the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 48

 

“Damnit.”

The light was barely more than it had been when Silar had fallen asleep, his arm around Laun.  He felt rested, though his legs twitched when he moved them.  She had taken more out of him than he had realized.  He opened his eyes partially and confirmed that she was not beside him.  He felt other bodies and heard other breaths and one snore.

And then he heard the soft voice again, swearing.  This time there was a small wood on stone sound, too.  And then muffled footfalls and a gasp.

He opened his eyes fully and turned slowly.  There was a shadow in front of the dawn-lit windows.  It was stretching, pacing and swinging something in lunges.  And then the object was dropped, the rug muffling the hit of wood on stone.

Silar could see that it was Laun as she turned towards the night lamp.  She was holding one wrist and flexing it in a pained manner before picking up the wooden practice sword again.  Silar thought he could hear knuckles crack as she swung the sword over her head.

The light was growing through the windows and Silar was enjoying seeing Laun try to practice.  Her form was stiff, but there was an underlying strength and discipline that he appreciated.  She was naked, her body trying to do what she wanted, pain and disuse showing in most of her movements.  There was just something about that hold that was making her drop the sword at the same point every time in her kata.  She was frustrated, but she picked up the sword again and again and tried over and over.  Until the sword dropped, at the same place in the routine, again.  She picked up the wooden sword and held it in front of her.  The light was not needed for him to see that the frustration was high enough that it might come out, the wood taking the brunt.

Silar pulled back the covers, purposely making noise.  Laun did not turn, but she did loosen her hold on the sword.  She started in the routine again, getting to the place in the kata where she dropped the sword and stopped.  She then started from the beginning again.

Silar carefully got out of bed, placing his feet as far out from the bedframe as possible to miss the sleeping form of Ali.  He was split between helping Laun and finding the privy.  He took personal inventory and found he had some time before his bodily needs had to be dealt with.

Laun was almost to the point where she would have dropped the sword again and stopped.  She swung up to position and then let her arms just drop to her side.  Her shoulder hurt and she hated looking like an apprentice in front a master.  Silar was standing on the cold stone, arms behind his back.  Laun started over again and this time took the chance, but dropped the sword.

Silar did not say anything, but went to the arming tree and picked up one of the wooden swords behind it.

Laun had picked up the sword and had gone back to the first position.  It was a routine she had seen practiced but had not been able to do herself.  She had woken early, Silar at her back, not Edgar, and that had brought her fully out of sleep.  She felt restless and had started warming up.  The routine had seemed simple and she had a head for choreography.  Except for that one part.

Laun started the routine and Silar mimicked what she was doing.  She had almost remembered what she had seen, changing it for her body without realizing it.  She swung, blocked, swung...  It flowed well until the turn with the sword.  The sword made a little jump in her hand and fell, hitting the rug.

Silar went back to first position and waited for her.  He did not look directly at her, did not say anything.  Laun had the sword in hand and shook out her arms.  She started and he went through the kata with her again.  And again, she dropped the sword.

Before she picked up the sword, he held out his hand to her.  She held her hand out, but he motioned for the other one.  He felt on her wrist and found that she winced when he pressed in a certain place and the bones moved when they were not supposed to.  It was right where the wound encircled her wrist.

He went down on his knees and put his practice sword on the rug.  He took a hold of the hand, massaged it, stretched it and then bent it at the wrist, overextending it slightly before pushing at it again.  Laun gasped as the wrist went back in.  Silar kept massaging it until Laun said, “Thank you.”

Silar stood, sword in hand.  He went back to the first position and waited.  Laun picked up the sword and stood next to him.  She was able to go through the routine, getting past the part where she had been dropping the sword and stopped right after.  She sighed and smiled in the pale light.

Silar smiled, too, but bowed to her and put the wooden sword he was using back.  He looked for his clothing and pulled his breeches up before leaving to find the privy.

Laun was not entirely happy with her workout, but with Silar quietly being there and putting her wrist back in place, she was able to go through the motions from start to end without dropping the sword.  She practiced until the light coming through the window told her that Orgia would most likely be in the kitchens.

