(514-03-21) Off On The Road to Exeter
Summary: Discussion and debate on the road to Exeter.
Date: March 21, 514
Related: Ghostly Festivities and others.
kamron acwel arian seren lainn 


The road south from Salisbury is long, but at least it's good. In general, three ladies and six knights (there's overlap) would involve a train of some forty people and seventy horses, but they're traveling light — fewer than twenty-five horses including pack-horses. It helps when there aren't additional hostlers, guards, or much in the way of baggage beyond arms, armor, and a few changes of clothes. It's not snowing anymore, but it's close, just barely dry enough to keep from dusting the ground with white. There are thin white clouds overhead, racing through the sky on gusting winds.

Kamron is at it again. He's been singing on and off throughout the journey, although mercifully, he has kept it quiet for the most part. Mercifully, of course, because he's horrible at it. His voice is nice enough, but he couldn't carry a tune in a brass bathtub. Still, he hums and sings something about angels in the snow. Not quite apropos of anything around them, but it would be nice… if he could carry a tune.

Thankfully, Acwel is too focused on the trip and managing the columns that he doesn't quite care that Kamron is singing, and terribly at that. He rides his charger at the pace he expects everyone else to ride their horses and while it isn't a particularly demanding pace for the horse, it certainly might put some strain to those in the back of the line, pulling his overcoat tighter about him to ward off the cold as they go.

While Acwel is too focused on his duties, Arian has been enjoying — if not mocking — the ebb and flow of Kamron's singing. Her flirty blue roan has been teasing his own rounsy with flicks of her tail and occasional nudges of her nose toward his. An energetic horse indeed, she is often skipping forward several paces only to be drawn back by her rider with a quick tug of the reins. "Easy there, Banshee… you must be kind to Dancer. He does not know how to deal with you." She grins broadly to Kamron, offering a covert wink before she glances up to Acwel, who is just a horse ahead.

Seren is much too polite to say something bad about the singing, she even manages to toss in a compliment, "Those are lovely versus to the song." And they are, she appreciates them no matter the delivery in which they come. With her handmaid accompanying her, she manages to be a trooper, both who are not as used to riding as some might be along the trip. Her own cloak is pulled around her to ward off the chill, and otherwise she remains silent.'

"No one knows how to deal with a Banshee, Lady Arian." Dancer is quite willing to step lively around the blue roan, tossing his head hard enough for Kamron to cut off his singing and see to his reins. "Easy boy." He grins a little crookedly at Arian's wink, raising his voice, "Sir Acwel… if you keep pushing the pace, I won't be able to sing so wonderfully." Several spots behind the Dinton knight, his squire sighs with relief, then blushes bright as he works to control the sumpter and charger he is leading. Kamron doesn't even look back, laughing easily, "I heard that, Newt." Most likely, he assumed it. Bowing his head to Seren, he chuckles again, "Well, some day we'll have to get someone to sing them who can do them justice then, Lady Seren."

"Isn't that the intention?" Acwel shoots back at Kamron, laughing when he holds the reins to give some pause to the horse's pace, thus leading the line easier, letting other people time to recoup and catch up with them. "Alright, we'll need someone to scout ahead," he declares, glancing over to the other riders as his horse is driven to wander more towards the side of the road. "Wine," he tells his squire, beckoning for the canteen (or what passes for such) containing the beverage. "We will set camp when the sun begins to set, sirs and dear lady sister."

"At least she hasn't learned how to keen, yet," Arian teases brightly, her dimples in full force. She pulls the mare's head back up as she attempts to nip playfully at Dancer's mane. Acwel's words draw another brillant laugh from the Lady Knight. She shakes her head. "I think we might need to ride faster, Sir Acwel… I hear he has a dirge planned next." She hears word of scouts, and pulls Banshee up a head ahead of Kam's horse. She casts a smile back toward Seren, though it is a rather shy expression for the fine Lady of Woodford. "Your brother is quite a force of nature, isn't he?"

"I am afraid my own skills do not lie in singing, I leave that to the bards while I enjoy the listening." Seren casts him a smile, though that brings her look to Arian as the two banter, but Arian's teasing of her brother brings laughter. "He can be quite determined when he wants to be. Most of the time, I think he wants to be." She looks ahead to where her brother is and gauges the setting of the sun with a more inexperienced eye. "Thank you, Acwel, I could use a break from the saddle."

