the Leathermines

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There were soldiers standing in ranks around the tent as Laun rode up to it.  There were servants under one of the trees in the verge several leagues from the tent, milling about but looking as if they could be ordered at a snap of a finger.  Laun guided Grace to beside the other horses and sat for a moment, deciding.

There was a call to salute and Laun looked up.  She saw that it was for her so she saluted back.  She unhooked her knees and pushed herself slightly back in the saddle.  She held out a hand and several of the soldiers came forward to help her down.

She had just her tunic and loincloth on, the straps for the sheaths plain on her legs.  She swung her leg over and let the men help her down, a knee from one of them kneeling supporting her as she stepped down.  She motioned to the pack that was strapped to the saddle and it was untied for her.

Laun pulled on the skirt that she had draped over the font of the saddle and it fell into her hand.  She pulled it up and tied it and settled herself, bringing her braid to her front with the clapperless bell tied to the tail.

“Please,” Laun said quietly, “tell Falmir that his Thorn is here for his pleasure.”

One of the soldiers saluted and went to the tent, knocking on the upright at the opening.  He was called in and Laun could hear voices before the soldier came back out and motioned for Laun to enter.  She put a hand on the man holding her pack and motioned for him to follow her in.

It was not a large tent.  Falmir seemed to be taking up a full half of it, the other half by cowering messengers.  He turned as Laun came in and she could see the fury that he barely held in check.  Laun motioned to the place she wanted the pack set and the soldier did so before Laun stepped forward and curtseyed to Falmir.

“I can’t make any sense to any of this crap, Thorn.  Maybe you can.”  Falmir handed her a sheaf of papers and parchments and started pacing again.

Laun kept her head down and made a show of her pregnancy, the belt emphasizing her bulge and rounded breasts.  “Yes, sire,” she quietly said.

She waddled to her pack and opened it, the camp stool what she was reaching for.  The soldier who had brought it in had not been dismissed and saw that she was having difficulties bending to get it.  He pulled out the camp stool, and set it up for her, several rope coils showing before he closed the pack again.

Laun made more of a show in sitting on the stool, making it look like she may not be able to get back up again.  In truth, Laun was not sure if she was going to be able to, but this part of the interrogation was all show.  She already saw sympathy on the faces of several of the men cowering on the other side of the tent and she could use that.

Laun delayed in reading the missives by sorting them and then dropping several to the dirt and grass floor.  The soldier bent to pick up the pages for her and she smiled at him.  As he retrieved them for her, Laun’s eyes took in the messengers, one standing out most because of his polished boots.  One of the others had a miss-matched set of clothing, but a new and bright belt buckle.  One seemed to be a plain soldier with noted markings on his uniform missing, standing at attention and looking fatigued.  One was in plain brown clothing, but the red rosette on his shoulder called attention to him.  There were a few others and Laun was amazed that so many messengers would arrive at about the same time, and so soon after the messengers they had sent out had come back.

Laun sighed and started to really read the messages.  The two that had Falmir the most concerned were the two from two different people claiming to be the King of the Midlands.  She looked up and, asking in a small voice, said, “Please, the messengers from the claimed Kings, could you come and take the missives you brought?”

The man with the polished boots stepped forward and held out his hand.  “I am from the council appointed King Dennis Cooper.”  Laun carefully pulled that scroll out of the pile, the illumination having obviously taken much longer than just a day or so to make.  She handed it to him and he stepped back, ignoring the glare from Falmir.

Laun looked at the other messengers and asked, “And the messenger from Picis, son of Durana?”  The miss-matched man stepped forward and hesitantly held out his hand.  Laun handed the plain pulp paper message back and started to look through the other messages again.

Falmir was getting impatient.  “Thorn.  Get on with it!”

She bowed her head and turned to the soldier next to her.  She motioned towards the messengers and quietly said, “Would you please escort the two Kings’ messengers out and hold them away from the tent?”

There was a threatening sound from the bold man and he crossed his arms as if he was not going to move.  The soldier called for help and the messenger’s bravado faded in the face of the uniformed men.  The two messengers were taken out and Laun could hear the grumbling of the one as it faded beyond where the horses were being held.

