(514-08-16) A Pagan in the Fold
Summary: Another visit to Dinton manor by Sir Arian, including some weighty discussion.
Date: August 16, 514
Related: Recent events, but no other logs directly.
kamron amalthea heulwen arian cyndeyrn 

Even when you're on campaign in friendly territory, it's unpleasant at best when your tent splits at the seams. Kamron could have sent his squire back to Dinton by himself to fetch a replacement or have it repaired, but instead, he's ridden up from Ebble along with Newt. After all, it's been a week or two since he's been home, and he misses the place. The Dinton and the Newton each have a few holes in their own surcoats, and their armor has been scuffed, scraped, and dirtied, but neither actually has any wounds — besides the remains of a couple of shiners on Kamron. As he approaches the manor, he raises up a hand, calling out, "Halloo the Manor!" Just in case the fact that he was riding up slowly, without a helmet on, and with Dinton colors didn't make his peaceful intentions clear enough.

There's the thunder of hooves from the direction of behind the manor, and out comes Thea, flying across the land like a banshee. Low over the horse, thick braid streaming behind her, it's not hard to see the Lady rides in Kamron's direction. "Kam! Kamron! You're back!" The words are almost lost to the THUD-THUD-KERTHUD-THUD of the horses pounding stride, and Thea daren't lift an arm in greeting.

Kamron looks about sharply at the thunder of hooves, reaching down to the axe at his hip in alarm. And then it's clear that it's Amalthea, and she doesn't look panicked — far from it, really. And so he's left to just grasp for the front of his saddle and do his best to control his horse at the rapid approach of Thea's steed. He manages, but Newt has a bit more trouble with it, losing Kamron's helmet and spear and sliding part-way out of his saddle before he recovers, both rouncys and the charger being led by Newt stepping lively, infected by the activity of the other horse. Kamron laughs aloud, however, "Just for a bit, Thea."

Amalthea checked her horsemanship of 15, she rolled 11.

Amalthea has thighs of steel. How else could one explain the way her horse slides to a stop mere feet from Kamron and Newt? She clucks to their mounts, a personal greeting, grinning wildly. Then it's back to Kamron, and a lengthy assessment of the knight. "Well, at least you're alive. Heulwen will be pleased. Welcome home. I feel as if I've not seen you in an age! Bring the horses round to the stables?"

Today must be the day for a gathering of mounted Dintons, for in the distance comes the ringing clippity-clop of a horse at a trot; no rushing gallop or haggard walk, but the steady pace of someone who knows they are going to be home quite soon and feels no need to rush. It takes another few minutes before Heulwen is finally visible, rounding the corner of a small building on the outskirts of the main yard to the manor. With her gaze directed forward, it is easy enough for her to see that there are others about, so she clicks Ffionn up into a quicker trot so that she can catch up with Kamron and Amalthea on their way to the stables. "Is that my brother I spy?!" she calls out when she gets close enough to recognize Kamron.

The skittish rouncys calm as Amalthea draws her horse to a stop, and Newt regains his full seat once more. Kamron nods to Amalthea, "I'm alive, and everyone I know is alive, so that's something." Reaching over, he gives Newt a little cuff on the shoulder, then stands up in his stirrups to dismount, only for his sister to come trotting around the corner, "Wennie! It's so good to see you both." And then he swings a leg over and drops down to the ground with a jangle of chain.

"And I am chopped liver," Amalthea mutters her amusement to Kamron at Heulwen's exclusion of her newly-returned presence. When his sister joins them, Thea gives her an assessing look. "You look unmolested. That is well. Trouble follows you the way a dragon follows gold and I, for one, am pleased to hear of your betrothal to someone known for being steady!" Her grin is bright, impish and cheshire all at once. "Congratulations, in other words!"

Heulwen, although unaccompanied, seems entirely unmolested indeed. She practically flings herself out of her saddle, much to Ffionn's startlement, and throws herself at her brother for a big, tight hug. Then she turns on Amalthea, laughing, and cups the woman's face before administering a hearty kiss to each cheek. "No, you are not chopped liver at all. I am just as happy to see you, my dear cousin, but I know that you are much more skilled at staying out of trouble than my brother. It comes as more of a surprise to see him alive, you understand."

