(514-08-23) On the Way to Devizes
Summary: Lysanor de Dinton travels on a mission to Devizes, with a number of capable knights as escorts. None of which will be needed for her to deal with an impertinent pair of trophy collectors.
Date: August 23rd, 514
Related: None.
lysanor cyndeyrn bryce joachim 

Thanks for running the scene:


Lysanor has been entrusted with a sealed letter, meant for the Lord Knight of Devizes, who is supposed to oversee the northern borders. It was advised by the courier in question to keep a degree of secrecy of intended purpose and destination.

Once she has assembled her entourage, the four find themselves down an expansive road, headed straight north. The path is mostly clear, and the sky appears cloudless and light blue as ever.

After a few hours of journeying, the four might find themselves in a bit of a strange predicament: a knight, judging by his tattered tabard, clutching his chin, which is bleeding somewhat. There are wisps of his beard on the ground, and judging by how disheveled his clothes appear, perhaps the suit of chainmail he was wearing was also stripped from him.

Joachim checked his heraldry of 10, he rolled 15.
Lysanor checked her heraldry of 3, she rolled 2.
Bryce checked his Heraldry of 6, he rolled 7.
Joachim checked his prudent of 10, he rolled 2.
Cyndeyrn checked his heraldry of 8, he rolled 2.

As requested by his betrothed Lysanor, Bryce de Baverstock is among the group of knights accompanying her on her diplomatic mission to Devizes, far up North. The knight who impresses more with his angular features than with an impressive height which he does not have, sits on his black charger going by the name of Devil, riding beside the lady in question, he of course clad in armor and with his sword hanging from his belt at the ready. In appropriate distance rides his squire Carl on his dapple grey rouncey, the red-blonde freckled visage twisted into an attitude of attention. The journey had been rather tranquil so far. Until that strange sight occurs before them, and the group is forced to a halt. Bryce eyes the man beside the road with a flicker in his dark eyes. "Poor man. But if he's indeed a knight. Where is his armor?"

Joachim checked his awareness of 10, he rolled 13.

Having taken the mission to travel to the northlands in order to spend time with family and friends and perhaps look for reason to visit some of the Northern houses, Joachim is on the flank of the grouping, the knight keeping his hands on reins as he notices the man in the road and brings his charger up short, moving to dismount with caution, but his eyes are scanning the nearby countryside, worried of possible bandit activity. However, he eventually stands down to wait to see how the others address the situation.

As it is the lovely Lysanor de Dinton (for a little while longer anyway) who is responsible for this bit of courier work, the young woman finds no difficulty in securing the escort of several devoted young knights of high caliber! Apart from her intended, who has obviously his own reasons for worrying over her safety, her ever-protective brother is also in attendance. Given the presence of the former, Cyndeyrn does not ride -too- close to his sister, leaving that place of honor for his long time friend, neighbor, and future in-law, but places himself a little further ahead, no doubt to make himself the first target of any danger they might stumble upon, and perhaps provide some cover to his sister and others behind, by virtue of his general largeness! His own squire is closer, as trailing too far back might also cause him to intrude on Bryce and his sister. But it is not danger the group encounters first, or seemingly not so at least, but rather what seems the aftermath of some incident. Holding up a hand to give his squire and any behind who do not spot him immediately warning to slow, he will then look down on the man. "Sir? Ah, Sir Dafydd, is it? Do you still live?" And when some movement suggests that fact, he wonders further, "What misfortune has befallen you? I am Sir Cyndeyrn de Dinton, traveling with my sister, Lady Lysanor, and her other companions, on a mission from the Earl."

Riding among family and some who are soon to be family, Lysanor has found the journey to Devizes, thus far, to be a pleasant if uneventful one. As uneventful as it is, she does find time to bask in the beauty that nature has to offer as they move from one manor to the next. The vibrant flowers still in full bloom brighten up the countryside and though the heat of the day may bring some discomfort for such a long ride, they are blessed with a cooling breeze now and again when a gust of wind passes through the area. Dressed in her family colors, her unruly curls tamed, for the moment, in a thick, loose braid which rests before one shoulder, Lysanor looks comforted to be in such company… even though the sight of a downed knight is what finally ruins their rather uneventful journey. From her vantage point, of course, she attempts to assess his condition, though there is very little that she can do from atop her horse. "He looks to be in bad shape." She says, before gesturing for one of the squires, perhaps, to assist her down from her own steed, Snow White.