Laun looked at Falmir under her eyebrows and hoped she looked slightly frightened.  “Sire, may I ask which message the Sergeant brought?”

Falmir waved and put his arms over his chest.  The Soldier stepped forward but did not say anything.  Laun thought she knew the message, but needed to make sure.  She held up two of the messages, fairly similar in their look.  The soldier nodded to one of them and Laun looked at it.

“Um, I don’t recognize the name of this General.  Who is this?”  Laun, with the wisps of the artlessness she still had hanging to her, truly did not know who the name was.

“General Shie Hammond.”  The soldier looked ahead and was still at attention.

Laun looked at Falmir and he nodded slightly. “Sergeant, please be at ease.”

He went to parade rest but still looked straight ahead.  Laun looked at him and took note of more of him.  She put his missive to the side and then turned to the other messengers.  She turned to the man with the rosette on this shoulder and looked long at his message.

“There is already a new Ambassador from Rosemond?”

The man with the rosette stepped forward and made a bit of a bow to her.  “Until our King has named our next Ambassador, the Merchant General has stepped up to the position.”

Laun nodded.  She smiled, putting her hand over her mouth as she said, “How is he?  His wife still dressing him?”

Falmir sneered as the messenger started to look appalled.  “The Ambassador is well.  As is his wife.”

Laun looked at the message again.  “Sir, the Ambassador is asking for payment from the King of the Midlands for services from the troops that have been within our borders.  I am happy to say that there seem to be more Kings for you to fleece.”

He harumphed and put his thumbs through his belt as he stood with his nose in the air.  “Our ambassador recognizes Falmir as the King of the Midlands, even with his Father coming in with his council.”

Laun smiled.  She called out, “Escort!”  A soldier came in and saluted.  “Please take the Ambassador’s messenger out and away from the tent.  Make sure he is away from the other two.”

They were left with four messengers after the Rosemond Ambassador’s man was taken out of the tent.  Laun looked through and picked the least pressing message in the pile.

“Who is the messenger that brought the message from the noble who wishes to invite his Majesty to a gathering?”

A plain man stepped forward and bowed, his cap in his hands.  “Me, Lady.”

Laun nodded.  “Please tell your master that, even though a journey to the port city of Hamlis would be enjoyable, his Majesty will not be available for such a leisurely visit for at least another month.  When word of his Majesty arriving in the Capitol City comes to your master, such invites will be considered.  Until then, it is not appropriate.”  Laun saw a look of relief from Falmir as she nodded to the messenger.

“Escort!  Please hold this man away from the others.  He will be sent back out after these others are processed.”  There was a nod and the man was escorted out of the tent.

Three more.  “This is actually for the Bishop.  I’ll deal with you in a moment.  The messenger from Liam?”

The small man bowed as he moved forward.  “Lady.”

“And how is our traveler?  I thought he had gone back to Rosemond?”

“Lady, he does not stay in one place for long.  He heard you had been out of the Capitol City and I was sent to give you some missives.  It took me a while for the people at the Estate would not tell me at first where you had gone to.”

Laun looked at the plain, one-sided piece of paper.  The writing was similar, but the ink was running slightly, not the precise lines she remembered from Liam.  It seemed too...general to be one of his adventure stories.  Without a box and no mention of one of the trinkets he would usually send.  Laun looked up at the man and tilted her head.  “Where are the others?”

“Others, Lady?”  His smile did not change.  She noticed, even with the heat of he day and in the tent, he had not taken his gloves off.

“He had not finished one of his stories the last time he sent me something.  It was all about his trawler getting jammed on a sandbar, I think.”

He nodded and said smoothly, “I was to report back to him after meeting with you so that he could send you more on that.”

Laun smiled and dropped the paper to the floor.  “Oh, clumsy me.  Would you pick up the missive you delivered, please?”  He stepped further forward and Laun noted a few more inconsistencies in the man.  His clothing was slightly too big, though tailored.  His boots did not quite match the clothing.  And the scar on his neck...

Laun smiled and bowed her head.  “Thank you.  Escort!”

Another soldier came in and saluted to her.  “Highness.”

