(514-06-28) Who, What, Where
Summary: Various knights and some people who have come to aid in the aftermath of Trouble in Sarum get caught up on the situation.
Date: 514-06-28
Related: http://knightlytales.wikidot.com/log:514-06-20-trouble-in-sarum-1-part-2
aluksander arian deryn dillion ffion isyld kamron evae 

Farmer's Market Sarum

The eastern road heading out of Sarum, through the Damas Gate, is more
open than any other roads or avenues in the city itself. During the day it is
a mingle of colorful pavilions and carts, some covered but most open air. This
is where the majority of produce is bought, sold, or traded in Sarum itself.
Most of the produce is raw, various fruits and vegetables, but some vendors
have prepared various dishes or specific items. While the backside of Sarum
Castle rises up to the east of here on its Hillock, the dominant feature is
the Cathedral to the North. Built in stone, it's the one structure that rivals
Sarum Castle in its marvel.

It has been several days since the entourage of knights and squires — and one
bow-mistress — rode out to apprehend the murderous Sior. As they return,
there is no doubt that they missed the siege on Sarum. Areas of the city are
in disaster, and there is a certain quiet unsettled air about the market as
they enter from the west. Buildings still smolder from fires, and there are
streets still barricaded and guarded by heavily armed and armored knights and

Sir Arian de Laverstock is amongst those who enter the market, still astride
her mulberry gelding. Her arm has been placed in a sling and secured tightly
to her side due to a shoulder and rib injury and her armor is still rented
from her encounter with Sior and his entourage. Her helmet is attached to her
saddle, allowing her grim expression to be seen as she regards the state of
the city. "Gods…" she murmurs.

If chainmail could be considered heavily armored, then you could count
Aluksander in that lot. Though he isn't posted at any particular barricade,
instead overseeing a group of men re-constructing a wooden fence towards the
entrance from the east. The tall knight is still scowling, face marred with
dirt and tiredness; it would appear he's been burning the midnight wax these
past few days, though his armor doesn't look as though it had seen any recent
repairs. His shield is also not obvious anywhere in the area, though his sword
is quite obvious, hung in its scabbard on his back.

Sir Dillion de Bishopstone and his squire, Ballick, both ride into
Sarum in ill humour. The squire, still upset after battle made a mess of
Dillion's arms and armour, is murmuring dark thoughts, sitting atop his own
gelding and bringing a change of horse behind him on a rope. Dillion's humours
are out, on the other hand, on account of a mauling: his face is grey, his
left-arm bound tightly to his body, and through sheer wear is almost tilting
out of his saddle.

So passing through the gate it is the squire who first notices the
devestation, murmuring a soft "Jesus," wincing, and crossing himself quickly
for his impiety. Dillion only gradually comes to his senses, catching the
whiff of burning thatch, the reek inseparable from a recent combat. He
straightens up, grows even greyer, but says nothing.

Kamron grimaces as the smell of ash and flame washes over him, "Lord Above. I
never imagined that it would get so bad. There must have been thousands of
them." Along with the returning knights and squires are four bound and gagged
men, two of them almost as young as the squires. His own armor and surcoat are
spattered with blood, and there's a slice across his surcoat at the left hip.
He slows to a stop, looking around the market in horror, "We should have been
here." The words are murmured, stricken, as if he truly believed that five
knights and their squires could have turned the tides of a battle of this

"We cannot think about what should have been, Kam," Arian says softly to the
Dinton as she slows her horse alongside his. "There is nothing to say that we
would actually have turned these tides if we had been here." She inhales
deeply, and the smell causes her to immediately draw her hand to her nose. She
has not smelled that smell in a long time. She then notices Aluksander and
starts to guide her horse in his direction. "Lo, Sir Aluksander…" She
glances over toward Dillion and his squire, offering small nods at their own
reaction to the market. "We heard… what is the status of the city?" Her
expression is drawn and worried, and she cannot stop the second question from
escaping her lips, "Have you seen my brothers?"

By way of one of the streets, Sir Deryn arrives with others who have
been fetching supplies, some with buckets of water to give to commoner and
knight's alike working to put out the remaining fires, and begin to repair the
area as best as they might at the moment. Taking one bucket herself, she heads
towards the group reparing the wall that includes Aluksander, the young lady
knight pausing before him, "Water?" As for she, there is some stiffness in her
movement, and from behind, there's obvious repair to her mail along one area
of her back, some chain shinier than the rest. Dirty is she, though not so
blood-splattered as others.