Kamron laughs, "If it was that bad, you could have just asked me to stop. I'm not a monster." Gesturing forward to Acwel, he responds to Arian, "I think that Sir Acwel things that I'm already doing enough keening for the both of us." Chuckling softly, he adds, "I think that might be why Lore is at the back of the column, to try to get away from my keening." The suggestion of a scout causes Kam to glance over his shoulder, then looks to Acwel, "Do you think that there's trouble up ahead, Sir Acwel? Or should we send a couple of the squires on ahead, let them get some experience?"

"Perhaps we need to double the march, then, Lady Arian. Certainly, my ears would not survive the end of the dirge." Acwel flashes the lady knight a grin, though it is back to business as usual. He smiles gently and nods to Seren's word of thanks before considering Kamron's words, glancing to the sunset, then the road ahead of them, narrowing his gaze. "I do not think there could be, not yet, but sending the squires with a strict non-engage condition would be most appropriate. I would rather not have to explain to this young man's father," he slaps his squire on the shoulder after getting the canteen, "that he died to a wild boar or some such."

"Oh no, Sir Kamron… you are not keening at all." Arian's eyes glimmer with amusement. "Come by the Henge during the Last Day of the Harvest, and then you'll hear keening." She tugs lightly at Banshee's reins, nuzzling her hand into the blue roan's white mane. She glances over toward Acwel at his reply, and she dimples brightly. "I could stuff a bit of cloth in his mouth, Sir Acwel… maybe tie it about with rope to make sure he doesn't take it out." She flashes Kamron a look, though her gaze is impish and teasing rather than serious. She then turns her attention to Seren. "My brothers are all quite the same… not one of them lacks determination. My father is to blame for that, I'm sure."

"If it were a wild boar we could cook it over the fire." Seren muses to no one in particular, but eyes hold the amusement that lingers from the teasing between the Lord and Lady Knights. Her gloved hands hold the reins lightly, "I think our families are similar in that. Acwel is determined, but he has a good heart, I adore him."

"Is that supposed to be incentive to attend, Lady Arian, or not to?" Kamron beckons to his own squire, "Newt, go get us some rashers of boar." He lets that sit for a beat as the young man's eyes get big and bigger, and then he shakes his head, "No, no. Just scout ahead, find us a good stopping place. If you run into trouble, come on back here as fast as you can." The young man nods rapidly, pushing on ahead eagerly. Kamron reaches out slightly, "No… really. If you see anything, come on back." Newt (Jonnin de Newton) nods a little sadly, but moves to join Acwel's squire. Kam shakes his head slightly at Seren's words, "Boar are dangerous things, Lady Seren. I wouldn't want to hunt one with anything less than a boar spear. and a pack of hounds." And then he gestures back to Arian, "If you're going to gag me, the least you can do is use something softer and gentler, Lady Arian. I'm a delicate flower, after all."

"He wants something softer and gentler, Lady Arian," Acwel echoes Kamron, flashing the man a very knowing, almost mischievous smile. For all that he is determined, it seems he is in good spirits. "All right. Seren, if they come back and announce any trouble, I want you to go to the back of the column," he tells his sister, with all the concern a protective older brother can muster. "The three of us should be ready for an onslaught if Sirs Cyndeyrn, Edwyn, and Lorengel cannot catch up to us."

The Pagan Knight offers Newt a sympathetic look. Having Kamron for a knight must be rather difficult on a squire. Arian is drawn into the conversation of boars as her rounsy maintains a rather steady pace with the others. Her thighs hold her steady on the horse's back, allowing her to braid the lower half of Banshee's mane while they walk along the road. "Boars don't mind fighting back. They are a prize for the Wild Hunt though." She smirks belatedly over toward Kamron. "Delicate flower," she repeats dubiously. "I somehow doubt that, Sir Kamron. More like a thick bit of oak." Acwel's teasing words draw a sudden, and terribly impish grin on her lips. "Oh, is that what he meant, Sir Acwel?" She looks at Kamron for confirmation.

Failed.
You check your lustful at 7, you rolled 14.
Success
You check your chaste at 13, you rolled 11.

