The
Heirs of Britain
Session
21: 487, The Weight of the
Realm
_____
Session 21: In the Manors of Salisbury _____
Lady Diane has birthed with little trouble; the baby grows well enough, and the cunning woman is at once back to her scheming on Sir Elvorix’s behalf. Knoweth she well that King Uther travels his lands, and once more she joins his entourage.
The
Roman, home at Shrewton, receives from her a letter in February, as the talons
of winter still hold their grip on his lands. She writes of small things and
the King’s progress; she writes that Uther intends to attend Sarum for Easter
this year. Elvorix, astute to signs of intrigue, takes no small note of the
uncertain spelling of some phrases. Knowing well his wife, at once he knows
what is afoot: She would not write this sloppily by accident. In the mistakes, with
his shrewd eye, he discovers a coded message:
Ghosts
of false loyalties haunt the crown.
Oaths
will be resworn as Christ is reborn.
The
Vale guides the royal gaze to the bond of Plain and Peninsula.
The
Rock will be tested under the weight of the realm.
He dwells on this a time, a drink his only company… At last he downs the last of his cup, bids his steed saddled, and rides hence for Winterbourne Manor. There, the shrewd Roman finds Sir Vandagild clattering wooden swords with his children. The Aquitanian offers him warm hospitality; together they think, and find these answers to Diane’s riddle:
Uther
holds suspicion, for he has been betrayed in the past? A challenge of loyalty
cometh; and Duke Ulfius turns the King’s mistrust to Earl Roderick? They ride at
once for Sarum; this news may be urgent, and Salisbury will need to prepare.
The knowledge of King Uther's visit is not yet public; it does not become so
until less than a month before the King's visit. Vandagild wonders if this late
notice is part of the greater scheme. Elvorix’s timing is well, for the scarred
hunter also seeketh audience with the Earl; they must strategise to discuss the
cursed Sir Blains.
__________ Warning the Earl __________
The two knights are greeted first by Lady Ellen; they have not spoken with her in many years, since first they visited her father’s lands. Her courtesy is quiet, but graceful and well-becoming. Her shyness is clear, but she is neither nervous not uncomfortable: The Earl will see the men that afternoon.
In his chambers Roderick speaks with Sir Godifer; the latter smiles at the two friends, but the Earl speaks first, speaking warmly:
“Good Sir Knights! Be’eth it good to see thee; but an odd occasion, no? Is something the matter?”
Sir Elvorix returns the greeting, but steps forth with quieter words: “My Lord, haveth I news of secretive things; I wish to deliver it alone if possible.”
An eyebrow perks, and the bearer inquires; does Godifer object to missing such secrets as these fine men bring?
“Ahh. Nay my Lord, tis fine, really…” says the man awkwardly, leaving with no fuss.
Sir Elvorix pierces the corners of the room with his suspicious eye: There a servant fixes the fire. The Roman clears his throat; the servant takes a moment to notice and, embarrassed, drops his firewood, apologies, and shuffles out of the room.
The knight steps closer, whispering in the Earl's ear: He conveys the warning of King Uther's visit, inspired by ill-spirited counsellors, and a potential challenge of loyalty to come.
“I thought it wise to warn thee ahead of time.”
“Ill-spirited Counsellors? Who?”
“Ulfius, my Lord.”
“That son of a bitch!” spits the Earl, his face twisting darkly.
“Certainly did thee right by telling me…” he utters, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply.
“Perhaps Gorlois hath gone too far. That dog Ulfius sends now the King to breathe down my neck… And he will ask for my fealty? Again!? Hath he no right! No right at all; to ask, nor doubt my loyalty!”
Roderick fumes; but beneath the fire there is worry.
Sir Elvorix repeats the riddle for the Earl; he wishes not to mislead his Lord, perhaps he misunderstood the message? The Earl mutters through it once, twice, thinking; soon he sits in silence. Sir Vandagild brings the men wine, setting goblets down before each. The Earl nods in thanks, sipping thoughtfully.
“No.” the Earl begins, “No; clever is thy wife; and you see it true. I see more of her meaning: Uther means to bleed me dry. I am to host him. And sure, am I, that he will never leave. Salisbury will starve and break under the weight of the Kingdom.”
He sighs, heavily.
“And that slinking jackal, Sir Blains, will pounce upon the bones.” Sir Vandagild adds, scowling and disgusted.
Roderick nods again, swearing.
“If he means to test me, I have no doubt he will test, too, Duke Gorlois.”
“Will he come to Easter?” from the Roman.
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Well, Uther must leave then some day; for he will be eager to test Cornwall, my Lord.”