Wennie laughs a second time, looking both flushed and breathless from her sudden flouncing around, and rests her hands on her hips while she catches her breath. Her gaze darts between Ama and Kam, but at the former's words her smile droops briefly; a faint flicker of uneasiness makes its way over her visage, but is replaced within a heartbeat by the same cheerful amusement. "Ah, my betrothal, well I thank you, dear cousin, and I am sure Sir Acwel would do the same if he were here. On his behalf, I will extend our congratulations to you as well, Ama, for your betrothal. It seems as if Kam is the odd man out here. What say you to that, dear brother? Ready to stop dragging your feet yet?"

Kamron laughs easily at Amalthea's response, "No, you're my delightful cousin." And then he's being swept up in Heulwen's hug, which he returns with interest despite the fact that he's still wearing his armor. "Everyone is more skilled at staying out of trouble than I am, Wen." He passes over the reins of his rouncy over to Newt so that his squire can go off to the stables ahead of the family. "Perhaps, dear sister, perhaps. Although there are definitely issues with that." A chuckle lifts to his throat at that, and he shrugs, "But I'm happy to see my sister and my cousin well-wed. Or at least well-betrothed."

"Well betrothed, certainly. Well wed?" Amalthea chuckles dryly, returning Heulwen's kiss with a light brushing of her own. "That remains to be seen. I never thought to have so much trouble with /men/." She exaggerates the plural, giving a toss of her chestnut head. She stands in the field before the manor with her cousins, chatting idly, all of them having dismounted their horses moments before. "Give me horses any day."

"You can have horses aplenty, but none of them will give you your own children, Thea," Heulwen replies in jest, stooping to fetch up Ffionn's reins before the mare can wander off to graze. She pulls the horse in close and rubs her nose affectionately. "Luckily you don't have to entertain your husband on the daily; he will be off doing his knightly duty, and you can stay behind at home enjoying yourself. I foresee a blissful marriage for myself for that very reason." Her gaze cuts to Kamron, and she lifts her eyebrows slightly. "Because happy marriages can overcome any issues if you work at them hard enough. I'm sure you agree, brother, don't you?"

Arian de Laverstock is being looked after by a Dinton — a rather young Dinton, as a matter of fact. This little cousin is perhaps eight or nine, and is giving Arian a tour around the manor with the air of polite grace. They step out together from the manor's building, and the young Dinton flourishes her hand. "And Sarum is… somewhere out there." She then turns and beams up at Arian. "How did I do? I want to do well."

Arian is all smiles in a gown of woad-dyed blue — a tired-looking gown meant for riding or other outdoor activities, but still modest and simple which has always been the Lady knight's style. The swordbelt is what really captures the look. "You did very well, I will make sure to pass that along if asked." And then the Laverstock's eyes catch sight of the cluster of older Dinton cousins. She side-whispers to the young Dinton. "You don't need to introduce me this time… I know these three." She offers a gentle bow to the girl, who curtsies back, and then she steps away to meet the three adults so the young cousin can go scampering off to the chores that Arian had interrupted.

Kamron waves off Amalthea's chuckling words, "A matter of time only, Thea. Unless you think that your betrothed may not live up to the high measures of our family." The mention of the plural, however, causes him to narrow his eyes a little playfully, then shake it off, "You will have horses every day, Thea. No one is going to take them away from you." He nods slowly at Heulwen's arch words to him, "Indeed. Just about anything worthwhile is difficult." And then his guest arrives, and Kamron looks over his shoulder, offering up a smile to the page and to Arian, "Coz, Sir Arian."

Amalthea is just about to reply, probably something to do with horses and men being ill-tempered and indecisive, but she bites her tongue as she notes the newest arrival to their little group. There is, for the very astute, a flicker of disapproval cast between Kamron and Arian, and it leads to the stablemaster's polite, reserved greeting. "Good day to you, sir Arian. What brings you to Dinton?"

