A Flawed Plan Executed Quickly and with Confidence is Better than a Perfect Plan Enacted Too Late.
Aldebrand watched in fascination as Wynn stood, seeming to be mesmerized by her memories of this bizarre dream.
Yet... was it a dream? Or was it the true event of the ensorcelment? Has magic been used to bury the truth in the guise of a dream? Was that a thing that could occur?
The Church of Ceros taught good Bryddians to be suspicious of magic. Those who employed such powers were so frequently in the sway of evil, and were pregnant with evil plots. Only the powers gifted by the divine could truly be trusted. Perhaps not all magicians were evil... but it was a field thick with weeds and thistles which bore little wheat.
But the tale turned from dark to darker. Aldebrand's face became a mask of surprise and horror. Directly addressed, he spoke up to reply.
"I assumed... well... there must be differences with Gaelic women..."
It was awkward to speak of such things in front of her family, but it seemed a vital detail. "There was no blood."
Had his bride been lured by magic, defiled by monsters?
There seemed little doubt his father would disown him, now.
Of the sea, the land and the sky...
"I dreamed I was woken by the hand of a fair lady who led me down to the seashore. We walked into the waves and sank down, down below. Gruudux tried to follow me and stop me, but there were wards he could not pass. I was taken to a place... a sort of glistening cave, where filthy, crawly sea slugs and lug worms dwelt, and I saw that the fair lady was now as foul a creature as they. She bid me seal and sign some documents, and when that deed was done, those deep sea monsters..." here she swayed a little on her feet "... they made vile sport of me..." Her naturally pallid skin had blanched to a deathly snowy hue.
She almost fell back into her chair and without raising her head, asked in trembling tones, despite the company they were in: "Husband.... tell me truthfully... when first we coupled, did you find me a virgin?" The idea that the dream had been no dream was too horrible to contemplate, but she had to know.
Breccan set his wine goblet aside. He was not overly fond of wine anyway and poured himself a clean goblet of fresh, cold water. Despite his movements he had been listening closely to Wynn's tale and to her new husband's answer. Under the cover of Aldebrand's answer, the Windmaster leaned back again and extended his internal senses, searching for a taint or touch of the Shadow on Wynn. He knew what he would find as Rhagarth had not been alerted to the Shadow's presence immediately. Sadly, many of the Shadow Horde were able to disguise themselves and even work short spells to entangle the unwary without leaving a sliver of Shadow taint in their victims.
"I assumed... well... there must be differences with Gaelic women..."
It was awkward to speak of such things in front of her family, but it seemed a vital detail. "There was no blood."
Breccan looked from one to the other, "On this last part, I can speak. I have been reliably informed by one of our healers that very active women, especially those that spend long hours in the saddle on horseback, sometimes do not bleed on their wedding night."
"Do you have the documents with you? I would like to examine them if I may..." Breccan decided to wait to discuss more on the ensorcellment aspect. No creature of the Shadow should have been able to get that close to a Drakeri without setting off their internal warnings. This was concerning. Long ago, the Sídhe had warded these lands as they had their own. Breccan was now as concerned for his young protégé as he was for Claen Gael itself.
Tags: Cubanwriter Javia
Breccan looked from one to the other, "On this last part, I can speak. I have been reliably informed by one of our healers that very active women, especially those that spend long hours in the saddle on horseback, sometimes do not bleed on their wedding night."
He might have added 'on dragon-back' too! Wynn let out a palpable sigh of relief as she sat back down, for she looked fit to swoon and only a sort of martial discipline kept her trying to carry on as normal. Part of her did wonder, though, what would have happened had the answer been different: would Aldebrand have thrown her over as his wife had she turned out to have been despoiled, even before their nuptial joining?
She could feel Rhagarth comforting her, sustaining her. She was also cheered by the mention of another person very dear to her, for Lord Breccan had mentioned some anonymous 'healer', but Wynn was very sure he must mean Fi... Mistress Gale. Although why the two of them had been talking about such a topic didn't bear thinking about.
She roused herself from this reverie by the Second Marshal's next question.
"Do you have the documents with you? I would like to examine them if I may..." Breccan decided to wait to discuss more on the ensorcellment aspect. No creature of the Shadow should have been able to get that close to a Drakeri without setting off their internal warnings. This was concerning. Long ago, the Sídhe had warded these lands as they had their own. Breccan was now as concerned for his young protégé as he was for Claen Gael itself.
She managed to pull herself together enough to act with at least some semblance of military bearing, and standing fetched forth the documents in question, handing them over.
