Cardonaccum, The beauty of a thistle. Options

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I knew you would enjoy the picture of Rosehill. I have more of her, but as they're all film pics, not digital, I would have to go digging through my collection to find them. I had been waiting for the perfect story to put Rosehill, and she said this was it! I hope to show more of her personality in upcoming segments throughout the story.

@SubRosa: Cora is one of those folks who understand the relationship between happy employees and a healthy profit. Investing in her people, i.e. returning the oxen to the crofters, will only benefit Cardonaccum in the long run. Nice job filling in for Dee Foxy!

@Grits: Perhaps it is Edine (the older of the two) who is being the role model for Lady Cora? Either way, I was as relieved by her answer to Lady Cora's question as Cora herself! As for the sketch, Karl Urban in that movie reminds me of General Talos! Talk about perfect casting!

@BamBam: I understood what you meant about the myth and the legend. I'm just saying not to write off the myth or the legend just yet. After all, such stories have a grain of truth in them. Centaurs are just the way the first equestrians appeared to those who had never seen men ride horses (or women, for that matter). Fire-breathing dragons and giants probably were inspired by the discovery of dinosaur fossils which has been ongoing throughout human history. And I could go on, but I have a Nanowrimo write in to head off to this afternoon . . . Glad you enjoyed the pic and the sketches.

@jackcloudy: I think you hit the nail on the head regarding Onchu. Maybe not about the crusade, but definitely about the trouble he could stir up once he reaches Wayrest or Sentinel or one of the other cities around Iliac Bay. I think we all carry our own image of Talos (or Alorius, or one of the other legendary figures in TES history) in our heads. As for the scar, if you want it there, then that's what it is. I haven't pictured him with any facial scars, but that could change!

The story so far: Lady Cora has returned to Cardonaccum with several survivors from Laird's escape, including the widow Edine and the two younger sons Tevan and Konrad. Now she must tell the others of her treaty with General Talos.

****************************
Chapter Nineteen

Jannet exclaimed as I entered the great hall. “What did you do, milady? Traipse through the barnyard after the oxen?”

“You h- have no idea,” I started for the stairs leading up to the second floor.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Jannet moved remarkably fast for such an old woman, standing in front of me with her arms akimbo. “I’ll not have ye tracking that filth through my donjon!” She took me by the arm and led me to a nearby bench. “Just wait right here and I’ll bring you some hot water and towels, milady.”

I slumped back against the wall with a weary sigh. It was now late afternoon, and my early rising began to tell. After a few moments, one of the castle women brought me a mug of hot strong tea. I hunched over it, letting it warm my hands and belly. After a moment, Jannet returned, wide wooden tub on her hip and towels draped over her arm.

I managed to pull my skirts halfway to my knees as she set the tub before me. She ignored me when I tried to stop her from kneeling on the floor. I barely kept the tea from spilling as she brusquely picked up my mud-encased right foot and set it into the hot water. I put my left foot in before she could reach for it, earning a fierce glare from the old woman.

I set the mug on the bench beside me and leaned down to wipe the mud from my feet, but Jannet slapped my hand. "Never mind, milady!" Her tone brooked no argument. "I'll make certain your feet get cleaned right proper! I should have never let you go so long without a decent lady's maid!"

I submitted to her ministrations. "But I've always taken c- care of myself, Jannet," I answered with little conviction. "You know that I've refused time and time again." It was an old argument, one that Jannet often brought up when she didn't approve of my behavior as a Lady of Cardonaccum.

"Hush," she snapped quietly. "You may be a barefoot Witch, and a widow, but you are now first and foremost the Lord of Cardonaccum!" She took one of my feet out and wiped it dry. I leaned back against the stone wall and sipped at my tea, too tired to argue.

She's right, I mused to myself. I am first and foremost Lord of Cardonaccum. But I see it differently than she does. While she sees the role as being one of proper decorum and manner, I see it more as one of leadership. Without Wallace, it is now up to me to see his people - no, my people, safe through this winter. And the next. And so on, as long as I may live.

But Wallace left me barren. I had to face the truth that I had ignored since his passing. And with no heir, who will carry on after me? Who stands to inherit? Do I marry again? Who? It has to be someone that the people will accept.

Dion of Lysium? Cornel of Farrun? My mind ran through the local nobles who held steadings near Cardonaccum. Wallace insulted most of them when he refused to take a second wife from among their families. Instead he hopscotched over the Wrothgarians and chose me. Why?

“There,” Jannet looked up from her brisk toweling. “All finished.” She set my left foot on the floor and leaned back, her gnarled hands in her lap. “Shall I order dinner for milady?”

“Find Niall and Siné,” I rose to my feet, “and meet me in the study in half an hour. And please have someone from the kitchen bring me some stew and bread.”

“Yes, milady,” Jannet refused my offer of assistance and rose to her feet, tub at her waist once more. She turned and walked away, her aged body bent by the weight of the tub. I watched her go. She came with Lady Elspeth, but stayed after she died. Why did she? Jannet could have gone back to Lysium and continued serving in Dion’s family. But no, she remained here and became Wallace’s housekeeper.

Wearily I made my own way to the stairs and entered the study. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow on the panes. It’s getting late. I have to send the signal to Lieutenant Alorius soon. Else they’ll attack Cardonaccum.

Robert knocked at the open door of the study when I sopped the last of the stew with the final bite of bread. Beyond him, I could see the forms of the two captains. “Come in,” I waved them to enter. “Where are Sir Rodric and Sir Broc?”

“Sir Rodric sends word that he is on his way, milady,” Captain Padriac spoke with a slight bow. “He is not yet able to move fast, so he may be the last to arrive.”

“Very well,” I pushed the dinner tray away and sipped at my tea, now cooling. “I will wait for Sir R- Rodric. I have also requested Niall, Jannet and Siné’s attendance, as what I have to s- say affects all of us.”

Robert regarded me silently, his eyes somber. The two captains exchanged glances, but said nothing. Footsteps warned us of the approach of another person. Sir Broc entered the study, brushed past the soldiers without acknowledging their presence, and bowed flamboyantly to me. “Milady, I am here,” he proclaimed. “What do you wish of me?”

“Step over there,” I pointed at the windows. “There are still a few more people yet t- to arrive.” Just then, Niall and Jannet moved into the room, nodding respectfully at Robert and the captains as they passed the men.

“We are here, milady,” Niall bowed deeply with none of the flourish of Broc. “Siné is escorting Sir Rodric, they will be here shortly.”

“What is this meeting about?” Sir Broc demanded, turning his back to the late afternoon light. “The defense of Cardonaccum? Or how you managed to recover Sir Laird’s family?” His eyes narrowed at me. “What exactly did you do?”

“Milady will tell us in her own time!” Robert growled at the young knight. I could see the irritated flush on the big man’s cheeks.

“Of course, milady will tell us when she will,” Broc replied smoothly, not sparing a glance at the big man. “I just hope it will be soon.”

“Would now be soon enough, milady?” Sir Rodric spoke from the doorway, where he leaned on Siné’s strong shoulder. At my gesture, she led him to the chair in the center of the room and eased him into it.

I smiled fondly at the older knight. “You were right, Sir Rodric,” I answered. “You are the last to arrive.” I cast my glance around the room and rose to my feet. “Thank you all for coming. I h- have vital news for you. But first,” I turned my glance to Siné, standing behind Sir Rodric’s seat. “How is Tomsen and the rest of the wounded?”

“Tomsen will live,” Siné answered in her soft voice. “But he won’t fight again. Those wounds are too severe and disabling.” She straightened her shoulders. “As for the rest, some are in dire shape, and the others will return to fighting condition in time. I will know more after I’ve had a chance for a more thorough examination.”

“And you will have that chance, Siné,” I said. “The reason I called you here, and the rest of you,” now I glanced at each man and woman in turn, “is to tell you the t- terms of the truce I’ve established with General Talos.”

“Truce!” Broc exclaimed, stepping forward from the window. “You made a truce with that Colovian fetcher? By yourself?”

“Why not?” Rodric overrode the younger knight’s indignation. “She is the Lord, after all. And she did ask for our opinions, as any good Lord should.” His gaze turned back to me. “What are the terms of the truce?”

“As you have seen, he has returned Sir Laird’s family and most of the s- surviving men to my care,” I said, pouring myself a fresh cup of tea. “And he has agreed to immediately withdraw his t- troops southward.”