Laun pulled on a tunic, hoping it was the one she was wearing the evening before.  She dismissed the thought of putting her boots on, even though she knew it would be chilly in the rest of the keep.  Breeches went on and she thought she heard rustling in the bed as she closed the door.

There were still guards at the door.  Not the same ones that had been there, but Laun recognized them, in the gloom.

“How was the night?”

“Much quieter than yours, Lady.”

She touched his cheek and then his partner’s cheek before going down the tower stairs.  She popped her head into the old sleeping chamber and backed out again as there were five people in the bed, and none of them seemed to be sleeping.  Laun was still sore from the night before and did not want to interrupt what was surely a therapeutic session.

There were people sleeping in the Great Hall again.  It looked like some of them had stayed there because of drinking too much of Orgia’s ale.  That was not the first morning that she had seen that.  It would have to stop, the barrels would have to be put away after meals.  It was not just because the lure of the ale to deaden pains internal and external could be addictive, they really did not have as much as they normally would at that time of year.  Resources had to be saved until they were free to trade with others again.

Orgia was indeed in the kitchen.  She waved to one of the others up at that hour and led Laun into the laundry area.  A basket was uncovered and Laun was very pleased with the contents.

“And you are sure he will wear this?”  Orgia had a strong note of doubt in her voice.

Laun nodded and took the basket.  “I will make sure he has it right now.  The others are ready?”

Orgia smiled and said, “Not the easiest, but I had four different people working on it to keep the secret.”  She placed her finger under her lower lip and winked.

Laun leaned on Orgia, her arms too full to give a hug to the older woman.  She went and found the second floor rooms that Dreng and most of his men had been in for the last month.  She scratched and Miles opened the door for her.

“This is a surprise, Lady!  You have never visited the royal enclave before!”  He opened the door fully and Laun went in.

The rooms were three connected rooms that at one time had been a nursery for the nobles of Salam-Dir.  It had not been that for a generation, though Laun wondered if they would need to take it back in about seven months or so.  They were plainly furnished for the noble men, except for a few hides that had been tacked up on the wall.

Dreng came out of the room he and Bett had claimed.  “Laun!  How is my favorite Granddaughter?”  He motioned and someone took the basket before he hugged her, pecking her on the forehead.

“Well, as far as I know, I am your only Grand-”

“Oh!  That is beside the point.  What brings you here on the day of the quail hunt?”

Laun motioned to the basket on the ground.  “My chatelaine was tired of mending your old clothes, so she thought that you needed some more sturdy ones for today.”

Laun saw the wink as he said, “Ah!  Wonderful.  She really is always thinking of us, isn’t she?”

Laun smiled.  “Indeed, Grandfather.”  Laun felt a real twinge in her back and looked around for someplace to sit.  A chair with cushions was vacated and Laun was promptly escorted to it.

Dougal took advantage and sat next to his cousin.  “I am glad you are well, Lady.  I am completely jealous of many of the exploits your people have told me of, though.”

Laun looked at him and smiled.  She was not quite sure what to say as she had learned the hard way over the last month that things could be taken several ways.  She decided to play semi-innocent and said, “You mean hiding in the back of the bandit’s caves?”

“Oh, no...”  His face flushed.  He leaned closer and said, “It seems you have had more women in this household than anyone else.”

Laun laughed.  “Can you men think of anything but hunting?  Hunting with either of your swords can be dangerous around here, dear cousin.”  She put her hand on his cheek and he took it and kissed the back of it.

He smiled and said over her hand, “I am also sorry that our family is very strong about...cousins...”

Laun laughed.  She pulled her hand from his and lightly tapped him on the nose.  “There are many who would be happy for your advances.  Don’t just go after me because I am landed.”

One of the others around them snorted as Dougal looked offended.  “Lady!  I would never do such a thing!”

Laun laughed and many of the rest of the nobles also laughed.  They all knew very well that if Falmir fell and Dreng was in control again, Dougal was next in line for the Midlands throne.

Laun stopped laughing and put her hand to her chin, mocking the way several of the nobles looked as they thought.  “Ah, but I may want to consolidate my power...”  There were several other chortles and laughs, though she did just point out to them that she was in line for the throne, and not too far down, either.