Since the battle the other day, the second one, in which she followed
Jaradan, Isyld has remained in Sarum running patrols in and outside of town,
checking for hidden Saxons in houses as instructed. So, it's with armor and
armed with her sword and her axe that she walks through the market, just
running patrol, checking the people, looking for safety issues. Perhaps she
looks a little worn and tired, but dedicated. Noticing the other group of
knights, some familiar, she approaches, Kamron perhaps one she is most
familiar with from the challenges. She tips her head in a nod, "Sirs,"
greeting them all as a group.

It isn't the best time to be traveling /to/ Sarum if one isn't a knight or
squire, which is precisely why Ffion has two Stapleford knights following up
behind her. Ffion is manning a cart, the contents of which are under woolen
blankets. A grim look settles on her features as she surveys the scene.
Noticing an impromptu gathering of knights arriving, Ffion steers herself in
that direction. Her eyes can't help but flit from injury to injury. Instead of
asking anything directly for now, she listens on to hear about the state of
the city, should anyone know.

The town's state obliges Dillion to try and pull himself together,
pulling himself up in his saddle with a grunt of discomfort, restoring himself
to the facade of a straight-backed, inspiring man-at-arms and slayer of the
Earl's enemies. He still looks like hell, but hell making an effort.

"Sir," Dillion says to Kamron, his voice a little quiet, "we were in
pursuit of justice, and to turn away from that… the Lord gave each of us
tasks according to our strength, and Sarum stands yet." The knight gives
approving looks to the others passing about, a polite nod in response to
Isyld's greeting.

Turning when he is called, it takes Aluksander a moment to recognize
Arian and the others, what with the bandages and everything. "Well met, Sir
Arian," he calls back, taking a few steps away from the work being done to
approach the knight. "The city is … secure. And I can't say that I have seen
your brothers, though I have also not heard of them being counted among the
slain, of which I have been keeping a closer count. So unfortunately, I can't
offer you any happier news than that," he says.

Aluksander nods to the other knights that ride with her. "The Inn and
tavern can both offer respite; they've moved the triage out to the fields
without. Within, we rebuild and refortify, even while others hunt the blasted
Saxon dogs," he says. He then takes note of the men being pulled bhind them.
"I see you have prisoners, shall I relieve you of them? It would seem you've
had a hard ride. I am more than willing to take them to the holding area,
while you recover?" he offers.

Kamron looks over to Aluksander when Arian greets the man, inclining his head
as well. Isyld and Deryn gets the same greeting, and he grimaces over to
Dillion, "Yes, I know. It still hurts to see Sarum in such a state. But you're
quite correct. How are you holding up, Sir Dillion? I know how horrible
traveling before being fully healed can be." His eyes shift over to Arian as
well as he speaks, not judging at all, really. Looking back to the prisoners,
he adds, "I think we can see them to the keep and turn them over there. Thank
you. Were there many lost then? I assume so, based on the damage."

Stepping back from Aluksander as he's called, Deryn's question as to
whether or not he might wish some water fades off. Listening quietly to the
conversation, she soon turns attention to others that arrive as well, dipping
her head to each in turn, "I do not believe your brothers are on the list of
those that were killed in battle." She finally does offer to Arian. "Only two
I know are confirmed at this moment. Others.. it is in the hands of healers
and the gods that they pray too."

Arian does not respond to Kamron's look or words, but does offer him a wry
smile. Then she sobers, looking back to Aluksander. "At least that is some
news…" She shifts uneasily in her saddle, and then starts to dismount. She
struggles a bit with her arm at her side, but manages to get onto her feet
without making a fool of herself. She glances over toward Deryn at her words,
and she breathes out a slow exhale. "I will have to hope that they are all
okay." Then she starts to wind her gelding's reins around his head so she can
guide him. She licks her try lips. "Who were amongst the casualties?" The
question is said in a dry voice.

Isyld hasn't even heard who are among the casualties really, so she
looks to Arian at the question, curious herself, perhaps somewhat dreading it
as well. Feeling like the worst sort of gawker as she awaits the response. The
others who join up are given a friendly smile, though seeing wounds of those
from battles, a flash of sympathy lights in her eyes. "It seems all houses
have felt the effects."

"I apologize, but I couldn't help but overhear…" well couldn't help while
waiting for a moment to interject that is. "If anyone here is in need of aid,
please feel free to seek me out. Just ask after Lady Ffion de Stapleford," she
offers the warriors, wounded and not wounded alike. "If I may, I just want to
make sure none of my kinsmen are among the casualties before I move on to

Dillion replies to Kamron's expression with a very small, very wry
smile. "It is far more comfortable, sir, to be riding injured than to -not- be
riding injured, if you follow me. The lady of the manor knew the healing
touch." Behind, his squire murmurs something about bleeding straight through
his clothes and all, but in the tumult nobody would be likely to hear him even
if they cared.