Kamron starts to shrug helplessly at Acwel, and then his brain follows the path that they laid out, and he clears his throat, glancing between Acwel and Arian a moment before he looks down, one hand rising up to pull hood a little tighter around his head to hide his reddening ears, "I would never suggest anything like that." Yeah, he's blushing a little, but he also looks out from under the fur-lined rim of his hood, a crooked little grin touching one corner of his lips. "Do you really think that I am oak, Lady Arian?"

Success
Acwel checked his temperate of 13, he rolled 1.

"I know where this is going," Acwel comments, adjusting his helmet and riding a bit ahead, giving the two lovebirds plenty of time to flirt before he rounds back into the fold. He drinks some wine from the canteen, enough to feel replenished before closing the canteen as he looks out to the field at large, watching for something. Anything, really. Just stalling to give himself time to not come back to his fellow knights kissing or something like that.

Success
Arian checked her lustful of 16, she rolled 4.

Kamron's reaction is quite satisfactory, particularly because she is certain he is blushing by his posture alone. She spares him further teasing as she continues to follow along with the knights and lady. She meets the glance he casts her way, and her smile softens. "Yes… but now you have to decide if that's a compliment." When Acwel makes his comment however, Arian pinks at her cheeks, though she lacks the comfort of the hood to hide her blush. Luckily for Acwel, there is no kissing. In fact, there is a bit more space between Banshee and Dancer. Aww, noble guilt is rather cute, isn't it?

Kamron is far too proper for Acwel to be right, at least in the short-term. The squires canter on ahead to see if there is going to be any dangerous foodstuffs in the trail ahead — or any good camping spots. Kamron watches them go, doing his best to cool his ears a little. "Of course it's a compliment. Unless you're going to say that the oak is too stiff and formal, and should learn to sway like the willow lest it be blown over in a strong wind." Arching his eyebrows, he tilts his head slightly to one side, "Is that what she was trying to say, Sir Acwel?"

"If you say it is, who am I to say otherwise, Sir Kamron?" Acwel replies, noncomittally, preferring not to get involved into that exchange right now. But he's still grinning at both, before he tells the Dinton, "You two would make for quite an entertaining pair." And, after that, he offers the canteen for the other man to take. Presumably because wine might help some matters.

"Get back here you furred menance! I'll have your hide!" Lainn shouts down the way, sounding like he's out of breath. "I'll not have you run off with my purse like some kind of burglar, you fox-eared ass!"

A cat, a slightly tubby gray tabby run frantically in front of Lainn, some yards ahead of him. Indeed the cat has a purse in his mouth, jingling with coin. From the look of Lainn's clothes, looks like he had been out hunting.

"Very wise of you, Sir Acwel… the Woodfords must be blessed in that regard." Arian tugs on Banshee's reins, drawing the horse back a few more strides before she goes dancing out ahead of the column. Perhaps this is for the best, as Banshee could have trampled over her brother as he bursts from the near by woods and into sight. She draws up her blue roan, and the horse turns about nervously at the sudden reaction from her rider. "Lainn!" The Pagan looks shocked at seeing her brother, particularly this far from Laverstock. Immediately, that strong jaw sets and her pale eyes narrow. "Did Father send you?" Then she notes the fleeing cat, and her eyes narrow even more.

Kamron chuckles at Acwel, shaking his head in amusement. He freezes a touch at the commentary on Arian and he, then shrugs helplessly and taking the canteen. "The banter is good, but I fear that My Lady Arian is — " spared from whatever description he was going to use, as Dancer proves his name, turning around in a full circle in response to the sudden arrival of the other Laverstock. "Wait… was that…" He's only met the other knight a time or two, and his confusion is evident.

"Get….that….cat!" Lainn huffs out, looking like he's going to pass out. Because who knows how long he's been running. He coughs for a moment, slowing. But the cat can't keep up it's pace either, the tubby thing starting to go down to a waddle/jog motion. "It has mother's locket! And no, father told me nothing. I didn't even know you were leaving! I just went hunting and this cat stole my pouch!"

Success
Arian checked her horsemanship of 10, she rolled 3.
Failed.
Arian checked her dex of 15, she rolled 18.