One of the boys tending to the stables in Amalthea's absence scurries out to take the reins from Heulwen's hands, and she jumps in startlement as she realizes her poor horse has been standing there this whole time straining to graze on some grass. "Ah, poor Ffionn. I apologize!" she calls after the mare before turning back to the conversation at hand. Her arms cross over her chest, and she turns the arch look from Kamron to Amalthea as if ready to perhaps chastise her cousin for something as well; however, Arian's disappearance is an interruption - albeit a pleasant one.

"Ah, Sir Arian!" Wennie greets cheerfully, loosening her arms and holding them out to Arian in a gesture of 'please let me hug you'. "So lovely to see you again, and in one whole piece. Truly, dear Thea, it's quite the miracle when a knight returns to us with all of her limbs. And I see you've been given the tour?"

Arian checked her awareness of 10, she rolled 17.

Arian is all dimples and laughter when Heulwen offers the hug, and she steps into it with an easy squeeze between two companionable Ladies — and probably conspirators, if Kamron knows any better. She is so distracted by the embrace and welcome, she does not catch the disapproval from the other Dinton woman. She then steps back, and offers Kamron a smile and a nod of greeting. "Sir Kamron…" Then she gestures behind her after the young Dinton. "Oh yes, quite readily… I saw the stables… twice… particularly after I mentioned the foals we have running around the Laverstock fields."

You check your awareness at 9, you rolled 1.

The reaction from the Stablemistress may go unnoticed by the Laverstock, but at least one Dinton notices, his smile dimming a little as Kamron studies his cousin, then moves around to give her a one-armed hug, "I invited Sir Arian and her squire along. I needed someone to distract Newt so that he did not drop all of my clothes and armor." Gesturing across to Arian, he adds, "I didn't mention that the Laverstocks have a fine herd of horses, did I, Thea?" At least one other Dinton is glad to see Arian, and Kamron shakes his head in amusement as he watches the two women greet one another.

There is a crowd in front of Dinton manor, today! Heulwen is hugging Arian, Kamron is squeezing Amalthea one-armed, and the squires are treating with the stable boys to see who can tend to horses fastest. It's not overly warm, despite the late summer day, as it slowly gives way to a cooler evening. "I did not know that, no," Amalthea replies guardedly, turning her golden dark eyes to Kamron. "It must be a pleasant place, for you to spend so much time there, to know that."

Cyndeyrn very likely returned with most of the others sent to the border, with his own horses to tend to and his own few scrapes and bruises, if nothing warranting terrible concern. After that, he set off to speak with the miller, who had been seeking him or his father on some official business for a few days and had grown a little impatient in waiting, and thus returns a little bit later, his expression being just what one might imagine the result of a couple hours of conversation with a miller to be. Still, it brightens slightly with the gathering of people out front. "Cousins," he greets them in convenient plural, and then adds for the apparent visitor, or perhaps someone who just accompanied them back! "Ah, and Sir Arian."

"Ah, of course, the Laverstocks are a stop along the way to the manor Falt - our mother's family," Heulwen observes, glancing up the sky rather than looking to any of the faces here. If she's picking up on any subliminal signals, she is steadfastly avoiding acknowledging any of them. Instead, she smiles cheerfully and claps her hands together, opening her mouth as if to continue the line of conversation with regard to fine horseflesh. The appearance of yet another cousin, the beloved Cyndeyrn, draws her attention away and her smile brightens. "Good day, my lord cousin!" she greets, refraining from tackling him with a hug out of respect for his dignity. "We've quite the little party going now."

"My uncle Gareth was an unlanded knight before marrying my aunt Nimue… his family has been breeding chargers and rouncies for generations. My grandfather was more than happy to see a cost-effective way to outfit our house knights," Arian explains. She then turns her attention toward Cyndeyrn as he joins them, and she steps up to offer him out her arm in a knightly greeting. Should he clasp her arm, she'll offer a companionable squeeze. "We have not crossed paths in a long while, Sir Cyndeyrn." She dimples. "Good to see you again."