The messengers left in the tent all had different looks on their faces when she was addressed so.  Laun saluted back and motioned to the man in front of her who seemed to be the most surprised, and then slightly agitated.  “Please take this man out and keep him away from the others.  Oh, and if my man servant is out there, please have him keep track of this man.”  The soldier did as he was told and the messenger followed, a glance over his shoulder not well hidden as he left.

Two.  “Now, the missive for the Bishop.  You are one of his acolytes?”

The man dressed in mostly brown nodded.  “He is missed and is requested to take leave of his Majesty.”

“I understand that.  He is a quite powerful man and is needed elsewhere.  I do have a question, though...”

He waited and became slightly impatient.  “A question, Highness?”

She nodded.  “If you are an acolyte, where are your knots?”  Laun pointed to the rope belt, new with no vow knots tied in it.  Laun saw the panic in the man and pointed to the ground at his feet.  He knelt, both knees hitting the ground at the same time.  “I will send for one of the Bishops men to confirm both you and this message.  Until that time, I hope you will pray to your so forgiving god that your mercy will be swift.”  Sarcasm was loud in her quiet voice.

He bowed his head and said, “Yes, Highness.”

“Escort!  This man is to be knelt in the middle of the road until further notice.  Send one of the blue and grey servants to find one of the Bishop’s men and bring him back here.”

Laun watched the man stand and then get bodily dragged out by his arm.  She shook her head and sighed.

Falmir had been watching her and how she was separating the messengers.  He knew she had a plan, a way to handle all these men, but he still was not sure that he understood what it was.  “What about this one?”

Laun lifted a hand and her father helped her to her feet.  “I think the Sergeant has more than this terse missive to give to you, but could not with the other messengers.”

The soldier made a curt nod. “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am.”

Falmir put his arm around Laun in a protective gesture, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as she leaned into his side.  “Thorn, how can you tell he is a Sergeant?  I thought he was an unranked.”

Laun gestured with her chin.  “There are holes where rank insignia used to be, but only where non-commissioned officers would have it.  And, because he is a horseman, he forgot to take his call-thong from his belt.”

The soldier’s hand went to this belt, the thong with his rank marked in knots and silver hanging in with the other thongs he had there.  He blinked and then went back to parade rest.

Falmir put a light kiss on her forehead.  “My sweet Thorn.  Well, Sergeant, what does Shie have to say?”

The Sergeant went to attention and saluted.  “Sir, the Rosemond mercenaries have been disbanded from our ranks as requested, but they have been found to be reassembling at various Rosemond noble's estates through the Midlands.  We believe there is retaliation or some other meaning behind it.”  He went back to parade rest after delivering the message.

Laun nodded.  “Sire, I had word that about three hundred are over in Nestwood.”

“How...?  Nevermind.  Soldier, thank you for your message.  You are dismissed for now, but I will want to talk with you more.”  Falmir saluted to the soldier and watched the precise turn and steps the sergeant took to leave.

His voice was soft as he gathered Laun into his arms.  “What was all that about?  What would you do now?”

Laun rubbed her face across his chest once and took a deep breath.  “Without the Bishop, neither of the kings are actually kings.  That is why they want the Bishop.  Someone convinced your too young not-son that he was an heir, most likely his young noble friends, or father.  The other, since most of the council left are Rosemond loyalists, his appointment doesn’t actually count.  Without the blessing, not at all.”

“The man this Liam sent?”

Laun shook her head.  “Forged.  Most likely a poisoned ink.  Lady Engrid knew I had met and corresponded with Liam.  He would have found me at the Hawkwell estate while I was there if he had wanted to get me a message.  That was not the man he usually sent.  It was his clothes, though.”

Falmir kissed the top of his daughter’s head.  “I never would have been able to see all that.  What now?”

Laun pushed away slightly.  “I would send the one messenger back out, after feeding him.  The acolyte stays with the Bishop’s men, after we confirm that the Bishop understands that it is a bit of a ruse.  The two Kings men, keep them together for a while.  It will stick in the craw of the pompous noble and I like the idea of that.  The Ambassador’s man...  Keep him for now.”

Falmir kept nodding at what she was saying.  “I am assuming that the fake messenger...you want to play with.”

