|
   |
The cool and comfortable spring air begins to heat up once June hits. Even today, the sun is scorching up high that the farmers working the fields are thankful for a passing breeze which blows through the Salisbury plains. At the Dinton manor, lunch had just been served and the lone daughter of the Manor knight looks to be in high spirits as she is settled down upon a chair just outside of the manor, her hands busy with a bit of sewing to repair some of the clothing damaged from the most recent tournament, mainly the various riped and torn tunics. She is dressed far more simply now that they have returned home, no longer wearing some of her best outfits to impress the knights and ladies of various manors. Wearing a light-weight undertunic, the bliant above is of a periwinkle shade, with laces tying tightly at her sides. Rather than attempting to tame her shock of auburn hair, she wears it down to further express this feeling of relaxation. As she works, she even hums a little tune.
Failed.
You check your craft at 10, you rolled 16.
Moving at a very casual pace, Sir Caerdin de Broughton and his trusty squire lead their horses down the path towards Dinton. The squire seems to have the dubious honor of not just leading his own horse but also Caerdin's charger, which is still injured from the recent battle he had taken part in. Normally Caerdin would have returned back to Broughton with his horse, but he had to go to Sarum anyway and Dinton had that one cousin of his that was quite a hand with horses. At least that's what he remembered. It could be that he's remembered it all wrong and is now doing more harm than good, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Finally the two of them reach the manor, and he holds up a hand in greeting to Lysanor. "Cousin, well met. I hope you do not mind some unexpected company this day." Not quite unexpected as certainly some would have come ahead of them to tell tale that a knight was arriving shortly.
Cyndeyrn emerges from inside the manorhouse at some convenient moment, perhaps hearing some chatter without, or someone running in to tell them that a visitor has arrived, as in villages as small as these, any outside presence is an event of some noteworthiness. Stepping out through the great hall doors, he does not seem surprised to come right upon his sister, as she often sits and works there in better weather, enjoying the open air over being cooped up within. But seeing that they do have a visitor, and one of welcomed kind, he steps out further, pausing just briefly to touch her shoulder in some small sign of familial affection. "Oh, cousin," he will then note in an echo of Caerdin's own greeting as he catches it, even if it is directed at his sister first, seeming surprised but not unhapily so. "No, of course wo do not mind. It's been some time since you've visited and it is good to see you well. What brings you now, if anything?"
Despite the beautiful day, surrounded by the lovely vision of low rolling hills and listening to what should be the calming sounds of the River Nadder, Lysanor is far too distracted to complete her work, or at least, to do a job well done. She knows that eventually, she will need to redo all of the poor stitching, but for now she is all smiles, her sunkissed cheeks aglow even as she quietly scolds herself for missing a few stitches or three. "If you keep this up, things will never be do.." If speaking to oneself was embarrassing when all alone, she would feel even more flustered if Caerdin and his entourage of squire and horses had drawn just a little closer when she had spoken.
Instead, she discards the over-sized tunic (most likely Cyndeyrn's!), some of the stitches coming undone as it is, to step forward and greet her cousin. "Cousin Caerdin!" She exclaims, dipping into a hurried curtsey. Just then, her brother comes out to join them, when she so eagerly intones, "I am glad that you had arrived safely and in good time since after your messenger arrived." She, unfortunately, is not the cousin with the knowledge of horses, but she does step forward to examine the man's lame horse all the same with her healer's eyes! "We had just finished lunch, but there is still some stew left and a lot of wine and ale, if you would like. Come, you should sit. I'm sure that the journey was long, but thankfully the lingering aspects of spring still remain to bring comfort to what could very well be an arduous trip come summer." It would seem that the visiting Broughton will have to endure being bombarded by excited chatter before even dismounting from his horse!
Success
Caerdin checked his Temperate of 13, he rolled 6.
Caerdin glances over at Cynderyn as he steps out of the manor house, smiling and nodding. "My thanks, cousin. You look well, no, you both do. It pleases me to see you in good health, but sadly this is not a mere social call." Gesturing behind him, he points to his charger. "My horse took a pair of javelins recently, I have done what I could to aide him, but my skill in such matters is no where near the skill of others. If I recall correctly, there was a cousin of mine here who had skill with horses, yes? I would beg her aid in this matter. The beast performed valiantly as we rode down several Saxons, and I would like for him to have a chance to do it again some day."
It is then that he bows towards Lysanor, smiling as he does so. "My thanks for your offer of food and drink, cousin. Some food would be welcome, though water would be better than wine right now. My throat is a bit parched."
