking for a room?"

"No," replied Pwyll, "I actually came looking for you."

The old man was obviously surprised. Unless this man had come from the moneylender, he could think of no reason why anyone would seek him out. The old man was genuinely puzzled. "What do you want of me?"

"I want a business partner."

The old man looked incredulously at the stranger. "M'lord for that shilling you have and two more like it you could have all this," he gestured to the room around him, "Though to be fair to you sir it would not be a good bargain. The roof needs to be rethatched and the walls repaired, and as to the custom..." He again gestured to the room. "As you can see, not a wise purchase."

"All this I know, and more," Pwyll responded, ticking off items on his fingers, "First, your name is Swithen, and although misfortune hounds you, you are a trustworthy man; second, you owe the money lenders the sum of one pound six shillings, including interest; third, the tax man nips at your heels because you haven't paid his bribe price; and finally, the ale you serve is not only watered, but watered badly and spoiled. I know all this, yet still I want you as a partner. Are you interested?"

Swithen thought about this only for a moment. "If you know all this, then you are forewarned. Who am I to stand in the way of a fool and his money," he said with a small smile.

Pwyll introduced himself and briefly sketched the details of the offer. The spilt would be one third to Swithen and two thirds to Pwyll. Swithen would receive his three shillings and would continue to run the tavern and draw pay when profits permitted. Pwyll would supply coin to keep the moneylenders and taxman at bay, as well as pay for necessary repairs, foodstuffs and serving staff. Pwyll would also see that good ale and meat was delivered regularly and without initial charge. "All I ask in exchange is that you keep our partnership secret, that you not ask questions about the ale, food, or any other items delivered, and that from time to time you let certain acquaintances of mine room here for free and without question." Pwyll concluded.

Although Swithen was an honest man -- and realized that some of the truck and trade suggested was probably illegal -- he knew that this offer was more than fair. To see his business rise out of the ashes in itself would be worth the price of such dealings. After a few moments of further consideration, he spat on his hand and extended it to his new partner, who returned the pledge. The old Swan would be reborn as a noble beast.

When the large chamber door shut behind her, Avalynn exhaled heavily, a whole horde of thoughts released with her breath. "I cannae believe I was such a... a... frozen corpse! I cant curtsy, I don't know what to call anyone...how am I supposed to survive in this forsaken castle?" As if in sympathy, Ava's feathered companion gently nudged her with its beak. "I know, Tashir...patience. But what am I supposed to do in this dungeon all day? Surely the Queen Mother," she blanched at the title, remembering her error, "...doesn't need to be waited on all that much. Surely she has a number of lower servants to jump at her every word." The woman stroked the bird's feathers as she rambled on. The fire that had roared within her this morning had been reduced to cold ashes. "But it's too late to go back, now..."

"Oh, my! Ava, come look at this seat!" Exclaimed Laera as she pointed furiously at the center-room couch.

The elder responded with a grimace, but her agitation was hardly roused -- she simply didn't have the will to be irascible at the moment. By chance, however, the corner of her eye caught sight of her bags that had been placed neatly behind the door. "Our things are here," she said plainly. Slowly beneath the balanced weight of the falcon, Avalynn bent to pick up one of her sitting items.

"Feel how soft this is! Oooh, I wonder what the rooms are like," giggled Lae, skittering to the door on the far left. She hurriedly flung it open and was met with a long, loud gasp of pure glee, "Oooooh! This one's mine! It's beautiful!"

When Tashir's wooden stand was set up, Avalynn transferred the bird from her shoulder and removed the strange leather shawl that she wore. "I'll take you out in a while," she whispered to the falcon. "I deserve a look at my new room, don't I?" Gently biting her lower lip, the outlander crept toward the door opposite to the one Lae had approached. She placed her hand upon it and pushed, slowly revealing the room's interior. A quiet 'oh' was all she could manage.

"The covers are so soft! And look at the rug!" Came Laera's voice. "Ava? ... Ava?"

