(514-06-20) Healing and Conversation
Summary: Cyndeyrn and Lysanor encounter Bryce after the skirmish at the East Gate and discuss the somber news and their recent battle experiences.
Date: Jun 20th, 514
Related: Happens after this.
bryce cyndeyrn lysanor 

The first onslaught of Saxons seems to have been successfully fended off, still, there are casualties, and several knights who have sustained injuries of varying extent. Bryce has come to the area at the market place where those latter cases were being tended, conveniently enough situated not too far away from the Apothecary's Shop, where a few stools and makeshift beds had been arranged beneath a canopy. After all, Landon was here and currently being treated, a process, his brother observes with a thoughtful expression. An occasional glance is shot towards the square, where there is still too much bustle as to glimpse his squire Carl, whom he had sent to retrieve Devil - that in itself challenge enough.

Two battles are fought around Sarum simultaneously; against a horde of men with rams and such who breach the east gate, and against a mounted force on the western side of the city, the latter and more mobile host having launched a number of raids and then maneuvered to cut off Wilton from Sarum, dividing the Cymri troops. But the successful defense of Wilton frees up those same reinforcements who, battered though they are, arrive in some force to Sarum later in the day, not before the battle at the gate, but to reinforce and garrison the larger city and to be ready in case some second attack is made upon the damaged eastern entry. Lord Earc leads the arriving knights, with Cyndeyrn among them, and his sister too, who had done her best assisting in Wilton and now might render aid here. Naturally, she will visit the shop where they have set up some triage, her brother for the moment accompanying her, whether for her safety in the post-battle chaos or to check if any familiar men are among the Sarum wounded. As it turns out, one is, though it may well be his sister who rushes to him first, as surely as Cyndeyrn may more steadily follow.

Even in the aftermath of the attack to the gates just west of Sarum, Lysanor has been kept busy tending to the wounded and her appearance reflects all that she's been through. Her attire is caked in mud, the fabrics already having dried from being drenched by the river. There is blood that mars her clothing from the injured whom she was tending and by now, her hair is in such a disarray, the thick braid which she wore has more than come undone. But there is little time to change into fresh clothing. So once she has done what she could for those housed in the safety of Wilton's walls, does she make the journey to Sarum proper to see what more she can do to assist. Walking at her brother's side once they enter the location where the healers have been treating the wounded, she cannot help but from, "This place is in chaos. The buildings still burn and.." She then catches sight of the Baverstock brothers and it is indeed she who takes steps to closing the distance first. "Sir Bryce," She starts, before adding in, "And Sir Landon… we have only just arrived here. Are you both alright?"

Once Landon has been bandaged, he is already about to leave, a few words exchanged with his older brother before he moves to the side to check on his gear that has been left there, while Bryce still lingers, leaning against the outer wall of the apothecary's shop, somewhat hesitant to leave as well. He looks up and notices the reinforcements, a hand raised in a wave as he spots Cyndeyrn. The smile on his angular features is about to deepen when Lysanor approaches, and the Baverstock knight pushes himself off the wall and moves to greet them. Limping ever so slightly! There are traces of blood on his maille and tabard, but it seems it is mostly from others this time, as his face sports a rather healthy complexion. "Lady Lysanor," a greeting that comes in response to her own, dark eyes flitting to Landon then who stands not too far away and offers a greeting as well. The question has Bryce ponder a brief moment, before he replies, "We are alright, Landon has just been treated… and I…" He pauses, meeting Lysanor's gaze with his own, "am waiting for the more severe cases to be treated, before someone can have a look at my own rather minor issue." Attention shifting to her brother then, as Bryce de Baverstock greets him as well. "Cyndeyrn." The flicker in his gaze evident, as he takes in the traces of blood and chaos on their attire but refrains from commenting on this observation, at least for now.

"Well, it is good to see that if you are hurt, it does not look perilously so," Cyndeyrn will declare as the two of them arrive, although his stride, despite being longer by, is slow to allow Lysanor to approach and do her ladylike magic if need be. "I have only heard a bit of the attack here, but it is concerning that they were able to breach the gate. The view outside is quite a mess, and I wonder how long it will take them to complete proper repairs. It would not be hard to attack there again, if they have any number further downriver." It is always hard with the saxons to gauge their attacks and their strength, especially when they strike in this fashion, moving men with surprising speed. "Still, it looks as if the casualties are… well, perhaps not as bad as at Wilton. And at least they were not able to get loose to do havok beyond the gates, on the population. Sir Jaradin commanded? Have you heard anything from the Earl?"