Dark eyes flash with a hint of worry when Lysanor seems inclined to dismount, but indeed, it will be Bryce who will give his squire the required nod of approval and even a gesture as to get on with it when Carl shoots him an inquiring glance; while the Baverstock remains ahorse, studying their surroundings with a wary gaze. Carl meanwhile dismounts from his rouncey and then moves to assist Lady Lysanor in her own task of dismounting, offering her a hand and maybe two, if required.

"I was challenged," Dafydd speaks, from his place on the floor. The bleeding has only receded a little as he presses his palm against the open wound, a grimace on his face. "By a pair of knights. I beat one, then the other beat me. Then they took my beard and said it was an offering to their lord. I didn't recognize where they hail from. Silchester, maybe."

"They went to Up Avon," he continues, though he asks, afterwards, "I need to head east," to Middle Wallop, evidently, "can you help me? They also took my charger."

Lysanor checked her firstaid of 14, she rolled 17.
Lysanor checked her awareness of 9, she rolled 18.

As Cyndeyrn is ahead to begin with, and seeing that his sister seems to intend to render aid, he urges his steed a few steps closer and then pauses to dismount as well, moving to follow along after Lysanor and make sure she is not troubled as she sees to the man. It may allow them to converse a little less awkwardly as well. "So you accepted the challenge from the both of them?" He means to be sure this was not some matter of one jumping in improperly. "What were the terms of the challenge, then?" While the man's position may be unfortunate, chivalrous matches by the roadside are common enough, and they can carry terms and ransoms just like any other!

With the help from Bryce's squire, Carl, Lysanor lands lightly upon the ground and takes several careful steps towards the wounded man. Carl is right there when she crouches down beside the unarmored knight and while she does note the blood from one of his wounds, from her perspective, it has already stopped bleeding. "Do you need any water or something to drink, Sir Dafydd de Middle Wallop?" Though there is something strange that is mentioned and this she must echo with a note of curiosity in her tone, "They cut off your… beard?" Perhaps, it's the first that she's heard of this at least. "Or is that some sort of keepsake for them to remind them of their victory?" Whether the man accepts the offer of water or not, the red-headed Dinton offers her flask, though here she looks towards the others realizing that they have a few options to take.

"I didn't have much of a choice of saying no, seeing as I am heading home to be wed," the knight replies to Cyndeyrn, "and my wedding is the day after tomorrow," he takes in a deep breath, as though it's laborious to inhale some air, before he continues.

"The wager was what you'd expect: ransom. The other drew as soon as he challenged me so it's not like I had much of a choice to decline, as it were. But they took more than ransom. They mentioned this was a trophy. To their lord and master. I don't understand why."

As for Lysanor's question, he nods, "I need water, yes, please. Or wine. This hurts."

"Up Avon?" Joachim frowns, as he looks to Lysanor as she's rendering aid, already on foot as the knight starts to ask about the very thing Cyndeyrn does, and falls quiet when he's beat to the punch as it were. He moves to remount his charger, allowing the siblings to handle the situation for the moment as he frowns. "They did not say who their lord was?" he asks. Taking his waterskin from his saddle, he hands it to Lysanor to pass over to the man. "Did you notice any colors or designs on their armor?"

"Your wedding…?", comes the echo from atop the black charger Devil, where the Baverstock knight sits. "And this wedding is to be held at your home, Sir Dafydd? At Middle Wallop?" His voice shows a hint of concern but also curiosity. And while it may be odd to inquire about such matters in the current situation of the injured and unwillingly barbered knight, Bryce inquires: "Who is your intended, Sir?"

Lysanor has water in her skin at the moment and this is offered to the man in the mean time, though she does rise to return to her horse where she retrieves a wineskin from within the satchel which hangs upon the pure white steed. Bryce's own inquiry does come as some surprise when the question is asked, but only because Lysanor felt that she was the one being silly, having such frivolous thoughts about whom the man would be wed to. Returning to his side, she switches the water with wine and awaits for the man to respond to the questions posed, though she does note, "We were on our way to Devizes to begin with. Up Avon is simply along a similar route." Though this is spoken to the others in the group, rather than to Daffyd himself, probably hinting that he may be sent home all by his lonesome.