"You will find them quite genuine: I have had them examined by one of the foremost forgers of the..." [oops, don't say 'the humans'] "... of Brydd, one Simeon: a miserable wretch, it is true, but one dependant wholly upon our protection for his life." She decided not to mention that it was her new husband's clemency in granting the criminal's pre-execution wish for pen and paper that had allowed him to forge his own pardon and leg it over the Burning Sea to the safety of Duskhallow.
Even a fellow Drakeri would find it impossible to replicate the signature of another of their ilk. It was definitely her hand that had there signed. Did that mean she was compromised? Must she lay down her commission? Must she lay down her place in the Dragonguard, or indeed in the Morrighan altogether? If she was deemed to have betrayed the Empress in this, must she even lay down her life, to expiate that crime? Aye, it was this unconscious act, more than her marriage to a noble heir of a foreign state, that could be the ruination of her life.
@[Cubanwriter]
A Flawed Plan Executed Quickly and with Confidence is Better than a Perfect Plan Enacted Too Late.
Aldebrand relaxed somewhat at Breccan's deeper knowledge of female anatomy, gleaned from Gaelic healers. Given that every other damnable thing in this place was head-and-shoulders above the rest of the world, it seemed plausible their healers were more accomplished, as well.
But Aldebrand did not relax completely, for his courtly training had not been entirely wasted. He knew to listen not only to the words of others, but the places where words were absent. Lord Breccan had offered an alternative explanation. He had not said that the dream was impossible and that the events described couldn't have occurred. And the fact that Wynn had penned a signature which she did not recall was evidence rather to the contrary. Something had happened to her.
"I have turned the matter over in my mind," Aldebrand said, "and the only reason I can conceive of to see me sent on a false diplomatic mission to your shores is to engineer a conflict. And indeed, a conflict was brewing. Your warship, our warship. Tensions high. One slip of violence by one nervous man, one overly rude remark from someone with a grudge, one of a hundred missteps, and war would have been sparked right in your bay. I can only imagine that was the intent of the malefactors.
But as Ceros teaches us, 'Darkness can not fully comprehend the Light. Darkness shrinks away from Light, so its understanding of illuminated souls must always be imperfect, based on furtive glimpses between shielding fingers. Darkness makes a tale about the Light, and thereby in contrast about itself. Darkness forges a world of lies upon which to stand, and is forever astonished when the foundation of that world proves to be shifting sand. Darkness is thus always vanquished by the Light-Hearted, who possess strengths that Darkness finds not in itself, and thus cannot conceive of in others.' "
Aldebrand sat more erect, and extended his hand as though he was a player on the stage, delivering a soliloquy. A critical listener might ferret out that he was practicing a potential speech that he might give to his own family when he had to explain his marriage to them.
"Wynn foiled the machinations of the Dark Ones behind this scheme. She did it with her heart. That Light-Heartedness which Ceros describes. Failing all else: Failing noble rank, Failing social station, Failing wealth, Failing every cheap and base concern of mortal men... if all she could hold up to show her worth was that illuminated Heart, then that would still be a treasure above all. And she has proved it. For we are not at war. We are instead united. And so she is revealed to be a Chosen of Ceros, an Agent of Light, and consequently ennobled by the most High."
Whether his proclamations about Ceros would be offensive to his hosts was not something he appeared to consider. Nor did he appear to consider how naming one of the Gaelic people a 'Chosen of Ceros' might be seen by his own Bryddian family if he were to try this speech on them.
These things did not occur to him for the simple reason that his speech was not a design for deception. It was an explanation of something true. A simple declaration of facts.
Of the sea, the land and the sky...
She (Wynn) managed to pull herself together enough to act with at least some semblance of military bearing, and standing fetched forth the documents in question, handing them over.
"You will find them quite genuine: I have had them examined by one of the foremost forgers of the..." [oops, don't say 'the humans'] "... of Brydd, one Simeon: a miserable wretch, it is true, but one dependent wholly upon our protection for his life." She decided not to mention that it was her new husband's clemency in granting the criminal's pre-execution wish for pen and paper that had allowed him to forge his own pardon and leg it over the Burning Sea to the safety of Duskhallow.
Breccan took the documents, scanned their content and stared at the signature. It was clearly as Wynn had stated. While he did not detect an embedded ward on the signature, neither could he see anything dark or untoward. He glanced at Rhagarth, noting that the Ddraig was still casting about trying to pick up some hint of the Shadow attached to the documents or to Wynn and her consort. Breccan was more inclined to be concerned that he nor the massive dragon could find any hint of what the girl had spoken of in her earlier almost trance-like state.
‘Send for a Harbinger,’ Breccan directed Rhagarth via mindspeech, ‘but no magister. I will write the missive for the High Marshal myself.’