The Earl thinks again: “I worry; is this meant just for me? I will be tested, yea, but there are other Lords who… well. I hear Corneus has been something of a shit. To the King, at least. And heard too, have I, of Barons east of Glevum who are miscreant...”
“The King intends to make of thee an example, My Lord?” Vandagild wonders.
“No doubt. So yet: How do we move; what path forth must we take?”
In the ensuing silence, Elvorix quietly praises his wife's cipher and wit; Sir Vandagild finishes his drink, finding little solace in the warm flavour.
Roderick stands, and thanks both men.
“Much to prepare, hath I. We will hunt from the countryside, even now in this bitter cold, and by grace of God shore up our foodstocks. I will see what else we can bring together…”
Sir Elvorix offers to assist with his wine cellar, but the Earl has other plans:
“Nay, Elvorix. I would trust thee with this, instead: Take a message to Gorlois, or Brastias. He might help. Time is tight, but we might manage. Go swiftly.” He says, writing swiftly on small parchment, pressing his ring to the wax seal.
As he does, Sir Elvorix asks for a third knight to come: Sir Uhtred.
The Earl acknowledges their history: “Fine. I will take it from thee both; If believe thee he can be trusted that's good enough for me.”
“We will tell him little, my Lord; Indeed, Sir Vandagild only knoweth for he helped me decipher the thing. But his strong arm may be welcome if the plot runs deeper and darker than we know.”
The Earl nods, acknowledgment and thanks. Frustrated with this new pressure, he mutters profanity, moves to his desk, and dismisses the men with a wave.
Sent once more to fulfil their Lords bidding, and coming to his aid unbidden, both men are now famed among the folk of Logres for their Loyalty to the Earl of Salisbury.
__________ Dark Tidings __________
The three knights ride west to Cornwall; finding fair welcome and safe escort to the far side of that land, to Tintagel. Once more, the imposing castle atop the cliff, overlooking the sea, impresses the knights. There is less snow and more melt.
They are greeted at the gatehouse, asked to wait, and then Sir Brastias once more attends. He is gruff, as usual, but offers less of a browbeating than at their first meeting; a small mercy.
“Ah, the two Salisbury men, returned again.”; both visitors greet the loyal knight.
“And you bring another; a mute?”
“I am no mute,” rumbles Sir Uhtred, firmly, “I can speak for myself. I assumed the men you knew would be a better introduction.”
Brastias nods once, shortly: “I like a man who can speak for himself. Why are you here?”
“I was asked to come along; I stormed the walls of Devizes with these men.”
“Ah! A war hero, then. Good.” Sir Brastias replies; Sir Vandagild chuckles softly.
“And purpose have thee all for thy visit, then?:
“Diplomacy. Regarding some pressure from the King. It is a subtle matter.” Says Vandagild.
Brastias huffs “What, old Uther giving you a rub and tug?”
Vandagild laughs again, allowing Sir Elvorix to reply: “It is a private message. For the Duke.”
Brastias grunts, and leads the Wolves of Logres within.
The
castle is still beautiful; haunting, but beautiful. The touch of Ygraine is more
obvious to the men who know it, and the halls impress. Duke Gorlois and Lady Ygraine
stand in the hall; the latter kneeling beside one of her children. She whispers
something, smiles beauteously, and stands to greet the knights.
Sir Uhtred holds her eye: Time slows as she rises and the huge man is entranced. He stares, mouth agaping slowly. Sir Vandagild, once more noting her beauty and grace, suppresses his own love for this fine lady under the importance of this mission; he forces his eye to the Duke, and smiles. Alas, once more Sir Elvorix is smitten - he cannot pulls his eyes from the angelic woman, nor focus on the task at hand. His brain is fogged with the mist of her perfection.
The Aquitanian, noticing his ensorcelled compaions, takes the lead: He greets the Duke, who still plays with two daughters; one a teen, one a child, both with long black hair. Gorlois raises a hand in greeting and acknowledgement; he cheerfully whispers to the two girls, who skip out of the hall, and stands in his hunched way.
The Duke, with open arms, calls warmly from across the room he now crosses: “Ahh, my favourite knights of Cornwall! Welcome, welcome. I hope the journey was well; did the winter treat thee harshly?”
“Only as harshly as we deserve; many thanks, your Grace” says the hunter, lightly.
Some small words of greeting and well-wishing precede the point of the visit; when asked, Sir Vandagild warns that the matter is best kept for the Duke’s ears. There are two guards in the room, and Sir Brastias.
“I trust my men, Sir Vandagild; whatever thee might say, I am happy for them to hear.”
Nodding, the Aquitanian explains the matter, and the coded message, highlighting the work of Duke Ulfius against them, and the risk of a "test" by the King.
