The evening delved deeper and deeper into the depths of the Abyss, at least what Zara considered the Dark Depths to be, if such a place existed. The Templar barely contained his clear disdain for her people, the bigotry and hatred just rolled off the man’s body in waves, like those that crashed on the sandy shores that she had read about in books.
The idea of magic appeared to make the man overcome with disgust. No wonder that poor man had asked for sanctuary. Brydd’s backwards ways had permeated throughout the country and its people. Shame. For a country so rich, it was poor in the most important ways. Zara looked around the room with all the people dripping with jewels and gold, as if these shiny bobbles made them superior to all. There wasn’t a hoard of gold that would make these people rich where it mattered most.
Zara allowed her mind to wander, as she just smiled sweetly, playing the part she had been created for. Nodding her head, as the various fruits and vegetables were described in detail for her. The thought that she could actually have any knowledge of such things never having passed through the egotistical Lord’s mind.
Just when Zara had thought the dinner couldn’t get any more loathsome, she found her flesh bought and sold without any coin exchanging hands. The Templar mentioned some kind of fugitive on the prowl. The knight’s not so subtle dig at having their rooms ransacked. But the Bryddians underestimated the intelligence of her brother. He arranged for her to stay in the fort’s most sensitive areas. All in the name of protecting their lives.
Ha.
First, why would any fugitive from the authorities here want to harm the diplomatic envoy for the Tourney? Common sense would say that the Lord would be the target, not them. But once the Templar introduced the idea of a threat, he opened the door to the truer, deeper threat to gain a footing.
Her brother took the Templar’s queen, and called checkmate.
The Templar angrily left the table, with his metaphorical tail between his legs.
Course, that meant that Zara’s body was given up on a silver platter to the lecherous Lord of the manor. Never one to let any opportunity go, her brother saw that this would be the best way to place them where they had the best access to the Lord’s secret:. The man’s bed chambers.
Zara just continued to play the part, embracing the ‘innocent beauty’ act for all at the table.
“Oh, I hadn’t realized just how dangerous this land was. I had heard so many tales of the riches and vast lush lands here. I am saddened to hear of such perils to our safety. I’m so glad that we have your protection against dangerous malcontents!”
@[Cubanwriter]
The Abbey Church of Ceros at Sartell was a modest affair, but nonetheless had a pleasant area behind it, which the order of monks there used as a small herb garden, and the lovely and varied flowers and greenery, along with a cool square well in the middle of it, made it an ideal place for the priest Ancelin to sit and collect his thoughts and meditate on the situation. It was thus seated that the two girls found him.
Although, as a priest of Ceros, he was in no way beholden to them, he stood at the approach of the two young ladies, a friendly smile upon his visage, and made the sign of Ceros in greeting.
"Greetings, my children, greetings!" he chuckled "My Lady Safiya I recognise, though much grown since last we met, and this second beauty, I suppose, must be the Princess Rigunth, whom I recognise from the similarity to her sister, who is here in Sartell with me, even as we speak." he smiled gently, managing, in one fell swoop, to compliment the both of them, and to communicate some important news to one of them.
"Audovera? Here?!!" Gasped Rigunth and grasped Safiya's hand, turning to her and explaining. "Oh, this is signal news indeed, for I did not know whether my sister lived or no after her escape from my uncle's dungeons!" As always when she mentioned her own sister, Rigunth reflected sadly upon the death of Safiya's own sibling and her tomb in far off Orm.
She turned again to the priest.
"May I see her?" she asked eagerly.
Ancelin looked at Safiya "If your Mistress gives you leave" he answered "For you are a prisoner on your parole: as you required Lord Tancred's leave to speak with me, so you require leave to speak with a Sister of the Order of the Hospital of Saint Bozhena."
"My sister? A Hospitaller?!" Despite herself, Rigunth laughed out loud.
Ancelin looked quite shocked at the girl's immodest mirth.
"Thank you, My Lord." intoned the prisoner, as she curtsied once again. But then rising, she added "I would like a witness present: My Lady Safiya, if she would be so kind, that it not be said that I passed on any intelligence useful to my Uncle's schemes, or made any request for rescue, to this envoy of whom you speak." she requested firmly but politely.
Tancred gave her a look, "I had not even thought of that. Mayhaps I should simply not allow you to talk to him at all then - to be safe."
"Oh Father! You cannot be serious!" protested Safiya.
"I am not...........I said she can see the priest, let her see him. If you wish to accompany her as per her request, that is your decision," Tancred declared.
"As for me, I am hungry. I await the feast," he then spun about and left the chamber.
"You still want me to go?" Safiya inquired.
Rigunth enjoyed Tancred and his daughter's back-and-forth: though observing their relationship was bitter-sweet for her, of course, in view of her own dear father's death, through Offo's treachery.
"You made me castellan so I was in charge. I took command then as I felt was fitting," Safiya was not backing down, she truly was the daughter of her willful father.
