the Leathermines

Back to  Chapter 37 - If this is the first Chapter you have seen, start back at Chapter 1

The day was promising to be a good one.  Quiet preparations for Dreng’s birthday were underway, the celebration to be during the household dinner that night.  Dreng must have known something was up, but he was busy helping one of the young female servants carry some of the laundry from the rooms he and his men had taken back and forth to the keeps’ laundry, keeping him busy for most of the day.

Laun had been out on the horse several days in a row, learning from both the mare and Fount how to ride.  The training for the palfrey was subtle, the way the beast moved under her and felt the directions sometimes even before Laun thought she had given them.  Her back and legs were tired, but she was settling into the role of rider.  This had been after a session with the protectors, learning and re-learning movements that were both dance and weapons-work.

Word came from the protectors that there was someone with mules coming up the road.  Laun paced Grace back to the stable and headed for her chamber.  She sent out word to the household that they had a possible ally coming, and they were not to mention her by name, or gender.

Edgar was the one who greeted the man.  He was kept in the Great hall as the evening’s preparations were made around him.  He had hot tea and fresh bread in his hand and his stomach.  Neils sat next to him and, for once, drew out stories from the man instead of expounding upon his own.  Orgia sized him up and offered him a basin with water and a cloth to clean himself with.  He was comfortable and drowsy from the fire at his back, the food in his belly and the welcoming companionship letting him relax.

Dreng noticed the new man at the fire, but was being led along by the young Bett.  They were both carrying folded linens and she was having fun making him work.  The King nodded to the man who nodded back, and then had a momentary odd look on his face.  He went back to looking into the warm tea in his hand and trying not to contemplate more than the next sip.

The tables were slightly rearranged again, this time with a head table that was right under the Salam-Dir banner.  A few table runners, a huge salt cellar that had been found in a storage room and wooden trenchers instead of bread ones were laid out on the head table.  Everyone was busy, knew their jobs and were talking about everything except the celebration, and the guest.

Orgia sent runners to both Dreng and Laun, telling them that the meal would be ready in about half an hour.  This was fairly unusual, but it was also somewhat early for a meal to begin.  Laun sent back thanks and continued to sit as Disa and another woman laced red ribbon through her hair.

“That is enough, don’t you think?”  Laun held up a hand mirror and looked at the elaborate hair dressing.

Disa shook her head and said, “With the dress and accessories, if your hair is not done properly, you will just look like a pig in the dress.”

“Oink, oink.”  Laun scrunched up her nose and tried to look like a pig.

“You know what I mean.  You are not completely dressed until you are actually completely dressed.  That means everything.  You are the one who wanted to do this.”

Laun tried to nod, but was stilled by a stern hand.

The dress and accessories and hair and slippers were all in place, a dab of some colored cosmetic on Laun’s cheek the last thing Disa fussed over.  Laun stood up, not used to the heaviness of the velvet and chain dress.  She smoothed the front down over the boiled leather corset that had been in the same chest and felt very strapped in.  It was all subtle armor pieces, from the supportive corset to the metal strips down the inside of the underdress to the fine silver warnetting that was sewn into the heavy velvet dress.  It did not feel as heavy as it had while just holding it.  She did feel weighed down slightly by all clothing, but she was getting used to that aspect every day.

The two small daggers that had been found in the chest were placed into small slits on either side of the front of the dress, the hilts pointed down and secured with small ribbons.

“Now I know why my mother did not want to wear this, but I also understand why Lady Hellon may have wanted her to.”  Laun moved around the room and felt comfortable in the outfit.

The three women went towards the Great Hall.  Almost everyone was already there.  It was a boisterous, almost rowdy group on the other side of the door.  Laun paused and took in the noise and commotion before stepping through.  A small cheer went up and some of the people around her bowed or curtseyed to Laun.

Lady Laun walked slowly through the room, touching shoulders, greeting people and having small laughs over some of the antics of the children as they ran around the room.  She glided when she walked, the heavy skirts hiding her steps.  The glints of red in her hair matched the gold shot velvet of the overdress, a worked brass and gold belt holding the fabric close to her corset-supported waist.  She looked elegant, a Lady and a woman.

The guest looked up and watched as the woman slowly came from the other side of the room.  She was close and familiar with everyone around her, smiles following as she passed.  Her own smile seemed contagious.  She approached the fire he was sitting at and he felt himself stand.  She held out her hand to him and he bowed over it to kiss it.