Listening carefully, Gorlois thinks heavily; his bushy eyebrows overhang his kind, but serious eyes.
Brastias is the first to speak, hand dropping to his hilt: “The King has no right! If maketh he demands of thy loyalty… well: He can try to take it from you!”
Gorlois says nothing.
Sir Elvorix jerks his eyes away from Ygraine: “Your Grace: You are sworn to Uther. You made the oath with a sound mind before; I'm sure you will make the right decision again, Sir.”
Elvorix's eyes drift, however, and he looks mostly at Ygraine as he says this.
Aware of his gaze, Ygraine takes her moment to speak; her voice is soft, warm, with an enchanting timbre: “The King... is a... troubled man. I suspect he is, as the message says, being led astray by Duke Ulfius.”
Elvorix:
“Well said, my Lady!”
“Perhaps,” the Lady continue with grace, “if someone of clear mind were to speak with him, this may all be resolved.”
Elvorix: “Precisely, my lady. Yet he hath been poisoned through his ear for some time now; the challenge is great.”
There is a silence; Ygraine nods slowly, walking to the Duke, taking his gnarled hand in her smooth, perfect one. She continues:
“It is a humiliating thing, for a King to demand his subjects swear once more their oaths. A humiliation against their Honour, and their Word.”
She turns to her husband: “I do not think it wise for thee, your Grace, my Love, to subject thyself to this humiliation.”
Sir Vandagild watches her carefully, trying to find if she says this with softness or hard pride. There is a dangerous implication under her delicate voice. He turns his eye to the Duke, watching for a response.
Sir Elvorix recovers some of his sense, drawing on and inspired by his loyalty to Gorlois, forged on the battlefield in his youngest days as a knight: He considers the laws of court and chivalry, to find some way of absolving the Duke of acquiescing the King’s paranoid, dishonorable request. Perhaps, through law of Hospitality, he can justly deny the King’s demand? He tells the Duke of his his plan; it is convoluted plan, but it should work legally. Uther, however, may see it differently. It will buy time, he says, for his own wily spouse, Lady Diane, to pour honey in Uther’s other ear…
The Duke listens, but says nothing.
Sir Vandagild speaks in turn: He agrees that Ygraine's idea to avoid humiliation is wise; but we mustn’t risk the Kingdom's stability. A hard stand may lead to internal conflict, and that is an opportunity the Saxons, and Irish beside, will not soon forgo. Lest we not forget; the threat, to our lives, our families, lay from those barbaric folk. Uther’s Pride will not kill us like those brutal dogs of foreign lands. Avoid humiliation; yea; delay thy meeting; campaign if thy must. We of Salisbury will have the King’s ear for some time, and Elvorix’s wife is indeed bright. Let us work to becalm his suspicious woes.
__________
Sir Uhtred is quiet.
Gorlois's bushy eyebrows raise: “I want to hear what the big one has to say.”
Sir Uhtred does not hesitate; his chain raises a touch: "Fuck the King. He is out of line. I am Roderick's man until the end of my days. We’re allied: Whatever works best for you is best for my Lord. That said, the plan of Vandagild and the Lady seems the best way out."
He meets the gaze of all in the room: It is the first time any of the men have never seen Sir Brastias smile.
Brastias: “Hah! A true man!”
Sir Elvorix rolls his eyes.
Gorlois does not smile; he walks to his chair, sits slowly, and takes some time to think. He whispers with Ygraine in hushed tones.
Soon enough, he turns once more to his guests: I thank thee, Sir Knights, for bringing this to my attention. I value thy counsel on all of this terrible business. And knoweth I well that my actions here do not just impact myself and my vassals, but your own realm as well.”
His tone turns stern; sober.
“Though I would like very much to... let this all be peaceful, and acquiesce to Uther's every whim, I will not be paraded out, to be put on my knees, to be forced to re-swear to him. I have already sworn; and I have performed my duties diligently.”
Elvorix shoots a short glance to Sir Vandagild; they have spoken on many an occasion of the Duke’s absence on campaigns.
The Roman speaks now.
“Of course, your Grace. Do as you wish; but know thee, I beg, that it would break my heart to besiege thy castle.”
“I wish it will come not to that. If there were more men in this kingdom with balls enough to stand up to him, that would never happen. But I am not a man of fickle words; I do not re-swear my oaths on the whim of a fickle child.”
He stands now, shifting his back, stretching to something approaching his full height.
“Spake thee, that The Rock will feel the weight of the realm come Easter? I suspect, as does thy good Lord it seems, that Uther shall bring some fierce entourage, greater than usual. He will force the poor Earl to host them all indefinitely, and drain his coffers.”
