Back to Chapter 15
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The work that the household had ahead was not particularly hard or uncommon, just much more than most summers. From the hold dug into the woods, the household was working on putting the castle to rights, the tilled land was checked and animals that had not been killed were found and corralled. The household staff cleaned and sorted. The wardsmen were training each other, the Dance Master helping by the request of Edgar. Repairs were done as needed to windows and gates and other things damaged by the raid. Food was gathered, some processed for the larder, some for the day’s meals.
The household was running better every day. And each night, more people moved back into the castle after the common meal. Laun was not one of them.
During the day, Laun would help where she could. She helped to process rabbits as they came into the summer kitchen one day, the skins going into vats of boiled oak leaves as the meat was cooked and smoked. The day of washing all the linens and clothes they could, ropes hung between trees to provide enough drying space, used up everybody’s backs and shoulders. Orgia gleaned what she could from the trampled enclosed gardens and sent the kitchen staff out into the woods and fields to find more resources. A day of clearing out more farmers’ huts was a low day, but needed as a few of the servants asked if they could go back to the land, become the farmers for the household. The fruit that was gathered and the honey that was scraped to make ciders and meads for the winter scented the hands and clothes of everyone for several days after.
Noon meal would be under the trees of the outdoor Great Hall each day. The plans that were discussed were open to all, ideas were exchanged, but Laun found that she was the one to yea or nay for the household. She found council with most every one of her people on at least one subject. They would eat, talk and then continue with that day’s needs.
And each night, Laun would sleep under the stars, surrounded by others on the same sleeping mat. More of the household paired up and within two weeks, the day activities on Lady Hellon’s Hill became split from the night activities. More of the bedding was brought back into the keep and castle with the people to sleep on them. The summer dryness was good for sleeping at night, but the dryness also concerned those who watched the skies and the fields.
It was the people sleeping on Lady Hellon’s Hill who felt the heavyness of the clouds in the morning, the dread feeling waking them before dawn. Fount found he was on his feet looking for something in the dark before he knew he was there. The night was too quiet. Laun felt the coolness at her back and woke. She felt the tension and put a hand over Disa’s mouth at her other side. The maid started but felt her Lady’s hand and stayed still. Laun felt a nod from her maid and rolled to her knees.
Fount was out of the sleeping alcove, pulling on his boots as he went. A night bird call sounded through the woods, a responding call from outside the sleeping area. Lucaris flowed onto the mat, her low profile appearing with a night lantern sheltered by a cape. The other women on the mat were woken and they all dressed with the tunics they could find in the light of the lantern. Canes and staves and blades were at hand as they touched each other in the dark. Slippers and sandals were left at the side of the bedding as they all left as silently as possible into the night.
Another night bird call and Lucaris made the response call. She led the women down one path and to the backs of two of the sentries. The sentries heard them coming only a few steps away and were glad they were friendly. Laun held her hand to the wardsman’s shoulder and he tapped on her hand four times. Laun passed the number to the other women with her.
The sound of metal against leather made them all go to their knees. They were behind a hedge of thornbushes that lined the road to the keep in that area. It offered some protection, but only from the waist down. Laun could now hear shuffling footsteps in the road. She tapped six onto the closest wardman’s shoulder. He paused and tapped back six. The new number was passed to everyone.
The people on the road were headed towards the keep, that was certain. From their station, it sounded like only six people, and all on foot. Lucaris squose Laun’s arm and backed away. A few seconds later, the night bird call again sounded to tell Pillar how many people they thought were there. Laun started to follow the people on the road through the paths in the underbrush. It looked like there was only the one group on the road, but Laun needed to make sure.
The moon had been full a few nights before. The waning moon still had enough light to show silhouettes, though the clouds that were moving in were thick and covered the moon off and on. It was during the darkness that Laun and her women went around the bushes and onto the road. They were well past Lady Hellon’s Hill and the men in front of them seemed to be the only ones not from Salam-Dir. The moon was again free of the thick clouds.
The men in the road stopped. They had been surrounded in the darkness and found they could not go forward or back. Swords were drawn and the men tried to face all the silent warriors.
Laun stepped forward, stave in hand, only a tunic against the night. She did not say anything to the defensive men but stood there watching them. They watched her, too.
“We have no money. Leave us be!” The tired voice came from one of the men who seemed to stoop with pain as he raised his sword.
Laun took half a step forward and planted the stave in front of her. Several others also stepped forward from the circle of Salam-Dir people and faced the unknown men.
“Who are you? Let us pass!” Another of the men had spoken, a voice that was familiar to some, even through the roughness.
Laun spoke. “This is the land of the household of Salam-Dir.”
Several of the blades fell to the ground, one of the men following on his knees. “We made it.” The voice was more familiar, even though Laun had only heard it for the first time several weeks before.