Overhearing Isyld, Dillion looks over at her, catching the 'all
houses' and unable to prevent himself from his own selfish queries. "Any
Bishopstones among the hurt, do you know? My brothers may have been…" the
young knight catches himself, shakes his head, cuts off his question.

Aluksander scowls at the question of who died, anger flaring back up
easily enough. He shakes his head, a short, quick motion, then exhales and
forces his brow to unknit. "Sir Aeryn has been killed, for one," he says,
bitterly. "Maelgwyn de Burcombe, as well, I'm sorry to report. Outside of
that, I have neard of no deaths. Injuries, though, I don't know. I was
assigned to guard the castle proper, and thus was not present for the majority
of the fighting. I'm sorry I'm such a poor source of information," he says,
shrugging helplessly. He moves to stand beside Deryn, reaching out to stroke
her arm affectionately before doing so. He then addresses everyone as a whole.
"Truly, as a whole, I think we gave far worse than we got. It is just … hard
to take being attacked so close to home."

Kamron shifts in his saddle as Arian works to dismount, but he does not leave
his own saddle yet, "I assume the Dintons were down in Wilton? Did it get hit
as well?" His eyes go off to the southwest, searching the sky for smoke, but
with so much smoke immediately in the air about them, it's difficult to see if
Wilton has been burned as well. Nodding to Isyld, he adds, "I do hope that
everyone made it into the cities in time, and that the manors are not too
damaged." Ffion's words cause him to bow his head to her, "I'm certain that
the assistance of healers is at a premium at the moment, Lady Ffion."
Aluksander's response causes him to blink, "I have to say that I haven't met
either of them greatly, but Sir Aeryn? Just after she was married. How is the
widower?" Concern flickers over his features, a deepening frown.

The Pagan woman looks over toward Ffion as she speaks of aid, and Arian shakes
her head slightly. "We were seen to on our way back to Sarum… Sir Dillion is
the only one I worry about." And she glances at the Bishopstone. Then her
attention returns to Aluksander as he lists the dead he knows. Arian's face
pales at the mention of Sir Aeron, and she glances over toward Kamron at the
mention of the windower. "Oh… Sir Perin…" She shakes her head, and sighs.
Her shoulders seem heavy. "What of the Saxons? Have they fled Salisbury?"
There is a touch of hope there, suggesting she wants to hear that all is safe
once more in the fiefdom.

"I meant houses being affected by the injured as well, not certain of
more Bishopstones, but none that I am aware of. I have heard of no other
casualties." Isyld tells Dillion in the response to his query. At the mention
of Perin and the others, she also shakes her head. Indeed it was sad. "I could
make inquiries as to how Sir Perin is with his family, but so far I have heard

Deryn offers a soft smile to Aluksander when he moves back next to
her, the light touch of his hand to earn a momentary grasp of his hand in hers
should she be able to do so. Turning to Kamron, she answers his question, "I
heard he took it fairly hard. Beyond that, I have no other news. " But with a
subtle shift of her chin upwards, she nods, "They are gone from Sarum, at
least. Fleeing, though in various directions. Those that could have been
patroling and harrassing them.. "

Aluksander grimaces to Kamron and shakes his head briefly at the
question of Sir Perin's condition. But, he has no further report to offer, as
well. "Aye, and there are parties being gathered, even now, to pursue them or
to likewise attack them. Sarum is safe, but those who wish to are being
afforded the opportunity to retaliate," he explains. He then gestures towards
the relative disarray of the area. "The rest of us are helping as best we can
to put things right as swiftly as possible. I should think we are lucky the
attack came when it did; if they had struck much earlier, there would have
been a great many still travelling or reveling after the High King's wedding."

Deryn's grasp is accepted happily, and even held for a few seconds.

Dillion gives Isyld a solemn bow of the head in reply to her answer.
"Thank you," he says. "No doubt it is difficult, being the font of information
on…" he pauses, closes his eyes for a moment, sways momentarily in his
saddle and grips the horn with his right hand. "On a day like this," he
concludes lamely. A brief, acknowledging nod to Arian's mention of his state.
"Thank you for your concern, but my bandages will keep for a time."

"And ruin your good tunic while they do," Dillion's squire adds,
clopping off to find a place to keep their horses. "Oh dear oh dear."

