the Leathermines

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“We should have left last night.”

Laun was furious.  Angry at the time of day.  Livid at not being on the road to the Capitol City.  Disappointed at herself for falling asleep and staying in bed until at least an hour after she normally would have been up and about.  She hadn’t even been up to nurse the babies, and she was upset about that.

Edgar, Geralk and Laun were in the library, wedged in around the table.  Laun wanted to tell Geralk what had happened so that it could be recorded, since they had not gotten on the road the night before.  It was already mid-morning.  Morning meeting had an interesting twist when many of the people in the Great Hall moved away from Baron Bedral as he came limping in.  It had not stopped the meeting, but talking about the fishing that needed to be done was the last thing openly talked about.  Laun had grabbed Geralk and headed for the library as soon as the after meeting chaos took over.

There was a coded message she wanted to have made to give to Markle and Marie, an accounting of the gold that Gyrip had brought, the new crystals that had been found and a general note as to what really happened at Nestwood.  If it was to be spread, the greyworld was to have the accurate account. »Read More

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The torchlight from the military encampments made the tents glow in the fields below the keep.  Laun was on Erin’s arm as they walked around the perimeter of the keep, her face turned to him though seeing more than just he.

The wind had come at dusk, cooling the Summer evening and making the trees hiss.  The night sky went from the blazing hot oranges of sunset to the cool purple velvet of night, clouds floating singularly across the waxing moon.  Stars blazed in the dark sky above, but they could not shine brighter than Erin.

He was not looking where he was walking in the cooling evening.  His eyes were only for the woman on his arm.  Her eyes glinted of gold as they passed by torches, her mouth naturally pink and soft as the roses he grew.  He was not really paying attention to the small talk, the mention of weather and phasma flies.  He nodded and smiled as she smiled.

She had come back from the bathing chamber in what she was wearing now.  Light and flowing and a silvery sheen to the linen that glowed against her tan skin.  The three pointed crown above her hair, a simple braid that came down her back, tied with the thong that had been on her wrist, the silver bell dangling soundlessly there.  He watched her come in and curtsey to him, use his honorific and tilt her head slightly to the side.  He had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply for several minutes.

She reminded him, gently, that he needed to wash himself, also.  He tore himself away from her and almost ran to the bathing chamber, cursing himself for having it so far from the bedroom he had chosen. »Read More

Back to Chapter 24 - Please consider tribute to the Web Mistress - The Chronicles of the Midlands starts Here, with the first chapter of the Slave Warrior.

It was early in the morning.  The camp had been awake and moving to get repacked since first light.  Laun was being groomed as carefully as Grace was as the mist of the morning glided around the men and women in the quiet camp.

The scouts came back and reported in low tones that the bridge had indeed been repaired, though it was obvious where damage had recently occurred.  The scouts went to the three squads loading up, the Protector archers amongst them checking the newly made arrows as they went into their quivers.

They were ready to mount up.  The sun was starting to burn off the mist as the horses were lined up, the carts hitched.  Laun was astride Grace, her skirts draped over the flank of the horse, her jewels and crown catching the early light.  The four assassins were spread through the group, Gem with the babies in the carriage as the men found places alongside the few guards and servants that were to escort Laun.

The group split into three as Laun led her group towards the river.  They had camped only about ten minutes’ ride from the river when they found that there wasn’t a guard posted on this side of the river.  Sloppy, and Laun used it to advantage.  They came to the top of the ridge before the river and looked down to the beach.

It was different from when the ferryman had pulled her across.  No flat bottomed boat rocked in the flow of the river.  No large rope drooped into the water. »Read More

Back to Chapter 23 - The beginning of the Chronicles of the Midlands starts with The Slave Warrior, Chapter 1

It was several days of sitting or standing still, reading and talking to people and planning things before Laun felt as though she could be out in the sun again.