Although Cyndeyrn will nod as the knight explains his plight, he does not react overly with any sense of outrage. Even if the men did somewhat force the challenge, such things do happen! The man could have turned about, attempted another route, or so forth, if he was truly unwilling to fight them! Standing by the knight as Lysanor goes and fetches him some drink, he nods an echo of her own thoughts. "We cannot turn from our course, but I imagine we might find time to stop along the way, especially as we might need to find somewhere to rest before making the final leg of the trip. We might at least inquire after the whole affair. If you are unable to accompany us, we could seek you out later if we are able to recover your steed or any of your arms. And for your own trip, perhaps lend you a spare horse."

"Alis de Nether Wallop," the knight of Middle Wallop replies to Bryce, though he focus on Joachim's questions, shaking his head. "They wouldn't say. And yes, they had a black and an argent lion rampant on a field of red."

Lysanor's remark has the the man quiet for a moment, then resigned, then hopeful again when Cyndeyrn speaks. "Very well. Thank you, Sir." He but he sips from the waterskin nevertheless, deeply. He might have lost some blood as a result from the fighting; he is not, however, in mortal danger just yet.

"You should get home swiftly then, Sir Dafydd," Bryce says with a faint smile. "As not to keep your bride waiting. Middle Wallop… is not too far away, I trust? And… those two knights you've mentioned. Have you met them before? Was there anything else that was remarkable about them - apart from their tabards?" A pause, when more questions come to mind. "Did you ever venture northwards, to Up Avon? Would you know someone there who could have cause to… delight in the trophy those two took from you? Like… an old acquaintance or enemy?"

When Joachim's offer of his waterskin to Lysanor goes unnoticed, he gives a self-deprecating shrug and sets it back in place. Things seem well in hand for the moment, before he considers and adds. "If we are near Up Avon, then one of the closer houses would be Willcott - they share the same faith as many of us do, and would be able to offer aid at least until Sir Dafydd is capable of riding again." He's trying to think of what houses may be closest to where they are.

Now that the man's thirst is sated, Lysanor works to at least clean out Daffyd's wound so that it doesn't become infected and then begins to bandage the knight up. "Still, I hope that you do make it home for your wedding and if not, that it can be rescheduled. The way to Middle Wallop is still quite a distance." She knows that much, for they have been on the road for a time themselves. Once the wound is bandaged, she decides to leave the wineskin in the hands of the Middle Wallop knight, for she won't need it as much as he will during the course of his journey and stands to rise, straightening her diminutive frame to full height. Now, she isn't certain as to who will be volunteering their horse to the man nor whether any of the squires will need to share, but she will leave that up to Cyndeyrn and the others. When her cousin suggests they journey to one of the manor houses close to Up Avon, she does turn back to Dafyyd, to note whether the man wishes to linger longer or try to make his wedding.

Bryce's question is met with the shake of his head. "I never saw those men before."

Going over to his squire, Joachim glances at him. "Go ahead and dismount. You can double up with me. Let Sir Daffyd have your mount so he can make his wedding, and we will pray and trust that it's returned to us." Turning his attention to the knight. "A man should not keep his bride waiting. I will hope that the investment is returned in blessings for you and yours and the mount finds its way back to Newton's stables."

Bryce glances towards Joachim, impressed obviously by the generous gesture of the knight. His gaze shifts to Carl, who looks towards the Baverstock with a relieved grin. Spared this time from giving up his dear dapple grey. "That is quite the gesture, Sir Joachim. You shame us all with your generosity," the Baverstock knight remarks then with a faint smile. "But I agree. Sir Dafydd should get home in time for his wedding." Even without a proper beard.

Sir Dafydd thanks Joachim's generosity, mounting on the squire's horse before looking to the man in the eye and stating, "I have a debt with you. Call on me anytime, and I will go to your summons." Then, he is off to take the eastern road, in order to detour from the path and make for Middle Wallop. Bryce's question is replied to with a shake of his head

It's sunset, and the group has arrived as far north as the manor of Enford. A quiet settlement, it appears that most of the townsfolk have retreated into their homes after the end of the day's activities.

Bidding the Middle Wallop knight farewell, Lysanor watches as the man rides off, before turning to the others as she is helped back upon her own horse. "My cousin has always had a generous heart. I can't say that I've never benifitted from his generosity." And here she flashes a smile to both before they continue their way to Ensford. Once there, it would do the travelers well to find a place to stay for the evening, or at least share a meal, if they dared to venture further during the night, despite the tales told of the area. "I am curious as to who these knights are and where they hail from." She comments to the group as a whole.