Tancred smiled for just an instant then address Rigunth, "I will respect her decision. And you have proved yourself honorable thus far. Enough of this chatter."
Well, the 'thus far' part was a bit of a slap in the face, but at least it meant that she could stay out of a filthy cell and spend time in the company of Safiya and dear little Guindel. And then there was more good news.
"Oh I should tell you there is a priest here now, sent by Offo to negotiate - thus far it has not gone well..."
Yes, Rigunth could imagine that Tancred might not be the most tractable of fellows. She decided that negotiating with the warlord would be like trying to negotiate with one of the large, immovable roche moutonnée that littered the Saskian plain.
"If you would like to speak with the man and give a message to send back with him to your family, I will allow it."
"Thank you, My Lord." intoned the prisoner princess, as she curtsied once again. But then rising, she added "I would like a witness present: My Lady Safiya, if she would be so kind, that it not be said that I passed on any intelligence useful to my Uncle's schemes, or made any request for rescue, to this envoy of whom you speak." she requested firmly but politely.
Rigunth rose and, her chin tilted high, looked Tancred directly in the eye, though her legs shook a little, her hands trembled and her cheeks were suffused with crimson, for some reason.
"My Lord, your daughter, a sage and excellent judge of character, has accepted my parole, which you refused, and has not, I hope, lived to regret it." she said, a little pertly perhaps, but she felt it behoved her quality to show some spirit in her captor's presence, at least.
Safiya nodded, "It was my decision, father."
"Tagus informed me that you did not listen to his advice," he did not seem upset.
And do you always listen to him, father?" the daughter retorted.
"NO, I do not. But I am lord here not him," Tancred pointed out.
"You made me castellan so I was in charge. I took command then as I felt was fitting," Safiya was not backing down, she truly was the daughter of her willful father.
Tancred smiled for just an instant then address Rigunth, "I will respect her decision. And you have proved yourself honorable thus far. Enough of this chatter."
"Oh I should tell you there is a priest here now, sent by Offo to negotiate - thus far it has not gone well. If you would like to speak with the man and give a message to send back with him to your family, I will allow it."
Wynn was not surprised when something grabbed hold of her once again: she assumed it was another tentacle, reaching out and pulling her in. She dared open her eyes which she had instinctively closed when she had hit the water. The salt in the brine stung horribly and clouded her vision, but she could see, somewhere above her, the shimmering light of the surface - broken and agitated violently by the combined shadow of the ship and the monster: seeming to be miles away as she sank to a watery grave.
But it was not a tentacle, it was hands, hands pushing her, all of sudden, back upwards: up toward the light and there - IMPOSSIBLE!! - Aldebrand sinking quickly toward her, weighed down by his armour like a sailor's leaden plumb-line, and like such a heavy object, attached by a rope. It was almost too late, she could no longer hold back, suddenly her lungs spasmed and salt water cascaded down her throat and up her nose and everything went black.
Aldebrand, his drowning bride pushed into his arms, got only a water-fogged glance at the creature: hideously, hideously ugly and dangerous looking, very, very dangerous looking. Then it was gone.
Up on deck, Angharad, having gone tumbling on the heaving deck after firing off the fatal crossbow bolt, had recovered herself enough to scramble back up just in time to see the fully armoured Sir Aldebrand jump suicidally into the heaving ocean! A young lad was desperately trying to tie a rope fast - had it been attached to the knight?
She babbled excitedly at the boy, "Dywedwch wrthyf beth i'w wneud, byddaf yn eich cynorthwyo!" she yelled, but he could not understand her barbarian tongue. She grabbed the rope and held it tight, although if the fast sinking warrior did, literally, 'come to the end of his tether' she would, at best, suffer burned hands or, at worst, get pulled in after him, unless the lad hurried.
"A nonentity? Hardly. As for Offo wanting you dead, does he not want almost everyone dead it seems? All of Sask would be better off if he were the one to die," Safiya scoffed then added, "Besides, you are important to me. You must know that."
Rigunth, saying nothing, turned, caught Safiya's eye and gave her a soft little smile that said everything.
The Lord Tancred entered and the prisoner committed a deep curtsey and styed down until the triumphant warrior addressed her.
He next focused on Rigunth, "Ahh, Offo's castellan. I must say you look much better out of that suit of chainmail. I heard from Tagus that you now have the run of the place."
Rigunth rose and, her chin tilted high, looked Tancred directly in the eye, though her legs shook a little, her hands trembled and her cheeks were suffused with crimson, for some reason.
"My Lord, your daughter, a sage and excellent judge of character, has accepted my parole, which you refused, and has not, I hope, lived to regret it." she said, a little pertly perhaps, but she felt it behoved her quality to show some spirit in her captor's presence, at least.
As she stood there in his dead daughter's favourite dress, she could not but wonder if, now he was returned, Tancred might countermand the freedom that his daughter had allowed the spawn of Offo's family and whether she might not soon be lodged in some deep oubliette.