“And in return he gets - what?” Rodric’s eyes were steady on mine.

“Cardonaccum becomes an ally of his, and s- stands watch on An Sloc,” I replied. Rodric nodded to himself, approval in the lines of his mouth. “Also, a century of the Legion remains here to r- reinforce the soldiers.” He blinked.

“What?” Sir Broc’s reaction was violently explosive as he stepped toward me. Robert and Enrick leaped forward to block his advance. “We have to host a century of our enemy?”

I met Broc’s gaze. “Not we,” I kept my voice quiet. “Only the L- Lord of Cardonaccum.”

His eyes flashed. “The Lord of Cardonaccum?” he repeated. “And who may that be, milady?”

Robert glanced at me as he strong-armed Broc backwards. “Will they be stationed within the castle?” he asked.

Relieved not to have to face down Broc just yet, I nodded. “At least for the t- time being. Lieutenant Alorius may have different ideas, but for now we can put th- them up in our barracks.”

“Alongside our men?” Enrick moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Robert, effectively blocking Broc from shoving his way forward again. “The space’s a little tight as it is.”

“We’ll have to manage for a day or two,” I replied. “Some of our men will h- have to go with Dame Edine to provide support until her own men are well again,” I nodded at Siné. “That should resolve the s- space problem for now, at least.” I turned my gaze to Robert. “We’ll have to c- continue the castle on siege footing through the winter.”

“That means hot-bunking,” Robert nodded with a growl. “It’ll be a challenge.”

“We’ll figure something out, R- Robert,” I agreed. Now I turned to Siné. “How soon will Sir R- Rodric be well enough to return to his own manor?”

“As long as he travels by oxcart,” Siné responded, “he can leave on the morrow.”

“What!” Rodric exploded in mock outrage. “Ride in an oxcart! I’d rather kiss the backend of my war charger!” He turned his blue gaze on me. “Are you that anxious to get rid of me, milady?”

I’m anxious to get rid of Broc, I thought silently at him. “Not really, Sir Rodric,” I kept my voice steady. “But I think you and your wife would rather s- spend the winter months within the c- comfort of your manor. And snow is coming - the roads will be closed soon.”

Finally Broc managed to step past Robert and Enrick. “And I, milady?” The anger in his eyes belied his conciliatory tone. “Certainly you are not sending me away when you need a man at your side!”

“Sir Broc,” I stifled my sigh at his transparent ambition. “I do not need you or any other man at my side to c- carry out my duties for me. Robert Whitearm and Captain Enrick Dougal shall c- command the fighting men on my behalf, and I have Niall,” I nodded at the cadaverous man, who bowed solemnly in response, “to assist me with the castle folk. You,” I turned back to the younger knight, “really should r- return to your manor and settle in for the winter.”

Broc regarded me blackly, but remained silent. Abruptly he bowed to me, but his flourish held barely suppressed rage. He turned and stalked out of the study without another word.

Enrick and Padriac exchanged glances, then looked to Robert. He in turn, regarded Sir Rodric thoughtfully. Niall’s face remained expressionless, as always. Siné returned my gaze neutrally, but I could see indignation in Jannet’s visage.

“Well,” Sir Rodric puffed through his mustache, “there’s that.” He turned to me. “Of course we shall return to our manors, once General Talos has withdrawn fully. How soon do you expect that to happen?”

“I expect t- tomorrow,” I turned to my castellan. “Robert, please take that cloth I gave you and fly it from the eastern gate tower. Make certain it’s the eastern one, not the western. That’s the s- signal for Lieutenant Alorius to bring his century up. They’re about five miles away, so it’ll take them some time to c- come up to the gates.”

“Very well, milady,” Robert overcame his flash of surprise and bowed to me. “If you will excuse me -“

“Just one moment more, Robert,” I held up a hand, then met Captain Enrick’s gaze. “I need to know that I have your s- support in this. The men are not going to be willing to s- share their quarters with the enemy.”

“Don’t worry about it, milady,” Enrick nodded courteously to me. “Robert and I will see to it ourselves.”

Captain Padriac turned to Sir Rodric. “And I support my lord as always,” he said. “So if he agrees with milady -?”

“Of course!” Rodric rumbled. “Milady is the one who went into that lion’s den and purchased our safety and freedom. The price for it is relatively mild.” He winked at me. “Though I would prefer to stay and lend milady my support, I can do so as well from our manor. And you already have capable folk here,” his waving hand indicated the others remaining in the room. “I would be just deadweight eating you out of house and donjon!”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Nov 4 2013, 02:12 AM

[SubRosa]

no, my people, safe through this winter
There was a lovely self-admission of Cora's place in Cardonaccum. No longer is she an outsider who married in.

“Step over there,” I pointed at the windows.
Where it will all the easier to push him out...

I see Sir Broc continues to be a problem. He seems to be stepping up from simply being a lecher who wants to marry into power, to filling in the absence left by Sir Laird of questioning Cora's right to rule. At least she got rid of him for the winter. But I am afraid that banishing him to his manor is only going to give him time to stew, and plot, against her. Perhaps with the help of Onchu?

Perhaps they can put up Talos' men in the Salt Room? I wonder if in 400 years there will be a plaque on the wall that reads: "Tiber Septim slept here."

All in all that went pretty well. The people we expected to support Lady Cora did, and the one we know is trouble simply showed his colors once more. I am looking forward to seeing how Alorius seasons this pot you are brewing, and his century.

nits:
[i]I’m anxious to get rid of Broc I thought silently at him. “Not really, Sir Rodric,” I kept my voice steady. “But I think you and your wife would rather s- spend the winter months within the c- comfort of your manor. And snow is coming - the roads will be closed soon.”
Looks like an errant italics mark got left at the beginning of your sentence.

[Acadian]

The foot-washing scene said much about both women – all of it good.

‘Dion of Lysium? Cornel of Farrun? My mind ran through the local nobles who held steadings near Cardonaccum. Wallace insulted most of them when he refused to take a second wife from among their families. Instead he hopscotched over the Wrothgarians and chose me. Why?’
- - As Cora ponders the possibilities for remarriage, I believe she answered her own question. If the time comes, I expect her choice will be, like Wallace’s, an outsider.

‘Sir Broc entered the study, brushed past the soldiers without acknowledging their presence, and bowed flamboyantly to me. “Milady, I am here,” he proclaimed. “What do you wish of me?”
- - What a completely characteristic and smarmily Brocish entrance! I see Milady has the wits and tact to not exactly answer his question honestly.

“Of course!” Rodric rumbled. “Milady is the one who went into that lion’s den and purchased our safety and freedom. The price for it is relatively mild.” He winked at me. “Though I would prefer to stay and lend milady my support, I can do so as well from our manor. And you already have capable folk here,” his waving hand indicated the others remaining in the room. “I would be just deadweight eating you out of house and donjon!”
- - Another stand up and cheer moment! LadyLord Cora has done it! Honestly, ya gotta love some of these guys like Robert and Rodric. Sure, Broc and Pillsbury represent likely problems ahead, but overall, Cora is really stepping up to her role. Not too shabby for a barefoot witch.

[Grits]

I enjoyed the foot washing scene with Jannet. Cora’s thoughts filled in the meaning behind Jannet’s simple words and actions.

The meeting went well, and it made me wonder how the news of the treaty will sound to the regular folks once it works its way down the ranks. The coming winter sounds like it will bring close quarters and closed roads. This segment really brought up how the season is itself a danger.

I’m already looking forward to the next part!

[ghastley]

I'd have thought Jannet would be pleased to see her wearing something on her feet, even it was clay shoes!

Cora needs to let herself use the noble "we" when she's speaking as Lord of Cardonaccum. Third person would be better, except that Broc would seize on that and assume she's not referring to herself, and TES has made it a Khajiit thing.

Sending the knights to look after their own holdings for the winter should get rid of Broc for a while. And it will give Laird's lads a chance to grow a bit, if they can take on some responsibilities.

I look forward to finding out how Sir Rodric will make the journey, and if anything gets kissed.

[Captain Hammer]

Man, and I would have loved to have seen Sir Broc stay at Cardonaccum, with some legionaries helping themselves to his manor on a rotational duty so that Lieutenant Alorius and his men got some space on a weekly basis.