“Sire?” The moon was covered by the clouds as she stepped forward. Lanterns appeared in the circle and the old nobles showed battle and travel on every inch of them.
The winds before the storm kicked up the dust from the road warning of the rains to come. Voices raised and called and people were suddenly busy on that road. The King of the Midlands had made it to their household. A thunderstorm, the first of the season, was baring down on them. There were things to do that all had to be done right then.
The nobles were ushered into the keep, past the repaired gates. Servants appeared and disappeared into Lady Hellon’s Hill to reappear with bedding and goods that should not get wet. Dreng was surrounded again, not by his nobles but by the Salam-Dir women who had been at Laun’s back. Everyone else who could help was up and doing what they could to secure things for what looked like a nasty storm. As the rain hit, the last of the household ran into the keep with wet backs but dry goods in their arms.
The actual Great Hall seemed foreboding to Laun. Torches and lanterns were lit, the two great fireplaces built up and lit on either end. Most of the tables and benches were still under the trees, but some furniture was scavenged at that late hour for some people to sit on and at. Orgia looked like she had been rudely awakened, but was doing her best to make sure that the visiting nobility was taken care of. One was being ministered to by Pillar, one by Lucaris. Wounds were shown and the apprentices that both of the shaman had drawn from the household were their legs as things were asked for.
One bench placed near one of the fires held Dreng and one of his nobles, the bearded man who had carried Laun to the King’s chambers. The tired nobles drank hot tea and marveled at the skin being shown by the women around them until they realized that weapons were in those feminine hands. They were not fawning on the noble men, they were there to protect them. Salam-Dir wardsmen were also there, attending to the nobles, and to their Lady Laun.
Laun had not sat when the King and his man had. There were still people who needed to be directed and things handled. Leaks in roofs and windows had shown themselves, forcing settled members to find other places for the night. Edgar came in carrying one of the boars they had been able to corral, the neck still dripping blood. Orgia had the kitchens fired up and before what should have been dawn, a feast was underway on the hearths for the household and guests. One of the younger women came to Laun with a simple question and went away happy as Laun had given her a good answer, a small laugh behind hands by the women around the nobles.
Dreng watched through his exhaustion. He could not tell who was in charge of what, who was a servant, who was a slave. And his blood who he had found briefly was touching and being touched by men and women as they came to her. He had come to them in the middle of the night, but what seemed to be a chaotic group was flowing around them and somehow getting things done. He did not understand and his need for formality screamed at him.
“Lady Laun, can we retire to your chambers?” Dreng had finished the tea and felt he needed privacy to talk with her.
Laun nodded at the last person to come to her with something and turned to Dreng. “Sir, I haven’t chosen them yet. My bower has truly been that and it is now under the storm.” Laun waved to someone behind Dreng and quilts were around his shoulders and his men’s shoulders. Several of the dancers moved and let the platters of breads and fruit take their place on the floor at the nobles’ feet.
Duke Malis spoke up next, concern in his voice. “You...are the Lady we met...”
Laun inclined her head at him. “To put it bluntly, the death was too much for me and I had been avoiding it.” Font came to Laun’s side carrying one end of another bench. Laun looked around and saw that the activity had settled down in the Great Hall. Orgia and her staff had warm drinks in everyone’s hand. The wounded nobles were bedded down where they had been lain, still being attended by the shaman couple. The wind was trying it’s best to get in through the beams in the roof or the windows in the thick walls, but it was warm and secure in the Great Hall right then.
Laun sat on the bench, an angle to Dreng that allowed her to see the fire as well as the King. Disa sat on one side of her and Font on the other. One of the dancers sat at her Lady’s feet and several of the others faded into the rest of the household. Laun looked at the King, and his man and wondered. She then asked, “What brings you here?”
To the King’s ear it was bordering on insulting. It was as if he had decided to stroll past and stop in for a sip of tea. Having been on the run from his own son for weeks, he could not think of anyone else to go to within his own kingdom that had not already been slaughtered or turned. And she asked him, in a very calm, conversational tone why is was there.
To the Salam-Dir household members, this was very much in line with how Laun was. She was direct when they expected others to be subtle. Her innocence was a defense that was slowly being chipped away. Her insecurity making her easy to talk to and willing to hear many sides. But when she made a decision, the household was behind her.
Malis saw the fury building in his master’s face and spoke above the noise in the Great Hall. “We seek hospitality in the least and your swords at the most.”
Laun nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I hope we have given you the first, but I do not know about the second.”
Dreng could not hold his tongue at that, snarling out, “Lady, you and yours would not exist if it weren’t for me.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the rough tone. She saw the Kings’ man put a hand on Drengs arm and felt Font start to rise from the bench. A hand on his knee and Font stayed next to his Lady. She turned to Disa and asked for help with her eyes.