The sorrow shown by Kamron turns to anger as he looks around the city, "If
they've fled, then they're scattered." He nods sharply to Aluksander, "I'll
have to talk to His Grace about hunting them down." Arian's brushing off the
concerns for her safety causes him to roll his shoulders and frown, but he
doesn't correct her, instead frowning at Deryn, "Is he in a shape to hunt
Saxons? It might help, I should think." Pulling off his mail mitts, he hangs
them over the front of his saddle, rubbing his face with both hands, "Newt,"
he addresses his gangly squire, "why don't you and the other squires," He
looks to the other knights for permission, "take the prisoners up to the keep?
We'll be along shortly."

Ffion nods solemnly to Kamron and doesn't seem affected by the news of the
losses. Arian draws her attention. "Good. And thank you for the tip," she says
with a little dip of her head. It's not difficult to find the worst off among
them, but as service is refused, she hops down from her cart and approaches
Sir Dillion, "And the last time you had them changed?"

Arian looks after Newt as the squire prepares to take the prisoners to the
keep, and then she looks back at Kamron. "Not until you are healed, Sir
Kamron," she says sternly, shaking her head slightly. "You do not go charging
after Saxons when you have your own wounds to tend to." There is a solemn
touch of affection there for the Dinton, though she clears her throat and
looks away before she can get caught chiding the Dinton knight. Then she
frowns slightly. "How have the other settlements fared? Have any of the manors
been attacked?"

A tentative smile is given to Dillion, "I cannot even imagine. I do
know my family has fared well at least, but our allies and friends…" her
smile falters but she attempts to recall it only for a wry look to appear. Her
eyes drop to bandages, if they are apparent, "It seems you were also injured.
I was lucky." With a rueful twist of her lips, she offers, "Sir Isyld de
Chalke," tipping her head forward in a polite gesture.

Glancing to the bucket in her hand, Deryn soon steps forwards, to
offer some to Arian, "Fresh water? If you'd like some?" She's got a small
metal cup to dip into the bucket to use to drink. "I don't know much else
about Sir Perin… I think he went to his family's manor.. " That's all her
knowledge. "I arrived with Sir Acwel and reinforcements from the Count just
after the earlier battle outside of Sarum. I've been kept busy doing a few
other things around the city after being injured while on the mission to

Aluksander nods to Arian's question. "Aye, some were, but I have not
heard of any great battles; I think the main force was here at Sarum and there
were only skirmishes elsewhere," he says. "Really, I don't think the entire
scope of the incursion has been determined yet; information comes in daily
with new reports. I think we should know better what all happened by the
week's end, but as of yet, we're still in the recovery phase."

"The last time?" Dillion looks at Ffion and furrows his brow. "I… I
can't quite… let me see, what time is it?" He looks up at the sky.
"Ballick!" But his squire is already long gone. He goes a little greyer at the
lapse of such an important memory - vanity, vanity, all is vanity, and so on.
At any rate, it was long enough ago that the dust of the road is as thick on
the visible patches of bandage as the rest of him.

Turning about to Isyld, Dillion's eyes do open a bit. "Chalke, you
say? A pleasure, Sir Isyld; I am Sir Dillion. I daresay we have been in the
same room, then; I am ashamed to have not recognized you at once." The sight
of a properly (British) Christian neighbour in the midst of all this
strangeness and horror bucks him up in his saddle. "I hope your family
survived the battle whole."

Kamron shakes his head at Arian's concern, "I'm fine, Sir Arian." Stretching
his left hip and hiding a grimace, he shrugs, "It barely hurts." A hint of a
chuckle touches his throat, "Thank you for the concern though, it does you
credit." Now he's just teasing her, although it's quiet and a little subdued.
His lips press together as he considers the situation, "I didn't see a great
deal of smoke from the other directions as we were coming in, so perhaps the
damage was constrained to the southeastern sections of Salisbury." A worried
glance is cast over to the Laverstock at that, for all that that manor is
further east than south. Letting out a breath, he considers, "It's almost a
shame to have missed a battle such as that, although at least we managed to
make the north a little safer. And perhaps there is still more that we can
do." He stops, then looks to Arian once more, "Once I am ready to travel."

Arian looks apologetic. "I am sorry, Sir Aluksander… I should know that…
and should not expect you to know everything about these events." She breathes
out a heavy sigh, twisting her horse's reins in her hands. She casts a dubious
glance at Kamron at his attempt to persuade her that he is alright. She does
not look convinced. She then sobers, nodding a bit at the inferences being
made about the state of the other manors. "I'm sure that Trystan will be
riding on to make sure Laverstock is alright, but I'm sure we would have heard
more by now." At least, she hopes. She returns to her saddle now, fetching a
waterskin. "Thank you, Sir Deryn… but I have some here… save it for those
without." She offers the fellow Lady knight a small smile of thanks. She
nurses the skin, allowing her thoughts to wander as she regards Sarum with
thin, sorrowful lips.