Laun smiled.  “If I can keep him alive that long.”

Laun was led out of the tent by Falmir.  The soldiers around them saluted and Falmir returned the salute.  Laun saw that the fake messenger did have Hazalam near him.  The Sect’s messenger was still keeling, his head bowed in prayer.

Falmir went to talk with the soldiers while Laun motioned to the servants under the tree.  Several things were arranged by both of them with their people and a flurry of activity started.  Several runners were sent to the military encampment, several to the keep.  Laun motioned to Hazalam and he came to her, bowing slightly.

Laun rubbed her belly and had a slight vapid look on her face as she talked quietly to her man.  “Do you recognize the messenger you have been watching?”  Hazalam shook his head and kept his eyes on her, though Laun could see he wanted to look behind him.  “He is an assassin.  Do not touch the message he holds - I suspect it holds poisoned ink.”  He nodded and a flash of hate went across his face.

One of the soldiers came up, a respectful distance between them as he came to attention and saluted.  Laun returned the salute and saw the reaction of the kings messengers at the respect.  “Highness, word has come to the barricade of another traveler.  He says that he is a merchant.  A...something the Red.”

Laun closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a wave of tiredness going through her.  She opened her eyes and said, “Ask him how my cousin Marie is.  If he doesn’t know who she is, do not let him in.  If he does, allow him to pass, with whatever cart he may have.  Bring him here, but under guard.”

The soldier saluted and turned.  Laun heard him running down the road, another soldier falling into step with him.  Laun put her hand out and Hazalam supported her.

“I am suddenly light headed.  See if you can find some thing for me to eat.  At least some water.”

Her man nodded and looked around.  “There’s nowhere for you to sit, Mistress.”

“Stool in the tent.”  Laun was feeling very light headed and concentrated on her breathing as her man went in and grabbed the stool.  His hand was on her shoulder and she sat, perhaps not quite graceful enough as it caught the attention of many people around her.

“Princess?  What’s wrong?”  Falmir dropped the conversation he was having and went to her.

“Just hungry.  I hope.”  Laun’s eyes went to the fake messenger from Liam.  Her voice went lower and said, “You may want to bring the healers.  Pillar or Kell should have some antidotes, sire.”

Falmir motioned to one of the soldiers and with a few words, the soldier took a horse and was riding hard towards the keep in seconds.  Laun put her hand on Falmir and kept him from going towards the man.

“Mistress, I saw rope...?”

Laun nodded.  “It may be time to invite him into the tent for a talk.  Not quite yet.”

Several of the servants were gathering kindling and making a fire on the lee side of the tent.  Hazalam went into the strip of brambles and gathered some berries and mint for Laun.  The sound of a cart coming from the barricade made Laun smile for a moment, though she knew the trouble that it probably meant.

Gyrip the Red came around the tent and his hand went to his cap, pulling it off as he bowed to Laun.  “It is good to see you again, Highness.”

“And you.  My cousin is well?”

“And her husband, Highness.  But they thought you may need a few things.  And I was to give you this with my hand.”  He pulled a small strip of fabric from his belt and handed it to her.  She saw a small broken lock dangling from the end, a different symbol, but Laun caught the smuggling reference.  She looked at the coded embroidery and was able to again only get a few symbols in before her head hurt and she could not read it.  It truly was from Marie.

“I thank you, Gyrip.  If you would hold onto this until you can present it to my List Master, I would be grateful.  Escort?”

The soldiers who had been sent for the merchant came to her and saluted.  She returned the salute where she sat and arrangements were made to get Gyrip and his cart to the keep.  There was a bit of a shuffle to get the cart past the praying man, but they were going down the road towards the keep as more hoofbeats were heard coming from that direction.

Kell almost fell off the horse she was on in the attempt to get off and to Laun’s side.  She was helped down by Falmir himself as Aloen rode up behind her, Edgar and Gem on one horse just a few lengths behind.

Laun turned to Gem and told her quietly, “That man over there.  He is an assassin.  If I am more than just hungry, the message he holds has poison on it.  In a few minutes after Hazalam reappears, invite the man into the tent.  Remember the night you came to me?”