"Hunting? And why does a cat have your ruddy coin purse!" Arian huffs with complete annoyance as she turns Banshee around sharply, heeling the rounsy after the cat, breaking through the column with mild frustration. She closes the distance on the creature, and slides smoothly out of the saddle. Actually grabbing hold of the feline is a totally different story as she manages to only get a grip on the tail, but ends up almost in the dirt in the process. The Laverstock does not look terribly pleased as she tries to get back to her feet, cat at least backed against a stump.

Kamron watches the chase, shaking his head in amusement. He hands the canteen back to Acwel, resting his forearms on the front of his saddle so he can lean forward to watch the Laverstocks scramble. "No, no… you have to corner it…" He's clearly amused, nudging Dancer around to circle the chaos so that he can get behind the stump with a slow, steady advance. "Watch out, five of its six ends are pointy."

Critical Fail!
Lainn checked his dex of 14, he rolled 20.

"Because told me to take it to the metalsmith to have the chain fixed and the locket polished! I was going to take it after I was done hunting and save myself some time. I didn't expect a damn /cat/ to run off with it!" Lainn snaps back at his sister, more than winded. "I have you now, you furball." he jumps at the cat just as it escapes Arian's grasp….but he trips, his foot catching a stump, and instead careens into Arian.

Success
Arian checked her dex of 15, she rolled 13.

"You're not being helpful, Sir Kamron!" Arian winces as her brother trips, but the cat is distracted by the fumbling oaf, and thus is unsuspecting when the Laverstock woman snatches it up by its scruff. It releases a low, hissing groan at being lift off its feet by that thick bit of skin and fur. Cautiously — and thankful of her mittens — she pries the coinpurse from the sharp mouth. She turns the cat toward her, narrowing her eyes at the wicked beast. "You are lucky, you Sith Cat — " A faery cat for those who know their Welsh folklore. " — I will let release you, but do not have me catch you causing trouble around the Laverstocks again." She carries it several paces from the road, and sets it down. Chubby or not, it scampers away, hissing back at Arian before disappearing.

Kamron laughs as he watches the Laverstocks tumble, fumble, grab, and snatch. Shaking his head, he responds, "Who said anything about helping, Sir Arian?" With the 'dangerous' threat cornered, captured, and sent off, the Christian knight shakes his head, "I was just thinking how that would have been the perfect task for a squire, if only you had one."

Lainn is on the ground, sitting up. "Ugh…that is the last thing I needed today. Didn't see anything worth taking, and a cat runs off with my purse…and oh!" getting up, he eyes Arian. "My own sister thinking that I was here sent to do father's bidding by spying. Please, I have better things to do than playing babysitter. That is a title I handed in some time ago." Pausing to take in the fact that they are indeed leading horses…somewhere, he dusts off his knees. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to tell him you still have your wits about you." He shrugs at Kamron. "My fault. I should've left the locket at home. If I had, I wouldn't of bothered chasing that cat down. I'm fairly certain I'd be disowned if I lost it."

Arian narrows her eyes at her brother. She crosses her arms, considering him with those pale, sharp eyes for a long moment. Then she exhales, sinking back a bit. "If you say so, Lainn…" She glances over toward the rest of the column, particularly Kamron. She sighs, and hands out the coinpurse for her brother to take. "We are on our way to Cornwall… a mission from Earl Robert." She flares her nostrils a bit. "I told Father." She shakes her head, gesturing a bit. "We're just about to settle in at camp. You can join us before you head back to Laverstock." The reins to her blue roan are gathered up, and twisted about her mittened palm.

The pair are part of a relatively significant group, twenty-five or so horses and fifteen or so people all on the road south. Kamron stops his circling, leaning forward again to rest on the front of his saddle. He looks to Arian at her brother's querying, arching a brow and chuckling softly, "You're sure you got approval to come with us, Lady Arian? I shouldn't like your family to think you've been kidnapped. And I don't know about blame, Sir Lane, was it? I think it was absolutely worthwhile for that entertainment."