"Sir Dillion," Isyld echoes softly, recognizing the name at least with
a bit of an abashed smile. "A pleasure to be sure." She inclines her head, "So
far as I have heard, they have, I have not heard from my brother as of yet,
but I have been spending the bulk of my time in Wilton." She looks to Kamron
and Arian, "If you would like someone to go with you on any excursions, please
count me in your numbers."

"Well. That means too long ago," Ffion murmurs as she inspects the bandaging
done without undoing all of the work, yet that is. "If you wish, I can give it
a go right here or you can march yourself to triage." There is no third option
for Sir Dillion, at least how Lady Ffion is painting it. "You do not want
sickness to set in." She has to crane her neck a little to address him while
being close enough to inspect, causing slight purse to her lips.

"You look as if you could use some just as much as others." Deryn
offers to Arian, though nods to the other lady knight when she takes up her
waterskin. The others are offered drinks, a hint of a smile to touch her lips
at hearing Ffion take to Dillion about his injuries. "Sounds like you should
listen to the healer, sir." A half tease is given to the other knight, humor
attempted to ease the doom and gloom that all might feel in that moment.

Dillion presses his lips together at Ffion's attention, making them
even whiter than usual. "The Lord would not preserve me on the field only to
take me with the wind," he declares, but the objection is slightly pro-forma.
With a grunt of pained exertion he slings himself off his saddle, manages to
hit the ground without wincing, and submits to Ffion's attention. "If you have
none in urgent peril, however, cleanliness is its own reward."

While dealing with that unpleasant business, Dillion looks back at
Isyld, smiling, nodding. "If he had met trouble, I am sure you would have been
told. Sir… I forget his name, but a man of such a house would be counted
quickly in any company."

So wrapped-up in conversation is he - and light-headed - that it takes
a moment for Dillion to catch the meaning of Deryn's light mockery. "If we
listened to healers without thought, lady, the Saxons would have to carry us
from our sickbeds to find their sport!" But his tone is light.

Kamron nods to Isyld, "Excellent. Another strong axe-arm would certainly be
welcome." Shrugging a little helplessly — and wincing again — he adds,
"Assuming that His Grace allows it." He accepts the dipper from Deryn, leaning
out of his saddle to take it. Sipping, he lets out a relieved breath, "Thank
you. The smoke was drying me out." Looking back down to Arian, he adds in,
"I'm certain that Laverstock is fine, Sir Arian. And that Sir Trystan will
send word back to where you are recuperating here as soon as he can."

Aluksander nods to Arian's response. "No apology needed; had I more
news, I would gladly share it. I am sorry that I don't," he says. As Deryn's
water is denied, he reaches for the cup, then, having let others turn down the
offer first. He takes a drink, downing the entire cup in one tilt, before
returning it to the bucket and running his hand through his long hair. Hair
which is no longer its usual, lustrous blonde, but quite dirty and dingy from
all of the smoke and toil. He sighs, then, looking back to the fence he had
been minding the repairs on and the workers there. And then they're joking
about healers? Aluksander frowns distinctly, looking between Deryn and
Dillion, though he holds his tongue. No sense in making anyone feel worse, at
the moment, if it could be helped, regardless of his own lack of humor.

Arian does not seem comforted by either knights' words, but she offers a small
nod to Aluksander and Kamron. She stows away her waterskin, shaking her head
slightly as she looks back around the market. "Yes… and here is where I'm
going to stay…" She then looks back toward Dillion and Deryn, listening to
the pair about healing, and then she offers a wry smile. "Knights? Listening
to healers? Gods, I have never experienced such a miracle."

The water is shared with those that want it before the bucket is
turned to those workers on the fence. Deryn laughs quietly in return to
Dillion's tease back, the smile growing at Arian's addition, "Indeed.. some
would say it'd be the end of the world the day we knights listen to a
healer…. completely." Even she knows she's pushed a healer's words here and
there, though she does glance to Aluksander, likely taking note of his frown.

"I am not implying he would do anything less than that," Ffion says with much
intonation, though her expression betrays that she is focused to task, rather
than emotion. "One moment. Just, stay there." Ffion turns and hesitates in her
movement, having to halt herself from hopping up onto a wheel spoke given
she's dressed in a treacherous bliant. She sighs at taking the 'long way' and
is quick to pull at a sack. Yes, she's treating him from a sack. She returns
with a corked beetle green bottle and fresh dressings, which she has draped
over her forearm. "Is there any fresh water left?" she inquires of the group
as she simultaneously scans about.