She looked around seeing the change in the laughter.  “Nah.  I have too much to do around here.  What would I do with a whole kingdom?”  She felt the tone lighten again in the laughter and smiled widely.

Dreng had been dressing as the banter had gone on.  He was wearing heavy wool breeches tucked into his boots, a bright blue hooded tunic with strips of tan leather sewn on and a leather jerkin that was almost a yellow from the tanning.  Dreng turned in front of the mirror in the room and declared, “I am a peacock!”

There was more laughter.  Laun got up and went to him.  Her hand on his arm was light, but direct as she said, “Perhaps Orgia wants you caught today.  Bett may have some competition.”  Laun backed away and the laughter and banter of the men around her masked her departure.

Laun went to the Great Hall and waited for the morning meal.  She was nervous about her plan.  So many things could go wrong, but she had ideas on how things would go right, too.

Bread and butter was being placed on the sideboard.  Laun knew she had to eat, but her stomach was turning over and the thought of food was unappealing. One of the staff saw her looking and brought a small bread with butter in a cut on top and a mug of hot tea.  She smiled up at him and drank the tea.  It was a blend of herbal and some thing from Myrned, the smokiness of the brew distinctive.  This tea had energy in it.  They would all need that today.

Most of the household was assembled and had eaten.  The protectors and others who had asked to be in the quail hunt were getting restless and wanted in on the fun for the day.  Ali came in, carrying Laun’s boots, and had a slightly shy smile as Laun kissed the stablehand on the cheek.  Edgar finally came in and nodded to Laun.  Dreng also arrived and was trying to be as loud as he could.

“If you cannot find me in this, you don’t deserve your trencher!”  Dreng was showing off what he was wearing, several of the servants nodding to themselves.  There was laughter and a camaraderie that Laun liked feeling, though it may have been masking something else.

Edgar took control of the room and said, “If you are the quail go and hide yourselves now!”  Edgar bowed to the King and several other people also got up and left.  Dreng was being very loud, even outside, and could be heard for several minutes extolling the virtues of his scouting abilities.

There was laughter and Edgar had to get control of the room again.  “Now that they are gone, the call and response.”  He held up his hand until there was quiet in the room.  “Our Lady has.”  The room repeated it to him.  He nodded and continued with, “Beautiful thighs.”  There was laughter, but everyone said it, except for Laun.

Laun felt bright red and pouted.  “Yes, and you have a-”

“Hey!  None of that!  It is just call and response, Lady.”  Edgar bowed to her.

Laun stood and turned and got the room’s attention.  “We need to let them get into position, so finish your meals, check your gear and the map.”  Laun pointed to the sheet that was draped across one of the tables.  “We do not want to have to go find you, after all!”  Several people called out, “Yes, Lady!” as Laun turned to Edgar, dragging him in front of one of the fireplaces.

Her look and attitude was one of scolding and slight embarrassment, but her words were all business.  “The trusted ones are in place?”  Edgar nodded, looking around furtively as if he did not want to be there.  “Do you have yours?”  He nodded.  “Good.  I am going to go get changed and head out.”  She leaned forward and kissed him, a hand on his cheek as she pulled back.  “I hope this works.”

“If not, the protectors will still have good training.”

Laun touched shoulders with several people as she went for the kitchens.  Orgia had a basket ready for her and Laun went into the back pantry to change.  She was able to pull on everything herself, except for one of her boots.  She came out, a heather cloak over her and she had Orgia help her with the last boot.  Orgia hugged her and had a line of her staff go out of the kitchen, surrounding Laun, as they held large baskets and other things.

Edgar tried to get the room’s attention for an incentive of another drought of ale that night for anyone who caught a quail that day.  It worked and the kitchen staff was able to get Laun out of the only doorway into the courtyard.

The staff kept going and they were on the road when Laun broke away and headed into the area of Lady Hellon’s Hill.  She had made a space to hide in and she was hoping that it was not just still there, but still as hidden as she had made it.  

She waited in her hole, a bush that had been a storm-fall by accident, but a good space to hide in for her.  She heard the hunters go by, being much noisier than they really should have been.  She waited and then heard another set of footsteps.  They were quieter and paused for longer.  It took quite a while for them to pass by.

