the Leathermines

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Laun could not sleep.  The number of bodies did not matter.  There had been a few people who asked to come into the sleeping room that Laun welcomed that night.  She had then been invited to participate in their amorous pursuits.  Laun did not have to feign a headache, but asked them to continue.  She was fascinated with the different way people did the same things.  And that night, she was introduced to women going down on men.

It was educational and entertaining.  She knew she would have to try it out herself at some point.  Just not right then.  Others came in, some for sleep, some for something a little more active.  Laun welcomed all.

Close to mid night, most of the people around her seemed to be asleep.  The ones not were soon to be by the time it took them to answer the lover’s talk.  Laun could not sleep.  And Edgar had not come to bed.  And neither had Fount.

One or the other, not unusual as they had set up some sort of schedule.  Laun had not been able to talk to Edgar about the three who had been sent out yet.  He needed to know that night.

Laun got up and pulled on a tunic.  She was not sure it was the one she had been wearing before she went to bed.  It smelled like lavender and tallow, not the sweat and dust that she thought hers had.  She motioned to the privy to the wardsman standing outside the door and he nodded. »Read More

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Laun saw the banner as soon as she stepped into the Great Hall.  And she noticed the addition.

It was the symbol that had been on documents and chests and the official livery for the Salam-Dir household around her since she was born.  And now it was more.  Each layer meant something, but the blood meant more to her.  Laun’s hand went to the scar on her chest and she rubbed on it, remembering the bronze chest-piece that had made it back from the festival.  She would have to have that displayed somewhere, too.

Laun went and talked to Orgia, first thanking her for putting up the banner.  She thanked the chatelaine for the thoughtfulness of the red on the green.  Orgia curtsied.  Laun then asked if Geralk had talked to her that afternoon.

Orgia squinted her eyes and shook her head.  Laun put a finger under her bottom lip indicating a secret and said, “The three of us need to talk about some supplies he will need for trade.”

Orgia did not let the panic she felt show.  “Very good, Lady.”

“Before dinner, if possible.”  Orgia nodded and Laun excused herself. »Read More

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It was subtle, but there was a stained cloth that had been draped on the mantlepiece behind the head table.  It was still there several days later when Orgia decided that it was time to take down the proof that Laun had been a maiden and now a woman.

It was a damnedable tradition, and if Laun had been paying attention, she may have understood how to many people, it showed that she had been claimed.  It also made several people think that now she was free to pursue, the tacit agreement through the household gone.  She was no longer protected, and any innocence she had would not last.

To the chatelaine, the change in the household was immediate.  Some people avoided their Lady, though she still tried to treat everyone equally, touch everyone everyday.  It made an under-currant that was starting to disrupt the harvests and household running smoothly.

Orgia could not have that.

The day she took down the woman-cloth, Orgia rearranged the tables in the Great Hall again.  No more head table.  Dreng was not pleased, but he had learned that to go against the women of this household could be disastrous.  More importantly, Orgia took it upon herself to hang the banner of the household.  There is a tradition that she did hold to that the device of the head of the household changed slightly with each succession.

The people being directed by Orgia did not see a change in the banner they were hanging up.  Then again, if they paid attention to the banner and not to the scaffolding and poles they were using, there could have been an accident.  When it was up and the scaffolding was being taken down, several people stood back and saw what Orgia had done.

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The hunt makes a full feast

It was the first time there was a head table at any of the meals.  Laun noticed the change, but chose to ignore it as she came into the Great Hall.  She was flushed with excitement at the decision she had made.  Her internal happiness showed and it made many smile just to see it.

The three of them came in, Fount and Laun holding hands between them, Edgar with his hand interlaced with hers on her shoulder.

Laun did not intend to announce anything.  She knew that word would be spread fast and easily in the open household.  She was focusing more on the men who she had just kissed, letting them know her feelings and intentions.

The smell of roasting bird had drawn most of the people in the keep, early for evening meal.  The sun was not quite setting and the fires were being built up for the evening.  Laun was drifting towards one of the side tables with her newly professed lovers when Dreng motioned her to the head table.  There was a place on the bench next to him with their backs to the fire.  Edgar saw there was not enough room for the three of them.  He pulled Laun gently around and kissed her forehead, the first lover’s kiss in front of the household.

“Laun, I have something to attend to, with your permission.”  Laun smiled and let his hand go and watched as he went to talk to the guards who were about to go out for duty.

Fount would not be shaken from her side.  The benches were shuffled some so that he could sit beside her.  The nobles raised eyebrows but saw that Fount’s grey eyes saw nothing but his Lady. »Read More

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There had been a fairly full harvest so far.  Being forced to go afield to find replacements for that which had been destroyed made the household more aware of the land and what it produced.  It was not going to be a meagre winter, but it was going to be a slightly lopsided one.

The amount of drying herbs overflowed the usual places and staves with bundles of herbs drying on them were placed anywhere there was good airflow.  The laundry, which smelt of lemon balm.  The stairway in the tower which smelt of savory and rosemary.  And the Great Hall, which had heather and sweet grass drying for the fall bedding changeover.

The leaves had not started changing colors, but everyone knew that it was coming.  The nobles took charge one morning at meeting by announcing that the bird sounds in the night meant that the ducks and geese were starting to migrate.  That meant a hunt.  The best archers came forward, the nets used for fishing were brought out for repair and the energy of the nobles doubled at the prospect.  Orgia looked forward to something new for the season, and the feathers would be useful in many ways in the household.

Edgar and Fount paired up for the hunt and scouted out to a marshy area towards the old volcano. Yes, the nobles had heard right, the waterfowl had started to gather in the reeds, resting as they went south in front of the cold.

It seemed as though there was a gender split for the hunt.  Most of the women who were not active other places had declined the offer to assist and were sitting under trees, mending linens and clothes for the household.  A table and a few benches had been carried out for the project, easier than sitting on the ground.  The very domestic scene had the women chattering about many things to pass the time as the needles pulled thread through the cloth.

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It was the hardest thing yet that Laun had to decide.  The merchant had completely killed any trust he may have had with his confession of his slavery plans.  He had broken an oath to Marie taken under the smuggler’s code.  If not been called out, his deception may have cost not just the child’s life if they had just let him go on his way the next morning, cart, horse and child with him.  Calling him out had not been the only option, but it was the expedient one that Laun had gone with.  And then she had to decide.

Dreng was astonished at her request.  Geralk had never heard of such a thing before.  And Laun saw it as a third option to the two that were obvious.

It took the smithy an hour to create what Laun wanted.  Geralk took longer with the scroll.  It was a moment for Dreng’s signature and the scream that went through the keep silenced all.

The brand on Gyrip’s arm sent him into a fever that night.  Laun sat next to him, cooling him and giving him elixirs that Pillar or Lucaris would bring her.  She cried when she thought no one would see, though some did and only a few understood.  Protectors stood just outside the firelight, watching their Lady as she watched over the merchant.  She did not sleep.

The morning was bright through the high windows into the Great Hall.  The household gathered, quiet.  The merchant was awake, had been fed and had a package with more food in it handed to him.  The scroll was wrapped in an oilcloth and was in Laun’s hand. »Read More