Turning his attention to Aldebrand Salain, the Windmaster listened to his speech with one eyebrow quirked and a neutral expression on his face. Admittedly, the Bryddian had a point. If all of this had been a ploy to engender hostilities between House Salain and Claen Gael, then it had seemingly backfired. What was the end-game? It was unlikely that the Arilans would send the whole of Brydd to war over a dispute between one of their Houses, even such a notable one as the March of Salain. It was equally unlikely that Grayfury and the Jade Empress would allow war to blossom again without making sure of all the facts. The Gaelic destruction of the Salt Fleet had been a terrible consequence over what turned out to be a trick designed for just such a purpose.
"…For we are not at war. We are instead united. And so she is revealed to be a Chosen of Ceros, an Agent of Light, and consequently ennobled by the most High."
As Syr Aldebrand finished speaking, Breccan’s other eyebrow rose. His expression was bland and his voice wry as he replied to the ending of the man’s words which seemed as much a soliloquy and stream-of-consciousness speech as one determined to plead a case.
"I would not go quite that far," Breccan said wryly, "considering how The Faithful view the realm of magic." He internally winced at the use of the word magic. However, trying to explain that none of the races deemed as magic-users actually considered any of their abilities as magic had heretofore been lost on the younger race. Besides, how would he explain that he had been born with the knowledge that his spirit was incomplete?
"I will send a Harbinger to the Laird High Marshal Grayfury informing him of what has transpired as well as suggest that he send Morrighan to scout out the sea caves. Perhaps Rhagarth can also contact one of the sea dragons to assist although they often prefer to stay out of matters that concern the purely air-breathers," Breccan stated, "and I will have a room prepared for you - or rooms if that is your preference?" He nodded toward the great windows where daylight was starting to wane and the ever-present Gwydion with its Ley rings was glowing brightly overhead. Realizing that he was not giving his guests much of an opportunity to respond, Breccan continued, "I suppose what now remains is how you want to handle this marriage of yours? Wynn, do you intend to resign your commission with the Morrighan and return to Brydd as Lady Salain? Conversely, Syr Aldebrand, do you plan to renounce your House and find a place here? Perhaps as a captain in the Sea Guard, Dragonguard’s marines?"
Aldebrand's high-flown, Ceros-themed harangue was embarrassing on a number of levels, (especially the number of times he used the word 'failing' when he described her!) but Wynn managed to maintain a supportive and sympathetic smile for her husband as he delivered it: he was her husband, he needed her support and, also, she felt sort of sorry for him as he made a bit of a dunce of himself: she had to fight an overwhelming urge to pat him on the head and say 'well done dear, you made a really special speech, just like a big boy!'. She was happy to let Lord Breccan answer in a more practical and, ironically for a dragon-rider, down-to-earth fashion.
"I would not go quite that far," Breccan said wryly, "considering how The Faithful view the realm of magic."
Wynn nodded with a frown, as if she was weighing up two equally valid points of view. However, she could not sit on the fence after the Second Marshal delivered his next set of questions, which shone a sharp light on the decisions that both she and Aldebrand made about their future together.
"I will send a Harbinger to the Laird High Marshal Grayfury informing him of what has transpired as well as suggest that he send Morrighan to scout out the sea caves. Perhaps Rhagarth can also contact one of the sea dragons to assist although they often prefer to stay out of matters that concern the purely air-breathers," Breccan stated, "and I will have a room prepared for you - or rooms if that is your preference?"
"Room!... please." replied Wynn quickly. The die was cast: Aldebrand and she must stick together; she had an odd fear that to be separated from him now might break that magic spell that the human himself held over her: then she really would be without hope. She must cleave unto him, now and forever.
Windmaster's next question was trickier.
"I suppose what now remains is how you want to handle this marriage of yours? Wynn, do you intend to resign your commission with the Morrighan and return to Brydd as Lady Salain? Conversely, Syr Aldebrand, do you plan to renounce your House and find a place here? Perhaps as a captain in the Sea Guard, Dragonguard’s marines?"
Both ideas were repugnant to Wynn: she had worked hard and undergone years of training to reach her present rank, and the idea of being separated from her ddraich, and her fellow guards, was almost too unbearable to think about. But the idea of Aldebrand, her proud, proud Aldebrand, being reduced to serving as a human officer in Gael, where she herself would far outrank him, was too, too pitiable: he would always be an outsider and a man occupying a far lower place in life than he was destined for.