Quickly, Lysanor notices some of the blood on the man's maille, though unless she takes a closer look, it may be difficult to tell if he were bleeding or not. So, she watches his movements with keen eyes, even though it's a given that she will inquire about it all. "Your brother is doing fine then? Or better, if it may be." If Landon were doing fine, he wouldn't need the aid of a healer. There is this look of relief, however, that is plain to see on the young woman's fair features and here she asks. "You said that you were waiting your turn?" Those eyes now lift to meet the Baverstock's gaze directly, "Where have you been hurt?" Turning to her brother, she nods slowly and decides to make mention of some of the things that she, personally, had witnessed, "Fires were raging out of control there too, I did what I could to assist and to usher the wounded and frightened through Wilton's gates." This may explain her bedraggled look and dirty clothing. "We did lose several many of our knights, it was… it was a difficult time for all of us."

"It went perhaps better than in Wilton," Bryce opines towards Cyndeyrn with a bit of concern flashing in his gaze. "Still… I hate these Saxon great spears. Got knocked off my horse by one of those." A slight frown appears momentarily on his features. His gaze flits to where the more grievously wounded still resting. "I got lost in battle, lost my unit. Yes, Sir Jaradan.", this he confirms towards his friend Cyndeyrn. "Landon and Sir Elrick came to get me out of there." He smiles faintly, ponders adding more, but then Lysanor already addresses him with her impressions of Wilton - and a question. "It's the knee, this time," Bryce replies with a slight roll of his eyes. "The sprained ankle has healed fine, thanks to your help." That sprained ankle from the Grand Melee. Even so, his demeanour turns a bit sombre when casualties are mentioned.

Even as her brother, and at this point keenly aware of the implications of it, even Cyndeyrn cannot help but show a very slight hint of amusement at Bryce's 'this time', knowing very well how often the man has ended up in his sister's care, and this no doubt having much to do with their affections. Not that he will breach any such topic here! "The force near Wilton was… well, it must have been a vanguard of some kind, nearly all their so-called heorthgeneat, most of them ahorse. In truth, I am surprised we held, truly it can only be by God's grace and just retribution for their heathen depravity that we did so. But I believe we lost nearly a third of the men there." He shakes his head at the thought, that is the sort of number that will leave a mark on the county for a generation, an absence of fighting men to fill. "I am glad your brother was able to assist you. I was unhorsed as well, by one of their riders with a lance, and had to fight through a swarm of men on the ground before I was able to remount for the pursuit once they broke."

The young woman's eyes widen when she listens to Bryce's retelling of his own experience in battle, her brow then furrowing deeply. "That sounds truly frightening to be lost in such chaos. But I am glad to hear that your brother and, Sir Elrick?" She tries to remember if she had ever met a Sir Elrick, though of course, she may have seen him at some tournament or other, with many, many other knights. So placing a name to face and House proves quite the feat. It is when she is told exactly where the Baverstock's wound is that her gaze finally falls to observe his knee, it doesn't take long for her to figure which one holds the injury. "Then you should be sitting down." Noticing that the cots are all full, she then beckons towards a nearby chair, "Come and sit and I shall take a look at it." She is ever ready with her gear, especially during this season of war that is summer. Rather than dampening the already dark mood that hangs over them, she decides not to mention the fallen just yet, or those whom she at least had an inkling of knowing.

Oh, Bryce had often ended up in need of a healer's care. Not perhaps much of a surprise, given his less imposing physique. "Lysanor was so kind as to see after my countless bruises after the Grand Melee," the Baverstock clarifies towards Cyndeyrn when he notices that subtle hint of amusement - which he meets with the hint of a smile. Which will fade when the Dinton knight speaks of the casualties. "One third…?", Bryce echoes, looking quite shocked at the news. Attention shifts to Lysanor then, and he clarifies, "Sir Elrick de Laverstock", when she seems unsure about his saviour's identity. Following her advice, he sits down, but not without slipping the leg in question out of the leather leggings worn underneath, as to facilitate an inspection. Dark eyes flit from Lysanor to her brother; then to the darkening bruise that covers the area of the knee, and slightly below.