He felt a callus on her hand that seemed out of place with the delicate touch and elegant fingers.  He also saw a glimpse of a scar at her wrist that peeked out when the heavy fabric moved.

“I hear you have been at one of the farmer’s huts for a few days.  I hope it was enough shelter for you.”  Laun talked in soft, low tones.

He dropped his hand from hers.  “Yes, my Lady.  I had passed several of the black-marked huts and found that I needed shelter.  Since they were marked with death, but they had been cleaned, I didn’t see the harm.”  He stood and looked at the woman in front of him.  She seemed a bit out of place with the plain people around her.

“My Lady, you are one of the nobles of the household?”

Laun smiled.  “Yes, you could say that.  I should properly introduce myself.  I am Lady Laun Salam-Dir.  And...?”

He bowed again, his injured arm getting in the way of a true courtly bow.  “I am Jake Vectsal.”

Laun had been studying and tried to be subtle with her comment of, “Oh, Vectsal?  I thought I saw the Hardridge blaze.”

He looked down at his belt.  “Denis Hardridge was my Uncle.  I think I am the only one who was able to get out of the hold before the usurpers came in.”  He looked angry but calmed himself before he said, “I do not wish to bring up such a nasty moment at such a pleasant one, Lady Laun.”

Laun put her hand lightly on his arm and said, “I am sure that my Grandfather will want to talk with you about the battle.”  Jake’s eyes went slightly wide.  “I, of course, wish to know, also, dear sir.”

There was a commotion by one of the doors and Dreng, flanked by his men, came in.  There was a cheer that came up and Laun saw Jake’s jaw almost unhinge and hit the floor.  She took his arm and said, “Have you met my Grandfather?”  She had to almost drag him to start walking with her.

“Grandfather, I wish to present a guest.  Jake Vectsal, nephew of Denis Hardridge.”  Laun stepped back and watched as the young man’s mouth tried to work but couldn’t.

Dreng had very little ceremony left in him after living and working alongside the Salam-Dir household.  He took the young mans’ arm in a warriors embrace, palm to elbow and pulled him in.  “I am sorry to hear of your Uncle.  Denis was a good man and a good ally.”  Dreng motioned to the head table.  “Will you sit with me?”

The other nobles greeted the guest as they walked to the places they wished to sit, some at the head table to continue conversations with Dreng, some at tables with the household.  Laun sat at Dreng’s left, a few spaces beyond his Majesty and on the other side of Jake.

Orgia came out and people started to find any place to sit.  It became quiet as people focused on the chatelaine.  “By request, tonight is a special celebration.  Your Majesty,” Orgia curtseyed to him, “Lady Laun told us of a special day of yours.”

Dreng started to turn bright red.  He shot Laun a heated look and stood from the bench.  “Yes, it is true that I am celebrating my birthday today.  Or, at least I would have, if I hadn’t been stuck in the laundry all day.”  A giggle from the servant who had been put in charge of keeping him busy made others around her start to laugh.

Orgia held up a hand and the room became quiet again.  “You probably could smell it for most of the day.  For your pleasure, we have roast boar, drunken goose, pies of apple and berry as well as the delicious breads from our shy baker.  The cheeses are fresh and the ale aged.  Please bring in the boar!”

The boar had been split in half and roasted on two spits.  Both were carried in and placed in the center of the room.  Orgia carved the cheek of one and Disa the cheek of the other.  One platter each was presented to King Dreng and Lady Laun.  They took the morsels and tasted them.  Laun nodded, Dreng’s eyes rolled back and the feast began.

The boar was not the only thing in the middle of the room.  The tables had been arranged to keep an open space so most everyone could see.  There had been a call out to the household for entertainment and the first person who approached was Niels.  He told a reasonably short story of one of the first times he had met Dreng as a small boy.  The details seemed to slide around a bit, but it included a fish, some sticks and a chastisement from their mothers.  It held everyone in suspense, and laughter, for quite some time.

Niels bowed and went back to sit with the younger members of the household.  Talk sprung up and pitchers of drinks were being passed in no time.  It quieted down slightly and one of the teams of protectors came forward to do a demonstration.  It was a combined team, and they had decided to dress up a little.  They both wore dark green tunics, the woman with a longer split skirt, the man with breeches.  They bowed to the head table and started.

