3430 of the Fifth Age
Mordurel, Easterland Region
Silverhall Castle
Raenys Silverstag
If Aldrich intended to return as he had assured her he would be back today. She felt like she wanted to still be angry that he left so quickly after returning but she wasn’t angry, disappointed, yes. She was disappointed but not infuriated. She also knew that if she intended to push her wish, no, decision on him she shouldn’t yell at him first. He might just dismiss what she thought on the Godsgrace situation out of hand. Raenys knew exactly what to tell him if he disagreed though. The question actually was if he wanted to fight a rebellion because it was no doubt coming. If not now but next time Count Godsgrace decided to burn a lordling. A rebellion was inevitable if the Godsgraces maintained their lordship over the province.
Yesterday Chancellor Gaspard Greenflood had returned from his trip to Culhaven. He had spent a day there relaxing. To her irritation he wasn’t too concerned about the Godsgrace incident. His reasoning was that a competent count could deal with it.
“That’s assuming Count Godsgrace is competent,” she had told him. She was annoyed that he didn’t see it her way. Was it just respect to a fellow count or did he truly not get it?
He was more apologetic about leaving suddenly however. She could definitely say that she didn’t enjoy her conversation with the count very much at all. He’d had an answer for everything. Whatever harbored feelings slipped away as she sipped from the tea and gazed out over the castle’s garden. A hundred meters or so away rose the grey stone walls tall and mighty and watchtowers of stone dotted them.
“I am certain father has an explanation,” poor Rohanna Godsgrace tried to assure her, the others and herself. “He must have had a good reason.”
She held her cup tight in both her hands and looked at the piece of cake on her white gilded plate. Raenys felt sorry for her. She knew that she would be defensive if her lord father had done something like that, well, she would have defended him once. That time had passed years ago.
“Don’t worry. We shall see this situation through,” she told her friend, but kept out the fact she intended to see her house have their lordship over Vorostmark revoked. It wouldn’t matter to Rohanna either once she gets married. Then she would be out from underneath her lord father’s grip.
“She’s right darling,” Dawana told the slightly younger woman.
Raenys did her best to change subject.
“I hear that three different men is seeking to court you.” She leaned in for added effect.
The lady-in-waiting nodded, “Y-yes.”
“I haven’t heard this. Who?” Dawana feigned surprise.
“Uh…Godfrey Whitetree, Theodoric Greenpoole and Rickard Goodcastle,” Rohanna recounted their names.
Two Middenlanders and one Easterling.
“Godfrey and Theodoric are both knights,” Raenys said in a whisper. “Godfrey is a Whitetree too. They have always have the most chivalrous and bravest knights and have the most beautiful maidens. Very few men in their early twenties can say they are braver and prouder knights then the Whitetree triplets. Although Theodoric is the heir to his lord father’s barony. You would off course have to get passed spending your remaining life with his gravelly voice.” Raenys smirked, “Not an easy task.”
“There isn’t much to say of Rickard I suppose,” Dawana weighed. “He’s good at poetry. A man of knowledge, which is underrated in the realm I fear.”
“He’s a lousy swordsmen,” Raenys stated. Then she caught Rohanna smiling slightly. “What?”
Rohanna then blushed.
“Oh, she’s just thinking about Godfrey bedding her,” Dawana teased.
Horns and trumpets in the distance caught their full attention. She knew immediately that it was Aldrich’ hunting party that returned. A good deal of pomp was required when the king traveled anywhere. He had left Silverhall with a company of over a hundred and forty men, a proper royal hunting party.
“Come on!” She told the two women.
She hurried to the front of the keep to speak to him before Caesar Jagon or anyone else on the council had the chance. But she found the court deacon arriving before she did. On her approach Aldrich saw her and smiled. She returned the smile, despite still a little upset that he had left, but this wasn’t the time for that.
“My darling wife, you look positively radiant with beauty,” he complemented her.
“You’re making me blush,” she said in a whisper. Then she turned to Caesar Jagon. “Would you please leave us to speak in private, husband to wife.”
There was a spark of anger in his eyes.
“We shall speak later deacon,” Aldrich said and dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
So he had to swallow the defeat and Raenys glowed with delight as Aldrich kissed her and held her lovingly. It was fine that he thought it was him she was delighted to see. When she told him about the Godsgrace burning of the lordling he listened carefully with a concerned expression.
“I don’t like revoking a lords titles, to dishonor him and his house,” he told her sincerely.
“I know my brave stag,” she told her lord husband and cousin. “But he disgraced himself when he burned one of your vassals son alive. This can’t stand. All they gave the poor lad was some mock-trial.” She wasn’t sure if that was true but it could easily be the truth for all she knew.
“Ulysses Baivilúmont is a good man. He was at our wedding, remember?” He spoke.
“Oh, actually no. But the entire realms lords was practically at our wedding.”
He laughed.
“That’s true. Either way my point is that he’s a good man, a native unlike Lord Godsgrace.”
You have to agree with me, she thought. I’m not just a foolish girl.
In the end he did to her great relief. He said that he’d speak with Chancellor Greenflood and Master of Spies Jermayne Jagon on the matter. A good king cared to speak with his advisors he said and she remembered that her mother Jhaenera always said it, as did their grandfather Alaric of house Reikheart before that. She wondered if her father Laengos Carstein had ever told her anything like that but nothing came to mind. Both men lived in the Reikland province, far away from Silverhall and Easterland. In her lord father’s case she was happy to have thousands of kilometers between them. Her most fond memory about her father was many years ago when her grandfather had punched him.
“So did you kill anything?”
“Of course,” he answered proudly. “A large fat boar and four deer. We’ll serve it all for dinner this evening, a little feast for our sworn knights. Those present at least. Maybe your closest friends as well.”
Raenys clapped her hands together. Talk of a feast always lifted her mood. Boar was quite delicious when cooked right and boar ribs with exotic spices, garlic, onion, mushroom and butter sauce was godly. She licked her lips an anticipation.
“That would be fantastic.”
She saw Aldrich’s squire in the background. The twelve year old boy gave the reins to Aldrich’s horse to a tall stable boy. She mentally noted that the boy had inherited his lord father’s uglier features. His lord father was a one out of three men rewarded with a baronetcy each several years back when they had saved her. From cutthroats to nobles.
She exchanged a few more words with her lord husband before she rejoined Dawana and Rohanna. They walked about the castle and fondly spoke of half a dozen different matters, handsome lords and knights, old memories and the like. At one point they stopped at a chamber where some highborn sons and daughters present at court were tutored. He went through the provinces that made up the Westerland Realm of Men. Easterland, Nordland, Riverland, Reikland, Middenland, Barrowland, Nülinholm, the Reach, Marshland, Vorostmark and Ostland. Eleven provinces and ten counts. Easterland had no count since her family ruled it as royalty.
The Goodbrother asked which house lorded over Nordland as counts.
A young girl of seven answered, “House Confrey, master Alan.”
“Correct young lady,” the old Goodbrother confirmed.
She smiled proudly and said, “I can name more. Greenflood lord over Riverland, Tooke over Marshland, Daynes over Nülinholm, Marshgrove over Middenland-”
She was interrupted by the tutor.
“Shush. It is not very ladylike to throw your knowledge in the face of others. Now, what is the sigil of our realm’s royal house?”
“A stag of silver,” a boy answered. He had the accent of a boy from Vorostmark.
The Goodbrother looked to the first girl.
“Could you tell us what the blazon of house Confrey looks like?”
“A green dragon with five sapphires on a divided field of red and blue,” she responded in a polite voice.
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