I'm still waiting for the other shoe (or is it skirt length?) to drop, but I'm glad to see more of the members of Cardonaccum accepting the truce and their new Lord. Even if it does require the time-consuming task of washing a bare-foot witch.

And for your mention of how dinosaur skeletons influenced the myths of dragons, you get this:
Biology and Dragons

I think the fire thing comes from being 100% certified Grade-A Awesome.

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Of course banishing Broc to his manor for the winter would give him the space he needs to further his own plots! But if Lady Cora didn't banish him, we wouldn't have much of a story, would we? Actually, we see why she thinks that is the best course of action later in the story. Riiight, Cardonaccum would still be standing in 400 years to boast such a plaque in the Salt Room! Actually, they renamed it the Tiber Septim Room! Thanks for the nit!

@Acadian: As I see it, Jannet fills the void in Lady Cora's life that was left when her mother died. It just seems like the culmination of a logical evolution for Jannet - originally a nanny, then a lady's maid, now a housekeeper. A mom fills all of those roles for the family (and then some). I see Jannet as a mom frustrated by the lack of children to call her own. Thanks for your endorsement of Broc's entrance! I wanted to keep his smarminess fresh in everyone's mind! We will see just how much Lady Cora, Lord of Cardonaccum, has grown into her role at, oh, about chapter 33 or so.

@Grits: I wanted the upcoming winter to be a constant presence, because it is inexorable, unlike General Talos, Sir Broc and the Pillsbury Priest. Thanks for your endorsement of my writing decisions. I enjoyed the foot-washing scene, too. Jannet really shines here.

@ghastley: I doubt that Lady Cora would ever let herself become so presumptuous as to speak of herself in the third person. After all, she comes from very humble beginnings.

@Captain Hammer: It would be nice, wouldn't it, if the legionaries would take advantage of Broc's well-appointed manor over the winter, as you suggest. But I think Lady Cora's more afraid of having that smarmy butthole in her castle all winter than of what mischief he could cook up at his manor. I loved your linky. Is it scary that I actually understand most of that long-winded comment about which dinosaur type it could really be?

To all: Sorry for the late post. I have been so wrapped up in my Nanowrimo that I lost track of the days and forgot that today is my normal posting day for Cardonaccum. I banged out over 4700 words on this project, and that brings me to over 23,000 words total. I'm happy with the way this story is going. Don't worry, Cardonaccum has nearly forty chapters written, and I still have the best part to write! Thanks to all for reading this past Nanowrimo endeavor (the first 26 chapters were written for Nanowrimo 2011).

The story so far: Lady Cora has returned to Cardonaccum and notified her knights and captains of the treaty terms. Now she has to ready the castle for the arrival of Lieutenant Alorius and his legion.

*********************
Chapter Twenty

“Lower the bridge!” Robert’s stentorian blast echoed off the stone walls of the bailey. Torchlight flickered around the castle and creaking gears filled the dusk with their complaints. The drawbridge landed on the far bank with a dull thud as the off-duty castle thistlemen and Wallace’s fighting force, what remained of them, gathered in the courtyard.

I waited on the donjon steps as the bailey gates drew open with much cursing and wooden groaning. Behind me, several castle folk murmured among themselves, waiting for the first glimpse of the approaching Legion century. Above, the red and black standard snapped in the westerly breeze, barely visible in the fading light.

Robert approached me from the gate towers. “They are at the bottom of the cliff, milady,” he announced. His blue eyes flashed a glare at the murmuring folk behind me, quelling their excitement for a moment. I nodded and moved down the steps. “You will meet them?”

“Of course,” I answered. “It is my duty as Lord of Cardonaccum.” Briefly I considered asking him to come with me. But Wallace never requested anything of Robert, only commanded. “Come with me, Robert. I’d like C- Captain Enrick on the walls - just in case.”

“Of course!” Robert nodded curtly with a final glare at the castle folk. He fell into step beside me, shortening his long stride to match mine.

As we passed through the gates, I glanced up at him. “Please think k- kindly of the castle folk. These are unusual times for them.”

“Unusual times for us fighting men,” Robert growled. “Never has Cardonaccum surrendered to the enemy before!”

“And we haven’t surrendered this time, either,” I returned, feeling a little heat rise in my cheeks. “I merely s- sought an understanding that was beneficial to both the General and myself. He did open the door, you r- recall.”

“Aye, that I do,” Robert muttered. “But not many folks know he made the first move, you see. The men are wondering if you caved in too easily once Talos showed his strength.”

“Do you?” I challenged Robert. “If you doubt me, now’s the time to say s- so!” Aware of the men watching from the walls, I didn’t hesitate in my stride, but I could tell my tone had checked him.

To his credit Robert didn’t falter either, but kept his blue gaze ahead. “The time for doubting is past,” he said finally. “I don’t know how much courage it took for you to walk alone to General Talos’s camp and confront him by yourself. I doubt I have that much!” He took a deep breath and let it out in an audible sigh. “Lord Wallace saw something in you years ago, when he chose you for his second wife. I don’t think I’ve seen all of it yet, but what I’ve seen so far is mighty impressive for such a little woman.”

We reached the far bank of the moat in silence. I looked down the steep slope and spotted the marching pennants of the Legion century winding their way up the road toward the gates. Their pace was slow, accompanied by the slow skirling of pipes.

“I wonder why they use pipes instead of drums for the march?” I wondered aloud.

Robert shrugged. “Who knows?” He considered their approach for a few minutes. “That lieutenant of Talos’s is quite the horseman.”

I followed his gaze and spotted the lead rider, seated on a chestnut stallion almost as feisty as Nightshade. The horse jibbed at the bit, swinging his hindquarters from side to side, impatient with the slow pace of the marching troops. Yet Titus sat the horse easily, as if his body melded with the stallion’s much like a centaur. I couldn’t see how he maintained control over his energetic mount, for his hands and legs remained still and motionless.

“Looks like his parade or war mount,” I remarked softly. “He loaned me his marching h- horse.”

“That little mare?” Robert exclaimed. “That was a true lady’s horse!”

“He likes Rosehill for long distances since she has a nice gait,” I replied. “After riding h- her, I can appreciate his meaning.” I nodded toward the chestnut stallion as he danced toward the precipice yet again. “Better than c- constantly fighting that much wild energy.”

“Aye, and both horse and rider would be fresh by the time they arrived to the field of battle,” Robert agreed. He turned and glanced back at the gates. “Enrick is on station, milady,” he added. “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

“I expect there will be problems between the men,” I kept my voice quiet to avoid carrying to Titus, now nearing earshot. “I am counting on you and Enrick to keep our men in line.”

“And theirs?” Robert’s brow arched in the gathering dusk.

“We’ll have to depend on Lieutenant Alorius’s good sense,” I answered. “To be honest, I rather liked him.” He’s not as cold or inscrutable as Talos. And he did show me kindness in lending me his mare.

“Then we’ll have to petition Arkay that the Legion commander has the sense we are hoping he has!” Robert muttered as the red stallion snorted and blew his way to a head-tossing halt before us. His short mane fluttered along his arched neck as he eyed us with white-rimmed dark eyes. I noticed that he had the same chiseled head as Rosehill, the same red color as she. He possessed only a single white star which gleamed softly through the dark leather bridle he wore.

“Greetings, Lady Cora,” Titus managed to bow while keeping his mount restrained. The horse pawed fiercely at the cobblestones as the legionaries clattered to a halt behind him. “Shush, Inferno.” The stallion jibbed so violently his brasses clattered and foam flew from his lips. I reached out and laid my hand on his nose, as I had done for Nightshade so long ago, yet not so long ago. “Lady -“ Titus caught his breath as Inferno snorted, then subsided beneath my palm as I blew into his nostrils. The commander’s gaze beneath his helm was wide with wonder as Inferno stood still, no longer tense or thrumming with frustrated energy.

“I see why you like to ride Rosehill on the long marches,” I murmured to Titus. “This one is quite full of h- himself.” I drew myself straighter as one of the legionaries stepped forward to take Inferno’s rein. The horse only flicked an ear at him, his attention riveted on me. “Welcome to Cardonaccum, Lieutenant Alorius. You’ve met my c- castellan, Robert Whitearm.”

“Yes, I have,” Titus dismounted with ease, running a gauntleted hand along Inferno’s neck, sleek with lather. He nodded at the legionary and reclaimed the reins. “Sir.” He gave Robert a courteous nod.