Aluksander doesn't say anything to Deryn, though he does notice her
glance at him. He purses his lips and fights the scowl, but doesn't manage to
erase it entirely, apparently intent on being the grouchy gus in the group. He
folds his arms across his chest and glowers to himself, though he doesn't say
anything further, managing to keep his grumpiness to himself. There's enough
things to be upset about, no need for him to add to it.

"Well, I believe you need to find a balance between what the healers want and
what our duty requires." Kamron glances up toward the keep as the squires come
back at a trot, "There has to be something we can do in the short-term."
Besides actually lifting up boards and the like, because that sort of thing
isn't done by knights. Drawing in a low breath and coughing roughly as he
inhales a bit too much smoke, the Dinton shakes his head, "This is horrible,
but I'm very glad that the defenders of the city came through in the end. I
can only imagine the chaos and destruction if the defense and been cracked."

"If indeed he will, you may count me among your ranks." Isyld repeats
with a half smile. Her squire comes up and murmurs something to her, she gives
a nod, "If you would all excuse me, I am needed, my cousin is requesting me."
A dip of her head and a friendly smile. "I will be in Sarum, Sir Kamron, Sir
Arian, should you need me." Another look given to Dillion, "Sir Kylan, I am
sure had he found trouble, I would have heard, thank you for the vote of
confidence. Be well." A nod given to Deryn and the healer as well before she
walks off with her squire.

Arian breathes out a heavy sigh, and she shakes her head slightly. "I should
go see to some rest before we see the Earl." Her gaze wanders over toward
Kamron, and she offers him a small smile. "Let me know if you are heading back
to Dinton, Sir Kamron… I have a letter for your sister that she has been
waiting for." She also nods slightly to the others, particularly to Isyld as
she starts to say her own farewells. She starts to lead her horse off.

Dillion gives Isyld a polite nod as she retires, and glances over his
shoulder as he senses a scowl. He frowns, back, thinking too hard, tottering
on his feet. As he waits for Ffion's return, the knight gives Deryn a small,
acknowledging smile. "The last healer to tend to me did not need me to listen,
as I was quite insensible. However, she did improve my condition, so I find
myself feeling conciliatory." That conciliatory feeling, however, does fade a
bit when Ffion returns, with sack, and Dillion gives it a short look. "Is this
quite necessary?" he asks, standing on his dignity to the extent he can stand
at all.

"Good eve'n to you, then, Sirs," Aluksander says to Arian and Isyld as
they prepare to depart. Then, he looks to Kamron, frowning a bit more. "While
I agree that, in times of peace, the construction and maintenance of
fortifications is not the work of a knight, in times such as these, it is best
that any who are able to attend, /do/. It is far better for me to help mend a
fence, repair a wall, or clear debris than to stand idly by. And since I've
the time and energy to spare, far better for me to spend it hammering a nail
than beating my fists against a wall, until such a time as I can beat them
against a Saxon," he says.

Deryn turns when the call is made for water, excusing herself from the
men at the wall to approach Ffion and Dillion, "There's some in here, gathered
from the well.." Cool and clean it is, thankfully, if one doesn't mind the few
cups of water taken out to be drunk by those knights about them. She holds her
words, though one might have the impression that hse agrees with Aluksander,
for all that it might matter at the moment.

Kamron gestures up toward the Keep as Arian begins to excuse herself, "I'll
ride with you, Sir Arian. There are, rather unfortunately, probably a great
many open beds for a rest, and I should get the prisoners settled in. And then
you can pass along the letter. I'll make sure it gets to Wen, although I am
distinctly curious about the contents." He nods to Isyld, "Thank you for
the offer, Sir Isyld. I will certainly let you know what the Earl says."
Aluksander gets a nod, "You may be right, Sir. But I think that I might focus
on a vengeance that cannot be gained by a carpenter."

"You may be curious as much as you like, Sir Kamron, but it will be up to her
whether or not she shares the contents." The Pagan smiles gently as she starts
to head off with the Dinton beside her. She looks over her shoulder toward the
others before she focuses on the path ahead to find a bed — or a place to
unroll her bedroll.

"Maybe if you like your arm," Ffion mumbles wryly, in oddly good humor. "Sir,
I am just changing your dressing, but yes it is necessary and important. There
is a purity that must be maintained." She turns to Deryn and offers a small
smile and nod. "Thank you." Then she gets to work. She has about as much
sureness in her fingers as a hunter out field dressing their quarry. "I know
this isn't the best part," she mentions as she gets to the last layer of
bandages. Perhaps out of pity, she does check to see if any of the bandage has
fused to the wound site. Fast slow, it would hurt just the same, only one
takes longer.