“Sir Brastias: I want thee to round up a dozen men; gather what foodstores and livestock we can spare. Bring it with these men back to Sarum; the Earl is going to need all the food he can get.”
With that, he nods at the three knights and, uncharacteristically dark, he waves them all away.
Sir Vandagild feels dread.
__________ Gorlois’ Generosity __________
The knights ride with several men of Cornwall, escorted by Brastias. The gruff man commands a decent amount of supplies brought forth. He surveys his gathered goods, and turns to three men of Salisbury. Empathy slips onto his face; and he orders the amount increased by half. The train is sent east, across Cornwall, and back to Sarum.
The Knights ride, with some knowledge that the consequences of this mission are yet to be felt...
In a quiet way, in a timely moment back in Salisbury, Vandagild thanks Brastias and his lord for their generosity and compassion.
Brastias nods curtly, but keeps his eyes on the road ahead: “I wish there was more we could do, but.... well. I envy thee not.”
The Aquitanian nods; he bids the man, and his companions, a brief farewell. Forth, he rides, to his own lands: A wagon of fine Aquitanian wine, which he had bought to hunt with Sir Elvorix and Prince Madoc, sits in his cellar. This he gathers, and meets the others at Sarum with his own humble gift for his Lord.
Meanwhile, Sir Elvorix rides beside his enormous Berroc friend.
“Sir Uhtred; It takes guts to say something like that. But know that that statement might have killed them. And us.”
The huge man shrugs: “If it kills them, they weren't strong enough to back it up.”
Sir Elvorix sighs, and shakes his head; “We know they're not strong enough to back it up, Uhtred.”
__________ The Weight of the Realm
__________
Arriving at Sarum, Gorlois' words are proven true: Huge lands are cleared around Sarum, vast swathes of tents fill the fields. Uther has demanded Barons from far across the land attend Sarum, and the weight of the kingdom is now clear. The Wolves arrive now with their supplies, and the Earl is elated. Immediately the goods are distributed to storage areas, and some selected for serving at once. It is approximately a week until Easter, but already people from beyond the county file in. The city fills rapidly over the days.
Sir Vandagild immediately offers to start hunting; he finds Weyland, the Earl's hunstman, who manages the forests and hunts, to provide ample game without depopulating the forests. The knight learns that nearby lands have already been used as best they can, but Vandagild trusts his impressive skill - Weyland directs him to a forest, not well known for game, and which bristles with dense understorey and few trails. Despite the addition challenge, the talented hunter bags a fine deer, which he brings at once to the larder. It is not much, but times are desparate.
A week passes: Sarum has never been this full. Tents, and people, and shit, and things spill out into the countryside. Far past bursting at the seems, it has clearly bursted. Not all present can fit inside the castle walls, even those of rank and import. The challenge of courteously managing expectation and location is a significant issue; arguments emerge; not only Barons complaining about humble beds, but lesser knights scuffling over tents and latrines.
The Wolves of Logres, for their part, find a spot near the wall. It affords some shelter, but carries the risk of waste, human and otherwise, tumbling from those perched atop the walls.
Notably absent, of course, is Duke Gorlois. Sir Elvorix spies carefully the gathered Heraldry: He recalls the many shields and Heraldry in Gorlois' great hall. The Roman knows that these are the Lords of Cornwall. Looking now at the banners across; not one of them is present. Not a Lord of Cornwall is here. Notably, those knights are not vassals of Cornwall, they are vassals of Uther; the defy him in their absence. Their loyalty to Gorlois is now clear.
Among the others not attending are Duke Corneus, also unfavoured by Uther, and Duke Marvais of the Saxon Shore; Lucius and Lady Pomponia attend in the stead of the latter. Every other major vassal is present. Sir Vandagild notes, with derision, that more men dwell now in Sarum than have the valour to attend muster to fight the Saxons. He spits, at the thought.
Sir Elvorix easily learns, as expected, that much of his is born of the urging of Duke Ulfius. Sir Vandagild, with careful attention and shrewd questioning discovers the sinister truth they suspected: Ulfius specifically hopes to financially drain Roderick; this is meant to be punitive. Punishment for his alliance with Gorlois. The Aquitanian worries for the anticipated invasion of the wretched Sir Blains, with Ulfius’ backing, to follow this crippling assault.
Duke
Eldol, hero of the Knight of Long Knives, fights with a Bishop; Lady Pomponia
speaks with Duke Ulfius, promising gold and gifts in exchange for military
support in their war with Essex; many similar conversations, serious, light,
political and passionate, fill the halls. Buried deep within: A very stressed
Earl Roderick and Countess Ellen.