Kamron laughs easily at Amalthea's words, shaking his head, but Heulwen beats him to the point, and he gestures in her direction before adding "I stopped by once, on the way to Falt. They're good people though, the Laverstocks." Arian gets a crooked grin there, "Solid knights, good family dynamic." Which means they tease the heck out of one another. "And yes, as Sir Arian said, good horses and a willingness to do what is right for the family." Cyndeyrn's arrival causes Kamron to grin more evenly and broadly, giving Amalthea another quick squeeze of the shoulders and then Kamron moves across to offer his arm to his male cousin after Arian greets him, "Deyr. Glad to see that you've made it back from the front as well… which front have you been at? I was down south around Ebble, but I heard there was a mission up to Nogales."

Once again about to respond, Amalthea makes the mistake of casting her gaze towards the stables. It's like a siren's pull, and her eyes settle on the stable boys who lead the horses away. "Erm. Yes. Falt. Chargers. Very… nice… Cyndeyrn." She's already starting to edge back towards the stables, creeping away as if her disappearance could be at all subtle. "Just… going to… check… things… back… soon…"

"It does seem that way," Cyndeyrn echoes after Heulwen, noting the large gathering, although as most are family it is nothing all -too- strange. "A celebration for our safe return from the border, perhaps? Sadly, the first thing waiting for me was manor business put off in the interim, rather than a happy greeting, but I'll take one of the delayed variety just as gladly." Then turning to Arian, he will indeed walk up and make a proper greeting of the visiting knight, as such a thing does suggest a certain obligation toward formal representation of the family, even if most expect she may, sooner or later, end up part of it! "I suppose not. Have you been about on patrol as well of late? Between the Saxons, Cornwall, and other raiding, the Earl must have every knight busy. In any case you look well, so gladly you have come through it all unharmed." And to Kamron then: "Near Ebble as well, we were together in one battle at least, although elsewhere before and maybe after, perhaps, with all the scrambling to keep up with things." Amalthea does get a smile, although her retreat he doesn't hinder.

"Do be well, dear Thea," Heulwen calls after the girl before turning back to the group at large. She listens wide-eyed to Cyndeyrn's brief description of his whereabouts and doings, but otherwise falls silent as the knights discuss their knightly things. She smiles politely to her cousin and then to her brother and Arian, drifting backward a step or two so as to not impede the flow of conversation while her own mind wanders much like her attention does. A young bird appears to be circling the stables, and she watches it curiously to see whether or not it will land.

"Be well, Lady Amalthea," the Laverstock says in farewell. Then her attention returns to the other Dintons still about. "Oh, a little here and a little there," Arian laughs lightly when Deyr asks after what she has been up to. "Bringing forth the King's justice." Or Earl's as the case may be. "And also engaged in hunting Saxons after the attacks on Sarum." She sobers a bit. "I'm glad to see that you have come through equally well." She glances toward Heulwen as her attention drifts, and even Arian is looking up after the bird with faint curiosity. Then she looks back at Wen, then to Kamron, and she offers a wry smile.

Kamron chuckles as Amalthea slinks out, lifting a hand in farewell. Shifting his shoulders in his mail, he looks back to the rest of the group. Cyndeyrn's correction of his location causes him to blink, and then laugh, nodding, "Why yes, we were indeed. There's always so much chaos going on in a battle. Or I was merely distracted." Gesturing toward the manor itself, Kamron says, "Shall we go in? Or find somewhere comfortable to sit down? Anywhere that I can get out of this mail? I feel like I've been in it all summer." An exaggeration, of course, but one given with a slight grin.

"I think it would not be out of place to head in, doff your gear, and have a bite to eat," Cyndeyrn agrees, and the sweep of his look as he suggests it surely includes Arian in the invitation, as again, such little formalities fall on his shoulders. "It has been many things keeping us busy," he continues on then, the words no doubt applicable both to Kamron and Arian alike. "I cannot say I can keep track of every skirmish and incursion, let alone who was present at every one of them. At least the Saxons have not launched any further raids of size. Perhaps the loss we gave them has given whatever aethling stirs them up some cause to reconsider, or at least seek targets less bravely defended."