She took time to go over every message she had ever been sent, making notes and making messages to some of the people in the Capitol City she wanted to keep track of.  Laun discussed with many people the messages that were sent to her from Dreng and Falmir before the caravan had arrived, discussed the message brought to her by Lieutenant Senri with far fewer.

Laun designed a few things that she wanted to be made, some for her, some for the babies and most for the household.  The carpenters and seamstresses and even the masons were given projects that would keep them busy for a while.  Laun was as open as she could be, but some of the projects were parts of a larger project she wanted do have done.

The peeling was bad once it started.  Jokes of Laun turning into a reptile were said, and used a few too many times.  Laun smiled as she could and nodded when she couldn’t.  Oils being spread on her skin and mineral baths were common for Laun, so much so that the escort teams started to leave a bench in the corridor outside the bathing chamber.

The day Laun ventured out into the sun, she had on a light tunic and one of the dancing skirts over her halter and loincloth and nothing else.  Even the burn on her feet was still tender enough to make sandals too much.  Her escort carried things for her, including a change of clothing.

She led the hand picked escort to the banks of the Grey Waters, a cart with baskets in the back of it following them.  Laun led the group into the marshy area along part of the bank of the stream and pointed.

“That is where we are going to be today.”  The people around her looked at each other and shrugged. »Read More

Back to Chapter 22 - The Leathermines runs on chocolate.  Consider sending Tribute to help get these pages up.

The men were beaming.  There were a few cheers from the gathered household and the other soldiers present were all standing at attention behind the four.

Laun held up her hand and most of the noise subsided.  “And even though it was a game, it did show me that these men, thrown together to look after their defenseless Princess-”  There was loud laughter from many people.  Laun waited and put up her hand again for attention.  “To protect me, they worked well with each other, used their fellow company and, in the end, almost caught me before midnight.”

“I should have won that bet!”  There was laughter again.

Laun reached into the basket the growing babies were in and pulled out four small ribbons, looped and pinned.  “I have little to give you for recognizing your talents.  Please accept this token from my hand.”  Laun went to the Corporal at the end of the line and started with him, pinning the green ribbon onto his collar with one of the straight pins from her unused sewing chest.  He stood straight and saluted as Laun stepped back.  Laun saluted in return and stepped to the next man.  Each was pinned and saluted until Laun stepped back from the Private.

“Now...  You caught me.  We found out after that it was past time, but I think, for your tactics, you deserve my reward.”  Someone from the crowd hissed, quickly stopped, but laughter rolled through the room.

Laun turned and Hazalam came forward with a small folded cloth.  Laun took it and opened it in her palm.  The Private tried to not look down, but his curiosity betrayed him.  Before she held it up, he glimpsed a small green crystal wrapped with a piece of silver wire looped so it could be put on a thong or chain. »Read More

Back to Chapter 21 - The start of the Midlands Chronicle is here, in The Slave Warrior - Keep the Web Mistress in Chocolate, and other things, by offering Tribute

“They what?”

Laun was on the back of Grace, loving the feeling of riding again.  A protector team had caught up with her in one of the back fields and told her that there were four squads from the 4th at the barricade wishing to come in.

Laun led the way back to the barrier across the main road, a gathering of Protectors and a few of the soldiers waiting on the inside for her.  Laun did not dismount from her palfrey as she talked in low tones to those on duty.

Fount was Laun’s voice as he called out her words, “You claim to be from the fourth.”

A voice from the other side returned with, “Yes.  We are here on leave for our Princess’ pleasure.”

Laun had an odd look to her face and tried not to laugh as she told Fount the next words she wanted.  “We are not a house of the Red Scarf.”

“Ah, shit!  No!  That’s not what I meant.” Laun laughed as she heard Lieutenant Senri try to backtrack with his words.  “Highness!  We took leave from the Company to escort a supply caravan to you.  We volunteered our leave time to do so to make sure it got here.”

Laun spoke up herself and said, “You came on your freed time to do so?”

“Yes, Highness!” »Read More