While Cyndeyrn will show a bit of dawning concern when Caerdin suggests his call is for less pleasant reasons, the look eases somewhat when the whole of the problem is made clear. And obviously, the animal is not so gravely injured as to be beyond hope, if it made the journey here in the first place. "Amalthea, you mean, and yes she is very good with horses. We'd be quite happy to take yours a while, and let her see what can be done. I think she might actually be excited for the opportunity; she does love our animals, but to have a 'visitor' will spice up her day a bit." He knows very well her enthusiasm for the animals. "Your squire can lead him over, if you like, and we'll have something brought out to eat and drink. The weather is getting nice enough, not to stay cooped up in the hall." The man does turn to shout something inside, so someone will know to bring it out!
"Saxons?" Is oddly the first thing which Lysanor hears, looking between her cousin and her brother now. Her eyes then stray from the horse to look her cousin over, as far as she can see, his posture looked good even up in his saddle after such a long trip. "I pray that you are not hurt." She still asks, for the signs of injury may very well be hidden. "We missed you at the wedding and tournament," she starts, already moving back towards the manor to ensure that they bring a good portion of stew and bread and the requested water. "Was your absence from Carlion due to Saxons then?" Only once the food and drink are bought out does she fully return to stand by her brother's side — the size difference between the siblings looks just as vast as Caerdin may have remembered, with the Dinton giand towering over the diminutive red-head. "Please, come have a seat." She even extends this invitation to her cousin's squire.
Ah yes, that was her name. Amalthea. Seems Caerdin needed a bit of work remembering names, but there were so many to remember and then it was easy to get lost in one's duties when he was the only male heir of the manor. He smiles. "Yes, of course, Amalthea, how rude of me to have forgotten." Another nod, and he is turning and instructing his squire to take all of the mounts to the stables, had to put the lad to use somehow and it built character to do such chores. "Indeed, it is a beautiful day, we have been blessed with excellent weather it seems."
"Indeed, a band of Saxons raided and did a little pillaging over at Manor Buckholt. I fear that my visit here will only be as long as necessary to see to my horse as I have a good deal of work ahead of me to ensure that Broughton does not suffer the same fate." Indeed not, he would die before allowing Saxons to pillage his home. He moves over to the offered seat and takes a seat, drinking down some water before saying, "I am sorry I missed the wedding and the tournament, but there is so much that needs to be done this year. Not due to Saxons alone, but as I get older my responsibilities continue to take up more and more of my time."
When his sister hustles to take over the matter of the food and drink, Cydneyrn leaves her to it, and takes up one of the chairs set out before the front of the manor. "There have been a number of attacks. I went north to Tilshead on some errand for the Earl, and the Banneret there had lost contact with one of his own manors: we found it pillaged and burnt, and the population dragged to some nearby war camp as slaves. We put an end to that number, but it had the look of the beginnings of something larger." If Saxon talk is to be the talk of the day, the serious Dinton heir seems quite ready with plenty to say on the topic. "Indeed, I was in Sarum earlier," he continues on, "Speaking with the Earl about the matter, and he does think it possible they may strike in force. I was just going to speak with you about it, sister, and was with the village headman just before, but we will need to make preparations, that our valuables are packed in trunks and all the like, in case we must withdraw with the people and livestock to Wilton. The manors thesmelves will not withstand a real army."
"Buckholt?" Lysanor tries to determine exactly how far that is. "That's near Broughton." She says, her features tense now. "Are they really hitting this closely to home." And not only that, but her brother's 'news' alarms her as well and all that she can do is nod her head slowly. "We will see that Amalthea tends to your ailing horse and will give you some provisions for your journey back. If what Cyndeyrn says is true and even you have witnessed the violence against your neighbor, I can only pray and wish you and your family well. It just worries me how far Broughton is from the rest of us." Here she frowns, trailing behind the much taller young men, "I will send word to Sir Bryce and Baverstock as well."
Caerdin swallows down a mouthful of stew and helps himself to a piece of bread as he listens to both Lysanor and Cyndeyrn talk about Saxons. Frowning, he asks, "Do you think the threat is that high? This party we ran into seemed more along the lines of a raiding party. Two of our party were grievously wounded, including my cousin Sir Quillian, but both will recover with time." He considers this as he spoons in another mouthful of soup. "I pray that it is not so, but I will begin making ready as soon as I return to Broughton, because yes, Buckholt is very near Broughton, though do not worry, we are very close to Castle Du Plain and if a threat appears, we shall go there if we must."