“Lieutenant,” Robert returned. He stepped aside as I turned back for the gates. Titus fell in on my right side, leading Inferno opposite.

The four of us - Robert, myself, Titus and Inferno, walked across the broad drawbridge. Behind, I could hear the troops following at a crisp march.

“We will have to picket some of your h- horses,” I said to Titus. “I hope there are not too many stallions among your Legion. Nightshade is not fond of c- competition, and it seems to me Inferno is of the s- same mind!”

“Put him next to Rosehill,” Titus responded. “She’ll put him in his place right quick. After all, she’s his mother!”

“Really?” I glanced past him at Inferno’s profile. “I thought he r- resembled her somewhat.”

“As for the Legion horses, the rest of them are mares and geldings,” Titus continued matter-of-factly. “They’ll be fine if you picket them outside your stables. Honestly, my men can camp in an out of the way corner of your bailey.”

“Nonsense!” Robert growled. “We’ve room in the barracks, as long as we hot-bunk. If your men are up to it, they can share the watch with ours.”

“Fair enough,” Titus answered. “Though I wouldn’t want to cause resentment among your men.”

“We’ve been on combat footing for the past s- sevenday, Lieutenant,” I broke in. “They were hot-bunking before Lord Wallace left to meet General T- Talos on the field.” And lost half of our fighting force there. Titus sent me a sidelong glance, but didn’t speak. He knows what we are thinking. By Arkay, he’d be thinking the same too, were he in our place! “In any c- case, our knights will be leaving soon, and taking their men with them. That should give everyone s- some breathing room.”

“Good, I’ll be certain to let my centurions know,” Titus remarked as we passed beneath the archway of the gates. “My men have been warned to be on their best behavior.”

“As have mine,” I stopped to let the stable grooms approach Inferno. “But I still expect some friction between them - after all, I’m c- certain your men are as proud as mine!” I faced Titus as he surrendered Inferno to one of the boys. When he met my gaze, I took a deep breath. “We shall h- have to be prepared for it.”

“Of course, Lady,” Titus nodded respectfully. “I expect given time things will settle down.” He jerked his head at the approaching men. “They know to keep a sharp eye out for trouble.”

I glanced up at the sky. “It’s getting late, and nearly t- time for dinner. I would like you and your s- sergeants to join me, Castellan Robert and Captain Enrick at dinner in the hall this evening.” The sergeants, weathered veterans all, shifted uneasily. “It would be best if we all got t- to know each other by face and name.”

Titus regarded me for several long breaths. “We accept your gracious invitation, Lady,” he said finally. “But give us time to get our men and animals squared away.”

“Would two hours be enough t- time?” I asked. “Your men can be fed at the s- same time as ours, as well.”

“Two hours will be adequate,” Titus nodded.

I stepped back. “Then I shall hand you over to R- Robert’s hospitality. I’m certain you will find it better than last time!”

Titus smiled. “I certainly hope so!”

I watched as the legionaries followed Robert to the barracks wing. Their horses were led away to the stables, where the grooms had set up picket lines for them. The horse-master, a bow-legged man with grizzled hair, caught my gaze and darted to stand before me. “Milady? Yon stallion can’t be put on the picket, can he?”

“Inferno?” I gazed toward the stables, where Inferno tossed his head and nearly lifted his boy off the ground. “Lieutenant Alorius said to put him next to R- Rosehill. She’s his dam, Cadric, she’ll s- settle him down.”

“Aye, milady!” Cadric knuckled his forehead and darted off. I turned and mounted the steps toward the front door of the donjon.

Within, I found pandemonium as children fought to peer through the narrow slits at the legionaries passing through the bailey. Behind them, a few of the unmarried castle women craned their necks and stood on tiptoe. I shook my head to myself. I wonder how many of these girls will be suckling babes this time next year. That’s another source of potential trouble. Best speak to Jannet about this.

I found Machara berating another hapless kitchen boy, this time for letting his knives go dull. I waited until her tirade was finished and caught her attention before she could find another victim. “I need your help t- tonight, Machara,” I said. “I’ve invited the Legion commander and his sergeants to dinner with me, Robert and Enrick. We’ll be dining in the great hall, of c- course.”

The big cook’s eyes widened. “What on Nirn shall I feed those Colovian heathens!”

“They worship the Eight, just as we do,” I admonished her firmly. She blinked, then lowered her gaze contritely. “I think r- roast beef and roasted r- root vegetables will be most welcome on this cold night,” I continued. “Along with fresh baked bread and butter, of c- course.”

“And wine, milady?” Machara’s eyes were distant, and I knew she was already planning the logistics of dinner.

“I will have Niall bring up some of the red from five years ago, as well as this h- harvest’s beer.” I drew her attention back to me with a hand on her wrist. “Do Lord Wallace proud with th- this meal, please.”

“Of course!”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Nov 12 2013, 04:25 AM

[Acadian]

“I don’t think I’ve seen all of it yet, but what I’ve seen so far is mighty impressive for such a little woman.” - - Aww, you gotta love Robert here.

A grand arrival by the Legion that, overall, is going well so far. How neat and appropriate that Rosehill is Inferno’s mom!

I find myself wanting to think good things about Lieutenant Alorius and, so far, I’m cautiously encouraged.


Nit? “I merely s- Sought an understanding that was beneficial to both the General and myself. He did open the door, you r- recall.” - - I suspect that ‘Sought’ is capitalized here due to oversight?

[ghastley]

The big cook’s eyes widened. “What on Nirn shall I feed those Colovian heathens!”

You already tried Haggis and failed. If they could survive that (and without any whiskey!) then it no longer matters what you try.

“I wonder why they use pipes instead of drums for the march?” I wondered aloud.

So they'll move along briskly and get it over as soon as possible.

[SubRosa]

creaking gears filled the dusk with their complaints.
This was a wonderful turn of phrase.

“I wonder why they use pipes instead of drums for the march?” I wondered aloud.
Maybe the dreadful racket is supposed to make their enemies quit the field without even fighting?

I enjoyed the extra detail you gave to Inferno, and both the comparison to Rosehill, and the revelation that she is his mother.

A very clever idea of Lady Cora to invite not only Lt. Alorius to dinner, but also his ncos, and her own two main soldiers. As she said, it is a good way to get everyone on the same page.

Ahh, and nothing like some good English beef and potatoes!

[Grits]

“I wonder why they use pipes instead of drums for the march?” I wondered aloud.

Robert shrugged. “Who knows?”

I love how Cora voiced her curiosity but Robert wasn’t distracted into a discussion about it. And of course the possible answers make the reader smile.

The arrival of the Legion was a delight. I felt as if I was watching more than reading it. The rush of activity inside as the kids and unattached women took a peek at the newcomers was an especially vivid touch.

Mmm, roast beef for dinner. I’m looking forward to it already.

[Captain Hammer]

So Lieutenant Alorius prefers to stick with the same bloodline of horseflesh. Nice touch, that, making Inferno the colt of Rosehill. It seems that he will continue to surprise me. I like him.

“And wine, milady?” Machara’s eyes were distant, and I knew she was already planning the logistics of dinner.

I can just imagine seeing that face. It's the same one my mother used to get when she was absentmindedly asking me what I wanted for dinner on my last night home between college semesters.

And now I'm hungry too. Thanks for that, Rider. I'm going to go rustle up some grub.

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: Yes, Inferno as Rosehill's son is logical, considering that I also owned the real Rosehill's son (one of three she had for me) and based Inferno on Nat. Unfortunately all of my best pictures of him are on film, not yet converted to digital. An oversight I intend to fix. After Nanowrimo. I think you will end up liking Lieutenant Alorius.

@ghastley: Oh, that's ghastly, ghastley! I laughed myself silly at your comments, especially about the pipes vs. drums. Never thought of it that way, but it makes sublime sense.

@SubRosa: Of course, I had to have Machara feed Acadian! Food does not get the emphasis here that it did in OHDH, but we try to make up for it in its sumptuousness. Lady Cora is not the soldier Julian was, so I doubt that she is as preoccupied with food as our hardworking pilus. And yes, that idea of Lady Cora to get everyone together over a meal is a stroke of genius.

@Grits: I took time to think of how Lady Cora would see the arrival of a whole bunch of unfamiliar men in varying degrees of hairiness would impact the castle folk. She understands all too well the appeal of men with mysterious origins.

@BamBam: I'm glad you like Lieutenant Alorius (or was it Inferno you were referring to?) And yes, my mother gets that same look too whenever I asked if a friend could stay for dinner. I hope this upcoming episode fills up your (virtual) stomach!

The story so far: The legion has arrived, and now Lady Cora is hosting the officers with her own company. We will see how they get along.

********************
Chapter Twenty-one

A sudden hush fell over the bustling hall and drew my attention from the ale flagons in Niall’s hands. At the far end, before the doors now being closed, five men in glittering mail stood close together, helms tucked neatly into the crooks of their elbows. Scarlet cloaks swirled from shoulders made wide by steel pauldrons. The hilts of arming swords rested at their right hips. Three of the men wore white armbands, while a fourth wore red on his right arm. I recognized the fifth as Lieutenant Alorius.

“This is fine, Niall,” I said to the steward, and turned from him to walk to the center of the hall. Titus spotted me and said something to his men. The five of them made their way to meet me on the clean rushes, the castle folk falling back with craning necks. “Welcome to Wallace’s hall,” I looked from legionary to legionary. Each man met my gaze squarely. The one with the red scarf nodded respectfully at me, but the others only stood stiffly. They’re uneasy. This could cause trouble. I wondered at the best way to put a soldier at ease.

“Thank you for inviting us, Lady,” Titus drew my attention back to him. He turned to the eldest of the four sergeants, the one with the red scarf. “This is Quintius Fannius, my pilus hastatus.”

Fannius bowed slightly, just enough to convey respect of my station, but not so much as to be obsequious. “Lady,” was all he said.

Titus waved toward the remaining three. “Fannius’s optio, Manius Laelius, the signifier, Aulus Numicus, and the cornicen, Vibius Memmius.”

I made certain to repeat each man’s name correctly, pronouncing each syllable slowly to prevent my stutter from surfacing. “Forgive me, I thought all of you were sergeants?”

Vibius glanced at Fannius, who gave the slightest nod. “Pardon me, Lady,” the younger man spoke softly. “We do not have sergeants in the Legion as you do among your fighting forces. But you could say our duties are similar to those of your sergeants.”

“Memmius’s grandfather was Breton, much like you,” Titus addressed the surprise I knew showed on my face. “He once served in Lainlyn as one of the fighting men of that barony.”

“Then you are familiar with Breton customs, sir?” I asked Vibius.

He shuffled his feet like a shy teenaged boy and shrugged. “Somewhat, Lady,” he said finally.

A change in the hushed murmuring of the hall alerted me to Sir Rodric’s approach. This time, Captain Padriac supported him.

“Sir Rodric, I’m glad you could join us,” I said when he stopped beside me. Quickly I performed the introductions, the Colovians first, then the knight and his captain to the others. Robert and Captain Enrick joined us before I finished, and were included in the formalities. I glanced around again, this time in vain.

“Whom are you looking for, milady?” Robert had caught my glance.

“I had requested Sir Broc to join us,” I caught his glower. “I thought it best if these Legion men knew us by s- sight and name.” I turned back to Titus. “It is my hope that by meeting like this, and getting to know each other, we may get along better in the future.”

“Well, last I saw of Sir Broc,” Rodric remarked, taking some of his own weight from Padriac’s shoulder, “he was in a very foul mood.” He met Titus’s gaze. “He’s young still, and rather impetuous. Not that it excuses any bad behavior on his part -“

“Understood,” Titus answered with a nod. “It’s a rare young man who knows how to comport himself when the battle has gone against him.”

I was not alone in considering Titus’s words. General Talos would be that rare young man? He seems much older beyond his years. And has the battle ever gone against that one? “Well, I see Niall’s giving me the s- signal,” I said finally. It was true, he had been standing in the archway leading to the dining room beyond the great hall. In his understated way he had been silently telling me that the table was now ready. “Our cook is quite fine in her skills, but t- temperamental if kept waiting. I’d suggest we go in to dinner now. Sir Broc can join us when he can.”

“Excellent idea!” Rodric exclaimed, as Padriac resumed his role as pack mule to the older knight’s bulk. “After you, milady!”

“Lieutenant,” I waved Titus to my left side, “and Castellan,” Robert to my right. “Shall we go in together?”

For the briefest of moments the two men hesitated, and I could sense their bemusement. Shall they offer me their arms? But that implies that I am subordinate to either of them. I resolved their dilemma by gathering my skirts in both hands and setting off, my head high. I may not be as beautiful or elegant as Lady Elspeth, but I won’t shame Wallace’s memory as his widow.

They fell into step beside me, and we made our way across the hall toward the dining room. About half the size of the great hall, it still was impressive in its proportions, with its corbeled ceiling and tall windows, now dark with the night outside. Chandeliers hung suspended over the long table, casting enough light for twenty guests. At each place pages stood behind the heavy chairs, ready to assist their guests. Each chair had a high back, with even taller posts jutting ceilingward, providing convenient protrusions for helms and baldrics. At the head of the table, Thistlethorn hung from the back of the lord’s chair.

Niall and his chief assistant, Gavin, drew the chair back as I approached it. I paused before taking my place before it. “Lieutenant, please sit on my left,” I gestured him toward the appropriate chair. “And Robert, on my right.” As they moved to take their seats, I directed Quintius to sit beside Robert, Enrick next to Titus. Manius sat at Enrick’s left, while Sir Rodric took his place across from the optio. Padriac and Vibius finished the left side of the table, while Aulus took the last seat on the right side, with the final chair empty, awaiting Sir Broc. Niall made a quiet suggestion to Titus, who placed his helm on the left post of his chair and hung his short blade from the right.

The legionaries followed Titus’s example. My own folk had already disposed of their weapons, long blades all of them. We stood at the table as Siné entered from a side door. She moved to the foot of the long board and folded her hands.

“I do not know your customs, Lieutenant, legionaries,” I said quietly. “But here at Cardonaccum, we s- say grace before every meal. Normally I would have the priest accompany us, but as he has left the field of c- combat, we shall have to make do with our healer. Siné, would you please speak to Arkay on our behalf?”

“Yes, milady,” Siné’s melodious voice drifted down the table. “For food where many walk Nirn in hunger, for faith where many walk Nirn in fear, for friends where many walk Nirn alone, we give you thanks, Arkay. Amen.” As we echoed her, I looked up to see Vibius glancing sidelong at the slim healer. He averted his eyes hastily when she raised her gaze to meet mine. “Enjoy your dinner, milady, gentlemen.” As she turned and left the table, I hid my smile at the young man’s discomfiture. Of course he would notice her. Siné is as beautiful as she is compassionate. But she is devoted to her calling. None of the men here at Cardonaccum have succeeded in getting her to look at them as other than patients.

“That was most appropriate,” Titus addressed me. “I do hope that we will become friends in time,” his gaze moved around the table at the others. “If it suits you, we would like to offer our own.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” I answered. “Go ahead.”

Titus met Quintius’s gaze across the table and nodded. The pilus turned his gaze downward. “Akatosh, bless us sinners as we eat our dinners. Amen.” This time I heard stifled chuckles from Enrick and Padriac as they repeated the close.

“That was very short and - ah -“ Sir Rodric tipped his head back, his eyes twinkling, “succinct.”

“Yes, quite,” I nodded to Niall and gathered my skirts as he and Gavin pulled the chair under my descending rump. On both sides of the table the pages, two to a chair, did the same for the guests. Once we were settled, Niall returned to my place with a flagon of wine and filled my goblet. Gavin accompanied him with a large flask of ale as they went around the table, offering the men a choice of either. Titus, Robert and Sir Rodric chose the wine, a dry red, while the legionaries, Enrick and Padriac selected the ale.

“To our truce,” I held up the pewter goblet once everyone was served. The others echoed my toast before sampling their drinks.

Then Titus rose his own goblet. “May truce grow into friendship.”

“Hear! Hear!” Sir Rodric was most enthusiastic. I regarded him closely, but he seemed quite sober. He met my gaze with a wink, then turned to Aulus, seated at his right, to ask him a question.

A creamy chicken and wild rice soup was served first. As I expected, it was almost hearty enough to be a stew. I watched as the Colovians savored their first taste of Machara’s divine cooking. The surprised looks on their faces told me they had not expected much of our cuisine. I shall have to be certain to tell Machara good work on this dinner. She has made a proper impression on these men.

I didn’t eat much of the main course, already full from the soup. The roast beef with root vegetables marinated in au jus was direct from the gods, perfectly seasoned with rosemary and sage. I contented myself with watching the Colovian soldiers devour every last crumb on their plates.

“Hmm, that was quite delicious,” Titus murmured as the pages cleared away the dinnerware. His gaze followed my own plate as it headed for the kitchen. “But aren’t you hungry, Lady?”

“I am not a big, fighting s- soldier like you and your men,” I answered to Robert’s sudden coughing. “I don’t need as much nourishment to sustain myself.” I sipped at the wine. “But I am glad to see all of you enjoy Machara’s c- cooking.” The red fluid swirled in the bowl of my goblet as I leaned back in the chair. “It is my hope that by having us all sit t- together, we would get to know each other. I can imagine that your men aren’t too happy at being left behind to baby-sit a minor h- holding at the back end of the north wind.” I tipped the goblet at Titus’s startled glance. “With winter coming on, no less.”

He tossed back the dregs of his wine in an attempt to recover his balance. “I’m certain that yours aren’t happy at sharing their barracks with us,” he met my gaze levelly. I regarded him thoughtfully. Out of Talos’s shadow, he is turning out to be quite the accomplished officer himself. No longer does he seem so boyish. “I appreciate your thoughts behind this dinner, Lady,” Titus continued. “But nothing you can do will force our men to respect each other, let alone get along. They will have to figure things out for themselves.”

“Of course,” I nodded my agreement. “I do not expect the men to c- claim blood brotherhood by the morn. I think it is more realistic for those of us at this table to establish a working r- relationship among ourselves. After all, it is up to the leaders to set the example for the men to follow. If they see you,” I gestured with my hand at Titus, then Robert, then each of the remaining guests at the table, “t- treating each other with decent civility, it would be more difficult for them to harbor hate and resentment for former enemies.”

Quintius cleared his throat and set his goblet down on the board. Titus nodded for him to speak. “With all due respect, Lady,” the pilus turned his dark gaze to me, “it will not be easy.”

“So noted, sir,” I replied as Niall refilled my wine. “I can not expect to fully appreciate the magnitude of the t- task before us. But if we,” again I made a circling motion to include all the guests at the table, “do not work together with respect and c- consideration for each other, it will become not difficult, but impossible, for the legionaries and the thistlemen to work together.”

The pilus nodded thoughtfully. “I see you are not flighty, Lady.” Robert shifted suddenly beside him, but I quelled him with a glance.

“I am a child of Nirn,” I said quietly. “My strength comes from the ground. Flightiness is the last word one can use to describe me.” After a sip of my wine, I set the goblet on the board. “Dessert will be a short while coming. Please, ask each other questions. Speak freely, and do not worry about offending a high-born lady, for that is not what I am.”

The men regarded each other warily for several breaths. Finally I sighed. “Let me ask a question, then.” I turned to Quintius. “I understand that as pilus, you are one of the senior leaders under Lieutenant Alorius, c- correct?”

“Yes, Lady.” Unease flickered through Quintius’s eyes.

“Then please satisfy my curiosity. Why such short swords?” I gestured toward the blade resting against the back of his chair. “Our men use longer swords, and Thistlethorn is easily twice as long as your blade. Yet people speak of the Legion with fear and r- respect.”

“Milady has never seen combat with the Legion,” Robert added. “Enrick and Padriac can enlighten her as to how effective the Legion’s use of the short sword is, but they can not explain the why.” I smiled at the sly glance he sent me. “And knowing milady as I do, the why is the answer she seeks.”

“This,” Quintius reached over his shoulder and drew the short sword from its scabbard. Ignoring the sudden tension around the table, he took it by the leaf-shaped blade and extended the leather-wrapped hilt to me, “is the gladius.”

I hesitated, but with his unspoken encouragement I took the hilt in my right hand. Unlike Thistlethorn, it was surprisingly light. Its double-edged blade gleamed in the light from the chandeliers as I examined it closely. “Gladius?” I repeated.

“The legionaries are trained for close-quarter combat,” Quintius explained. Silently I returned the blade to him. He sheathed the gladius before continuing with a lecture of close quarter combat techniques. Enrick and Padriac volunteered their own experiences on the receiving end of Legion tactics. Listening to their discussion, I realized why Wallace had lost to them, my husband who had successfully held off raiders and neighboring nobles seeking to annex Cardonaccum to their lands. I managed to submerge my grief with my fascination for their military talk.

All too soon, pages brought in the dessert - candied apples and wine-poached pears. Each small plate also held a slice of gingerbread. Cups of strong tea were set at each place. The legionaries regarded the fruit with suspicion, but when Titus took the first bite and rolled his eyes in appreciation, they began sampling their servings.

“Lady, we’ve never had anything so fine,” Titus remarked after a sip of the strong tea.

“When Machara has more notice,” I answered, cutting a piece of pear and wiping up some of the poaching juice with it, “she outdoes h- herself with pastries. Perhaps another time she’ll give you the chance to s- sample her best work.”

“Too many sweets spoil fighting men,” Rodric shook his finger at me.

I leaned my chin on my hand. “But the mule works more happily for the c- carrot than he does for the stick.” Coughing around the table caused Rodric to grin widely at me.

“Too many carrots will make the mule fat,” Quintius mock-growled around a mouthful of apple. Rodric clapped his shoulder heartily.

“Then the mule will just have to work harder,” Enrick countered, catching the last crumb of gingerbread. This time chuckles replaced the coughing. Robert caught my gaze and gave me a slow nod. Whatever you’re trying to do, it seems to be working, he appeared to say.

“Lady,” Titus raised his tea cup to me, “it seems to me that we are not so resentful of being separated from the Legion after all!”

A loud bang stopped my response. I looked down the table toward the archway leading into the hall. A form stumbled into the pool of light cast by the chandeliers, sword in hand.

“‘ello, gentsh! Milady, have ye shtarrted w’ out me?” It was a very drunken Broc.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Nov 17 2013, 10:57 PM

[Acadian]

A big episode and a big meal! I'm with Lady Cora - the thick chicken and rice soup (with some wine) sounded superbly filling. But she's right that those around her likely have pretty big appetites.

‘I made certain to repeat each man’s name correctly, pronouncing each syllable slowly to prevent my stutter from surfacing.' - - Very clever, for the technique will surely aid in remembering all the new names as well!

I enjoyed the reality of praising the short blade (and shield) for close-in formation combat that has helped successfully propel the Legion across so much of Tamriel.

Gee, all things considered, this went pretty smoothly. Well, uh oh. . . here comes Broc.

[ghastley]

Feeding the reader is always welcome, but at this rate we'll be getting obese!

Acadian already hit the points I was going to comment on. It's interesting that you point out the short sword as a close-combat team weapon, at the same time as SunRosa's turning her villagers into the same kind of outfit. Are you two conspiring?

[SubRosa]

Alorius' men have some good, solid Latin names. I see he brought all the important people, from the centurion down. I liked Cora's stumbling over their titles compared to Breton sergeants.

Vibius Memmius once serving in Lainlyn was a nice touch of weaving game lore into the story.

I also liked how Cora pondered on how Talos might take being the loser. I expect that he would not take it very well. He might not force choke people like Darth Vader, but I expect there would at least be a tantrum, and lots of broken furniture.

That was a wonderful conundrum on etiquette and position faced by Lady Cora when it came time to actually walk into the dining hall. Deftly averted by gathering up her skirts.

Likewise, very clever seating arrangements. She had mixed them all up, so that they cannot form the obvious cliques the table, and only talk to the people they already know.

It looks like the legionaries were expecting more haggis, and perhaps laverbread! What a pleasant surprise for them.

A nice nod to the capability of the short sword. RPGs so often underrate it, and just see it as something that does less damage than a longer blade. But of course the reality is quite different, especially when one is standing in a dense formation of men where it is literally impossible to swing a 3 or 4 foot blade.

All in all the dinner seemed to go pretty well. Until that cliffhanger at the end of course! Here comes trouble!

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Nov 18 2013, 08:19 PM

[Colonel Mustard]

Dinner with guests, how wonderful.

It's nice to see how Cora handles these new guests, and how she's juggling the potential for hostilities with the need to make sure Legionaries are fully integrated. I enjoyed the dialogue at the feast, especially the bit about the gladius; severely underrated weapon, that.

All in all, I daresay that that little meal went very amicably and...wait...Broc?

Oh dear.

[Grits]

Yum, cream of chicken soup with rice! That was enough of a meal for me, too. Lady Cora may not be a high-born lady, but she demonstrated her considerable skills throughout the dinner. I enjoyed her banter over the poached pears.

Listening to their discussion, I realized why Wallace had lost to them, my husband who had successfully held off raiders and neighboring nobles seeking to annex Cardonaccum to their lands. I managed to submerge my grief with my fascination for their military talk.

This was my favorite moment in the update.

Yikes, a drunken Sir Broc, sword in hand. Here’s a chance for a demonstration of respect and civility, or not!

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: Yes, that was a big episode, wasn't it! In more ways than one, indeed. I'm glad you approved of dinner--Machara had you specifically in mind when she whipped this one together. I just had to put in that bit of Legion close-quarters tactics because this is what Lady Cora wanted to learn from Wallace's men. Now it's Alorius's men who get to teach her!

@ghastley: No, we are actually writing our stories independently of each other. The first twenty-five or so chapters of this story (of which this is Chapter 21) were written for Nanowrimo two years ago. I believe SubRosa is writing Seven in the moment, albeit with her usual care in crafting strong sentences to provide a solid foundation for a compelling story. Or you could just say that great minds think alike.

@SubRosa: As I was writing this two years ago, I was thinking to myself: Now I've gotta make sure this episode gets the SubRosa seal of approval for accuracy! I'm glad that the fact that I'm modeling the Legion after the historical Roman Legion comes so clear to a fellow student of military history.

@Colonel Mustard: Dinner with guests is always rife with potential for conflict. I guess that's why it's such a common feature in murder mysteries (and hence the popularity of such dinners featuring a mock murder). Yes, I wanted to make a clear point about the short sword that is so overlooked in games. It is a stabbing weapon, therefore ideal when you are glaring eyeball to eyeball with your foe. This is literally a blade you can bury to the hilt in someone, pull it out and keep going without having to engage in fancy footwork.

@Grits: I enjoyed the comments over the poached pears, too! It was at this point in the dinner that I could feel the tension beginning to thaw between the Legion men and the thistlemen. The little stray thought that you quoted is one of my favorite parts in the whole section.

@all: It seems that Broc made quite the entrance--everyone of you have remarked on his appearance. Of course our favorite Mr. Smarmy isn't going away meekly!

The story so far: Lady Cora has hosted a rather successful dinner with her thistlemen and Lieutenant Alorius's men. However, a very drunken Broc has shown up to throw a monkey wrench in the works. (I know, it's a modern phrase, but I challenge you to come up with a medieval or even Roman Empire version!)In any case, I find drunken dialogue very difficult to write, so if you think a drunk sounds differently, I beg you to enlighten me!

********************
Chapter Twenty-two

Robert and Enrick shot to their feet, the heavy chairs skidding back from the table. I too managed to rise, but found myself pinned between the table and the massive lord’s chair.

“You are late, S- Sir Broc,” I managed to put a heavy dose of censure into my voice. My hands gripped the edge of the board to keep me upright. “I would not keep my guests waiting for you.”

“Of coursh ye wouldn’t!” Broc’s highland accent became more pronounced beneath his slurring. “Milady dosh what milady wantsh, no?” His sword tip lowered to the floor, and he leaned heavily on it. “I shee ye makin’ nice w’ the man who killed yerr hush- husband.” He leered at Titus. I caught the clenching of the lieutenant’s fists on the table. Broc straightened up unsteadily and swung his blade to his shoulder, nearly overbalancing backwards.

Robert took a step toward Broc, but the younger knight stumbled sideways, managing to evade the big castellan’s charge. He reached Rodric’s chair and leaned on its back, his gaze still on Titus.

“Sir Broc!” Rodric roared, twisting around in his chair in a vain attempt to make eye contact with his junior colleague. “You’re sloshed past your eyeballs!”

“Am I?” Broc wiped his sweating face with his left forearm. “And ye’ve been drrinkin’ w’out me, my frriend.” He staggered to Robert’s chair and glanced at Rodric with drunken scorn. “I shee milady ish leadin’ you by the noesh.” He turned to me. “An’ now milady’s workin’ her Witch mashik on th’ Legion.” He bowed with less than his usual grace, nearly striking his forehead on the arm of the lord’s chair. That deadly blade wavered close to my own shoulder.

Titus rose to his feet, his men following suit, as Robert reached for Broc. I held my hands up to stop them in place. “Sir Broc,” I said quietly. “You are making a f- fool of yourself. Stop this n- nonsense now, and leave.”

He stepped back, that sword rising from his shoulder to reach for my face. I kept myself from flinching as its tip wavered mere inches from my nose. “Fool of meself?” he roared, his face turning dusky. “Ye, who bid me to foolishly follow ye into inshanity?” He swung his blade in Titus’s direction. “What’d she do to your Generrul?” A belch escaped his lips, and I nearly choked on the alcoholic fumes. “Shpread her legs for him? Think she’d do th’ shame fer ye?”

I felt the flush spread up from the round neckline of my kirtle at his words. “Sir Broc!” Anger caused my voice to crackle across the hall. His sword snapped toward me as he stiffened, startled. “You speak t- treason!” He stared at me. “Dare you challenge me?” I caught Robert’s scowling gaze and nodded curtly. “Perhaps you’ll think t- twice after you spend the night in the salt room and sober up!”

As Robert moved toward Broc, and Enrick rounded the far end of the table, the younger knight backed away, swinging his sword around him in unsteady defense. He feinted toward the two men, keeping them at a distance. I realized that they were unarmed.

In that same moment, Quintius leaped onto his seat and leaned his foot onto its back, causing the chair to topple backwards. He jumped clear to land behind Broc. As the drunken man tried to confront this new threat, Quintius neatly blocked his sword arm and twisted the sword out of his slack grip. He sprang backwards, the long sword pointing to the floor, as Robert and Enrick rushed the disarmed knight.

Broc shouted in rage as the two men easily overwhelmed him, pinning his arms to his sides and dragging him to the archway. Robert’s shouted orders to the castle thistlemen drowned him out. As several thistlemen appeared, Quintius moved along the board and tossed Broc’s sword in disgust onto the table before the empty seat beside Aulus. He turned toward the doorway and waited, spine straight, feet braced, hands behind his back. Robert said something to the thistlemen, who took Broc into their custody and disappeared.

Enrick stopped before Quintius. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Normally Sir Broc’s not this troublesome.”

“I’ve seen my share of drunks,” Quintius responded with a shrug. “A little teamwork is all it takes to resolve the problem.”

Wish it were that simple. Suddenly I realized how badly I was shaking. As Robert and Quintius returned to their chairs, the castellan’s gaze on me grew concerned. “Milady?”

I managed to sit down with some modicum of grace. “I’m all r- right,” I assured Robert. Beyond him, Quintius glanced at me from replacing his seat. Instead of taking it, he bowed to me.

“Lady, it was a fine meal,” he turned to Titus. “If you’ll excuse us, sir, we’d best be getting back and making certain the men are settled for the night.”

“Very well, Fannius,” Titus resumed his seat. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

The four legionaries clapped fists to mailed chests, then collected their helms and gladii before heading out the dining room. Rodric signaled to Padriac, who moved around the table to his side.

“If you’ll excuse me, milady,” he bowed from his seated position, “I’d best get to bed. I’ll be traveling by oxcart tomorrow and I am certain it will be more exhausting than riding my charger!” He rose as Robert and Padriac pulled the heavy chair backwards. Once again leaning on his captain, Sir Rodric made his farewells before limping out of the dining room.

I fought the temptation to give in to my anger and weariness. “I am s- sorry, Lieutenant,” I murmured as Robert returned to his seat at my right. “I cannot tell you h- how embarrassed I am by Sir Broc’s behavior.”

“Drink makes men behave in unexpected ways,” Titus responded, his eyes on the strong tea still in his cup. He swirled it and took a sip before he met my gaze. “It also makes them show their true colors.”