Her staff went right by his ear, his sword between her legs.  There was a beat to the steps, an undercurrent of both sensual and aggressive tones as they came closer, both with weapons as well as their bodies.  They ended, embraced with her staff hitting the floor on one side of them, his sword piercing the air on the other.  The Great Hall took a moment, but it was filled with cheering and clapping as the two parted and bowed again to the head table.

Another remove was announced, Edgar heralding, “Apple compote in chickens, fish in butter and onions and a flat, sweet crispbread.”

Laun had already eaten far too much, but had to share pieces from others as they came up to congratulate Dreng.  She was very impressed with the amount of food, as most nights, they had enough, but not this variety.

The next entertainment was a musician’s delight.  They had been able to find close to twenty people who joined in the middle of the room.  Several of the harvest songs were played, getting voices raised.  The last piece, however, was something that one of the older musicians remembered from when he was in the Capitol City decades before.  A chamber piece that was somber and brought a tear to Dreng’s eye.  The King stood and applauded at the end, holding out his hand to the musicians as they went by.

Jake was not as overwhelmed as he was at the beginning of the meal, but he was dumbstruck at the celebration.  In the middle of a war, they were eating and laughing as if there was nothing wrong.  It felt good, but he was feeling guilty about it.

Laun saw the sad look on the guest’s face.  “Is there anything I can do for you?  You do not seem to be enjoying this.”

He shook his head.  “No, I just thought I might never see something like this again.”

Laun put her hand on his shoulder briefly.  “I know.  That is why I asked for it to happen.  We need something to work for, strive for.  Without a celebration, we are not really alive, are we?”  She smiled and was glad when he smiled back.

Little Emmy was the next up.  She held onto Niels’ hand as she stood in the middle of the floor and recited a poem for Dreng.  When she was done, the noble pushed her towards the King, she was shy for a moment, but then ran towards Dreng.  She ducked under the table and climbed into his lap, hugging him before climbing back down and running circles around the open space for a few laps.  Most everyone laughed or said, “Aw!”

The next remove was announced, the two dancers holding a huge platter between them as they said, “We would like to present hard eggs, soft cheeses, spicy sausage and mild fruits.”  They went around the room, starting where they were until they hit the head table.  A special platter was brought forward from the kitchens and presented to Dreng before the large platter went the rest of the way around the room.

The King was enjoying things greatly.  He loved as the dancers finished serving and started dancing.  The dance master and a few musicians made beats and melody as the dancers swept around the room.  Most of them were covered in a sheer material, no longer bare breasted, but very enticing.  They flowed and jumped and dazzled the crowd.  Laun quietly excused herself from the table and went to the awaiting Fount.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Laun nodded, waiting for the pause in the crowd’s applause and talk before saying, “I feel the need to do something, and we have been practicing so hard.  I feel confident in her, and I think she feels confident in me.”

Fount embraced Laun and gave her a heated kiss.  She felt herself flush and was still thinking of that kiss when she walked to the center of the open space.

“My people, my family.  I am so happy that we are all here to be able to celebrate King Dreng’s birthday.  It has been a hard time, but we have more than survived.”  Applause started and she waited for it to die down, walking as she did so, looking at faces and positioning herself.

“As you know, we have had several foundlings come to our lands.  We have taken in most, been fair with those who were sent away.”  Solemn nods went around the room.  “If I may be permitted, I would like to dance for you with one of those foundlings tonight.”  Laun turned to Dreng and curtsied.  He waved and smiled at her, leaning back as far as he could without falling off the bench.

The dance started with the drumbeat from the Dance Master.  Simple and easy to sway for Laun in the heavy dress.  She was able to do skirt swings that the weighted skirt were perfect for.  She was dancing near the head table and most people missed that a fully outfitted horse was being led to the middle of the room.

Laun turned and stopped, the skirt continuing around her, wrapping her with the velvet like a red flower closing for the night.  She stepped forward towards the horse and Grace took a step towards Laun.  Laun stepped to the side and Grace mirrored the motion.  Laun stepped forward and, again, Grace mirrored.  They approached each other like that to the beat of the drum until they were side by side, one facing the Head table, one away.  Laun clicked her tongue and they went sideways away from each other.  They stepped until they almost were in the tables.  Laun then stamped her foot twice with the beat.  Grace answered with two delicate strokes of her hoof on the stone floor.  They moved back towards each other to the middle of the room.