"We were outnumbered, and their ilk quite the veteran lot," Cyndeyrn answers, the grim simplicity of his reply emphasizing what was no doubt an equally dark morning on the battlefield. "Most in chain, not leather like their common soldiers. There was a moment, fallen from my horse…" Well, he stops there, not feeling it necessary to burden anyone with his own private moments of inner doubt and weakness. "But we did hold somehow, likely by Lord Earc's skillful command and by our faith, two things the enemy lacked, when most else about them was superior." Speaking through all of this, he keeps his same casual distance, allowing Lysanor her freedom to work without feeling as though he is peering in on the whole procedure or watching her over her shoulder. "But even in our deliverance, aye, the cost was great. Sir Aeryn, newly wed to Sir Perin… and others beside." He does not even mention the Burcombe. No loss!

Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 1.
Lysanor rolls 1d3 and gets (1) for a total of: (1)

When the Laverstock's name is revealed to her, Lysanor offers a slow nod. She has known a few Laverstocks from her youth and then even now with this Sir Arian. "Then I am grateful for his kindness and bravery towards you." Her eyes lift momentarily when these words are spoken, before she knees down besides the seated Lord to better examine that bruised knee. At first she touches upon the discoloration with gentle fingers as she simply prods at the joint there to ensure that there nothing is amiss. With that, she takes out one of her salves and begins to rub the gel into the man's skin. It is her brother now who makes mention of individuals who had fallen, or at least one and here she speaks, "I had not known Sir Aeryn. Not personally, but when I did see her during the tournament, she was always a strong and capable woman and knight." Once she is done the the ointment, she begins the tedious task of bandaging that knee up and as usual, this comes with a warning, "Injuries to anywhere upon your leg, especially your knees and of course, your feet, need time to heal and that can only truly be done with some rest. At least for an hour or so a day, though I would suggest more."

A low, grumble-like noise escapes the depths of Bryce de Baverstock's chest when Cyndeyrn tells him they were outnumbered. "A dire situation, indeed, and I thank the Lord above for seeing you through all of this. I… was lost among Saxons as well, but ready to hold my own. On foot." On foot! His gaze flits to his knee, and he muses, "Funny how I didn't notice the pain in my knee at that very moment, when I had to meet the attacks of those damned Saxons." He falls silent then, eyes widening when he hears the name of Sir Aeryn, and he lowers his gaze. "She was the Champion of the Winter Tourney who earned the chance to spar against Sir Jaradan himself…" That in itself acknowledgement enough of the skill that was now lost to them.

"Laverstock. They do not share our beliefs, yet… in times like these, we must stand together as a unit against the Saxon Threat.", Bryce comments towards Lysanor, his demeanor thoughtful, before he falls silent and endures the treatment of his knee with surprising lightness. "I know, you've given similar advice on earlier occasions," he says with a sigh. "So I shall rest; try to, at least."

"I admit I did not know her well, not personally," Cyndeyrn will say in a mild tone. "But she was clearly a skillful enough knight and the recent news of the wedding I think was still in the minds of many, if only just from rumor." He then gives a small shake of his head. "Which I fear means the whole thing might have had an even greater effect on the morale of those present than it would have otherwise. Not a sign that any wishes to think on, especially with… various further betrothals and weddings yet to come." Which of course, at least in the public knowledge, includes his own now finally formalized to Lady Seren de Woodford, but very likely implies another would-be couple in the tent. "Then again, for a man and woman to take the field together, while there is some… well, something admirable in that, it does make such things far more likely." So, luckily for Lysanor and Seren, they won't die, just their men! After some time realizing he has grown a little morose, Cyndeyrn will then snap into a more neutral tone. "It is good that the man came to your aid, whatever his belief. And it is good to see you back with only a little bit of a limp to complain of and nothing more. Let us both pray that future battles deliver us similarly."

"She was just newly married too.." Lysanor decides to remind, remembering having heard of the wedding, though being too busy to attend; especially with all the preparation that went on for the most recent raids. "The pain does seem to matter less when you are running on adrenaline and are in fight for your life." Here, she frowns, though she continues to wrap the man's knee up neatly with a good sized length of clean bandage. "Still, I am relieved that you are safe. Truly. I was uneasy to know that you would not be riding alongside my brother, but I should know better and that you do not need him to watch over you… for me." Her words come out soft with hesitance here, as if she thought that she ought not utter them. Not before Cyndeyrn. With this talk of the Laverstocks among other things, especially when their religious is mentioned, she simply nods, though that softness of her features slowly begins to fade. When it is her brother who mentions the dangers of men marrying lady knights, this in itself makes her look thoughtful, but here she does state as she straightens up once her duty is done. "And I shall pray with you both as I tend to do when you are away protecting our livelihood." And to this, she lowers her head and crosses herself.

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