the Leathermines

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The rain continued for several days, forcing those working on repairing the roofs and outer shelters to do so in the cold and wet.  The carpenters took as many people as they could to help with the work and it was done in two days.  One accident involving a beam and an arm stopped work for several hours, but there was no loss of life and the work continued.

Unaccustomed to actually working in their own households, five of the nobles found it refreshing and novel to put in work.  Blisters formed on some hands, sore backs and arms for some.  The one noble who did not work alongside the household was told not to after it was found that he was inept and unable to perform any sort of manual labour.  He had always thought that he had a way with a saw, but when he slipped and had to have Lucaris bandage him up, he was banned from the woodshop.  Pots and pans burned his arms as he tried to show Orgia his nonexistent skills in her kitchens, more bandages and a ban from the kitchen soon followed.  He finally just sat and talked to anyone who would come near, even that soon causing friction with the nature of his droning.

The nobles, including Dreng, still did not understand how the household kept running without the layers of caste they were used to.  The King would pull Laun to the side and try to point out ways that she should be doing things, traditional ways, and ask when she would release men to go back out with him.  Laun would listen to him, smile and thank him for his time and wisdom and then ask him to help with another menial job.  Most mornings, the nobles were not even up before Laun would stand and ask her people what should be done for the day.  They understood more when Dreng dragged them out of the apartments they were in one morning and saw the meeting.

The sun was out and burning through the mists left by the rain.  It was changing the cold wet to a stagnant humidity in the castle and keep.  Everyone tried to be outside as much as possible to find the few breezes that wound their way through the land.  The rain had brought on the ripening of some of the fields, most of the household going out to work under the hot sun to bring it into the harvest house before the next line of storms may roll through.

There was a break as the last of the carts that could be loaded rolled away to the harvest house to be unloaded.  The grain would be bundled, stacked and dried in the airy structure, some of the grain feeding the mice that seemed to know when harvest was upon the humans.  Buckets of water were shared and bread broken as bodies lay under what shade they could find.  There was a sense of accomplishment in the camaraderie.

Then the whistle.

Four people were up and running towards the sound before most knew it had happened.  The harvest blades were in hands as the protectors among the harvesters went to see who had called the alert.  One of the women tied up her halter as she ran, binding her breasts to protect them from the underbrush as she ran.

A child was being carried.   He was in ragged clothes, one foot wrapped in cloth and the other had a thin shoe.  The wardsman called for others to check back down the road as he trotted with the barely alive bundle in his arms.

Pillar and Lucaris both were upon the boy as he was placed on a table in the Great Hall.  The call ahead had told them there was an injury, but they were not expecting this.

The boy was stripped to show a burn down his back, the skin falling off black from some of it.  He was awake enough to drink from a cup when placed at his lips, but soon was under as Pillar slipped drops of one of his elixirs onto the boys lips.

Geralk had just been in the library, replacing the lists he had made on the shelves when he heard the commotion outside the windows.  He came down, expecting a fight, but instead a grey ribbon with a small, clapperless bell on it caught his eye in the clothing dumped on the floor.  He pulled at the ribbon, dislodging a folded paper.  He had no caution as he unfolded it and read it right there, first with light from above the page and then with light from behind.

“Where is our Lady?”  Several people all pointed outside but continued to go about their business.

She was up a tree, throwing apples into a bucket on the ground when Geralk found her.  She had not heard the whistle and did not know that they had one more person in their midsts.  But that was not what was important to Geralk.

With a polite turn of his head, he helped Laun down to the ground before saying, “We have news from the outside.”  He handed her the paper and told her what was on it.

It was a missive from Markle.  The coup had come to the Inn and the crossroads.  Several private houses had been burned to the ground, the Inn spared.  Mostly.  The greyworlders in Falmir’s Dark had heard that Marie and Markle had helped one of the households when they passed.  It took much misdirection and some coin, but the bandits had left the Inn, turning South instead of North.  Marie had set out to visit one of the known greyworld leaders, one who had been neutral to most politics over the years, to find out what he may know.  They had to get word to the Salam-Dir household somehow, so they had given directions to the small child and sent him, injured as he was, to find them.

“One hundred five.”

“Laun?”  Geralk was not sure he had heard her properly.