It was overcast and shadows were not being cast.  When Laun heard running, she saw the feet as they passed by, but had not seen shadows.

Laun had adrenalin going through her.  She had the cape loose and then off of her, stuffed in the back of the hole.  It had been good camouflage, but she needed to be seen.  She crawled to the edge of the hole and flexed her legs.

She was out of the hole and running.  She knew the Hill well and had a second hide waiting for her.  The hood over her head was difficult to see around, but she heard a call behind her and dived into the second hide.

Footfalls came up and she heard, “... I am sure it was the King!  You saw that outfit!”  The talking hushed and they went away through the underbrush.

More foot falls came by, slower and uncertain.  Laun was behind a wall of leaves that she had pushed through a storm-ruined cloth over a stick frame in the days before, the shallow pit under a sticker bush not quite enough to hide her when she had made the hide.  She hated that her body and mind had betrayed her and she had not been able to do anything more than the two hides.

She had not heard anything outside of her sharp hide for a while, but she was not certain of her surroundings.  The boiled leather corset from the dress was starting to chafe, but Edgar had insisted that it be with her outfit that day.  It would need to be modified if she were to try to use it again.

She felt she needed to go again.  She was always good at Hide.  But having an older body with aches that would randomly pop up was making her antsy.

She had a small pile of stones in with her.  She moved the frame slightly and made enough room to be able to flick a stone out and hit the tree several paces away from her.  It hit and she heard a rustle as someone came towards the sound.  She had been right to not move yet.

Laun could not see them.  She heard them.  She slowed her breathing and listened.  The note that had been on the second messenger bird had been very informative.  Laun closed her eyes and read it in her memory.  It had said, “Dreng in Salam-Dir.  Will assassinate when they do war drill.”  Laun opened her eyes again and saw boots right in front of her hole.  They were slowly turning, looking.

She heard a sigh and a bird call.  There was a response, and she knew it was one of the protectors in front of her.  If it hadn’t been so serious, she would have reached out and grabbed his foot.  The foot started to lift, and then turned again, facing her.  Her wanting to play a joke stilled as the person went to one knee in front of her.  A hand went to the ground.  She realized too late that she had left a skid mark as she had gone under the frame.  It ended at the bush.

Laun did not know that the only thing that saved her from being found by the Protector was the fact that she had chosen a sharp place to hide.  He did not want to try to go into the bush to see if anyone was there.  She had chosen well, but she did not have to hide for long.

A horn sounded.  The protectors had not been told about the horn.  It was for the people who were being the quail.  The real quail had been found.

Laun relaxed and her head went to the ground.  The boots in front of her turned and started for the keep where the horn had sounded.  Laun barely waited and scooted out of the hide.  She stretched briefly and then ran down past the protector who had just been tracking her.  She heard a, “Hey!” and bootsteps following her.

Several others dressed like Dreng emerged from the woods and fields and were converging on the keep.  They all had their hoods up, the bright yellow against the blue.  The protectors were confused, as was Bett.

“Which one of you is my husband?”  Bett had to go to several of the blue-tunicd people before she found Dreng.  She kissed him and then glanced over at several protector teams that had a man tied up and struggling between them.

Bett looked at the man, dressed in what could have come out of the household laundry.  “I talked to you out in the orchard.  I didn’t know you were one of the quail...”

He looked at the ground and refused to make eye contact with anyone.  When she had talked to him, he turned away from her, testing the ropes on him as he did so.

“Your Majesty, he was in the burnt house, hiding.  He did not know the call and response and refused to give his name.  He is not from the household.”

Dougal came forward from the people who had been dressed as his Grandfather and said, “He isn’t one of mine.”

Edgar, also dressed in the blue tunic with the hood under the yellow jerkin, said, “Cover his head.”  A sack was found and sacrificed to go over the man’s head.  Through the sack, there was some light, and some sound.  He could hear low voices and the same man who had ordered the hood said, “If you are sure...  Take him to the Chamber of the Dead.”

 

Now, onto the interrogation...