The Rebuilding--Chapter Four

[Evie]

Previous chapter:  https://rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3534.0.html


January 10, 1465
St. Camber's Schola
The Cathedral of St. George
City of Rhemuth
Late Morning

Saoirse of Llyr walked out of the Schola into the brisk winter air of the cathedral close, almost welcoming the needle-like cold on her cheeks as she walked into the wind. The stiff breeze helped to dry the tears that were threatening to spill over as she walked with scant attention to where she was going. She simply needed a place to sit alone and think.

The magister of the Healing Arts had been kind and compassionate as he confirmed the news she had half-expected and yet been dreading to hear. "It's long been known that for some reason, many female Healers are either sterile or have difficulty with carrying a child to term. Thus far, no one has managed to determine exactly why that is the case, but over the past couple of centuries, the Healer's Guild has discovered several markers to look for which seem to correlate with which female Healers are more likely to be barren and which have a greater chance of being able to bear children with little to no issue. Unfortunately, of the nine known markers which seem to correlate with a high likelihood of infertility, you appear to have five of them. I'm very sorry. Perhaps you might consider entering the religious life once your Healer training is complete. Most convents would be eager to accept a trained Healer as an infirmarian."

"But...if I only have five of the known markers, there's still some chance, however small, that I can bear children, right?" Saoirse had known the unlikelihood even as she asked, but she was desperate to know there might be hope, however slight, that she could conceive and bear a child to term.

"There's always a chance, I suppose, even if that chance would require a miracle," the magister allowed. "In your case, however, I suspect that chance is very low. There is no way for you to know for sure, of course, without actually attempting to have children for a long enough period of time to have more certainty of the matter. But the issue would be finding a husband who would be willing to take a bride knowing there is a high chance of the marriage remaining childless. Most men marry to get heirs, unless they already have children from a previous marriage and no longer desire more. If you strongly desire to marry rather than to take holy vows, you might consider whether a widower with sons might suit. A man with heirs might consider remarrying for companionship, especially if his children are still young enough to need a woman's care."

That option was of little comfort to Saoirse either. She didn't want to marry a widower. There was only one man she wanted to marry, and the damn idiot thought of her as a sister, or worse, as a brother, certainly not as a potential bride! Not to mention he was the last surviving son of his line, so he would absolutely want to marry someone who could provide him with heirs.

She supposed it hardly mattered if she was fertile or not anyway. Ever since the previous spring, Sebastian's attention had been fully fixed on the Princess of Joux. Because of course the numpty would lose his heart to the most bloody unattainable woman in the Eleven Kingdoms he could find.

They really had grown up too much alike, she and Sebastian. One loved a woman he was unlikely to ever have. The other loved a man who was unlikely to ever want her.

#

January 10, 1465
Rhemuth Castle
The King's Study
Late Morning

"He still hasn't taken the bait?" King Nicholas asked the King's Champion again, as he had every morning since the day after he had received the unexpected extortion attempt from the man they all believed to be Jarvis Pratt. Later that same evening, a fat sack of copper scraps had been left in the hollow tree where the note had demanded a ransom of five-hundred gold sovereigns should be deposited. Joss Morgan had made his way through the clearing of Kingsmeade while there was still sufficient light in the sky for him to be seen making his way towards the tree where the loot was to be hidden. He and Colin had hoped that Pratt would be watching from some hidden location on the other side of the Eirian or the Molling, possibly somewhere on the outskirts of what remained of the small borough of Millbridge, which had been ravaged and occupied by enemy forces during the recent siege on Rhemuth. Hopefully he had witnessed Morgan's not overly subtle deposit and would make his move to collect the expected coins soon. The King's Guard were prepared to arrest him the moment he did so.

"Not yet," Morgan confirmed. "I had expected he would turn up once it was full dark on the same night when I left it there, since that coincided with the new moon. If he waits too much longer, the moon will be bright enough in the night sky that it will be harder for him to conceal his coming and going. But I can't imagine someone as greedy as Jarvis Pratt would be willing to wait until the next new moon, which won't be until just after Candlemas."

"No, that seems unlikely. It could just be that he suspects the guardsmen at the diplomatic portal have been asked to keep an eye open for anyone attempting to cross into Kingsmeade, and is keeping a low profile until he sees some less risky way to slip in." Colin considered the problem. "I don't imagine he'd try to enter that area through the portal itself, would he? Surely he'd at least suspect that portal is strictly guarded against anyone not carrying the necessary signed and sealed letters of safe-conduct?"

"I don't think the man is Deryni, so that's likely a moot point," said Joss Morgan, "but I'll make a few discreet inquiries. In the meantime, Lord Geoffrey and Sir Sebastian are taking turns keeping a close watch on the drop site from a magically concealed location, ready to spring the trap as soon as Jarvis makes his move."

#

January 10, 1465
Rhemuth Castle
The Royal Library
Afternoon

Princess Cécile looked up from her assigned double translation and stared as a familiar young knight walked straight through the wall and down the short stretch of corridor towards her. Surely she had to have imagined seeing him appear through solid stone! Perhaps he had actually just come out of the garderobe which ought to have been the only chamber at the end of that short passage, the garderobe entrance opening up to one side of it very close to that rear wall of the passage.

But no, she had been at her studies in the Library for the past hour, the table where she worked directly facing the near end of that short corridor, and while she had seen the librarian and a nobleman she didn't recognize both enter and leave the garderobe since her arrival, she had not seen Sir Sebastian enter the library at all until now, much less walk directly in front of her to avail himself of the library's small necessarium. And she certainly would not have missed seeing him; the young Gwyneddan knight had such a striking appearance, Cécile wondered how he managed to do the more secretive aspects of his work without calling attention to himself.

She quickly looked back down at her work, hoping Sir Sebastian hadn't caught her staring at him. He might take that as encouragement to approach and start up a conversation with her, and Cécile was still quite unsure how she felt about getting to know the young man any better than she already had during their previous brief encounters. Anyway, it was simply his unexpected appearance, seemingly through a solid stone wall, that claimed her interest, nothing more.

A shadow fell on the page of text before her, and she reluctantly looked back up to find the young knight standing before her, looking amused. "I imagine seeing me walk through that wall just now must have looked rather odd, