(514-02-01) Inspiring Bravery
Summary: After the bandit incident in the woods, Bryce returns to Baverstock Manor, where Lysanor de Dinton offers to tend his arrow wound.
Date: February 1st, in the year of Our Lord 514
Related: Happens after Pursuing Justice.
bryce lysanor 

After that brief interlude with the bandits had led to a brief skirmish, where a certain Baverstock vassal knight got his shoulder pierced by an arrow, the group of knights and the one lady in their company had split, some taking the captive archer to the Earl to face his justice, while Sir Bryce returned to his manor which happened to be not too far along, shrugging any concerned comment off with a grumbled: "It's just a scratch really." Still, even a scratch needed tending to, a truth even a Baverstock cannot deny, and so he was rather grateful that Lady Lysanor had agreed to take care of his wound, before it could start to fester. There is some strain in the way Sir Bryce dismounts, the discomfort evident in his angular features, even so only a few words of explanation are given to his uncle, the tone kept light, as Bryce states: "A few bandits were taken care of by some of the Dintons." His brown eyes shift to the Dinton lady in his company. "Lady Lysanor is kind enough to take a look at the injury I sustained." A pause, before he adds with a low grumble: "Arrow wound."

After which, Bryce proceeds past Lorcan and enters the manor proper. His squire, a not particularly striking lad going by the name of Carl, hurries to assist with taking off the tabard and ringmail, as soon as Bryce gestures for him to do so, right there in the larger room that is almost a hall, where he comes to stand beside the hearth where a fire is burning. After the armor the padding and the shirt below are removed as well, the latter especially showing traces of blood. The arrow that had penetrated the ringmail, indeed seems to have caused little more than a sound scratch, not enough to remain sticking in the flesh of Bryce's shoulder. Still, there is blood, and the risk of the wound festering should it remained untended.

Being escorted to the stately Baverstock manor, Lysanor moves swiftly on quiet steps behind her father's former squire as Bryce makes his way into the warmth inside. Being familiar with many of the locals here, especially the family itself, the young Dinton maiden greets each familiar face with a warm smile and curtsying before Lord Lorcan as the Baverstock Lord gives the man whatever explanation that needs to be passed before moving forward. This place was familiar to her, both of their families having shared feasts and the like between them both, as both manors were so very close.

Once inside, while Carl works to remove pieces of his knight's armor, Lysanor rummages through her satchels of supplies to get them in order and on hand. From what she can see of Bryce's wound now, it isn't an overly deep one, but sometimes even the most minor of cuts can prove tricky. Approaching him in a graceful and demure manner, she informs him, "You all did wonderful work out there, I thought. Though the appearance of the bedraggled children and their family, well, that was heartwrenching." Here, there is a pause, before she explains part of her procedure, "I see that it is a mere scratch, one which I will first clean out. Hopefully, infection had not settled in yet." When one of the servants brings her a wash cloth, she gently dabs it against the man's torn flesh, applying pressure to halt the bleeding for a moment.

Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 13.

Bryce checked his Forgiving at 10, he rolled 6.

Lorcan de Baverstock, the uncle that looked after the Manor, while Bryce was away squiring - with his father, late Nyles de Baverstock, already perished - offers a bow towards the lady, while a mere nod to his own head of family will do. The warmth of Lysanor's smile being echoed in his own. He will remain outside, at least at first, leaving his nephew the time to get his arrow wound seen to. An arrow wound, which, even if superficial, may look ghastly to someone not used to viewing such evidence of violence. Bryce is comparatively calm, a faint twitch of a smile offered to Lysanor as he catches her assessing gaze of the wound. "It is odd, where the care and concern for your own can take you, is it not?", he comments on her remark on the bandits and the children, his voice clear of any grudge. "Still… it seems I was the only one of ours who got injured in the process." A light shrug there, of the good shoulder. He nods to her explanation of how she will proceed, his eyes flitting down then to where Lysanor presses the cloth against the wound at his shoulder. Another twitch of a smile follows. "And I owe you my thanks for offering your help in tending to this 'scratch'."

Lysanor has had years of experience tending to the wounds of her family's own knights, not mention those of their allies and the like after each and every battle. Her own knowledge and experience goes beyond merely patching their knights up thus she is very much used to seeing this type of damage and far worse. She continues with a gentle hand, at first only dabbing at the broken skin, taking the time to rinse out her clothe between the cleansing. "Yours was a far trickier opponent, I would think. Having the advantage up there in the tree, so I would not be so hard on yourself, My Lord." Placing the dampened and blood stained cloth aside, she reaches for one of her salves, smoothing the cooling gel over the wound now. "This will help to keep your wound clean and to hurry the healing process." He has probably heard a few times in the past, perhaps even from Lysanor herself when needed to tend to his wounds. "In the end, you were able to shake the archer from the tree, with your words alone, did you not? And you definitely kept them from picking off the others who were too busy with their own opponents." Her words come out warmly, her eyes lifting to view the man to ensure that she is not aggravating this wound in any way. "You owe me nothing." She says with a gentle laugh now, "This is my duty as a woman. I assist in ways that I can."

"Aye, the advantage of hiding between the branches of a tree, while shooting arrows at me," Bryce concedes, keeping his tone low and somewhat devoid of anger. Not flinching but keeping still as he endures the treatment of his wound, but instead inclining his head in a nod, as Lysanor once again repeats words that are familiar to him, as her father's former squire. "My words were no means to lure her down," he states then, his gaze lowered, "but my honest offer to see her to our Earl's justice." There is a slight flicker in his eyes as they are raised to meet her gaze. "I am glad she did follow my suggestion." But he would have seen to administer justice by other means, had she refused. He smiles then, a true smile, and perhaps the most prononounced expression so far, when Lysanor offers her last remark on this being her duty as a woman. "I wish to express my gratitude nonetheless, as it would be poor manners, not to.", Bryce counters, a bit of warmth now showing in his own features, more than mere courtesy would demand. "I was rather surprised you wished to accompany us," he states then, after a moment. "It is rather unusual for a lady who is not trained in combat to expose herself to such a potentially dangerous situation…"

"But of course, My Lord." Lysanor says, listening to the man explain his reasons for coaxing the archer down from the trees. "Others spoke of having the archer's hand cut off, I believe, because she dared to lash out against you. At the time, I was concerned that such talk would frighten the children even more, but I do understand the necessity of ensuring that justice is served to those who break our laws." Her fingertips continue to rub the gel into his skin at his shoulder and coating the wound found there. She then retrieves a thin gauze, which she holds against the now glistening cut, before she begins the process of wrapping both his shoulder and parts of his arm in a long length of bandage, keeping the gauze in place. At times, she must gently shift his position or guide him to raise his arm so that she can more easily wound him in the clean cloth. "Your kind and generous words are always appreciated, My Lord." Her tone softening as well as she looks to be finishing up with her handiwork here. Something he says does give her pause and she considers her response, "I am used to our knights being brought home from the battlefield in such a state that that at times, I believe, that it is best to see to things before the wound worsens. My Lord Brother thought that my aid may be needed, but I am simply relieved that the mission was successful with a minor knick, that will heal soon enough."

"Indeed," Bryce agrees, after a moment of silent consideration of the proposed punishment for the archer Lysanor mentions. "Justice needs to be administered," eyes flitting to her fingers as she begins to wrap his arrow wound with the bandage. "And I am not saying I disapprove of you accompanying us… it's just that I was a little surprised, that's all." Raising his arm indeed, when encouraged to do so, before Bryce de Baverstock lowers it once again, standing as he is, before the hearth in the moderately sized gathering hall of the manor, where Lady Lysanor de Dinton is tending to his wound. "What is your own opinion, if I may be so bold as to inquire, on both your brother's wish and this mission in general?", he asks. "Will you accompany him on more of these missions? And me, should I be so fortunate to be part of them?"