Once the man is off, Cyndeyrn remounts and continues on as they make as far as they can in the day, eventually ending in Ensford. "We might well inquire if the men that challenged him had passed this way," he suggests, even as they are approaching. "Or even be on watch that they have not stopped here as well, as it feels as though we came upon the man not too long after his encounter. Although there are further manors yet upriver of this one, and with their lead, they might well have continued on a bit further." Once they arrive in the village proper, he will dismount, leaving his horse to his squire, waiting for the other knights before starting toward the manor house.

Having to double up does slow down Joachim, but the offer was made with the faith of sharing the blessings he has himself. The knight smiles only faintly at Lysanor's praise. Arriving in Ensford, the knight spends a little extra time at the stables to see if there may be an extra horse available for his squire so they do not have to continue to double up as he nods to Cyndeyrn. "It sounds like a good plan, cousin." he responds as he finally dismounts as well.

"We have the description of their tabards," Bryce remarks evenly, as he allows his gaze to drift over the manor and the various buildings, before he dismounts, keeping Devil by the reins.at first, before he hands them to Carl. "There should be a stable somewhere…" A faint smile is given to his squire, and then the Baverstock moves to assist his betrothed with her horse, like a dutiful betrothed should.

Enford is not particularly prosperous. The people here are lazy, and do not take well to working overlong in the fields. They make use of their proximity of the river to have large, bountiful tracts of land.

The Manor Hall is quiet, with a loud snore being plainly heard from the inside, though there are also sounds of a woman, giggling, and the faint voice of a man.

Overall, it doesn't look like the Saxons have molested this settlement at all in their path of destruction.

As much as she enjoys nice strolls out atop a horse, Lysanor cannot wait to dismount and be on solid ground again. An appreciative smile is flashed in the Baverstock's direction when he helps her off of Snow White and down safely. Often times, with the sun still out for much longer during the summer season, workers would still be tending the field… or back home in Dinton they would be, to take advantage of the daylight, so it is odd here to see so many have retreated back home or to a pub or inn of sorts. "There doesn't seem to be very many people here." Is Lysanor's first comment on the absence of the farmers and the like when they rode passed the fields just earlier. But taking her brother's lead, she trails behind him towards the manor, all the while curiously eyeing such a laid-back village.

It's a weird change for Joachim - after all, his whole home was relocated after the Saxon attack, and he can't help but to wonder if things would have been better if they had come out better as this village has. "Perhaps it is some local holiday that we're not aware of for the village and manor itself, Lysanor?" Joachim suggests, though he shakes his head. "Something doesn't feel quite right, however." He lifts his head at the sounds from the manor house. "That is.. a godawful sound." he rumbles, the stout man folding his arms across his chest as he continues to lead his charger.

Bryce nods to Lysanor's observations, but even so, he is moving ahead towards the Manor Hall. "It isn't that late yet, is it?", he intones in a side to the others, before he makes his presence known with a determined knock to the door and enters into the glum darkness of the manor hall, that is merely lit by the flickering light of very few torches. "Anyone here?", he asks, as his eyes scan whatever there is to see inside the hall, in search of someone awake enough to answer his questions.

By opening the door, two things are revealed; a couple in the throes of passion, kissing passionately while clothes are being shed, and an old man sleeping at the table, very soundly. The old man, and the young one who is currently kissing a woman who appears a little older than him passionately are both knights, considering the suit of chainmail on the floor and the one the old man is wearing.

But when the Manor is open, of course, the couple stop, and stare, with the young knight stepping onto his scabbard to draw his sword free as he points the blade to them. "Who are you?" He asks in an almost hushed tone — enough to carry through to the door, of course.

The woman? Ran into the room. The Lord of the Manor's room.