"He said nothing to me about you going off and doing this. I didn't even know you were apart of it until…well, just now." Lainn remarks, extending his hand, waiting to get the pouch back. "Apparently, I've been given the task of preparing mother's locket to look…presentable." There's a sneer on his face. "For when I give it to my eventual wife. So…taking care of this, to father that is, is his way of testing me not to mess it up. Though if I was smart, I throw the thing in the nearest river to show that I'm too incompetent to marry. But…" and it's around that point that he looks a little sad. "It was mother's. I fairly certain I'd hate myself if I did." He makes a light gesture at Kamron. "She did. If she hadn't, I would've come and drug her back by now. That is if she didn't convince me of it was a good idea and I decided to cover for her." Beat and glare at Arian, "/Like I always do/."

Now it is Kamron's turn to face Arian's wrath. She sets her jaw and crosses her arms, her hand still gripping onto her reins. "I got permission, Sir Kamron…" She then gestures to her brother, trying to maintain her exasperation. "Lainn, this is Sir Kamron de Dinton… Sir Kamron, my brother Sir Lainn de Laverstock." With the coinpurse given back to her brother, she fixes him with a sympathetic look. "You men and your disdain for marriage." She does not wither under the glare of her brother, but fixes him with a sharp, cheerful smile. "Something I will teach your wife to do."

Kamron chuckles softly, "Really? I think I would like to pay money to see someone try to drag Sir Arian much of anywhere." And then Arian turns on him, and he blinks, "Of course you did." He looks shocked, glancing around as if to see just why he's being targeted now, "I was just amused by the idea that someone could have kidnapped you without losing a finger or four." The commentary on marriage draws a laugh that is… a little less easy, perhaps a little tighter, "Well, there are benefits to the institution, of course, but the worry of being able to sustain a wife is positively murder on wrinkles and gray hair."

"I've done it before." Lainn glowers slightly at Arian. "Her only saving grace is that she's too much like me and I tend to agree with most of her ideas. So it usually works out well. Besides, I don't mind sticking it to father. Well, when he deserves anyways. We wouldn't be good children otherwise." He rolls his eyes. "Yes well, I'll be the sacrafcial goat before you, Arian. I know he hasn't mentioned it, but I'm sure it's on his mind. And I'm sure he's now in something of a rush since there's only three of us now." Yes, he should talk about his brothers with a bit more levity, but humor tends to be his way to work through stuff.

Ah, Kamron has not experienced Arian's wrath yet. No wonder he looks so surprised by her glare. The Laverstock woman has settled a bit, and she draws Banshee back toward the road. She glances behind her toward Lainn. "Are you coming along? It will secure you a meal and somewhere to sleep before you ride back home." Beat pause. "And I won't tell Father you almost like a cat get away with Mother's locket." She offers him a sympathetic smile. "We could always say a Sith got away with it, though. He would believe a faery stealing off with a valuable like that." Though their father is a rather rational man. She breathes out a sigh at the mention of marriage intentions, and her gaze passes over Kamron briefly. "Well, I have time… there's plenty of proper respectable Ladies all over Salisbury before a Lady Knight is an appealing choice."

"That is just like you, isn't it? This is leverage for that whole 'mud' thing from some time back, isn't it?" Lainn mutters. "Yes yes, fine fine, I agree to your terms." From another pouch, he picks out a wooden chess piece, a king piece, tossing it to Arian. "Kings to You." he utters, relinquishing it, seemingly against having to do it, like he's giving her a bar of gold. "And I was so starting to getting used to having it this time." He moves alongside her horse, shouldering his pack.

Kamron nods to Lainn, "It's always the eldest who get passed off first, isn't it? Luckily, in the case of both of our families, there are still main liners to distract our heads of houses before we enter the chopping block." Arian's self-deprecation causes him to chuckle, "You say that like being a Lady Knight is a problem. Who wouldn't want two squires to order around?" He's just gotten a squire for himself, and it's so wonderful to be able to hand off chores. He watches the game piece being passed off, and shrugs helplessly, arching one eyebrow in silent question.

Arian smiles triumphantly as she is passed the game piece. She palms it casually and then drops it into her own pocket before she draws Banshee along back to the road. "You're making it sound as if you would like me to find a match, Sir Kamron." She smirks ruefully. "Do you have someone in mind?" Then she swings up into her saddle, glancing back at her brother. "Come on, then…" She pulls back into the column. She keeps Banshee at a casual walk so her brother can easily keep pace. The column has started to cluster at a campsite ahead, so the walk for Lainn will be rather short.

