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!
__________
Elvorix,
sitting Near the Salt, speaks now with Reverend Decius. They discuss the Sin of
the Feast, and the indulgence that thrives in such environments... The Roman
knight sinks deeply into conversation, listening keenly to the Bishop’s
charismatic words: Elvorix pledges a libra to the church! Moreover, he stops
drinking at once, inspired by the Bishops biblical words and fearing the Sin of
Gluttony.
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/