Gem nodded.  “I understand, Mistress.”  She went to stand near the messenger, the man starting to look a little nervous.  Most of the messengers were looking uncomfortable.  Nothing seemed to be happening and except for the Princess, no one had any place to rest.

Kell heard what had been said to Gem.  “Paper. An ink base.  Let me look in your eyes, Laun.”

Kell’s hand went to Laun’s belly, but the other went to her cheek, a thumb pulling her lower lid down.  “Father also handled the paper.  If I have been poisoned, he has been too.”

The healer flicked a glance to the big man.  “He’s a bull.  Wouldn’t show for quite a while.”  She smiled at the snort and went back to examining Laun.

“You wouldn’t happen to have some of the brown stuff in your bag, would you?”  Laun winked at the healer.

Kell stood and looked down at Laun for a moment.  “Laun?  What do you need that for?”

“Some tea.”  Laun would not say any more, but Kell looked over to the messenger and nodded.

It took a little time, but a cart from the keep came, rough benches and other supplies in the back.  A few whispered messages to Falmir and Laun by the people with the supplies brought nods before things were set up.

On either side of the road, away from the crap pits that were lining the ditches, seating was set up, the men looking relieved when they could sit.  Cooking supplies were brought out and set up.  Disa was with the cart and took charge of the domestic situation.

Tea was made of the mint Hazalam had found, the berries eaten quickly and helping with Laun’s light headedness.  Kell was satisfied that if Laun had any toxins in her system that it was low enough that it was not fatal.  A few low words and motions and Gem went into the tent.  Hazalam calmly approached the fake messenger and asked him to join the Princess in the tent for some tea.

Laun waddled into the tent, the stool being brought in by Edgar for his Love.  Laun stood and offered her hand to the man as he was escorted in.  “It has been such a problem with my pregnancy.  I need to eat and half the household comes rushing.”  She sat on the stool with the help of Edgar and smiled at the man.  “I miss my conversations with Liam and I was hoping I could talk to you a bit to see how he is doing.  Would you join me for some tea?”

He bowed and said, “My honor, Highness.”  A mug with fresh mint steeped in the hot water was given to him, a similar mug given to Laun.

Laun sipped on her tea and started chatting about the last time she saw Liam at the Palace and how they were under the tent on the greens.  She was lying, but the man did not know that and went along with it, letting her talk as he drank his tea.  Laun finished her mug and handed it off, not looking to see who had taken it.

She feigned a pain in her head and put her hand to her forehead.  She waved people away when they offered to help.  She saw an expectant look on the man’s face.  Laun smiled at him and stood.  She saw that his defenses were starting to go down and that he was wavering in place.  She went to him and smiled, her tongue tip going along her bottom lip as she looked at the man.

“I hope that your Master won’t need you for a while.”

His eyebrow went up.  “Highness?”

Laun put her hand on his jaw, lightly drawing down her fingers to his chin and then down his throat as she said, “I’m sure you know about my tastes.  Your Master should have told you.”

He swallowed and his eyes closed and did not open though he looked like he was trying to.  “High...”

Before he slumped forward, Laun saw him react to her saying, “The Blue Master does give me good playmates.”

He was on the grass in the tent completely asleep.  Laun stepped back and pointed to him, saying, “Strip him and bind him.”

The rope she had brought was employed to bind him once the stolen clothes were striped from him.  Hazalam and Gem recognized the trial scars and they agreed he was a third rank assassin.  The paper was only handled with something around it and given to Kell to be tested.

There were some interesting reactions from the men outside the tent when the naked body was brought out and thrown into the back of the cart.  Laun was still feeling light headed, but she was certain it was having missed solid food for too long in the heat.

Edgar held Laun and she leaned into him.  “I came when I could.  Dreng is in the burnt house with several others, including Fount.  I saw you sent soldiers to the Grey Waters and I have a protector team there, too.”

“Thank you, my Love.”  Laun was feeling tired and her back had started to cramp slightly.  “I think it may be time for me to go back to the Keep.  The rest of this political mess can be dealt with later.”

Interrogation in the Chamber of the Dead in Chapter 9