Continuing at Bryce's side, Cyndeyrn will take the same approach his friend does, in no rush to startle anyone within and clearly intending to make their unhostile presence known. Of course, as the scene inside is revealed, well, it demonstrates a different sort of quandry and perhaps unfortunately a reason for unwelcomeness, although not of the sort one usually encounters along the road. Whatever one might think of the scene they stumble in on, however, with the interrupted man lifting his blade, any levity or embarrassment in the situation is rather mitigated. Cyndeyrn puts his hand on the hilt of his own sheathed weapon, but glares, rather than drawing it immediately, perhaps puffing up a little to dissuade the young man of rash action, given that he and Bryce - and the others behind them yet, are properly armored. "We are travelers on business of the Earl. I am Sir Cyndeyrn de Dinton. Please do not do anything unwise, especially in your present state of dress."

The sounds coming from inside the manor should be a somewhat telling sign, for there is very little privacy within even their own homes. Still, that does not mean that any of these travelers should quickly expect what they do encounter next and Lysanor is quick to divert her eyes when she does catch even the slightest glimpse of the going-ons. It's a good thing that she is smaller than the men within her party, thus having part of her vision blocked so that she does not have the displeasure of viewing as much as she may have if she stood ahead of the group. Due to some sense of embarrassment, both on her part for being witness to this and towards the couple who they have just happened upon, there is a flush of color that tinges her cheeks, just as she steps back, further from the door as a way to separate herself from interrupted passion within. "Our journey just keeps getting all the more interesting…" She murmurs under her breath.

With Cyndeyrn in the lead with the suggestion and introductions, Joachim just keeps his arms across his chest and shakes his head disapprovingly at the shameful display. And apparently with his Lord's wife. The knight holds his tongue, however, allowing others to speak on their behalf for the time being. He does, however, clear his throat loudly to try to rouse the older knight from his sleep. "The things you learn when you travel outside your comfort zone, Lysanor." he offers with a small smirk to his cousin.

"Sir Bryce de Baverstock," says the same, by way of introduction, as it was he who knocked and entered in the first place. There is a slight twitch of his brows when he becomes aware of just what their rather unsubtle intrusion may have interrupted. He shoots Cyndeyrn a sideways glance, a slight roll of his eyes there, before his attention shifts back to the two knights - and the woman who is hurrying past them. There is little he has to add to Cyndeyrn's clarification. And so his gaze drifts from the young knight to the older one who may still be asleep. The towards the floor of the hall, where the armor has been shed. Perhaps there is a tabard to be glimpsed as well?

"I am Sir Berwyn de Enford." The young knight replies, lowering his sword after Cyndeyrn states who they work for. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" He wonders, a bit perplexed as he lowers to get the scabbard, and slide the sword into it.

"How may I help you, Lady and Sirs?" He inquires, keeping an eye on the old geezer who is soundly asleep. He's still catching his Z's.

"I cannot say that I've ever come across something like this on any of my travels, within my comfort zone or not." Lysanor says with a playfully indignant pout to her cousin and only turns to look over her shoulder at the partially opened door when some form of introduction is made by the knight. She can hearing the snoring coming from within, but most of the rest of it is lost to her. She does not know where the woman had run off to, though she knows there was a woman present and perhaps it's best if she is left ignorant of such things. "I don't know how comfortable I would be to stay here for the evening after, well, after this, but perhaps we will be able to get some information from him." She speaks of the knight of Enford.

"I did knock, Sir," Bryce counters with a raised brow. "But I understand you were perhaps too busy to notice at the time." He dares to cast a glance over his shoulder to see where Lysanor is hiding. If he should catch her gaze, he will offer her a reassuring smile. "Pray… get dressed, Sir Berwyn," he continues then towards the naked knight. "There is a lady about. And we would like to enter." Allowing that to sink in for a moment. "It is evening, and we are looking for a place to stay over night. You are… Sir Berwyn de Enford? Who is your sleeping friend?"

Acwel makes a check for Berwyn Proud at 13, he rolled 4.

"My father, Sir Cadell de Enford," the knight replies, lifting an eyebrow at Bryce's almost quasi-demand to enter. "Is that so? Perhaps, if you ask nicely," he states as he lifts his chin slightly, defiantly, while reaching down to grab his shirt in as most dignified a manner as he can. The woman's garments he kicks towards a door, and they surreptitiously are grabbed by a delicate hand and thus out of sight after a moment.

"There was a knight that came through here recently, perhaps. Sir Dafydd. He was attacked near this village.." While apparently the knights here were engaged in other dalliances. "And left for dishonor. The men that attacked him wore tabards of argent lions on red. As for us, we're travelling to deliver a message at the behest of Earl Robert." Joachim responds finally. "We are here to report this attack within your lands, and to rest for the evening before continuing on our task in the morning, Sir Berwyn." The knight pauses as Bryce speaks up, "Unless you'd rather us the head of the Manor instead?"