Heulwen smiles briefly to the group and then waves a hand when both Kamron and Cyndeyrn suggest moving indoors. "I will follow behind shortly, but it is unlikely you will need me. I have very little to contribute to this talk of battle, but I do have a question or two for Thea regarding Ffionn. I'll just be in the stables, and I will catch you up eventually." With this, she dips a brief curtsey to everyone. "Welcome home, dear cousin and brother, and welcome to our home, Sir Arian. Please, rest well." Turning on her heel, Heulwen traipses off toward the stables with hair and skirts flouncing in the breeze.

Arian bows her head gently at the invitation, and she smiles. "Sounds wonderful, thank you." She pauses to wish Heulwen farewell before she steps inside with the other two knights. She tilts her head as they step inside, though she no longer pretends she has not been within these halls thrice now. She seems comfortable, though does not presume anything as a guest. "The Saxons are not pushing very hard this season… which only makes me worried about the supposed lull of Winter. Imagine if they decided not to retreat home for the cold months but still stalk our doors in snow and ice."

Kamron nods at Cyndeyrn, "I like to think that our little counter-raid had something to do with that, but I think it has more to do with the fact that half of their army is scattered around Salisbury and Hampshire and another third is dead." Giving a wave to Heulwen as she departs, he starts to make his way into the manor, nodding to Arian, "It could be a hard winter indeed, Sir Arian. Between the Cornish, the Dorsetshiremen, and the Saxons, to say nothing of the Picts and our own people who will fall back to banditry rather than starve, it could be a hard winter indeed." And then he lets a smile spread across his lips, "But… it will also be a happy summer, I think, with all these marriages taking place."

So with that, they are able to make their collective way within. For Cyndeyrn's part, he asks for some bread, cheese and the like to be brought out of the one woman working within, sufficient basic fare. As the weather is warm, the fires are not going, although most do have embers from whenever the last meal was cooking, sufficient to warm something else up if anyone makes a special request of it. "It would seem very poor choice of strategy for them to overextend themselves like that," the man opines of the saxons wintering nearer by. "They are without proper supply, depending on raiding, and we have stymied the most aggressive of those efforts. We could launch small attacks and return home to warm, while they would suffer in their camps. But aye, the nearer threats give me more concern there, as they do not need risk so much to venture out." Of course, the mention of the impending weddings does cause the larger Dinton a slight glance off. "In the summer and fall as well, it seems there will be a great many. I suppose for some, seeing the Saxons has encouraged them not to be lax or lazy in doing what they can with their time in this life."

"I'm sure that even the Saxons feel the harshness of Winter when it comes," Arian says softly as she finds herself a seat with the Dintons. She gently smooths out her skirts, and then focuses her attention on the pair. "But…" Then she offers a kinder smile at the mention of the weddings, and she nods. "Even Laverstock will be having their own share." Some against the bounds of propriety, but she isn't going to mention that now. "My brother Lainn is expected to wed soon, as is my cousin Aldreda. A good balance." She tilts her head. "With so many Ladies leaving the Dintons, though, I imagine that your father will be looking to find marriages for the men of your house."

Newt enters the hall not long after the knights, and Kamron beckons the squire over to get his assistance in pulling off his surcoat and then drawing his hauberk over his head, the knight shimmying a little to slip out of the shining steel coat of rings. "Oh, I've no doubt that they'll suffer if they stay, and I pray to God that they're as sensible as you, Deyr." The first words are muffled a little from within the hauberk, but then he straightens out, hopping a little with the weight lifted from his shoulder, and then finding a bench to put one foot after the other up, untying his chausses, shucking them, and passing them off to Newt. The discussion passes and moves neatly, and a little smile touches one corner of his lips, "I can well understand them, the knights and ladies who have seen how immaterial life can be, and who have gone chasing after marriage so readily." His eyes cut over to Arian, and he chuckles softly, "you know I've never been one to chase after any such thing, but I've been thinking that our current marriages actually only tie us to half of Salisbury." Newt's eyes widen, and he looks between Kamron and Arian as the knight continues, "Do you know if Uncle Cynfarch has had any thought to making alliances to the Pagan houses that stand beside us? The more reputable ones, at least…"