"Well, summer is the season for raiding, and for war if the saxon chiefs choose to make it," Cyndeyrn answers his cousin, taking up a bit of what Lysanor brings out as well, as the large man is never without an appetite. "We do not know of any impending army on our doorstep as of yet, and we will set increased patrols, so if one marches, it will be spotted well ahead of time so there is time to bring the people into the walled cities and castles. I cannot truly speak to the odds, but I do say… the camp we found near Imber, I think if we had not come upon it early, they might have dug in more, and perhaps even served as some advanced post for more. They were setting up stakes and such to defend their position, rather than just retreating with their spoils, which they likely enough had several days to do before we arrived and dispatched them." The grim details of Caerdin's own encounter are noted with a nod. "We took some bad wounds as well in our fight. The Saxons are no slouches at war, whatever else might be said of their barbaric ways."
"Then I will spend the rest of spring gathering up all of the medicinal herbs that I can and I shall head to Wilton or even Sarum for what I cannot create myself." Lysanor's tone is even and more matter-of-fact. She may not be a valorous knight like her brother or cousin, but she would not simply sit tight. Quieting down, she listens to all of this talk of Saxons and the situations the men had encountered as of recent, her mind remembering moments following the Imber expedition. "Kamron," She speaks of one of her Dinton cousins, "was in poor shape when he arrived back from that mission and was still ailing after being tended to by the Lady of the Manor and was bedridden for at least a week. Thus my brother and that particular party returned home much later than was expected."
A nod. "Indeed, we shall all have to be vigilant over the summer and pray that the Saxons are not too active. If they do take action against any manors here, then it will be up to those of us who can to deliver justice for the slain." Caerdin glances over at Lysanor, a frown creasing his features. "Has Kamron returned to good health? I shall hope and pray that he does for we will need knights of his skill to stand firm against whatever the Saxons may throw at us. In fact, it is our faith will aide us when the time comes, I am confident of that fact." God wouldn't permit a bunch of heathen Saxons from overrunning his faithful, nope.
"Gathering supplies ahead of time would be quite wise," Cyndeyrn offers in some fashion of agreement with his sister. who now also seems eager to take up her place in the effort, as much so as any of her knightly kin. "Kamron's injuries were not so terrible that he did not recover in due time, and was even able to attend the tournament, although I think he might have pushed himself a little hard to accomplish that." Here he shakes his head, perhaps as amazed as any with some of Kamron's worse moments of luck during the whole affair. "All the Dinton knights will be ready, whatever comes, as I am sure will be said of Broughton as well. We are beyond the days of a false king inviting saxons into our own lands, allowing them their treacheries and abuses. Under the High King, and Earl Robert, both Logres and Salisbury will stand strong."
Not partaking in any of the food or drink at the moment, having already eaten, Lysanor takes up her sewing again, this time her hand moving with far more agitation due to the possibility of more Saxon raids; something which they all should be used to come summer. "The tournament has not been kind to your wardrobe, brother." She says with a hint of mirth in her voice, her gaze now focusing on her stitching. "I am sure that all of the other manors are taking some precaution, but word ought spread to our neighbors, especially with the both of your recent findings."
Failed.
Caerdin checked his Stewardship of 10, he rolled 11.
Failed.
Caerdin checked his Honest of 10, he rolled 12.
Success
Caerdin checked his Deceitful of 10, he rolled 5.
"That pleases me to hear about Kamron's condition." Very much so, he didn't need to have another cousin get laid out by a Saxon as Quillian had. That would be another thing he would have to do when he returned to Sarum, check up on Quillian and see how the healers had done. The issue of enough supplies does concern him though. They might have enough to hold out until help could arrive in a timely manner but if any sort of prolonged engagement were to take place? He was not confident in the answer. "We will suffice with what we have, cousin. I am sure our supplies will hold out until aide can arrive. Our fairer cousin here does make a good point." Caerdin gestures towards Lysanor. "Word should be spread for all to be prepared."
Although it is rare to see, Cyndeyrn does smile in a bit more of a boyish way as Lysanor chides him for pulled stitches and the like. "Ah, sorry, sister." He does not make any particular excuse, even though he likely has many for all the strenuous tasks he was engaged in at the tourney, but rather does seem just a little sheepish over the extra work he has made for her! And even, for a moment, he may linger on watching her make the repairs, before glancing back and forth more actively between the two. "Well, in letting people know… I assume the Earl has had similar conversations with all of those who see him, as most of the vassals should in the course of their usual duties. I expect he may make some official announcements of it as well, should the shadow of war grow more imminent. But, I will mention it, should I run into others."