She squared it with herself. She remembered herself as a ignorant peat-cutters daughter in the Fens, who sometimes heard an odd music in the wind on a blustery day, coming from far, far away: a music that drew her - or which she drew to herself somehow. She had come far since then, and now to marry the Heir of Salain: would that not have been an impossible dream for that muddy child, as she carried heavy basket after heavy basket of the muddy fuel to market? Aye, think not what futures her Gaelic homeland might have held for her, think what she had in hand, sitting beside her right now, in Aldebrand.
She stood. She felt the occasion required it.
"My Lord Marshal, if the Empress will allow it, I shall resign both my commission and my country and return with My Lord Aldebrand as his wife, his lady and, in all conscience, as a loyal subject of his overlord, the King of Brydd!"
For there was the rub: should war - be it cold or hot - exist betwixt their two nations, she could not sit on the fence: she must be for the Dragon Lords or for the united crown of the Quinate, one or the other: and she knew secrets of the former state that would be of signal advantage to the latter. She would be a veritable Alcibiades!
@[Stormwolf]
A Flawed Plan Executed Quickly and with Confidence is Better than a Perfect Plan Enacted Too Late.
"Hmm..." Aldebrand nodded at Lord Breccan's sage observation. It was true, the Church of Ceros might view his argumentation as a flavor of blasphemy.
Well... he'd think of something.
Something both useful and true.
When Lord Breccan asked about lodging arrangements, and Wynn spoke up at once, Aldebrand smiled. She was in it with him. And he'd be in it with her. Whatever else, whatever magical factor, whatever sinister machination, whatever social consequence, they were now One.
But at the Lord's next question, Aldebrand's eyes went wide.
It had somehow not occurred to him that Wynn might be forced to lose station. She had said something to the effect of not being allowed to marry, but he'd almost dismissed the notion out-of-hand.
For his own part, Aldebrand had anticipated the possibility that his father might disown him. But in such a case, he'd still have his Knighthood. He could still make a life for them. But... leaving Brydd altogether? The idea had never occurred to him. It was... it was...
"My Lord Marshal, if the Empress will allow it, I shall resign both my commission and my country and return with My Lord Aldebrand as his wife, his lady and, in all conscience, as a loyal subject of his overlord, the King of Brydd!"
Aldebrand's mouth fell open. "No!" He paused, "I mean, yes, but..."
His mind was reeling. He usually followed precise plans. Well-drilled strategies he'd learned in classic books of warfare and leadership. He didn't usually have to improvise. Just choose the well-established best solution to any given scenario.
He cleared his throat, "My Lord. I am very happy that my new bride is willing to surrender her whole life to live with me... however, I feel that doing so would squander some of the unique opportunities before us.
We have succeeded in routing the enemy plans. Now, charging forward with our advantage to vanquish them entirely seems like the winning strategy.
I am slated to participate in the Anniversary Tourney of my Kingdom. I was originally to take a Saskian representative with me, but that is now revealed to be a ruse.
However! It can still be so. In a fashion.
If you will permit me the suggestion...
Could the Lady Wynn not be granted detached service to your Diplomatic Corps and accompany me as your country's representative at this august event? To reinforce relations so recently strained, perhaps? She could even participate in the Tourney, adding her sword and lance to the celebration of Brydd's anniversary as a gesture of honor from your realm to ours.
Even better, whoever schemed against our nations might pursue their intention further at the Tourney itself, allowing us the opportunity to uncover their identity and foil them more completely than we already have."
As able as Aldebrand was with a sword in hand, he was a clumsy negotiator at courtly affairs. But still, there might be some seed of a good idea in that hastily cobbled proposal.
Of the sea, the land and the sky...
Breccan's mind sorted out the various threads of the conundrum, finding and discarding solutions. There was only so much prevarication that could be managed. Too many times such plots unraveled catastrophically. Yet, he had a natural inclination to protect Wynn. Ever since he had taken her into his care as a fosterling, he had felt responsible for her well-being. Now, he looked on her more as a father than anything. This last thought gave him his inspiration.
"Here is what I propose," Breccan began, "Do not speak of the ensorcellment to any other than myself or Grayfury. For one thing, we are still unsure what happened so the less said, the better."
The Second Marshal turned his eyes to gaze at both Wynn and Syr Aldebrand. He smiled slightly, revealing that he also practiced excellent dental hygiene, "As is obvious by how easy Wynn has considered herself to have become your wife, the Drakeri have very informal marriage traditions. Technically, a man may claim a woman to wife simply by taking her from her clan home. These days," Breccan added with another wry note in his voice, "we do require that the woman be willing. That was not always the case."
"I have longed to plan to do this, but have just not gotten around to it. Wynn, with your permission, I would like to formally adopt you as my lawful daughter. This would entitle you to a dowry that even a High House of Brydd would not sneer at. We can state that we have not advertised the fact as I simply had had no time to contact your clan for formal permission - which is true."