"May I?" Dillion asks Deryn as the water comes. "It has been a dusty
ride." He doesn't seem to mind getting to the water late in line, but then nor
does he notice anybody's attitude towards his irreverant attitude towards the
healers. He notices relatively little, until Ffion starts to remove old
bandages. The injury below his left shoulder is both severe enough and recent
enough that just removing the outer layers makes him flinch for an involuntary
instant, though fortunately the healer on the site did a sufficiently
masterful job that none of the fabric has dried into the nasty, jagged
spear-thrust that must have come within an ace of ending him.

Unarmored, dressed in a black tunic and black breeches with dusty
brown boots that have seen better days, Evae enters the market. Her golden
hair is pulled back in a braid but it wraps around to create a sort of
decoration across the crown of her head. A sword sheathed at her side marks
her as a knight, but she is lacking heraldry to identify her house. Some may
recognize her though, as Winterbourne Stoke, simply because she was well
traveled during her squire years and recently knighted. Fresh faced, taller
than some, she hasn't quite got a squire yet, but it was in the works! As she
notices the gathering, she approaches, offering a solemn sort of greeting,
noticing the healer working on the bandages and taking interest in it. "You
were injured by the Saxons as well?" The question asked of Dillion, though the
healer and those surrounding are given a smile.

Aluksander frowns after Kamron as the other knight departs, his arms
not uncrossing for several seconds. Finally, he just scoffs and shakes his
head, moving to give Deryn a brief hug from behind. He'll also plant a kiss on
the top of her head, before turning back towards the men working on the fence.
"Much as it might be below me, I'm going to go help finish what I started.
I'll see you before I retire, love?" he asks of Deryn. Dillion and Ffion get a
raised hand and a nod as he backs away towards the east entrance.

"Certainly, take what you want.." Deryn says to Dillion when he
requests a cup of water, the knight to hold the bucket for he and the healer
to use. She watches as Ffion unbandges the knight's injury, wincing just a
small bit when it's uncovered. When hugged from behind, she turns, smiling to
Aluksander, nodding, "I will see you later, yes.."

Dillion catches a question and turns, very slowly, careful to disturb
neither the healer working on his bandages nor his wounds themselves. "The
Saxons?" he asks, somewhat slowly, through his white lips and greying face.
"No, I was away to the north, with others, trailing an infandous murderer. One
of his band of wretches wielded a spear and was no gentleman." He pauses long
enough to take a cup of water from Deryn and drink it deep, using only his
right hand. Then he takes another, and that disappears no less quickly.

"By God's will," Dillion finishes, his voice a bit heartier with
refreshment, "we did prevail, though."

As Aluksander gets back to work overseeing the fence repair, Deryn
offers the water as needed to Dillion until the other knight has had his fill.
"Would that be those that murdered Sir Hadyn here?" She asks, curious. Still
she watches the healer, seeming curious to what the woman does.

"Oh good a salve was applied," Ffion thinks aloud. She looks over towards
Aluksander and nods, both hands occupied. Assuming that what Dillion wants the
water for is completely different than what she does, Ffion watches the bucket
like a hawk. She has made a little pile of the old dressings at her feet.
"That sounds like a tale to be told." She /is/ listening! Her hands work
nimbly and first she starts with the water. Taking a moment, she surveys the
wound, then looks at the bucket, then the wound. Without looking, she grabs
the bucket and begins to pour it evenly to wash everything away, careful to
keep it close enough so as to not damage anything further, but far enough away
to make sure it does its work.

While everyone goes about their work, Evae continues to watch the
healer, the water being poured over gets a brief wince and she looks to the
face of the recipient, curious to how sore the wound was. She doesn't question
it, but listens about it being a non-Saxon. "I had heard Earl Robert sent a
band of people to seek him out. I trust it was successful then?" A glance is
given to the departing knight and the woman he had kissed, but mostly she
watches the healer's hands working.

Dillion nods at Deryn, and jerks his head slightly when Ffion starts
to clean that well-cared-for wreck of a wound. "They… -would- be," he says
with the emphasis of a clenched jaw, and he takes a moment to catch his
breath. "The story could have been better, for our approach was noticed before
our plans could take place. Yet his guard fell in short order, and he threw
his last followers upon us to fight his way out. A vain hope. None of our true
Christian knights," not quite accurate, but he's not to know that, "fell, and
the villain taken alive to face the Earl's justice."

A momentary pause, and Dillion adds, "The sight of what happened in
Sarum when we were away… it takes some of the luster away. Man's villainy
never sleeps, and there are too few valorous hands to meet it."