As Kamron gives the quizical look, Lainn explains. "It's the king piece from a tafl set. Me and Arian would play it as kids. Still do when we can. Anyways, it's…it's our game. One of us does something impressive, to each other or to someone else in the other's presence and current holder of the piece can't help but admit it, they hand the piece over. A sort of 'King for the day' thing, or as I call 'Kings to You'. Arian got one over on me, and well, I sorta did help her become as cunning as she is, so I hate to admit that I'm at times impressed when she gets one over on me. Not just that, just anything that happens to impress the other. For example, the last time she gave it to me was because I convinced father that it would be in his best interests to help fund new armor for Arian." A knowing grin over at Arian. "SHe couldn't help but cough it up after that." A small chuckle. "Anyways, it's just something we've always done."

Kamron tilts his head to one side at Arian's words, "You? Oh no, Sir Arian, I was just remarking on how foolish it is to discount Lady Knights simply because they have spurs too." He's… not a spectacular liar, and there's a little too much laughter beneath his words for them to be entirely serious. The explanation from Lainn draws a nod, "Ahhh. So you're to blame for her sense of humor and willfulness then?" He moves to ride at the other side of the knight on foot, putting him between the Dinton and the Lady Knight. "You can have all the dried meat and trailbread you can eat, isn't that wonderful?"

Arian nods in agreement when Lainn begins his explanation, though she scoffs easily when he brings up her cunning and mischief. She casts a narrowed look at Lainn. "You are not the sole provider of my personality, Sir Lainn." Ooh, she's used his title. She must be serious. Though she does offer a small smirk of amusement as they continue along, nearing where the others are setting up camp. She shakes her head after a moment. "We might be eating dried meat and trailbread if we don't have game to roast tonight." She pats at Banshee's neck, and the energetic mare tosses her head happily.

"Oh yes I am. And I will take credit for it as long as I live." Lainn almost seems prideful in a humored way. "Willful? No, she had that without my influence. But it was either she learned combat from some one I didn't know, or from me. And I can only imagine the potentical headaches if she had gone with the former route. The humor? All me, I'll take accountability for it. To be perfectly fair, she's made a better knight than me. Makes me think I'm better at training than anything else."

"Oh, I never said that the humor was a good thing." Laughter fills Kamron's voice as they make their way into the little camp, with squires settling the horses in for the evening and knights and ladies settling in as well. Kam shrugs a little helplessly as he swings a leg over the side of his horse and lets himself down, "Well, there's always need for knights to train the next generation." Again, he laughs easily, "And, if you get pinned down for a marriage, to make it. I suppose you will just have to hope that Sir Trystan survives to get an heir."

That smirk remains in place as she eases her horse up with the others and dismounts. She draws the reins out, and guides Banshee toward where the horses are being kept. She pats the mare, murmuring something to her, and then she starts to unbuckle her satchels and saddle bags. "You know, Lainn… if you're not careful, that will be your new duty around Laverstock: training the younger generation." She draws up her skirts slightly, carrying her bags over toward where the camp has started to bustle. She chooses a spot for her tent and drops her gear on the plush, new spring grass. She laughs at the thought of Trystan getting married, though manages to keep her comments to herself.

"There are worse fates, I suppose." Lainn shrugs. "I'm sure I'll be shunted off to war once the winter is out, that I have no doubt about. I suppose I should at least defense myself to point of saying I'm not an invilid or such. I can get by, it's just knowing true talent when you see it. The intangibles that makes someone do well at combat. Beyond the known mesasurables." he drops his pack at the campsite. "Trystan getting married. I still try to wrap my head around that. No stranger I suppose than myself."

Kamron gives a sharp little whistle as he starts to gather saddlebags, and Newt comes trotting over, all knees and elbows. The knight passes the reins off to his squire, then grins at Arian, "He could do a lot…" and then he gestures to Lainn as the other man speaks his own thoughts. "Oh, I'm sure we'll all be allowed to raid the Saxons once summer comes." Shaking his head slightly, he gestures towards the Laverstocks alike, "Well, it is rather his duty now, isn't it? So that the rest of us can resist the siren call of marriage and childbearing?"