Laun looked at him and repeated, “One hundred five.  That is the count of the household now.”  She held the paper and tried to read it.

Geralk knew that she would not be able to.  “It is a code that we developed over the years.  I know that it is from Markle as he has his code and Marie has hers.”

She nodded and handed it back to her Master of Lists.  “Is there anything I can do about it right now?”

The merchant waved his hands in a neutral motion.  “I have very little more to tell and we will not be able to talk with the child until he is better.”

“Then, if you would, help me back up and take the full basket back to the kitchens.”  Laun was up and picking more apples from the tree before Geralk could say anything.

He did as he was asked and nodded to the two protectors who were several trees over, harvesting, and guarding.

Dreng was not pleased that she had not come in from the orchard when told the news.  He had left his own work beside those in the harvest house and expected to see Laun waiting for him.  He fumed as he thought he was being slighted with her absence.  Laun hadn’t even thought of Dreng when she had continued to pick apples.  She was more concerned that the household had enough to store for the coming winter.

She was carrying a basket of apples through the Great Hall when Dreng blocked her way.  She handed off the apples to hands that appeared at her side and just looked at the angry man in front of her.  The wrinkles around his eyes and between his brows were very deep and he looked old.

“Sire?”

“My.  Lady.”  Dreng was trying to be civil and not doing it well.  “May I have a word with you?”

Laun tipped her head to the side and took in the anger that he was showing.  She could see that he was trying to intimidate her with the way he drew himself up.  He was not too much taller than she, but knew how to look much bigger.  The way he was breathing through his nose reminded her of a bull as it warned someone he was about to charge.  The men he had been seated with at the fireplace all had worried looks on their faces as they peered around their King at her.

Lady Hellon knew how to diffuse anger.  Especially in men.  Laun tried to remember what she had seen but it was not coming to her right then.  She lifted her head up, curtsied and said, “As you wish, Sire.”

He started to walk away from the fire and the people in the Great Hall.  Laun tried to match his stride as they came out into the courtyard.  The curl of air that moved the humidity around was better than inside, but the sun was still hot overhead.  They were on the road, still walking when he started to talk.  “What were you thinking?  Letting me wait in there when news of the battle came in?  What kind of a leader are you?”  Laun had a shock go through her, like a punch in the stomach, but let him continue.  “We have someone unknown come through our ranks, carrying some sort of secret message for you and you blithely saunter in hours later?  What do you mean by it!”

Before she could stop it, Laun angrily said, “And why did you leave your post, sir?”

Dreng had not heard that bitter tone from her before.  It drove the anger higher as he felt the insult had been pushed beyond what he could tolerate.  “Lady! There is no higher post than mine!”

“Then maybe you should go and sit on it!”

“What?”  The angry remark pricked his ego and he felt some of his anger leave.  Before he could regroup, Laun turned on him and would not let him get in a word.

“You are right!  If it wasn’t for YOU, none of this would have happened!  If it wasn’t for you, they would not have had to send that child here.  IF it wasn’t for you, my Master and Mistress would be alive.  IF it wasn’t for YOU, I would have grown up as the noble Lady people tell me I am.  If it wasn’t for you-”  Laun gasped in air before yelling, “my mother would still be alive!”

Gobsmacked.  The King had rarely used or thought of that word.  Right now, his indignation and anger had stopped cold.  He stood there with an empty page of a mind, not having anything to say.

Laun pressed on, even with the tears in her eyes and a suddenly raw throat.  “You, sir, rule on high, not knowing what your people do or think and you think you know best for all.  You came to our home after your own son attempted to KILL YOU and expect us to fall in line as so many foot soldiers.  You, SIR, were welcomed under hospitality and need.  If you think that we children are not up to your standards, perhaps, SIR, you need to acquire some different ones!”

Her voice cracked and her breathing was deep, as if she had been running.  The red on her cheeks was not a becoming flush but the rage she had fire up and out of her.  She hit herself on the chest above the scar that went across her breast.  “I know what I have done to protect my people.  That is good enough for them.  It should be good enough for you.”

Dreng waited too long and Laun was already running away into the underbrush when he said, “Laun...”

Two of the people he had seen in weapons training jogged past, nodded to him and went into the underbrush after their Lady.

 

To Chapter 22  Laun is calmed and soothed.  Edgar and Fount console each other