Aldebrand never saw whether his spear-throw struck home. A motion hooked his eye as surely as if he was a hungry fish, turning his head on the silk-strong tether of his concern. He would not have imagined it days ago, but he found that invisible strands now connected him to a woman born of House Salain's gravest nemesis.
She now wore a ring he'd taken from a vile sea-pirate. A ring he'd paid for with blood, pain, and death. A ring he'd given her on a night of passion. The greatest passion he'd ever known.
Circumstances had gifted him with the chance to unleash a part of himself he'd never before set loose. It hadn't been right, or useful, or logical. Not ever. Such indulgences were for other men. Lesser men, with lesser concerns.
Until now. Politics was the perfect excuse.
He'd wrapped himself in political justification, then he'd wrapped his arms around Wynn, and he'd lost himself there.
And he'd found himself there.
Now, as his vision was drawn by the movement of a horrible tentacle, he turned to find two things: Wynn was being pulled over the roiling sea. And the ship's boy was arriving with Aldebrand's weapons.
There was rope nearby. On a ship, there was always rope nearby. In this case, a coil of rope at Aldebrand's feet. A hundred yards of it, perhaps. Perhaps a bit less. Perhaps quite a bit less. He'd know soon enough.
Aldebrand picked up one end of the rope and tied it around his waist. He did this almost presciently, predicting what was to come before the descent and the splash actually occurred. Like physical gravity, the events unfolding seemed to have a set of physical rules surrounding them. Rules which, like a cascading line of dominoes, could only have one entirely predictable end: Wynn was going in the water. If he wanted to keep her, he would have to go into the water, too.
He wanted to keep her.
Pulling a knot tight, he reached out to take his dagger from the ship's boy, who dutifully scampered wide-eyed to Aldebrand's side.
"Tie this off," Aldebrand ordered.
Then he leaped.
The waters rose to meet him.
Then the air was gone. The light faded. And Aldebrand was guided almost entirely by his conviction that he must succeed.
Behind him, the rope uncoiled.
The shocked ship's boy stared wide-eyed, finally hearing his command when it was nearly too late.
"A nonentity? Hardly. As for Offo wanting you dead, does he not want almost everyone dead it seems? All of Sask would be better off if he were the one to die," Safiya scoffed then added, "Besides, you are important to me. You must know that."
"Hear! Hear!" Guindel cheered joyfully.
Just then there was a loud rap on the door, followed by it being opened without a pause for an answer. It was, of course, the mighty warlord of Sartell who swept on in. Even without armor, Tancred was an impressive man, tall, muscled, a look of utter confidence in his demeanor, and eyes that burned into one if he focused on that individual.
Safiya lit up in excitement, "Oh father! I missed you so!" She then ran up to the man and gave him a full hug, her face only going up to his chest.
Tancred returned the embrace though with a bare hint of smile unlike the huge grin of his daughter, "And I you, child. You look well."
"I am, especially now that you are back." They separated then.
Tancred now took in the other within the room, he spoke to the servant girl first, "You - leave us."
Guindel knew her place with this man, not a word back but she put her eyes down to the stone floor and scampered out like she was being chased, shutting the door behind her.
He next focused on Rigunth, "Ahh, Offo's castellan. I must say you look much better out of that suit of chainmail. I heard from Tagus that you now have the run of the place."
There was no anger in his voice, more a hint of bemusement. Safiya could tell he was in a good mood.
Safiya was very certain that Lord Tancred would not want to be welcomed home immediately by his nearest and dearest and that the two girls should wait in their rooms until visited or summoned. So be it. Her own father, she remembered, Ceros rest his slandered soul, had loved it when she and her sister and bothers had run out to meet him on his return from campaign or hunt or any other journey. But he had been a genial, noble, kindly, admired soul. How unlike his brother Offo. Maybe that is why Offo had done so much to denigrate his character after his death.
She was raised from this reverie by the piping voice of little Guindel at her side.
"M'lady, will your father let Lady Rigunth go or do you think he will execute her?" the girl suddenly cheekily inquired
"Oh, Guindel!" Rigunth exclaimed.
she was quick to turn to their guest, "Not that I want that but I be just asking." She finished that comment with a toothy grin, the scamp.
"No, I don't want it either!" Rigunth replied. it was said in fun (rather grim fun. it had to be said) but it was still a possibility, especially as the niece of the 'King' of Sask was of neither use nor ornament to his dynastic plans.
"Execute her? Nonsense! I would simply not allow it. Besides what purpose would that serve and Father does nothing without a good reason or as he says 'to gain a tactical advantage'," Tancred's daughter scoffed.
"Yes, I am a bit of a nonentity, really." nodded Rigunth "I suspect Offo has more reason to want me dead than your Father. for I am a constant reminder to him of the great qualities my father possessed that he does not." The time spent with Safiya in Sartell had made her more bold about speaking her mind on such matters.