__________ Royal Reward __________
As expected word spreads: Uther demands oaths from his men once more, and will begin to receive them this evening before the feast.
Fate conspires to bring the Wolves of Logres into the feasting hall: Sir Elvorix actively tricks a man into leaving before it begins, and takes his seat. Sir Vandagild, coincidentally speaking with Prince Meliodas about wizards and spirituality, happens to find himself squatting beside the Prince as he takes his seat on the far end of a row; the Prince humbly offers the his seat, for he can find another, but the modest Aquitanian doesn't take it; he does, however, find himself in the hall, still talking, when the feasting begins; he sits on the floor. His presence with the Prince staves off any servants who might have thought to move him along. Sir Uhtred simply intimidates some lesser knights from Clarence: “Get out of my way!”
They do.
Within, the hall his hot and sweaty; people are uncomfortably close. Eventually King Uther strides forth to the front, to sit in the Earl's throne. He calls forth his nobles, lesser at first, and increasing in rank to his major Barons. In this last batch, over a dozen barons kneel before him. They are:
Sir Galehaut, Baron of Castle Brown; Sir Emyr, Baron of the Castle Behind the Waters; Reverend Decius, Bishop of Corinium; Sir Ederyn, Baron of Warcastle; Sir Bassianus, Baron of Noviomagus; Sir Cadawg, Baron of Lambor; Sir Sulien, Earl of Bedegraine; Sir Roderick, Earl of Salisbury; Sir Eldol, Duke of Glevum; Sir Edaris, Duke of the Marche; Sir Lucius, Duke of the Saxon Shore; Sir Ulfius, Duke of the Vale; Sir Madoc, Prince of Logres.
Each of them presents Uther with a gift, as a show of tribute and fealty; gold and jewellery are common. Sir Galehaut's presentation brings a wave of murmurs from the crowd: A fine cloak, secured around the neck by a gold chain, and what he claims is a Dragon scale! Earl Roderick gifts another lavish cloak, trimmed with the fur of white bears from Norway. Duke Eldol gives him a wooden chalice: People, at first, think it insulting; but soon they learn it is carved from the wooden table leg he used to fight his way free of the night of long knives! Duke Ulfius brings forth chests full of strange devices, and spices from beyond the continent; as each is opened, the warm,, complex aroma washes deliciously through the crowd.
Finally, Prince Madoc steps forth: Behind him, ten men approach, and chests are placed heavily on a carpet of fine red fabric. He stands and, with a dramatic command, each is opened at once. A kaleidoscopic gleam fills the hall; each chest contain treasures from his recent raids and wars against Saxons: coins, jewels, bolts of silk and saramac, gold cloth and silver thread. The Prince unrolls a vast cloth as if a carpet; it is a battle standard taken from a dead Saxon Chief.
King Uther smiles, stands, and walks across the unfurled banner to survey the treasures. He takes various things, filling his hands with treasures, and walks throughout the hall, pressing these items into the hands of those in the hall. The Generous King gifts well, with some insight, and each one seems to impress upon he who receives it a certain aptness. Soon enough he reaches the back of the hall, where the lesser knights sit: Sir Elvorix receives a small golden ring, with intricate carvings, perhaps Saxon tribal markings. Sir Uhtred and Sir Vandagild receive lesser gifts; a silver chalice for the Aquitanian, and a silver-hilted dagger for Sir Uhtred. Sir Vandagild thanks the King, catching his eye briefly, as he moves on.
The
gifting completed, the guests start to disperse as the tables are rearranged
into a suitable feasting order, each adoring their gifts from their benevolent
King.
__________ A Magical Gift __________
Yet: At the back of the room, a large commotion emerges, bursting through the gathered knights a Herald rushes!
“Presenting the Great Wizard Merlin, the saviour of Britain” he stammers, as he is at once pushed aside by the old man in question, his great brown cloak and long beard flowing, his wooden staff clacking on the stone floor. Effortlessly, the wizard pushes aside any impedance, despite his meagre physique; Sir Vandagild’s eyes narrow. Yet Merlin has eyes only for King Uther, and it is the King he directly approaches.
“Welcome, Merlin, to these halls!” the King declares warmly; “Be’est thee always welcome in my court!”
Merlin bows slightly, thanking him. In a loud and very clear voice he replies:
"Gold and silver, clothing from distant lands, these are surely gifts worth of a King. Yet thee, Uther, surely deserve more. For, surely, none hath ever sat as highly as thee; nay, not even the Emperors of Rome! And yet; you lack one thing."
He pauses; the King frowns a little; some murmuring bubbles from the crowd…
“So great a man as thee deserveth nothing but the best, and he who would bring peace deserveth all that would he him attain it. And I, thy humble servant, am pleased to thus offer you this.”