"We all will be," Arian comments softly at news of being shunted off to war. She lifts her gaze toward Kamron, offering him a soft smile. But then she shakes her head slightly at his comment about Trystan. "Yes… it is up to him. Though I don't think he is terribly keen either." She hesitates. "Why are all the men in Salisbury so against marriage?" She asks, what is perhaps the second time. "It is bound to make us Ladies feel downright unwanted."

"Me personally? I don't want to get married just so I can go out and die shortly after. Seems unfair." Lainn says simply. "I'm prepared to die in war, but not at the expense of leaving someone else alone. That idea bothers me more than any other reason. There's also the fact that we may end up hating each other, along with any other reason that's already been said before. A hassle, maybe? But that's my reason. But I'm also the sort that doesn't expect to live to see thirty. Some might call that fatalism, I see it more realism. And if I don't, I'll consider myself lucky and favored." He busies his hands with whittling at stick. "Come now, Arian, this isn't a one-sided thing. I'm fairly certain the feeling is mutual."

Kamron actually looks more than a little attracted to the idea of riding off to war. He bows his head slightly in response to Arian's words, "Because it means an end to romance, I think, Lady Arian." A hint of a smile touches his lips at Lainn's words, "Well, I doubt that she would be alone for long, whomever she might be." Still, he chuckles at Lainn's fatalism, "Oh, I don't know. Sir Belles, my knight, made it past fifty. I think that I can outdo him." His grin goes positively cocky at the end, "Which is why I've been staying well away from any Steepleford women."

Arian arches her brows slightly at her brother. "You've obviously not had to sit in on all the tedious conversations the Ladies of Salisbury have when you men aren't around." She offers a small grin now. "Most are down right on the brink of tears they are so ready for marriage. It isn't the most satisfactory life for some to remain with their family's house for the rest of their days." She shakes her head, and starts the process of her assembling her tent. She starts to laugh at the comment about the Steepleford, and she looks up toward Kamron dubiously.

"Trust me, I would love to be proved wrong, no denying that. But I can't go making plans about something that may never happen. Tomorrow is enough, and sometimes, a bit much." What Arian describes gets him to laugh outright. "Really? That the state of ladies of Salisbury at current? I don't think they have much to worry about. No matter how anyone feels in the matter, they'll get wed off to someone. They can't all think like that?" He does sound a little surprised by the idea of it. "But no I haven't. Can't say it's something I go out of my way to be apart of."

Kamron leans forward slightly at Arian's mention of private lady-time conversations, "Oh? Do tell?" And then his laughter returns, redoubled, "So that I can avoid the most desperate. They might want to…" he makes a disgusted face that is too extreme to be fully real, "…kiss." As his horse is led off, he picks out a section of grass and walks his saddlebags over there, setting them alongside some of the supplies unloaded from his sumpter, "Perhaps it's a question of what we have to look forward to? Knighthood is the culmination of our lives, while a good marriage is the goal they look forward to?"

"I think that there is the hope of romance there," Arian says, perhaps a touch reproachfully. "I would wed a man who romanced me properly, and was a partner in marriage." She shrugs slight, turning her focus back to her tent. She listens to the conversation, though waits on comment for a few moments while she fuses with her waxed canvas. Then she looks up at Kamron's question. "I think that is a fair way to look at it… Josette obsesses about it because that's what she is meant to do… marry fine, and help ensure the lineage of a house continues."

"To marry is to become something other than we are, natural risk-taking youth. And I don't think it is a bad thing, I am ready for it. But then, my father died early, as did my great grandfather. I'd rather have sons sooner than later, so that I might actually keep my line going…" Acwel replies after several long hours of relative silence and stoic meditation. "I made my intent of betrothal clear to a lady already. She asked me for time."

Kamron hesitates just a little, half crouched over his saddlebags, then nods slowly, "And assuming that this paragon of romance also had the approval of Sir Trystan, his own head of house, and the match makes political sense." He shrugs a little helplessly, or perhaps sadly. Acwel's return to the conversation causes him to look up, "Well, best of luck with that, Sir Acwel. I would say that you are certainly a catch for any of these young ladies who is looking for a match."

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