Laun was nervous about the next part.  She fell to the floor, gasps around her from the onlookers.  The horse moved sideways and then walked around her.  The horse went down onto her knees and waited.  Laun moved and swirled the skirt on the floor around her.  She turned and kept swirling the skirt until she had swirled it over Grace’s back.  She put her leg over and locked into the saddle.

Grace stood, Launs’ skirt draping over her haunches.  Without taking a lead or rein, Laun directed the horse around the floor.  Laun moved, leaned and did arm movements that complemented what Grace was doing under her.  It was only a few minutes, but Laun was very tired as Grace made her own bow to Dreng, still with Laun on her back.  Laun felt her energy both fall as she dismounted the way she had gotten on and her energy soar as she swirled around the room, and then took the last beat and fell into a deep curtsey in front of the Head table.

Dreng came around the table and helped Laun up himself.  He grasped her hands and then her waist, pulling her into a strong embrace.

“You are the best present I could have ever gotten this year.”  He kissed her forehead and held her as the room filled with applause.  Grace took some exception to the noise and got up from where she was still laying and bumped Laun in the back, almost knocking them over.

Fount got ahold of the lead and, after Laun put her hand over Graces’ nose for a moment, led her out of the noise-filled room.

Laun needed to be supported back to the seat on the bench as her legs once again tried to go out from under her after the strain of being graceful on the horse.  She drank most of a tankard of ale pushed to her and took a big breath.  Edgar was at her back and let her lean against his legs as his hands were on her shoulders.  Laun put one hand over one of his and pressed her cheek into him for a moment.

Jake was just looking at all the people around him.  He felt both out of place and welcomed, awed by what he had just seen and confused about the obvious pain the Lady near him was in.  The nobles around him were avoiding ceremony, except when it was important and necessary.  The household around him swirled like Lady Laun’s skirts had, and yet, there was a stillness, a place for everyone.  His attention went to the center of the room as a maid stood there, holding a basket very similar to what he had been sold.

Laun waved to the maid and Disa cleared her throat.  The commotion in the room quieted as Disa raised her fist.  She lowered her fist and stepped towards the head table.

“Your Majesty, I present to you our last remove.  It is yours to do with as you wish.”  She placed the basket on the table and pulled the covering off as she stepped back.

Dreng looked into the basket and let out a huge laugh.  He stuck his hands into the basket and pulled out a handful of candied nuts.  He also had a walnut shell in one hand and the glint in his eye told that he knew what it was.

Without hesitation, King Dreng pulled his blade at his hip and used the hilt to crack the nut open.  A smile was on his face as he picked up a small trinket that had been hidden in the shell.  “I haven’t seen these since I was a child!”

His hands went into the basket and fished out more of the walnut shells.  He started to throw them about the room, hitting some people in the back, some being caught.  There were small squeals from some of the people, not all women, as they opened the nuts to find coins, necklaces and other trinkets in them.

A song started up and the room was filled with music as people started to wander about, talking, drinking and coming to the King for candied nut largess.  Laun was happy that it had gone well.  It had gone better than she had predicted.

And the tiredness really started to gnaw at her.

Fount came in from doing a partial grooming on Butterflies Grace and went to Laun’s side.  He leaned down and kissed her, lingering perhaps a bit too long.  “You were amazing.”

Laun pressed her forehead against his.  “It was all Grace.  She is amazing.”

Fount put his hand on her forehead.  “Are you doing alright?  You are warm.”

Laun realized he was right.  “I think it is the clothes.  I really should have worn something lighter, but this was the most formal thing I had...  And it was my mother’s.”

Dreng was beside Laun. He leaned down and said into her ear, “Thank you.  Go rest.  We will have war council in the morning.”

Laun nodded and gave him a peck on the cheek.  She turned to Jake and said, “You are welcome for the night to sleep in the wardsmen’s quarters.  There are several pads that I believe are available.  Get some rest.  We will speak in the morning.”

Laun was helped up and had a little group gather around her as she went through the room and out the door.  Jake watched and was still confused.  He leaned to Dreng and asked, “Your Majesty, if you would answer me this...  Who is she?  I had not heard you had a female grandchild.”

Dreng pushed some of the candied nuts at the young man.  “She, by right of writ and by right of arms is the Lady Salam-Dir.  She leads-” he motioned around him, “us.  Even I follow where she leads.  I have claimed her as my own since her father has not.”  The King crunched on a sweet almond and that was the end of the conversation.

 

Night Maneuvers in Chapter 39