From out of his cloak, he pulls a sword! It almost glows from within, its own internal light causes everyone to gasp in wonder!
The king is now standing, with a look of surprise and awe. Merlin takes the sword by its point, his hands covered in his cloak, and extends the pommel to the King.
“For the High King: The Sword of Victory!”
Uther takes the sword and, with a flourish, the room erupts to applause. As he admires the incredible, gleaming blade, his face a great grin, speaketh he:
“Surely, now, none can stand before me!”
Merlin nods; amid more cheers and applause and joviality.
Uther waits a moment, continuing:
“Well! Now prepared am I, I say, to visit a few friends of mine!”
He looks down and across, beyond the table, to Duke Ulfius, who laughs.
King Uther, sword still in hand, then calls the names of the recently re-sworn Lords; among them is Earl Roderick: They are to accompany him to visit King Cadwy and Duke Corneus this year.
Notably, Duke Gorlois is not on the list.
He sheaths the sword; “This is truly a cause for celebration! Bring forth the tables! And make a place for Merlin, whose wisdom and truth guide our land!”
As the room erupts into noise and talk, Sir Vandagild openly decries the influence of Merlin to those nearby:
“This is what we have come to!? Pawns to demon-spawn, influenced by the dark designs of Fae wizards and their unholy kin?!”
Prince Meliodas laughs in response, his bright voice a pleasant peal: “Careful now, that is the King you're talking about! You say that loud enough, some might take it to be treason, haha.”
He offers the warning lightly; he clearly worries not, but there is some truth in it.
Sir Vandagild is pulled aside by Elvorix, who was already near to see his friend. The Roman bids the hateful hunter to hold his tongue, for his own sake; Sir Vandagild modestly acquiesces.
Still;
his declaration clearly upset several nearby folk, and his demeanour for the
evening is soured: The scarred man’s social favour is not well for the rest of
the feast. Sir Uhtred, conversely, cuts a handsome, imposing figure: Something
in his stature and bearing delights, and his geniality benefits through the
evening.
__________ The First Feast of Sarum
__________
The Lords and Ladies of Logres take their seats; the first course is served: Roast Salmon in wine sauce. In the fragments of conversation, three names are heard with increasing frequency: Sir Edar, Sir Aran, and Sir Garnoc. A Lady turns to ask of Sir Vandagild:
“Sir Knight? Are thee not of Salisbury? What might thou tell me of these knights, whose names fill this hall?”
The Aquitanian introduces himself, and tells her this:
“Sir Edar is a fine warrior of Salisbury. I know not the others.”
“Nothing else?”
“Alas, my lady; I spend my time in the woods, training my ear to the passage of passing beasts. It is little used to the gossip of court.”
“Have ye not then heard? Word must travel faster in Clarence than in Salisbury; these are the men who found the sword!”
Sir Vandagild scoffs into his wine, swallowing hard to retort:
“Pffah! Pawns to the tricks of the Fae and their dark desires. If spake thee true, my lady, I pity those men. I think little of the blade, truly, and wish myself as far from it as possible. I suggest ye do the same. Turn thy eyes to God, I urge thee, and cast not thy ear to the words and workings of demons.”
The Lady’s face is now full of shock, and then insult; she stammers some unintelligible offense, and takes at once her leave. The rangy Sir Vandagild is grateful for the elbow room.
Sir Elvorix, in good favour with both the King and Prince Madoc, is elevated by Sir Roderick to a higher seating at the feast, and now sits near the Salt. Perhaps the Earl wishes the cunning knight to tune his ear to the whispers of high court, and thus glean some way of surviving the siege of hospitality? In any case, the Roman knight smiles, bowing with courteous thanks, and enjoys his newfound status.
Sir Uhtred finds himself beside the music, and someone thrusts a lute into his hands. He holds the thing, looking tiny by his broad chest, with some confusion. The great man sighs, a deep thing, and plucks a simple tune. He finds the essence of the tune, but does not per se impress. The song over, he is glad to rid of the thing, and returns to his ample meal.
The Aquitanian, meanwhile continues openly sharing his disdain for Merlin, and more broadly pressing others to follow their true saviour: God. Reverend Decius, the Bishop of Corinium, comes now to his side, having heard the spiritual words. The holy man gently clasps Sir Vandagild’s shoulder in greeting, crossing his chest as he approaches:
“Finally! What fine words do I hear, and from which fine knight? God’s grace to thee, Sir Knight, for blessed is the tongue that will spread the good word of the Lord!”
After some impassioned words, and honest courtesy, the holy man Blesses Sir Vandagild; “May the Lord look favourably on his finest in the troubles to come!”