Here, Breccan paused and focused his attention on Salain, "This should remove any onus regarding Wynn's birthright. However, you would need to agree to return to Ironreaches Siege for the next Gathering of the Clans so that we may formalize your marriage under our traditions as well. As far as your suggestion that Wynn return as an envoy of Claen Gael, I would have to speak to both Grayfury and The Voice to arrange that, but I believe it can be done. On your part, Syr, you would also need to make certain of Gruudux's safety in your homeland. Few Morrighan survive the death of their wingbond with mind, body, and soul intact."
"Here is what I propose," Breccan began, "Do not speak of the ensorcellment to any other than myself or Grayfury. For one thing, we are still unsure what happened so the less said, the better."
"Understood" nodded Wynn, glad of some direction in this confounding matter.
Breccan then explained the way that marriages were usually arranged amongst the Drakeri to her husband, all of which was, of course, no surprise to herself. Yet the next words to issue from the Second Marshal's mouth fair knocked the wind out of her: armour or no!
"I have longed to plan to do this, but have just not gotten around to it. Wynn, with your permission, I would like to formally adopt you as my lawful daughter. This would entitle you to a dowry that even a High House of Brydd would not sneer at. We can state that we have not advertised the fact as I simply had had no time to contact your clan for formal permission - which is true."
Wynn just sat open-mouthed for the longest moment, and then threw herself upon her knees and kissed Lord Windmaster's hand. "My Father! I am your Daughter!" It was one of the simplest, yet most resonant oaths in the Drakeri canon: and one of the few connections that equalled those bonds that existed between ddraich and rider. She did not rise from her knees until bidden.
Here, Breccan paused and focused his attention on Salain, "This should remove any onus regarding Wynn's birthright. However, you would need to agree to return to Ironreaches Siege for the next Gathering of the Clans so that we may formalize your marriage under our traditions as well. As far as your suggestion that Wynn return as an envoy of Claen Gael, I would have to speak to both Grayfury and The Voice to arrange that, but I believe it can be done. On your part, Syr, you would also need to make certain of Gruudux's safety in your homeland. Few Morrighan survive the death of their wingbond with mind, body, and soul intact."
Wynn wondered if it should rather be her being asked to assure both men of the Salainian's safety from Gruudux, rather than the other way around; but she held her tongue before her Husband and... though she could scarcely believe it... Father!
@[Stromwolfe]
A Flawed Plan Executed Quickly and with Confidence is Better than a Perfect Plan Enacted Too Late.
Aldebrand's eyes widened as events rapidly unfolded.
Although, 'Events Rapidly Unfolded' might be a good descriptor of everything that had transpired lately.
The Lord Breccan adopted Wynn, apparently a long-planned event that was crystallized by emerging factors. A substantial dowry was even promised. Well... treasure was the traditional means by which lack of social station was compensated for. Gold was worth its weight in titles.
Aldebrand had no actual understanding of Lord Breccan's station. Wynn had said that nobility worked differently, here. But he was clearly a man of high standing who interacted with the most notable figures of the realm.
"I imagine it will be necessary to visit on many family events and holidays," Aldebrand agreed, "not least any ceremony to certify the marriage. Though I hope this might not interfere with the Tourney. This particular Tourney is especially notable in Brydd, celebrating the founding of the Kingdom on its 250th anniversary. My absence would possibly be seen as an affront to the King, and there are some family commitments I am expected to satisfy when I arrive there."
The matter of taking a squire still had to be dealt with- his gesture of reconciliation after insulting the Princess.
On the issue of the dragon's safety...
"A political envoy would necessarily enjoy the assured safe passage for themselves, their possessions, and their retinue. Of course, Wynn would need to promise good conduct for the dragon." Aldebrand paused, not sure how much to explain. "In my Kingdom, the nature of dragons is not entirely understood. Some see them as barely tamed beasts. Others as dogs or horses. But in either case, they would expect an envoy to vouch for and be responsible for it. Few would see a dragon as a thinking creature responsible for itself."
Few indeed. Aldebrand himself had only come to that conclusion recently, and had not figured out the full ramifications of it. That a dragon might actually rule its rider was a potential concept he was only beginning to imagine.
"In any event, my Lord, I am deeply honored by these gestures of support. My loyalty with always be to by King, my country, and my family. You are part of that family, now." He bowed low.
Aldebrand had two fathers, now.
"By your leave, we shall retire so that you may attend to the important matters befitting your station, until such a time as your superiors come to a consensus regarding a potential diplomatic mission and we can depart for the Tourney."