Once it is clear that the odd interruption will not be prelude to some greater and more violent misunderstanding, Cyndeyrn relaxes his stance and moves his hand away from his own weapon. "We mean no rudeness by our arrival, good Sir, but given the hour, we did not think it untoward to enter." With manor halls being somewhat public spaces during waking hours, and all. "We would ask no more than somewhere to stay for the eve, until we can continue on toward Upavon and Devizes, where our business calls us." And then, with a brief glance back. "Though we might inquire if any other travelers have passed this way, recently? There was indeed a man along the road who had seemingly encountered a bit of trouble, from men who were also headed in this direction."

Acwel makes a check for Berwyn Recognize at 10, he rolled 13.

"It is alright," Berwyn states, tossing the scabbard to the table, where it skitters to a stop all too close to the sleeping form of his father. He contemplates the gathering, scratches his head, and holds up a hand. "One moment as I call the servants."

When he resurfaces, the servants arrive with some mugs of mead to quench some parched throats and some food to sate hungers. Then the knight comments, "I do not recall any men bearing the heraldry you mentioned, though I know there was something of a group heading north earlier, or so my villagers told me. As for the Sir you mentioned," he looks to Joachim, "that is a shame. Had we known, perhaps we could have assisted the man."

"You may sleep in the hall, my people will provide you with blankets should your bedrolls not suffice. At any rate, the hour grows late and I have…" the knight considers, "other tasks to pay mind to. So if you'll excuse me…"

Bryce's smile is returned and while this is truly an embarrassing moment for all of them, Lysanor, herself, cannot help but find some amusement in the encounter. There is that sense of awkwardness now when they allowed entrance into the manor and the young Dinton simply waits for the others to enter first. It is also odd to her to find the manor so alive, for the fields were so empty just moments ago and then there was the fact that, well, things were happening here before they had just arrived. It was nice of the staff to allow the pair some privacy, she supposes, though when she does get a better look into the main room proper, she is a bit perturbed to see that the sleeping man just happens to be in the same room as… whatever it was that was occurring! "Th.. Thank you. For your hospitality." She murmurs to the already retreating Berwyn, though she tries not to pay him or what he will be engaging in any mind. "That was nice of him." Then to continue on with her own thoughts, she considers, "I'm sure many have traveled this way to reach Up Avon or beyond, but then so did the group who attacked Sir Daffyd. It still does not hint at where they had come from originally and I was hoping that the description of their coat of arms would stir up some memory from a joust or some such."

"Ser Berwyn, we are grateful for the food and drink, and certainly as well to have a roof over our head tonight," Bryce de Baverstock intones as he inclines his head. His dark eyes flit to Cyndeyrn and then to Lysanor - who by now will have entered. "It seems we are on the right track," he muses then, with the knight taking his leave. "A group of knights heading north. It should be interesting to see who we will encounter when we follow the road further - perhaps there will be new hints, new sightings, who knows?" Optimistic words of a tired and hungry Baverstock knight who sits down by the table for some well-deserved food and drink.

"As much as I enjoy a good adventure.." Joachim sighs, snapped back to practicality with his thoughts. "Shouldn't delivering the message that Lysanor was tasked with take precedence over wandering about to try to find these knights? Perhaps once the delivery has been taken care of, we could do so? But I believe that Earl Robert would rather not have us dally."

After spending the night in Sir Berwyn's future-manor, the intrepid knights are given some supplies by way of courtesy (and of shutting them up about whatever they may have seen), before they are sent on their way. They got a basketful of peaches out of it, at least. Nevertheless, they ride further north until noon, where they might spot a couple of knights flying a certain standard. The heraldry that had been described by Dafydd. One of them is currently busy swording down a much younger, lanky knight, while the second looks thoroughly bored.

Lysanor says very little about the incident ever since they disrupted the Ensford heir and he invited them into his home. The night passes on just a touch awkwardly, but the food and the rest was appreciated and while she did not feel comfortable about staying there after what they had encountered, she was glad that they had after the fact. Now that they are packed up once again with even more food to help their journey along, the ride through the morning and now nearing lunch time had been a rather pleasant one even though her cousin's words do tug at her. "You are probably right, dear cousin, though Up Avon looms so closely ahead no—" Here her words are cut off, when she sees the spectacle before them and a very familiar standard. "It might seem that our decision has been made for us."