For several moments, Cyndeyrn will sit listening to the pair banter their own thoughts on marriage back and forth. Although often somewhat… oblivious to such matters, at least in the personal sense of them, the Dinton heir would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to be unawares of what is being hinted at here. So, at some length, he raises a hand. "I, ah, you do not need to… overly belabor the point," he will declare, not angrily, but just to make clear that the message has penetrated his (sometimes blessedly, sometimes not) thick skull. "I am sure father would be ammenable if Kamron could make some sort of match, in terms of the alliance it might bring, even if such things are ever more questionable for the unlanded men. Perhaps your raiding has been profitable. He will look, I suspect, to balance the exchange of ladies, so that we do not suffer too badly from sending off dowries. Of course, I think he would also be concerned for some basic… well, proprieties of our own, as such things go." Whether this is really the father's mind or Cyndeyrn's is hard to make out, although perhaps the former might be one, an the latter another, more in the form of a useful bit of advice, even if not spoken as such.

The Laverstock cannot hide her slight surprise as Kamron opens up the conversation. She takes in a deep breath, and knots her fingers together in her lap. She is quiet for a long moment, listening to Cyndeyrn's reply to Kamron's inquiry. She then tilts her head slightly as she regards Cyndeyrn. "And perhaps more so if the Pagan in question agrees to a traditional Dinton wedding—" Or Christian, in other words. "and to make sure that any Dinton children are raised in the Dinton faith." She is not completely stupid it would seem. She relaxes her fingers a bit, and tilts her head slightly. "And obviously if the dowry brings in funds or armaments for House Dinton, all the better." Arian is by no means being sly, but definitely is keeping her forwardness in check.

Kamron shrugs a little helplessly at Cyndeyrn's concerns, nodding along with them, "I thought of those worries, actually, Deyr. Which is why I suggested the raid to Sussex, and part of the reason why I took a position within the Earl's Court." He gestures over to Arian at the mention of religion, "Of course, that would be the primary concern." He laughs for a moment, and just comes out with it, "It may not be quite proper to do this with an audience, but I was wondering if you thought your father might be willing to speak to House Laverstock, they of the great horse herd and doughty knights, to arrange a marriage between myself and Sir Arian, supposing that she will agree to the points that…" he grins here, "…Sir Arian just agreed to, and supposing that the dowry was agreeable."

Of course, Arian hits promptly upon the point not outright spoken, and Cyndeyrn nods his agreement, probably happy not to have to beat around the bush too much! "For it to be otherwise would be a concern, but with those basic things in mind, I cannot imagine a reason for outright disapproval." Of what all Kamron adds to it, he slowly nods. "It is more difficult to find marriages for male cousins generally, so I can see him finding advantage in the circumstances, and of course being happy for your initiative in bettering both your own fortunes and the family's in the end. In the dowry, alliance, and even in gaining another sword, as the case might be…" He will pretend he wasn't 100 percent sure Arian was the subject until at least Kamron goes ahead and says it, "since it is likely that Lady Seren will eventually take over the manor's management from mother. So it seems there is a good bit to be gained by it, in my estimation of the matter. I'm happy to express it to father, though I cannot account for any other reservations he might hold." Not that he can think of any to list, but it is still the reality of the situation, that he can only lean, not decide himself.

Arian actually finds herself blushing when Kamron just gets right to it. She offers a quick nod of agreement to Kamron's request, showing she is not surprised by his words. Then she looks back to Cyndeyrn. "There is no doubt in my mind that Sir Trystan and my father will provide the Dintons with a fair dowry… particularly if your father wishes to strengthen and outfit your own house knights." Then she breathes out a slow exhale, and her entire frame seems to relax. "Your support is appreciated, Sir Cyndeyrn… and welcomed." She glances to Kamron, and her smile is ghostly, but still present all the same.