“So it does,” I agreed. “Sir Broc was loyal to my h- husband when he was alive, but he does not hold me with the same respect.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, Lady,” Titus lowered his gaze to the board. “It appears to me that Sir Broc sees you as little more than a tramp.” He held up his hand placatingly at Robert’s growl. “I know, that was out of bounds, and I apologize.”

“It’s not the first t- time I’ve been accused of that,” I said wearily, laying my hand on Robert’s wrist. The big castellan calmed down, but continued glaring at the lean Colovian.

“This Sir Broc makes me concerned for your safety, Lady -“ Titus began. This time Robert slapped the table with his big hands, shaking me off as he shot to his feet.

“It is none of your business, Colovian!” he grated between clenched teeth. Titus remained seated, his gaze unflinching on Robert.

I leaned forward and tugged at Robert’s sleeve. “Actually, it is h- his business,” I said quietly. “One of the reasons General Talos stationed Lieutenant Alorius with me is t- to ensure I don’t lose my place as Lord of Cardonaccum. Do you r- remember?” Slowly the big man settled back down, though his scowl didn’t ease.

“Your loyalty does much to set my mind at ease, Castellan,” Titus nodded respectfully at Robert. “Do you agree that we share at least this much in common? That the Lady’s safety and her place on the seat of Cardonaccum is a priority for both of us?”

Robert cleared his throat, then finally nodded curtly. “Aye, that much is true,” he begrudged. “Though I question the motives of your General Talos.”

“That’s understandable,” Titus inclined his head again. He turned to me. “And what will you do about Sir Broc?”

“He has been told to leave t- tomorrow for his manor,” I answered. “Though as drunk as he is tonight, I wonder if he’ll be in any c- condition to head out in the morn.”

“Are you certain you want him out of your sight, Lady?” Titus asked. “After all, it is advised to keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

“True, and ordinarily I would do th- that,” I suppressed the shudder at the thought of bearing Sir Broc’s continual insinuations through the dark days of winter. “But with your men h- housed in our barracks, I fear that his behavior and words may incite his men to stir up trouble.” I shook my head. “It would only end badly.”

Titus was silent for several moments. “But back in his manor, what’s to stop him from plotting against you?”

“Nothing, really,” I leaned back wearily in the chair and sipped the tea, now cooling. “We shall need t- to be prepared for action from that quarter.” I met Titus’s gaze. “He has a younger brother that Wallace wanted to place in ch- charge of that manor. But Tywin is too young for knighthood. He hasn’t even begun squire t- training yet.”

“What Sir Broc said to you tonight was treason,” Titus would not let it go. “That is a punishable crime, at least in the Colovian Estates.”

“As it is here,” I answered. “But he was drunk when he said those th- things. Never has he been so blatant when he was sober. I’d rather wait until he condemns himself through s- sober, overt action before I punish him.”

“And after tonight,” Robert added, “we know just how he really feels about milady sitting in milord’s seat. We’ll watch him all the closer for it.”

“Very well,” Titus drained the last of his strong tea. “Both of you know Sir Broc better than I do. All I see is a foolish young man who is desirous of your body, Lady, as well as all that comes with it.” Again Robert growled at him, again Titus waved a placating hand.

“Robert,” I admonished him gently. “You know I appreciate h- honesty above all else.” I turned back to Titus. “And I do appreciate your honesty, Lieutenant, though it may be blunt at times.”

“And I appreciate the same from you, Lady, and you, Castellan.” Titus shifted to rise, but I put my hand out to him.

“I’d like a little more of your t- time, Lieutenant, if you don’t mind.” When he sat back, I turned to Robert. “Please excuse us. The things I wish to discuss are best k- kept between the Lieutenant and myself for the moment.”

“Milady,” Robert began his protest. “You shouldn’t be alone with -“

“Did I not tell you to hold me in the same r- regard that you once held Lord Wallace?” I kept my tone soft, but he flinched at my reminder.

“Of course,” he replied. “But it’s difficult, after that so-called knight insulted you -.” His voice trailed away.

“Worry about it no more,” I assured him. “Go, please.”

I waited until Robert had left the room before turning to the shadows behind me. “Niall, Gavin?”

“Yes, milady,” Niall appeared at my side. “Do you wish to leave the table?”

“Yes, please,” I answered, irritated at my inability to depart the board without assistance. I have to replace this lord’s chair. As they drew the chair back, two other pages did the same for Titus. “Lieutenant, let’s t- take our wine and sit beside the fire,” I gestured toward the hearth behind me. “This way the folk can c- clear away the dishes and leave us in privacy.”

Niall understood the implicit command and had the pages clear away the remains of dinner very quickly. Titus and I sat in silence, facing each other across the small table beside the flickering flames. As the folk departed the room, Titus met my gaze.

“There is something I am wondering about, Lady,” he began slowly. “But it may be too personal for you to answer.”

“It won’t hurt to ask,” I answered, cradling the goblet in my palms.

“I understand that when Lady Elspeth passed away, several of the local nobles tried to interest Lord Wallace in their daughters. Instead he went across the mountains and chose you. Why?”

I avoided Titus’s gaze, swirling the wine in my goblet as I struggled to gather my whirling emotions under tighter control.

“I’m sorry, Lady,” Titus’s soft voice held contrition. “I can see that you miss your husband terribly.”

I met the lieutenant’s gaze. “It is something I’ve wondered, myself.” I said finally. “I’m not beautiful like h- his first wife. I have no magicka to c- call my own.” I caught his frown. “My strength c- comes from Nirn. I can tell you this since General T- Talos seems to know it already.” I pulled up the hem of my skirts to reveal my bare feet. “As long as my feet are in contact with Nirn, I can withstand magic directed against me, and I r- remain strong and healthy.”

“But we’re on a stone floor,” Titus’s voice held bemusement. “And the upstairs is wooden, I believe.”

“Stone and wood contain the energy of Nirn,” I answered. “They have been merely shaped by mortal hands, not altered or processed. Wool, leather, even paper all have had the power leached out of them.”

“So when you rode Rosehill -“ Titus was still struggling to understand my strength and weakness.

“The strength of Nirn is great indeed,” I said. “It is slow to wane, and slow to renew. The time I rode R- Rosehill was not long enough to make me significantly ill.”

“How many here know of this?” Titus waved his hand vaguely, indicating the donjon and the bailey beyond.

“Just about everyone,” I answered. “When I first came h- here, one of the women insisted I wear shoes. I was young, and anxious to make a good impression, so I let her have h- her way. I grew very ill over the period of a few months.” I looked down at the goblet. “It was Lord Wallace who understood the s- source of my illness, and he made me swear never to wear shoes again.”

“No wonder you loved him so,” Titus murmured. “Do you think to hide your grief? It shows in your eyes every time you speak of him. There are other times when you say nothing, but I can see it, so it must be when you think of him.” He turned his face to the fire. “I can not imagine what it is like for a woman to lose the man she loves.”

I considered him over the rim of my goblet. Is he married? Does he have a love back home, wherever home is for him? “Is there s- such a woman for you, Lieutenant?”

“My wife,” his voice was a whisper. “Two girls. I haven’t seen them for two years.”

“The life of a soldier is a h- hard one,” I matched his tone. “Who suffers more, the soldier torn away from his family, or the family left behind t- to wait and hope for his return?” He did not answer for several breaths. “My turn to ask you s- something, Lieutenant?”

He shook himself and met my gaze. “What is it you wish to know?”

“What sort of man is General Talos?” I held his eyes steadily. “Will he h- honor our truce, or have I made a deal with the daedra?”

Titus fell silent again, his eyes shadowed from the fire. “He is cunning,” he said finally. “He is ambitious, and will stop at nothing to gain that ambition.”

My heart sank. “What is his ambition?”

“To be Emperor of Tamriel.”

[Colonel Mustard]

“To be Emperor of Tamriel.”

Dun dun daaaa....wait, I already knew that.

As someone who has extensive experience with drunkenness, I can assure you that Broc was convincingly pished.

“You’re sloshed past your eyeballs!”

Hehe, going to have to borrow that.


Interesting that Cora wasn't more severe with Broc; after all, that was treason and while looking like a soft touch has its benefits in this situation it leaves me worried that other malcontents might think that they can get away similar deeds without much in the way of repercussion. If I'd been in her shoes (or rather, lack of them) he'd be stripped of his Knighthood and out on his arse faster than you could say 'Talos can go teach his grandmother to suck eggs'.