the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 2

 

The day was bright and sunny.  It was also warmer than it had been for a while.  The mud was drying out on the roads, but not completely.  It made it easier to set up a small pavilion in one of the fields that faced the main road.

An escort was sent to the trading post to collect the messenger who had spent the night in the converted farmer’s huts.  A sturdy plank was placed over the ditch on the side of the road to allow the messenger and escort over the plain looking mud.  Everyone in the household knew that it was filled with crap.

What the messenger saw as he was led across the plank was a brightly colored tent, it’s sides up to make four awnings around the main square.  There were brightly colored dressed women floating around under the canopy.  A table was set up and a brasier with a water kettle on it was being tended by one of the women.  They all were beautiful and well dressed with hair up and colors well placed on their faces.  They all seemed happy and content and smiled at the messenger as he approached.

It was nothing like what he had been told.  The mercs that had come back from the Salam-Dir lands were few in number, about a third of what had been sent out.  The timing was supposed to make the people and their leader weak, concentrating on First Feast, not battle.  The three men who had come back to Falmir with their leader’s head said that the woman who led them was a fierce warrior who had dressed all in furs and leather.  She had taunted Harcem, he had swallowed the bait and they had fought, the outcome to determine who had the lands.  They gave their King Falmir the message she had given them when she won, “Salam-Dir will not be taken.”  They had told of the legion she harbored inside her walls who had barely let them out with their lives.

The woman who stood to greet the frightened man held out her hand and smiled sweetly at him.  He took it lightly and kissed the back of her hand, the warm touch gentle to him.  She was in layers of flowing blue material, the ribbons the color of the sky loosely tied holding up the skirts from the damp ground, the same color ribbons that trailed from her braided and curled brown hair.  There was a transparent layer over everything that showed that she was amply endowed, but modest, even with the glimpse he saw.  Her hazel eyes were bright and open and he could not see how this enchanting young woman would ever hold a sword, let alone know how to kill with it.

“Thank you for meeting me here.  It is such a wonderful day and I did not wish to be cooped up in my library to greet you.”  She motioned to the tall man who had escorted the messenger and he stood behind her chair.  Another chair was placed and she motioned for the messenger to sit.

They sat at the same time and the Lady glanced over her shoulder to the woman at the brasier.  “Is the tea done?”

That woman was dressed in reds, her blonde hair pinned up so that it cascaded down her back.  She smiled sweetly as she was pouring hot water into two mugs and said, “Yes, my Lady.”

Another woman in black and silver and a natural rose cheek glided up to the messenger and offered him a fruited small bread.  He hesitantly took one and saw that his hostess seemed to randomly take one from the wooden platter as she thanked the woman with a smile.

“Please, my baker is excellent.  I have been looking forward to them since I smelled them coming out of the oven a few hours ago.  And-” she turned and took one of the mugs presented between them, “this is my favorite Myrned tea.”  She blew across the surface of the liquid, small ribbons of steam shredding in the path of her breath.

He relaxed a little as she drank and took a bite of the bread.  He followed suit and found that he was very hungry.  She smiled at him as he tried to be slow about eating, but found more of the breads offered to him in just a moment after he had finished the first.

She had several herself and put her tea on the small table between them.  She was just looking at him, an amused smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye.  He had often seen that type of twinkle in the women of the court, a playfulness that had very little behind it.  She turned to her man behind her and asked, “Was the trip to the trading post long?”

There was a rumble of a voice that answered, slightly menacing though it made her smile.  “No, my Lady.”  His head dipped down in a bow, though he seemed to be keeping an eye on the messenger.

“Oh, that’s good.  It can be so tiring walking about.”  The Lady turned back to the messenger.  “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Lady.  Though I did come on a horse...”

She smiled.  “Well, of course you did!  It is far too long of a walk from the Capitol City!”  She giggled slightly.

The messenger nodded his head and smiled back.  “Lady, are you who I need to talk to for the leader of Salam-Dir?”

She tilted her head, a charming motion.  “Why, yes.  Is there doubt in your mind that I am Lady Salam-Dir?”

His eye flicked away and back.  “No, Lady.  I just want to make sure I present the King’s message to the right person.”

She leaned forward and put an elbow on the table, her hand supporting her chin.  She pouted slightly and said, “We do have to talk about that, don’t we.”

The messenger nodded and took out a rolled parchment from his case.  He held it and one of the women around took it from his fingers.  It passed from woman to woman until one in yellow with green ribbons had it.  She started to read it out loud.

“To the leader of Salam-Dir does Falmir, King of the Midlands, send greetings.  We, as rightful sovereign of the kingdom, do ask for your attendance to him under parley to discuss the lands and titles of Salam-Dir.  Allow this messenger to escort you to Our palace in the Capitol City so we may meet face to face for the discussion. Dated-”

The Lady waved her hand and the reading stopped.  Her head was again tilted, but the look on her face was not as pleasant, even though it was still a smile.  “No.”

The messenger kept an eye on the tall man in back of her, but had a tone of condescension as he said, “Then, Lady Salam-Dir, Falmir has put aside a company of his troops to take this land for his pleasure.”  He started to stand but the motion of her hand stopped him.

“You know what happened here with the bandits in Falmir’s colors.”  He nodded slightly.  “You know what they reported back.”

He could not but swallow.  “It is believed that they had not actually arrived here and were trying to cover their asses... Sorry, Lady.”

Her tone deepened and the coquettishness was gone.  “Believe me, I have heard worse.”  She put her hands palm up on the table.  “This was under parley.  Do you see any weapons on me or my people?”

He looked around and saw nothing sharp, nothing pointed.  “No, Lady.”

“Little man.  You were chosen for this mission because you are expendable.  I killed the last ‘messenger’ your so-called king sent to me, sending the head back with a message.  I know you know what that message was.”  She saw the fear creep back into his face.  “You have done nothing wrong.  I will not harm you.  None of my people will harm you as long as you are off our land before sunset.”

“B-but, Lady... I have to-”

Laun reached and placed a gentle hand on his arm, making him jump.  “Either leave now and face Falmir or stay and face eternity.  It is truly up to you.”

The messenger tried to stand, upsetting the tray of small breads to the ground.  “I beg leave of you, then. Lady.”  He bowed slightly and started to back away.

“Oh, I guess I should give you a message to take back.”  One of the women had a quill and ink pot ready.  Laun took the parchment with the fancy declaration of parley on it and turned it over.  On the back she wrote:

“Your messenger can tell you what he saw.  With the chaos you have created, and not knowing how I would be treated, I feel I have little guarantee for my safety as well as the safety of my household if I were to meet with you as you request.  If you wish to meet, I will meet with you only if you give a sworn oath to keep away from Salam-Dir until I return to my people.”

She blew on it until the black ink had become dull on the page, keeping an eye on the nervous man.  She handed over the parchment and said, “Sunset.”

He backed away, the parchment in hand.  “I will deliver the message, Lady.”  He tripped slightly and turned when he was about ten paces away.

Onto Chapter 4