Kamron finds himself tense and nervous as he awaits Cyndeyrn's response, but the nod and the actual words cause him to let out a hissing sigh of relief. A little chuckle rises to his lips, and he glances to Arian, then back to his cousin, "Thank you, Deyr. If you brought it up to Uncle it might seem…" And here his chuckle takes a rueful cast, "…less self-serving. It means a great deal to me… to us," again, the little glance to Arian, "…that you are open to it, and that you think Uncle will be open to it. Then, at some point, I just have to face the ridicule of the Laverstock boys when they find out we're trying to arrange this."

For the largest part, Cyndeyrn seems happy to give his blessing, such as it is worth, and perhaps most of all so he can dispense with the topic! Not that he is not friendly enough toward the pair, but obviously he enjoyed the prior talk of Saxon raiding in preference to discussion of this sort. "My father will not miss the self-interest, yours taken to him by proxy or otherwise, but as long as there is family interest also I cannot see why he would be an obstructionist on the matter. We are none, whatever our history, so high and mighty that we can act above ourselves and scoff at common sense when it is presented." Then, with a smirk, "Whatever ridicule I will leave you to manage on your own part, however."

Arian joins Kamron looking relieved and a bit more comfortable here in the Dinton house. She brushes her fingers down her skirt, giving the blue material a small tug. Then she starts to stand, bowing her head slightly to Cyndeyrn as she does. "I hope you will both excuse me… I promised Heulwen that we would spend time together next I visited." She pauses, and then smiles gently. "Thank you, Sir Cyndeyrn, for your hospitality… as always." Her gaze passes over Kamron, lingering a moment to offer a small smile, and then she starts to step away.

Kamron shrugs a little helplessly at Cyndeyrn, "If Sir Arian can manage their jibes well enough, I suppose that I can as well." As Arian rises, he smiles over at her, "But whatever will you talk about now, Sir Arian, that you are not conspiring together?" Still, he nods a farewell and looks back to his cousin, stepping over to the side of the table with the food delivered to it, "I wonder if Dorset was just looking for an excuse, or if Sir Sior's trial and execution were really enough to anger them to the point of invasion."

"I would suspect the former," Cyndeyrn will offer, between the two possibilities behind the foreign invasion. "A single knight… well, unless he was of extremely connected parentage or position, I cannot see such a thing being reasonablec ause for any sane lord to take up war. But to a lord who wished it, it would be sufficient pretext for just cause." Then a shrug. "Not that I am privy to the politics in any more detail than what is most commonly known. I do try and take advantage of my time with the Earl, now, in learning of such things, but the distance between his world and my own still feels quite great." Here he will rise, taking up a hunk of bread gone untouched. "I've yet another stop to make with the baker, catching up on matters gone unmanaged while we were all off. But I will present your case to my father at first instance, and hopefully we will soon have another Dinton wedding in the making."

Kamron nibbles at some crumbs of cheese as his cousin speaks, nodding his agreement, "I expect the same, and I must admit that it relieves me somewhat. I would hate to have been the cause of this bloodshed for my pursuit of justice on Sir Sior." Shifting his shoulders as if readjusting some great weight, he grunts a little and shakes the thought off, "Thank you, Deyr. Really. I never thought I'd be asking anything of the sort but…" He shrugs a little helplessly, "…God works in mysterious ways. Stay safe, and God go with you. I've a trip north to the Littleworth area to make before I return south, on the Earl's business, but I'll hurry back to face the men of Dorset as soon as I can."

Cyndeyrn gives a short nod. "I'd not let it weigh on your own conscience, in any case, as you did only your own duty." Leaving those words to buttress his cousin's spirit, he lifts his hand (bread and all) and draws off a step. "Wait till father weighs in to thank me for the rest, though I'm happy enough to be what aid I can be. God keep you on your own journies, then!" And with that, he's off, nibbling his meal as he goes on to whatever tedium awaits.

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