“Thank thee, father; be’est I nought but a humble servant of the Lord.”
Meanwhile, warriors and courtiers alike gather around the table of Sir Edar, Aran, and Garnoc; much heed is paid to these men, and often are they asked to speak of how they sought the sword.
__________ The Ingress of Intrigue
__________
A Lady approaches Sir Vandagild; the seat beside him still empty. Lady Rhianneth, she calls herself; she approaches charmingly, flirtatiously. The well-spoken Aquitanian tells stories of joy and charm, plying well his trade of levity and venery, but nonetheless the lady soon departs. The Aquitanian, confident in his flirtation, is left confused by the matter: He does not feel rejection, but is still curious about her purpose for the unusual visit…
The keen-eyed hunter watches her walk down the hall, moving directly to Prince Madoc. She lingers there for some time; and Vandagild watches carefully: She was flirty when speaking with he, maybe a little strong for courtesy. But now, with the Prince, she is positively doting; he has her utmost attention, and she plies her charm as freely as she might. Meanwhile, behind Uhtred across the table, talk arises of Roderick's generosity. This catches his ear, but the talk soon turns to the King and his greatness, and Uhtred is forced to bite his tongue... Once more, he returns his attention to the meal, little interested in the intrigue of court.
At the high table, seated well above their normal station, Sir Edar and his companions enjoy further attention. Though people continue to inquire, Sir Vandagild is interested little in these pawns of the unseelie and unholy. Even King Uther plies them with questions! Merlin at his side, is silent; though the knights hear him not, those who try to speak with the strange man leave quickly, disappointed or confused.
Near the salt, A beautiful lady approaches Sir Elvorix: It is Lady Eleri, the wife of Sir Statirius and the late Sir Iwan's amor. She greets the familiar knight; she looks tired, strained. Some kind words and talk of small things passes brief time, for she soon tells the Roman her purpose. She wishes to be escorted back to her room; perhaps she still grieves for Sir Iwan; perhaps other things stress her gentle heart? Regardless, Sir Elvorix happily assists; he takes her safely away, and returns to the feast in time for the next course: Stuffed Boar!
__________
Once more a Lady approaches Sir Vandagild, who still eyes carefully the Prince’s pursuer across the room. This new lady is far more modest than the mysterious Rhianneth, and the Aquitanian knows her through his cousin, Sir Vandar: She is Lady Gwen, daughter of Baron Duach. Her husband, he knows, is recently departed, slain by Saxons. She is a pretty woman, and known as quite the writer. Knowing well of his fine oratory, the Lady approaches him to ask if he will read her poetry. Sir Vandagild smiles warmly, grateful for the opportunity and shared love of words. He reads it with care, and passion; it is well written work, and his skilful reading adds the right sort of energy and emotion. Nearby courtiers listen, curious for his charming accent and the beautiful words alike: They show their appreciation for the combined effort; the modest Sir Vandagild directs the credit to his companion, Lady Gwen. The cheer of it exhausted, he now thanks her, sincerely, for choosing him to read her fine work; he hopes he could do it the justice that such wonderful work deserves. He openly toasts her work and skill to the gathered nobles. She blushes, and thanks him for their time together. As she leaves, she looks back, smiles, and continues. The knight’s own smile takes some time to dissipate, and the heat in his heart remains a while longer. He sips his wine deeply, to maintain that warmth from her companionship.
Across the table, Uhtred’s seat stands empty, for the hulking warrior spends his time searching for military men, trying to catch rumours of upcoming campaigns and developments. Aurelius' fleet is being recommissioned, he learns; the fleet that High King Aurelius' and Duke Gorlois built to sail to Britain's aid to rid this fine land of Vortigern's tyrannical reign. Apparently a Roman Praetor, Siagrius, has approached the King of Logres to beg his aid in his war against the Franks! Malahaut, the so-called Centurion King, has turned the Praetor down, though he fashions himself a “True Roman”; as has King Idres of Cornwall.
And
yet, still curious about the strange Lady Rhianneth, Sir Vandagild continues to
cast glances her way... She continues her doting, but now he sees Prince Madoc
gesture dismissively, sternly departing her, and leaving the high table. Sir
Jarren, beside him as usual, remains; he seems confused, and lingers a little
with the Lady, but she soon leaves as well, exiting via the same door that the
Prince did. Some sense of this event strikes the Aquitanian, and he has a
fondness for the Prince. Curious, and with hints of concern, the Aquitanian
follows her.