But Avalynn wasn't interested in the fine covers or the rug beneath her feet. Along the main wall was an enormous window -- a window that allowed her to see the royal gardens and beyond. Sunset was approaching, evident by a smeared horizon of reds and yellows. "It -is- beautiful," she murmured quietly to herself. "Beautiful."

"Ava? Are you listening to me?"

"No," came the simple reply. Within her new quarters, Avalynn approached the large bed. It was draped in fine soft sheets and had large fluffy pillows, but she merely said to herself, "Gaern will never sleep in it." Releasing a weak sigh, Ava lowered herself onto the mattress. She faced the window, and for a long moment was simply lost in thought. Her family believed she mourned too much for too long. Find a new husband, they said. Have children, they said. But that was like telling a bird to separate from its wings, Avalynn knew, and it could not be done. She was disinterested in the thought of remarrying just as she was disinterested in the thought of becoming a bobbing, gossiping servant. Laera, she knew, was all too eager to throw herself at some dashing lord. "Gaern will never see this view," came another murmur. Driven by a slowly growing desire, the outlander finally picked herself up and left! the splendid sight that poured through the window.

"Ava! How do you like your new room?" Asked the beaming Laera.

"It's great. I'm going to take Tashir out for some fresh air," answered Avalynn, her calloused, unladylike hands already reaching for the leather shawl.

"But what about an evening meal?"

"I'll return soon."

"Oh... all right. I'm going to unpack my things," Lae said giddily, grabbing her two large bags from behind the door. "But if you don't come back for dinner, don't expect me to save anything for you."

Avalynn just shrugged. "That's fine." After gathering Tashir on her rested shoulder, the outlander opened the chamber door and disappeared into the corridor. She had an ache to see those gardens firsthand.

"Ahh..." said Cibno, shifting from foot to foot uneasily while hiking up the broad leather belt of his scabbard with his large and sweaty hands. "Sir... if I ah, could... have a word?"

Wolfhear looked up in surprise. "Of course? What is it man?" He only vaguely recognized the man.

"Well... the men have sent me to, ah, report that a few of the mercs have... left." He chewed on his lower lip and mentally cursed his luck. For some reason, he always seemed to draw the short straw when a bearer of unfortunate news was needed.

"Left? What in hades name do you mean Left?" Wolfhear looked up somewhat alarmed. Had the general wooed away more of his men?

"Gone, sir. 'Got a better offer' I believe I, ah, heard Daig say. He was a bit drunk at the time, but he seemed to be in a right jolly mood regardless." Bastard, he thought. He swallowed with some difficulty. "About fifty men in total, sir."

Wolfhear tossed the man 10 silver coins. "Thank you for the warning. I will investigate." Who could be seducing his mercenaries away? Or.. where were they going? He decided to go find Liath.

Mouth agape, Cibno watched Wolfhear stalk away, barely recognising the coolness of silver coins in his palm. Suddenly, he realised what had been pulled on him. With a scowl now beginning to fester in his expression, he stormed off to find some 'drinking pals'. He had not paused to wonder why they had been so...overzealous in their descriptions of Wolfhear's personality. Their laughter was ringing in his ears already.

In need of a moment of peace and fresh air, Avalynn gathered her falcon and snuck from her new room in search of the castle gardens. Thanks to a kind guard on patrol, she was able to find her way. "Here we are, Tashir," she said quietly to the bird as they stood just beyond the threshold. "Enjoy yourself while I speak to your former master." At a flick of her wrist -- a keen signal -- the falcon spread its wings and made flight through the gently wafting air.

Avalynn stood still a moment, gazing over the carefully planned and maintained gardens. It wasn't home, perhaps, but it was soothing as she took in the orange clouds of sunset and the verdant, undulating forms of various plants and trees -- they all seemed to dance to the same soft whisper. Extending a hand behind her head, she pulled and tugged the pins from her hair, allowing the dark, wavy locks to cascade about her shoulders. Ava could feel the breeze, and she spoke to it.