Deryn doesn't comment on his words about Christian knights, but merely
nods her head before handing the bucket over to Ffion, "If you need more, I'll
send a squire to the well?" That said aside to the healer as she begins to
wash off the wound, pouring th water over his skin. Back to the story, she
hmms, "Good to hear, that the man was brought back.. I do not begin to
understand what happened. I heard rumors that he kept calling him by another
name." Shaking her head, she soon turns, to peer at the fence repairs, "It was
a shock to see the forces when we rode into view of Sarum. Glad we'd managed
to convince the northern Count to give us some help."

"There were.. deaths here." Evae offers, glancing towards the gate,
lifting her arms to wrap them around herself. "I heard there was a Burcombe
who lost his life. As well as Aeryn." Tilting her head, she regards Dillion
somewhat seriously, "You should never diminish anything you've done. You have
brought a murderer to justice. It doesn't mean there aren't others who would
kill the innocent." Another look towards the gate and she gives a mental shake
to herself as she looks once more to the healer. "Can I help you with
anything? I have a little experience also."

"Thank you," Ffion says without taking her eyes off of her work. Once the
water has washed through the wound, she gently pulls his hand down further so
she can inspect the wound, doing her diligence. "Good," she mumbles, not
noticing the onlooking eyes. For all of the verbal and attitudinal thrift, the
woman has a warm decisive touch, perhaps a saving grace for her bedside manner
so far. Once satisfied with her inspection, she reaches for the green bottle
and lifts it to her lips to receive a whisper. Her eyes are closed and then
they are open in a flash as she frees the cork and starts to coat the wound in
salve. The scent is herbaceous. "A Burcombe? Do you know who his immediate kin
are?" Why a Roman Christian Lady would be asking this is probably a mystery in
and of itself.

"I missed the villainy myself," Dillion says to Deryn, giving another
small cringe at the healer's water but managing not to flinch, "perhaps just
as well, with how roughly his lackey handled me. But he and his men had seized
a manor to the north, up the Avon, and its lord lay dead within." He lowers
his eyes, shakes his head, but conspicuously keeps his gaze away from his
wounded side, letting Ffion apply her salve. "When the Devil takes a man
so…" he closes his eyes, crossing himself though his hand only hovers over
his injured left breast.

Eyes still closed, Dillion adds in reply to Evae, "In the field, after
the deed, I confess I succumbed to self-reproach and… well, the less said
the better." His eyes open again. "But you are quite right. I did my share,
and my mistakes burn in me, but they will make my arm all the steadier next

"Sir Maelgwyn." The name is supplied to Evae and Ffion, "Twin brother
to Sir Rozenn? Cousins to the main line." This she knows, it would seem. Quiet
is she, though she soon steps back, "If you will excuse me, I should get back
to my own patrols and overseeing the water delivery."

"Sir Maelgwyn, yes. And my sister Aeryn." Evae nods to Deryn, "I
should also get back soon." The healer and the Bishopstone seemed to have
everything else well in hand. Looking at the latter, she nods, "I have seen it
before in the fields. Normal men become violent with rage and self reproach. I
hope you were able to overcome it easily." A glance is given towards the gate
and the work there. "I will go and make myself useful, it was a pleasure
seeing you all." A respectful nod given.

This news, for some reason, causes the Stapleford to go completely still for a
moment, penetrating that seemingly unflappable concentration. Then, as if
nothing happened, a moment later she hurriedly finishes applying the salve. As
for the bandaging portion, she's careful not to make it too tight, but seems
to be much quicker about this work, maneuvering the bandages as efficiently as
possible. It isn't long before she stoops to pick up the dirtied old bandages
without much fanfare. "Just make sure you check it okay?"

As the conversation turns towards casualties taken rather than those
given Dillion goes quieter, eyes downcast, wavering slightly on his feet as
his wound is bandaged, wincing even at what tightness is required for its
purpose. "Thank you," he says, softly. "I certainly shall." He glances around
at the company, at the marred town of Sarum, and rubs his face, lightly, with
his good right hand. "But I pray you shall excuse me. I should… see to my
horses." A nod to each of those present, and off he walks, none-too-easily,
eyes sticking in front of him.

The eastern road heading out of Sarum, through the Damas Gate, is more
open than any other roads or avenues in the city itself. During the day it is
a mingle of colorful pavilions and carts, some covered but most open air. This
is where the majority of produce is bought, sold, or traded in Sarum itself.
Most of the produce is raw, various fruits and vegetables, but some vendors
have prepared various dishes or specific items. While the backside of Sarum
Castle rises up to the east of here on its Hillock, the dominant feature is
the Cathedral to the North. Built in stone, it's the one structure that rivals
Sarum Castle in its marvel.

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