With the awkwardness mostly behind them, Cyndeyrn passes the rest of the evening normally enough, and the next day they are all bright-eyed and ready to move out once again. With horses rested and peaches acquired, they are soon on the road, continuing in much the fashion of the previous day, and the Dinton knight again riding ahead of his sister, leaving Bryce to provide a closer escort. But as they continue on a ways, it soon becomes clear that little in the way of detective work will be required in figuring out what is going on with these knights along the road. As, well, they travel upon the road and discover the knights. Glancing back toward Bryce and Joachim, he then turns ahead and gives his horse just a little bit of a squeeze to speed up, not into a full run, but enough to make some spectacle of their rapid approach and perhaps get the attention of the men engaged ahead. "What is this?" he'll call out, once near enough to be heard.

After making preparation with the others, Joachim is still settled with his squire as an extra rider. It's not that long before they find themselves finding the very prize that they were looking on the route of their delivery. That's rather, tidy, the knight decides as he glances to see what the group decides, but it's his cousin that makes the decision. As Cyndeyrn picks up the pace, Joachim spurs his horse gently to catch up to his cousin as he works to getting the attention of the knights as well. "I'm not sure, cousin. They don't seem to be shaving each other, after all." the knight comments off-hand as he settles onto his saddle to look to where the two men are preparing.

The meal and the night's rest have done wonders on the Baverstock knight, tired and hungry as he had been on the previous eve. But now he seems to be in the best of spirits, perhaps even more so through the proximity of his betrothed whom Joachim and he have taken in their midst. When the knights ahead are glimpsed, the ease vanishes from the Baverstock's features, and he straightens in the saddle. When Cyndeyrn's spurs his horse on, he follows along, Devil keeping up easily with the steed of his friend. Joachim's jest earns him a faint grin. "We'll see who'll get shaved," he says, before he falls silent, leaving the talking (and questioning) at first to Cyndeyrn de Dinton.

The knight fighting the other apparently strikes a powerful blow to toss the man on his back and bleeding slightly, where he kneels down on the man's chest, produces a dagger and starts cutting a beard from the lanky young fellow. Well, more like a mustache. And as blood slivers out as a result, it must not have been quite the painless process.

The second knight turns about, looking at Cyndeyrn when he calls out. "A challenge between Sirs, good knight. Why, do you wish to fight as well? We are the Fareham brothers and we take anyone on the road wishing a couple extra librum in exchange for a fair fight." But that part may be a lie.

"What do you think, cousin?" Joachim asks Cyndeyrn. "Should we offer a fair fight in response? Two of us, two of them. Family against family." the stout knight says as he offers a smirk, though he's glancing around, making sure there's not more of these.. Farehams.. here to cause more trouble.

Remembering Daffyd's words, Lysanor waits for either of these Fareham brothers to simply draw a weapon on the group as they had done with the Middle Wallop. Perhaps, they refrain due to the size of the group, but either way, the flame-haired Dinton keeps careful watch on the pair of men, before turning to shoot both her brother and cousin a glance as they decide whether to take the men on. "Sir Daffyd said that he was not given a choice on whether to fight. Or, they did not give him the option to say no." She reminds, before her gaze once more lingers on the pair of siblings. "Perhaps they are intimidated." This she does not say overly loud, but to those within her own party.

"Aye, as she says," Cyndeyrn echoes after his sister. "We have encountered another who met you earlier." Eventually, he draws up his horse short of quite riding into them. "And he said nothing of your challenges being limited to those who wished them. Ourselves," and he glances at Joachim, his answer that follows, while aimed at the men ahead as much certainly a comment on his cousin, "We are on a mission for the Earl, and so we would prefer not delay from that important task, nor especially to lose our horses which are required for getting us to our destination. But I wonder, will you allow us along without pressing a challenge all the same?"

"No, we do not let anyone pass unless they have bested us," the Fareham speaking to Cyndeyrn retorts. "The Librum offer is fair, however; fair ransom, considering the cost of this," he reaches for a sleeve of the chainmail, shaking it demonstratively. "So who among you would like to fight?"

Lysanor checked her reckless of 10, she rolled 4.