"Gaern...it has been some time, I know... but I have been busy fending off so many men interested in the fine things you left me," she whispered affectionately. As if in response, a gentle stream of air caressed her cheek, and Avalynn tilted her head toward it, embracing it. "I feel much change approaching for me...and Laera, too. Yes, I am glad to have Lae with me here in this land, but she is so eager to become someone else. She aspires to be a true lady." Holding her arms against her chest, the young woman sighed quietly before continuing. "Your aunt is in good health -- I spoke to her earlier and make a gawking dungheap of myself. Tashir? She is well... she will like it here, I think. She misses you, Gaern. ...I miss you..." And then it was gone, the air having become still once again. Drawing in a deep breath, Ava simply stood then in silence, watching over the colorful tableau before her.

* * * * * *

"Umm... A...A! E? ... A."

"E."

"E!!" Nia muttered a curse under her breath and sighed fitfully. "So close..."

"Aye," said Amlyn. "You had it. Not to worry," he added. "It's getting late, and we have done enough today already."

Nia rubbed her sore eyes while Amlyn gathered up the papers scattered about on the table. It seemed that she spent more time mentally willing the letters to make some sense, rather than letting her brain just digest the symbols.

"I would not concern yourself over it," said Amlyn. "It is only the second day you've had learning to read." He stood up and gestured to the door. "Go and do something else, take a walk, clear your head."

She pushed herself away from the table, still grumbling, and walked over to the door. "Don't be too late back," Amyln warned her.

The door closed. Left alone in the empty room, Amlyn threw the sheaf of papers back down onto the table, and sighed deeply himself. He had not expected it to be this... time consuming, to teach someone from scratch. While Nia was bright, nothing would come without hard work and patience. He did not mind the work: it was learning to allow the passage of time that bothered him. Spending two years in prison was a different matter, for the responsibility of others did not rest on his shoulders.

Tashir landed on the open window sill with a flutter of wings, and stepped delicately about while adjusting her balance. Her head bobbed about, scanning the room, as graceful wings began to fold in towards her body.

Alerted by the noise, Amlyn froze. He turned about slowly to the window, and stared in disbelief at the falcon now perched in front of him. Beyond Tashir, streaks of the falling dusk smeared the tops of the few trees in the garden, like burning crowns in the hottest of wildfires. While it was not quite the same bird as that in his vision, it's appearance, here, struck him quite profoundly.

They exchanged a look, for seconds that seemed to stretch on for ages. Then a brief gust of air surged through the window, which seemed to pick the bird of prey off the sill and send it soaring back outside.

At that point, Amlyn burst into life. Despite the pain in his leg, he half-ran, half-stumbled out of the door and around the corridor, taking two steps at a time to reach the bottom floor and almost falling down the last several feet. Scattering a couple of startled servants, he quickly passed through the archway and into the gardens beyond. The crunch of gravel underfoot was the only indication he had to stay on the pathways, for his eyes were peeled to the skies. To his growing dismay, he couldn't see it anywhere.

"All you all right, sir?" Standing a few yards away was Avalynn, her shoulders covered in a special leather shawl upon which her falcon rested. She lifted a hand to stroke the bird's sleek chest, while not one but two pairs of eyes gazed thoughtfully at the man who had practically burst into the area. Framed by that almost surreal backdrop of sunset and with a falcon perched upon her shoulder, Ava could have appeared a goddess, then. Her form was draped in a thin gown of golden yellow, and her wavy sable tresses fell loose against her back. When she spoke, her words were thick with accent.

Amlyn came to an abrupt halt, subconsciously pulling up on his wounded leg to keep his weight from bearing down on it. At first, he had trouble comprehending what he saw, stymied beyond all hope by both the shock of almost running into Avalynn and the splendor of the setting he found himself witness to. Pulling himself together took a monumental effort.

"... Aye," he croaked. "I... I am sorry if I startled thee."

"I was not startled, but Tashir here was," Avalynn said simply as she lifted a hand to again stroke and calm the bird. Then, as if one, the woman and her falcon tilted their heads ever so slightly, examining the strange fellow, his confused expression, and his hindered leg. "Are you looking for someone?" Asked Ava curiously. There must have been a reason for this stranger to have come barreling into the area. Or maybe he just really liked the gardens.