Once the man's shoulder is completely bandaged, Lysanor will put a gentle bit of pressure upon the place where the wound still lingers for the time being, making certain that her wrappings were done tightly enough. "I would suggest that your wound be cleansed once more and rewrapped in a day's time. If you wish for me to see to this task, then you need only send a message for I shall be staying at our manor in Dinton for a few days before making the journey to Sarum for the wedding and tournament." Carefully and neatly, she begins to put her tools and ointments away, pausing to once more consider the young man's words. She has known Bryce for all of her life, practically, having been neighbors first and then with him living in their own manor to squire under her father. She is used to that serious cast which his expression holds, but she also knows of his warmer side. With this in mind, she intones lightly, "If it is required of me, then yes. This last task did not take us too far away from home, so my brother felt that it I would be safe with so many knights and squires around. For something more dire, perhaps, he may refuse my presence." Quieting down somewhat, looking thoughtful in the process, she decides to add, "At times, it was frightening and chaotic. But I can understand how your bravery and valor leads you to act, all of you, as knights. For there was a moment when I was inspired to forget that I was frightened and to move forward."

Bryce keeps silent at first on Lysanor's comment on the wound and its proposed treatment in the time to come, taking in her words with a pensive expression, before he gives a nod to the information of her staying at Dinton for a while, not too far away from Baverstock. "If you won't mind the trouble, I shall send for you," he states then. "Even if it is little more than a scratch." A wry twist of a smile there. "After all, I need to be in a state to compete in the tourney." Which is after all, still quite a while away. His expression shifts into a slightly more serious quality when the Dinton lady speaks of her perhaps accompanying more missions in the future. A nod is given to Cyndeyrn keeping her out of more dangerous missions. "Of course," the quiet comment, leaving Bryce's lips in an almost sigh, that expresses likewise approval and a hint of regret. It is Lysanor's next remark though that catches his attention, and lifting his gaze he studies her with attentive curiosity. "Oh?" One corner of his mouth comes up in a faint wry grin. "So our 'bravery' did inspire a bravery of your own. How curious." Another moment of silence as he considers. "Still, I'm glad. Bravery befits you, Lady Lysanor. And after all I'm not surprised to find such displayed in your person." Knowing her from at least the years of squiring at Dinton.

When she is done with applying the bandage, Bryce de Baverstock accepts his slightly bloodied shirt from his squire and puts it back on. "Tis late afternoon, my lady. Maybe you'd like some refreshment. Some food and drink, perhaps?", he offers, remembering suddenly his duties as a host, and head of the manor.

"Very well then, I will make certain that I am on the ready for your call." Lysanor says in a firm, yet pleased tone. "And yes, we couldn't have even the smallest of wounds preventing you from besting some of the most glorious knights within the realm, now can we? I must congratulate you on being chosen to participate in the grand melee and I look forward to seeing you perform well before the eyes of our King and Queen." Once her satchel is neatly packed, she attaches it to her belt, securing it in place. "Cynderyn is filled with much regret that he is unable to participate in that one, but he will certainly be there for the tourney." Hearing the soft sigh escaping the young Lord's lips, the auburn haired lady looks to him to inquire if something were the matter, but what he speaks of her new found bravery does bring a warmth to her features. "I am pleased that you think so, My Lord. I like to think that even the women behind the knights should show such bravery, with our men out on the battlefield and who knows what may happen. It is best to be prepared, even as a lady." Those words spoken, she lowers herself into a curtsey, "I'm afraid that I must pass on your kind offer, though perhaps another time, My Lord. There are still so many things which must be done before we set off to Sarum for the tournament. I am, however, grateful for your generosity."

Bryce checked his Modest at 13, he rolled 2.

There is a smile, even if a faint ghost of it now that the Baverstock's features shift into that thoughtful and considering expression they usually display. "It is an honour," Bryce answers, his gaze going distant for a moment as if he were already thinking about the challenges of the Grand Melee, even so, he is quick to add: "I believe your brother would have shown himself worthy as well, had he been chosen. There are after all some disciplines where he can still compete and prove his skill, which he will do, undoubtedly." His brows quirk upwards when Lysanor de Dinton continues about the bravery about the women behind the knights on the battlefield, and his smile shifts into a more pronounced version. "True words indeed, and well spoken at that," Bryce agrees, and seeing her curtsey, he will meet it with a courteous bow. "A pity your duties detain you, but I understand, of course.", he replies with an ease in his tone, his dark eyes meeting hers as he straightens. "I am, as I already stated, grateful for your assistance, and shall look forward to your call." Falling in beside Lysanor in a casual stroll, the Baverstock knight leads her to the door of the manor, which his squire Carl pulls open for her. "May Our Lord above watch over you, Lady Lysanor, and see you safely home to your family, and back here tomorrow."

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