"And if we decide just to ignore your toll and push our way past?" Joachim retorts, a glance towards his cousins, and soon to be cousin. "The man on the ground may disagree with your.. agreement, as well, I believe. Shall we ask him how 'fair' the two of you are?" the knight suggests as he watches the Farehams warily.

Bryce meanwhile regards the Fareham brothers with obvious disdain, but he stays silent. There is a flicker in his gaze as Cyndeyrn addresses them, as if he perhaps were considering something. "Fair ransom…?", he echoes then, when one of the Farehams clarifies. "In a fair fight you force upon emissaries of the Earl? Are you out of your mind?" He snorts, eyeing the small group of them. "So… how many are there of you? Two? Or even Three?" He casts Joachim and Cyndeyrn another glance.

Somehow, this answer does not surprise Cyndeyrn. "The line between offering fair challenge and banditry is quite thin." And he nods after Bryce. "And you make this demand knowing that you will disrupt the Earl's business." The Dinton did seem willing to entertain the idea that the men are acting honorably, perhaps as the saying goes, giving them the rope to hang themselves. "It seems as though you consider it a fair challenge to make a single man best the both of you," and here glances back pointedly, first toward Bryce, and then toward his cousin, and then again to the men. "And so I would say, if you saw nothing wrong with pitting others against such odds, perhaps you see nothing wrong with the group of us pushing our own better odds against you now? Or perhaps treating you as scoundrels, intent on disrupting the use of the Earl's road."

When told what she had expected to hear from the brothers, Lysanor looks upon first one and then the other with a pointed stare, before urging her own horse forward, her posture all the more rigid now. Out of a sense of pride, if not recklessness, she states clearly to the men, as she means to guide her own horse forward and through their ranks, "I am Lady Lysanor de Dinton, one of Earl Robert's envoys and as my brother had said, we are on a mission for the Earl. So truly, will you not let us pass?" She will only stop in her forward journey if one of the men takes action against her and that will be met with a disapproving look of stubbornness on the young woman's part.

"The Lady may pass." The Farehams state, almost as if in unison. They stare at eachother with a strange expression after that, before turning to Cyndeyrn. "Criminals? No, you see us harassing merchants? Stopping women and children from passing? By anyone, we mean anyone who matters to us, Sir. As knights, we shall fight knights. This is a tried and true custom. So, shall we?"

"We are the lady's sworn escorts, and without us, she faces unknown peril upon the road," Cyndeyrn replies, seemingly unbothered. "But you have heard what we have to say. If you intent to waylay us, regardless of our consent, then we will meet you on the terms we please, just as you force your own on others. And realize we will consider how to deal with you, as agents of the Earl, once we are finished."

"Now you are only holding us back." Lysanor says from her place beyond the path as she was allowed to cross. "Unless the both of you wish to escort me all the way to Devizes." Her words come out sharp as she is not amused by these men's attempt at bullying. "I mean, really, come along now, if you want to keep my bodyguards behind. We do not have much time and we will all know who is to blame if this very important message is not delivered in a timely fashion." And here she says the names aloud so that she may memorize then, "Fareham. Do you have first names that I may relay to the Earl when asked?"

Lysanor checked her orate of 11, she rolled 5.
Acwel makes a check for Erwyn Fareham Prudent at 10, he rolled 6.
Acwel makes a check for Varfyd Fareham Prudent at 10, he rolled 8.

"You'll step aside. Or you'll meet the three of us," Bryce says, but as this has already been said before, leaving little impact on the scoundrels, he brings his horse forward and draws his sword, as if to back up his words. "So… Who of you is willing to meet us in our terms?" His gaze shifts to Lysanor when she loses her patience with them - and does a quite convincing job of scaring them. Well, in fact, Bryce is quite astonished by this new side to Lysanor he is to see. The beautiful petite lady is obviously not one to trifle with.

The knights seem cowed for a moment by Lysanor's words, or perhaps the insinuation that they might be reported to the Earl for their misdeeds. So they step aside, allowing the knights full passage, while they still look at the poor fellow on the ground. His lucky day, apparently, for they whistle, and their squires come with their chargers. These Knights of Silchester, or the older one, at least, looks to Cyndeyrn and states, clearly, "It's not the last time we'll see eachother, Sir, I can promise you that." And with that, they charge out.

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