"I have never seen a bird such as... Tashir, before." he said. "It landed on my window sill, and..." he paused, looking for words. "... I needed to know more." He grimaced slightly.

The woman heaved her shoulders in a light shrug. "Tashir is harmless at the moment," she said plainly and without emphasis, for she spoke simple truth about the falcon. Undoubtedly yet unknowingly, the strange man was lucky to have found her in a more gentle mood, as the day had worn much of her fire away. "Would you like to touch her?" Avalynn asked, her earthy-colored gaze set upon him. She saw age and experience in his features, not the unrefined and headstrong manners of a young man, and so she was not so wary of him.

Amlyn knew nothing about falconry, apart from being able to identify the more common breeds. His attention now diverted to Tashir by Avalynn, his mind was able to focus once again. What did this mean? Was it coincidence, or some matter of fate? It wasn't the same bird, but landing on his window sill so soon after his dream... A sense of unease settled over him. "... Nay, my lady." He was not fearful of the bird, but more concerned by what was happening. Besides which, he had a feeling that he had already unsettled the bird enough by his entrance. "I think I have upset Tashir enough for one evening."

"Tashir is not a faint animal, but as you wish," replied Avalynn. Interpreting the man's unwillingness to participate as a sign to disengage the conversation, she bent forward slightly in a polite gesture and turned to immerse herself further within the gardens. The stranger's unease had been obvious to her, so she would not press herself upon him.

Amlyn saw her turn to leave, and instantly regretted declining. "I am sorry, I have been rude," he said quickly. His superstitious side began to nag condescendingly at him, but he ignored it. "My name is Amlyn, I am one of the guests of the Regent here."

Halted by his sudden introduction, Ava did not pursue the gardens nor did she approach him. "I am Avalynn ui Rylliach; I am not from this land," she said. Her perched companion gently brushed her cheek with its nib and the outlander added with the hint of a smile, "And this, of course, is Tashir. She was a gift from my late husband. She is a smart animal and knows many signs -- sounds and movements. She can hunt small mammals from the sky and she can deliver messages over distances." All the while she spoke, Avalynn proudly and affectionately caressed the bird's sleek feathers.

"My condolences for your husband," said Amlyn, with genuine sorrow. He was still coming to terms with the news of his mother's death, particularly over the manner in which it occurred. "He has left you with a noble companion," he added, noticing the obvious bond between the two. "If I may ask, what breed of bird is Tashir? I have not seen one like her, though I claim to be no expert in such things."

Giving no response to the mention of her husband, Avalynn continued the display of her bird. There truly was a bond. "Tashir is a peregrine falcon, a relatively common breed. They come in many colors and sizes, but they are all very fast," she said with pride. "Tashir is fast enough to hunt other birds." Despite the norms of falconry, the magnificent creature on Ava's shoulder wore very few tethers.

"Ava?" Came Laera's voice even before her form appeared. "Ava!" She stood now in the arched entrance to the gardens, practically glaring over Amlyn's shoulder. Her exclamation had startled the bird, and again, the falconer was stroking Tashir's breast calmingly. Not appearing to notice the third wheel, Laera spoke a few terse sentences in her own language, to which her counterpart nodded in understanding.

Shifting her gaze back to the gentleman, the elder politely said, "My friend informs me that dinner is being served, and it seems I must be leaving. It was good to meet you, Amlyn." Tashir, too, seemed to be watching him in interest, but the colorful sunset had much faded, now, and the two appeared just as a falconer and her companion.

"Aye - Avalynn. Good evening... To you both." He briefly bowed and stepped away from the path to allow Avalynn to leave. A million questions swam around in his head, but like many times before it seemed he lacked the mouth to bring forward the words. How absurd it would be, to talk about dreams and visions, and expect his audience to understand. Deirdre had been right: he could only speak in riddles when it came to conveying his feelings.

Had she almost made a friend in this forsaken place? The garden hardly seemed forsaken. Avalynn stepped past the odd gentleman, getting a final glimpse from the corner of her eye before following Laera through the archway. Perhaps she would see him again, sometime, from the other side of her window above.