3430 of the Fifth Age
Mordurel, Easterland Region
Whitewall Hall
Raenys Silverstag
They had been in Whitewall Hall for five days when Raenys had the time to put her plans into action. On the back of a young colt she left the castle with a small escort of twenty men-at-arms and one of her most trusted Kingsguards, Sir Torrylan Silverwood. She would prefer that her activities remained unreported to Aldrich. At least until he could do nothing about it. Half of her men-at-arms rode away from the party on tasks she had given them. The men-at-arms were clad in gambeson covered by a layer of ringmail and to cover their heads they had traditional ringmail coif with padding. Sir Torrylan once told her a coif of ringmail was utterly worthless without padding.
“One might as well not wear it at all,” he had said and laughed.
But there was no amusement on her mind this day. There had been little of it since Chancellor Greenflood had given her, her sister and husband the dreadful news.
“Your Grace, dire news has arrived from a few kilometers north of here. The news arrived just before I did,” the Lord of Riverland explained. “A dozen villages has been burned to ash by a drake. I’m told someone identified it as a Royal Dragon.” He had paused then. “Your Grace…Stonebuckle was amongst them.”
Raenys and Alyssana had grabbed each others hands as the realization set in. They had a small branch of landed knights up in Stonebuckle.
“What of our cousins? Yennifer, Daegmar?” Aldrich had inquired with worry.
“Perished in the flames I fear.” The chancellor had turned his head to her then. “It seems some maids saved the babes though. I have dispatched knights to bring them here.”
To be perfectly honest Raenys had never been that close to Sir Malgus Silverstag’s knightly branch of their line and it pained her now. It had been a relief that the little ones had survived. Their cousin Yennifer had married some boy from house Royce and they had had a son named Naeryan and he had married a woman of house Oldthorne and she gave him two sons and a daughter, Dagon who was four, Daemyn who was three and Daniella who was only two. After they arrived at Whitewall Hall she had mothered over the poor children. Each night they cried and little Daniella demanded the constant presence of a caring motherly figure. All the little child would ever say was “Mama.” She just wanted to hug and kiss them and make all the hurt go away.
“They’ll stay here off course,” Aldrich had said. “They can grow up to be cupbearers and pages at court.”
Raenys had grown angry at that and she’d said, “No. I won’t have Silverstags be servants. They are of our blood and they lost everything. Dagon and Daemyn will be little princes and Daniella a little princess.”
Her flaring temperament had surprised Aldrich and he had not dared argue with her.
The harbor was full of life as goods were loaded off or onto ships that laid docked. Those ships docked ranged from the common galleys to Burgher Cities sloops and galleons. The large galleons was the preferred vessel for lengthy voyages. Though they were far slower then a galley or more so a longship from the Ice Islands or Sverd Isles to the north they could carry far larger amount of provisions and goods in their cargo holds. Like the aforementioned galleys and longships the galleons were propelled by sails alone rather then sail and oars. The sloops that originally was a Burgher Cities design was a smaller version of a galleon, swift on open water and highly maneuverable that could not travel as far a distance or carry as much cargo. She noticed two long and thin barges from Riverland. She thought they must have clung to the coast to survive the Narrow Sea. No barge could survive the open sea. They would be crushed easily. There was also a Sverdmen Knarr, a trade ship smaller then one of their serpent-head longships. The longships of the Sverd Isle was feared when their shaped were spotted but their trading vessels, the Knarr, were always welcome here in Culhaven.
Raenys’ eyes were caught by a white hulled sloop with a white sail with gemstones in a pile as its sigil.
“A Sapphire Isle ship,” she affirmed, impressed by its sight.
Her suspicions were proven correct by the sight of the crew. Tall and muscular orcs whose complexion ranged in different shades of green. They wore fine clothes of velvet, the sailors and officers both. The person she thought was their captain was a well-groomed greenskin that spoke rather heatedly with the harbormaster. The harbormaster was a man with a scraggly beard and a few tuffs of blond-brown hair on his head. The greenskin fished a shining blue sapphire out of his pocket and handed it to the man, who’s demeanor quickly changed to a kinder one. Raenys figured the greenskin captain hadn’t paid the harbor fee.
Finally she saw the ship she looked for. The White Swan. The galleon sat docked to a pier and goods being loaded on board by Men and dwarfs. The dwarfs were clean shaved which was a sign that they were born in Westerland. Otherwise it was a tradition of their people to grow long beards. In Westerland those who lived here had sought to distinguish themselves more so then clothing. They were quick to recognize who was approaching and called for their captain. Despite that she wore a grey cloak and far from her finest gown the presence of Silverstag men-at-arms and Sir Torrylan in his shining white Kingsguard plate made it clear that she was royalty.
The White Swan’s captain was a man with stooped shoulders, long neck and clean shaved chin. He did however sport impressive sideburns. He wore blue and yellow velvet breeches and a silver brooch on his doublet. Raenys stopped her colt by the walkway and dismounted with the help of an offered hand from Sir Torrylan. With spears in hand her men-at-arms dismounted and stood in formation behind her. Their eyes peeled for anyone that might do her harm and to keep the people that looked on and waved joyfully away.
“Your Grace,” the captain said and bowed deeply. “I am honored by your presence. My ship is being loaded with the last bits of supplies before we can leave port.”
“My messenger told you I would be here in person, did he not?”