“Majesty, my Lady Laun would like you to know that we welcome you with open arms. Our household is depleted and we are still mourning the loss of our family.” Disa saw a comment forming on King Dreng’s lips and pushed forward with, “We are hardly able to protect ourselves, Majesty. Our ranks will need to be refreshed before you can be served.”
The calm, courtly but direct way of the servant cut the comment hanging on his tongue. The King looked at the empty mug and stiffly shrugged. “I think things will look better in the morning. Do you have a chamber I may retire to?”
Geralk was behind the bench and cleared his throat. “Majesty, rooms have been found for you and yours who are not being tended by our healers.” Dreng kept the quilt around his shoulders and followed the merchant through the Great Hall towards the awaiting bed.
She was shivering as she sat by the fire and between her trusted people. Laun could not stop the shakes going through her arms and body. “I am not ready for this...”
Fount stiffly put the arm that was healing around Laun and held her close. One of the dancers came and motioned to Disa, the maid nodding. Disa stroked Laun’s cheek until her Lady looked up.
“Nothing more can be done tonight, Lady. A room has been found and is waiting for you.”
A flash of something unreadable went across Launs’ eyes and she nodded. She stood and stretched, finding that the trembling lessened as she did so. She reached her hands towards the fire, warming them before she turned away. Lady Laun made it slowly through the Great Hall as she stopped and at least touched the shoulder of everyone still awake if not talking briefly to them. Pillar and Lucaris were finishing up with the wounded nobles and grasped hands with Laun as she passed by.
From the light and sleepy activity in the Great Hall, the lamp lit corridor was very still as they passed through it. Laun thought she knew where they were going and tried to concentrate on the storm sounds that came from outside through the thick glass windows, not on the ghosts that were lurking in her mind.
The door that was held open was not the one Laun had been expecting. This was a room that had been a storage room the last time she knew. It had been cleared out when the household was looking for supplies the first few days. After that, a few people had gotten together and decided that, when Laun was ready to be in the castle, this was to be her room. It had been easy to clean it, change it, without Laun knowing. She had rarely gone into the castle further than the kitchens in the last two weeks.
The way Laun had slept well was contrary to most all the traditions of nobility. The bodies that provided warmth was not unknown, though looked down upon. Sleeping with men, too, would have raised quite a few eyebrows in other households. The open knowledge of this led to an unusual room.
Lamps were attached to the stone walls where there weren’t tapestries in the small area. The light was everywhere, showing the small anti-chamber that had been built quickly but well. There were forged hooks on all the walls, some with clothing hanging from them. A shelf on the wooden wall across from the corridor held a few trinkets, and a washing bowl. Laun looked around and just watched as Fount took his boots off, his tunic sliding off him and then onto the hook above. She liked how he looked and was happy that he was there with them.
Disa also stripped her outer layers, going down to just a skirt. She kept looking at her own hands and nothing else as she put her things onto a hook and turned to her Lady. Disa had not objected to others sleeping around her being down to skin, but had never let anyone see her as such. The brand on her arm was purple against her skin, the thing that showed her death sentence. Laun went to touch it and then pulled back.
“Does it hurt?” Disa shook her head and picked up a cloth from the shelf. Another woman came in and only paused momentarily before also disrobing. A pitcher of water was poured over the cloth in Disa’s hand and her face and hands were cleansed. More water was poured into the bowl so other cloths could be wetted for cleaning. Fount wiped himself down where his breeches weren’t covering.
Laun followed their lead and took her thin tunic off and found a hook that was free. She was still shaking slightly, but more from the cold than the reaction to King Dreng at that point. She used a cloth and cleaned her face first. The water was chilly but felt good. She continued down until she was at her feet wiping off the dirt from the road. The wounds were to the point that they were more of a nuisance than painful. The stitches in the bad wounds had been drawn out the week previous and even the scar that was developing on her chest was an angry pink, but not painful.
Fount was waiting with Disa, an agitation in his movements. Laun was done cleaning herself and she was led around the new wall and into the sleeping chamber its self.
Most of the floor had been layered with mats and sheepskins and other bedding until the raised nature of the sleeping area was pronounced. There were already a few people in the bedding, Laun seeing the sleeping form of Kelli towards one wall and two of the other dancers talking together towards what would have been the head of the bed. The one window into the room had the rain blowing onto it, but that was the only thing to note that the outside world existed. Flowers were hung in pots chained to the ceiling and the scent was just like if they had been outside in the now sodden bower.
Fount took Laun’s hand and led her into the middle of the bedding. He knelt and held a blanket back for her. She had to crawl part of the way as the bedding was more unsteady than she was expecting. The clean and soft linen was welcoming. Laun found that, even with the dread she still felt about being inside the castle lurking in her mind, she felt at ease. At home.
Disa and Fount lay next to Laun and their Lady was deep in sleep before the worst of the storm started to roll over the land.
Chapter 17 Launs closest men are resisting their needs with her
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