__________ Princely Passion __________
The Earl once more takes a moment to pass by Sir Elvorix's table. He thanks the Roman for his service and efforts, for he has done good work with Gorlois, and on the battlefield. The savvy knight takes the moment to espouse his loyalty to Roderick: He is a good lord, generous and brave; three cheers for Red Bloody Roderick! The men and women around him respect him for that, and cheer along.
Down the hall, Sir Vandagild follows Rhianneth boldly; Uhtred sees something predatory in his friend’s gait, and strides after him. Out a broad door, nodding to the servant who opens it, the Aquitanian finds himself in the garden. He now approaches carefully, catching a hushed conversation with his keen ears. Rhianneth confesses her love to Prince Madoc, quite eloquently and quite well told. In response, the Prince is firm; agitated but polite, denying reciprocation; he does not see her like that. Lady Rhianneth, however, is relentless; she knows his heart, and she feels strongly her own; she continues to pressure! The hunter, Uhtred now beside him, hears another man coming from the doors; a knight. Unsurprisingly, Sir Vandagild knows him not; but he carries a sword. He looks angry, a slightly older man, and he strides directly for the Prince and Rhianneth.
"Good
evening, Sir, what has thee so flushed?" the Aquitanian asks, stepping out
to walk beside him. The man looks past him, moving around the Aquitanian
without meeting his eye: "Mind thy own business!"
Vandagild steps with him: "Any man so angry and armed, in the lands of my Lord, is my business, good Sir; tell me thy purpose, I beg of thee."
“Bah!” says the disgruntled man, marching past.
Vandagild follows, glancing his concern to Uhtred, who shrugs and settles in to his leaning against a pillar.
The Aquitanian sees Madoc and Rhianneth as they round a hedge: The Prince holds the lady in his grip, his hands around her shoulders, his face firm. Seeing this, the disgruntled knight roars in anger, draws his blade, and rushes forth to hack the Prince! Sir Vandagild is two steps behind: Though he tries to stop the man, he is too slow to get a good enough grip to hold him! He tears free, cutting hard at the Prince, but the delay is enough: Madoc, at the last moment, draws a dagger and catches the blade, barely parrying the slashing blow. Rhianneth shrieks, and hides behind the Prince!
"Unhand my wife, you dog!" the man roars!
The Prince attempts to shout back, "I have done noth-!" but the aggressor acts quickly! He cuts again, but the hunter is at his back! Sir Vandagild hits him bodily, wrestling him hard to the ground, where his blade clatters along the stone path. He writhes, twisting to look at his assailant:
“Aquitanian! Unhand me! Dog, I will slay thee both!”
His tirade continues, but he cannot free himself: He spits foul insults at his wife, and fouler at the Prince! Sir Vandagild wraps his arm, and urgently spills his view of the scenario - the Prince did nothing wrong, he tried to escape the lady’s relentless advances! Holding the man down, Vandagild continues to plead with the furious knight!
“Thy problem is not with the Prince, Sir Knight; will ye die here over thy own false presumptions? Have thee no prudence!?”
Though he writhes under the hunter’s weight, he does listen: Eventually he calms, a rapid and confused array of emotions turning over the fellow’s face.
Slowly, glancing first to the Prince, Sir Vandagild lets him up, even extending a hand. Carefully he stands, between the knight and his sword.
Madoc forgives him, at the man's request, but the Prince angry, obviously and unrepentantly.
The Knight turns to Rhianneth; "You are coming with ME."
He grabs her by the hand and hauls her away, collecting his sword, and marching boldly past the amused Sir Uhtred. The great man chuckles after the couple’s departure, seeking sweet dessert and a comfortable couch to finish his evening.
Sir
Vandagild lets them go, eyes clinging to the man’s back until he is out of
sight. He turns to checks on the Prince: His response is cold; he is fine. He
says nothing more, but leaves, jaw set firmly.
__________
Inside: A serving girl flirts with Sir Elvorix; the man engages happily, flirting with the confidence and charm of a favoured knight. The woman is no match for his masculine charm and foreign accent; they soon find a moment or three, together, in private...
And
hence Sir Vandagild returns, seeking at once the Lady Gwen. She smiles warmly,
turning with grace and composure to meet his own joy. The Aquitanian’s heart
jumps, for he is greatly impressed with the lady; her juxtaposition with the
storm of Rhianneth sings joyous songs in his soul. He asks to her more of her
work: Modestly, she recites some more of her poetry; they share gleaming eyes
and honest smiles at timely moments. Sir Vandagild too reads, to their shared
joy, and they spend the rest of the feast together, enjoying one another's
company...
__________
King Arthur Pendragon 5.2
Image from: https://medievalbritain.com/type/medieval-life/activities/medieval-horse-what-was-life-like-for-horses-in-the-middle-ages/
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