“He did Your Grace, though I did not believe it, truly. Meeting Your Grace in person seemed…doubtful.” He sounded apologetic.
“Well, he spoke the truth.” She untied a pouch from her belt and handed it to the stunted man. “And if there was any doubts the promised payment. Twenty gold coins.”
Captain Gormayn accepted the forest green leather pouch and peeked inside it.
“Twenty…” she could hear him mumble. “…twenty gold coins.”
“For a voyage you have done a hundred times, yes. you may have traveled to the elven ports in Noldor many times but this time you are to meet with the Order of Draavogha, and not to mentioned that you are sailing in the service of your queen.”
When Gormayn had collected himself he said, “Err, hmm…thank you Your Grace, thank you. You brought the payment for the monks I presume.”
She nodded and gestured for one of her men-at-arms. He stepped forth with a tinderbox in his hands. He gave it to Gormayn.
Raenys said, “One hundred gold coins for the eggs. Treat them with care and do whatever they tell you to do to keep them safe on the way home. You understand?” He nodded with dedication. “I’m paying you two hundred thousand for this job. When you return in success I can promise you that I will always remember you if I require a seafarer.”
Captain Gormayn gave the tinderbox to a tall man with a beard as scraggly as the harbormaster’s. He had a pale red scarf wrapped around his thin head.
“Put in this the safe in my cabin lad. Your Grace, you have my word as a dwarf, a Westerlander and a citizen of Culhaven that I shall return with the eggs as swiftly as the winds will let us.”
“I won’t forget you said that. Khaineon watch over you on your journey captain.”
Then she began her return to Whitewall Hall.
“Do you think the dwarf can be trusted Your Highness?” Sir Torrylan asked her as they began to ride.
“I trust his desire to earn my coin and my trust and I trust his reputation,” Raenys answered simply. “The man has made journeys to the Noldor many times and he’s sailed to the Sapphire Isles up northwest and south by the Dark Ocean he’s sailed west beyond the mountain borders of Mordurel. He may not be the only one to sail to Waënea and return but he is one of the few to redo it.”
“If you say so. I only know of the Sverdman Sven the Young.”
“Well, now you know of someone who actually made the perilous journey,” she supposed.
“Your Highness?” Torrylan was confused that her statement.
With a small proud smile on her lips she said, “I am of the mind with scholars and they doubt he ever made the journey. Think of it sir, he didn’t travel the usual route but north by the Sapphire Isles and in a longship even. His last port to resupply would have been the Sapphire Isles. As he continued west he would have passed east and then west Darkwood and no sailor in his right mind would ever stop there. any captain that would command it would be more likely to have his throat slit by his men. Then he would have passed the north of the Dwarf Realm Mountains and those barren hills and mountain peeks have been overrun for thousands of years and the great Dunes of Hunger range for almost two thousand kilometers from east to west. That’s what the handful of scholars that’s been there claim at least. Where would he have foraged in that desert I ask? If if it is half the size.”
She raised a finger as she rode down the cobblestone street and finished, “In a galleon, sure but not a longship.”
“Never thought of it with so much detail. Only thought it was a good story of adventure as a boy,” he admitted.
“I read the works of Goodbrother Thaemon. He wrote several books about the mysteries of Waënea, Summerland and Northerend.” She curtailed her intent to elaborate when she realized the man likely had no interest in it. He was just a knight, nothing more.
She saw a small boy that walked around with a basket of green eyes and had one in his hand as he reached out. “Apples, sweet apples strong men and sweet ladies!” He was dressed in rags as filthy as the rest of him and he had dark shabby hair that appeared to have never been washed. Under the thick layer of dirt it appeared as if his skin was terribly pale, though she thought it must been a trick of the eye due to the layer of filth. The only adorable things about the boy was his bright red albino eyes.
Upon her return to Whitewall Hall her chosen sergeant of the household guard brought her good news that the men-at-arms she sent out had returned with their task complete. She had chosen those men carefully. She had known them her whole life, good household guards of her house. She had picked Sergeant Haewyn to lead them for a lifetime of trust. She’d always been around, as had many of those in the small party.
“We brought for you twenty-six Demonling children from Culhaven’s orphanages.”
She met the children later after they had been bathed, cleaned up and properly fed. Like Dawana’s little Demonling spy that she had met in Silverhall she would fill the court with delightful child servants with demonic traits that made them shunned and practically invisible. Nobody noticed servants anyway and Demonlings was even further down in society. She felt quite brilliant as she told the children to listen and tell her anything special that they hear. Of course they hit her with thanks like a tidal wave, since she had changed their lives for the better. Even saved their pitiful shunned lives and gave them what amounted to one of the greatest honors in a lowborn’s life. That thought brought a gentle smile of pride to her sweet features.
A young steward came before her. the young man wore the cowl robe and necklace of the neutral and knowledgeable order known as the Goodbrother.
“Your Highness, a letter,” he fished it out of his inner robe pockets. “It has arrived from Mighty Stag.”
She accepted it from him and her smile grew bright when she saw the blue stag of the minor branch Aldrich came from. She broke the wax seal and saw the name she hoped for. Lady Denica of house Silverstag, her sweet and delicate sister-in-law. She decided to head to her apartment to read it, but her eyes caught something about nightmares and her heart ached a little.
“Poor thing.”596Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkP6JHN4tNO