Success
You check your craft at 10, you rolled 1.
Working more fervently now to correct the errors which she had made in the midst of daydreaming earlier, Lysanor continues to listen in to the conversation to get a better grasp of what would be expected of them, but she does decide to comment regarding Kamron as his name comes up every so often, "I wish that the both of you would be able to speak to our dear cousin Kamron. I am afraid that he overtaxes himself far too often and…" Here she frowns a touch, brows furrowing, "He has been taking far too many risks. I had heard, even at the grand melee." Now that she has more time to speak, her mind clear, she looks to Caerdin again, "Is Sir Quillian still in Sarum then? Perhaps when I am there, I will see about checking up on him, though I'm sure that the Sarum healers are doing a fine job as it is." Her gaze lowered, she must confess, "It is difficult for me, sometimes, when I am unable to be there and assist with my family's and… friend's healing. But in the end, I am ever grateful that there was someone who could tend to them and bring them back to health. Cyndeyrn," Her attention now on him, "I had sent a small gift and a message of gratitude to the Lady of Imber, was it, who nursed both Kamron and…" There is a slight pause in her voice, her tone becoming more wistful when she speaks next, "Sir Bryce de Baverstock back to health after your last Saxon encounter. I felt that it was only right that I do so."
"I cannot speak for Kamron, but perhaps he feels a sense of purpose when entering combat. From time to time I know I experience such a feeling and it is hard to walk away from it." The words are meant more as an explanation than as an excuse, and Caerdin has the courtesy to offer Lysanor an apologetic smile for them. To Cyndeyrn he nods, "Of course, and perhaps I too shall spread word as I return to Broughton, though I will try not to trouble the people of Sarum." Ah yes, Sarum. "Indeed, Sir Quillian is in Sarum. Well cared for and looked after when I saw him last. I believe he may even have another scar to show off."
"Sir Bryce de Baverstock?" Caerdin asks of Lysanor, a slight smile appearing as he says the name. "I am glad to hear that he is fully recovered then." For her sake at least. Standing, he glances off in the direction of the stables. "My thanks to you both for the fine food and the water. If you will excuse me, I should go and check up the horses and see if there is anything they need of me. I shall return shortly." He gives the two a slight bow of his head before retreating towards the stables.
Talking of Kamron, Cyndeyrn cannot help but shake his head, obviously not in disagreement with his sister but an echo of her feeling and some concern on his part for their cousin. "I suppose it is naturally for family knights to struggle more to find places to prove themselves, since they have no natural-born fortunes on which to rely," he points out, acknowledging his own security, of course mirrored in Caerdin's own position as he sits there with him. It will be his sister's talk of Lady de Imber, and of the men she aided, that snaps him from this thought. "Ah yes, I had… It was most good what she did for our cousin, and for Sir Bryce." He will turn to Caerdin when he speaks in firnedly fashion, and add, perhaps unnecessarily, "He is a good friend to our family." Yet in the aftermath there is a silent pause, and he glances over at his sister, and down again at her stitchwork, before straightening again. He will bid goodbye to Caerdin first, even walking a short ways to see that he is attended at the stables as he might need, even given one of their horses to ride in place of his own if needs be, before walking back toward where Lysanor remains. "I suppose not thought of it at the time, as overly grateful the Lord and Lady Imber insisted on being, for the aid we granted them. But hers in turn was quite critical, in seeing us promptly and safely back thereafter." There is a difference in his manner now, however, and in how he looks down on her, no less fond, but uncertain.
Relieved to learn that Quillian was indeed faring well, Lysanor offers up a content smile. That is until the Baverstock Knight's name is mentioned by her cousin of all people. A very subtle flush of color tinges softly at her cheeks, but rather than make any eye contact whatsoever with Caerdin, she throws herself into her mending once more. "Yes, you remember the Baverstocks. Sir Bryce squired for our father here." And she decides to leave it at that, her fingers working quickly now, picking up the pace oddly. It is once their Broughton cousin excuses himself to check in on his horse does Lysanor's gaze finally pull away from the tunic she is working on for the moment. "I am certain that Amalthea will be here shortly." And with that, she tilts her head up so that she may look upon her brother's face when he speaks of Lord and Lady Imber. She even offers him a smile at that, before returning to her work. That uncertainty upon her brother's face is missed, with her attention so rapt in her handiwork.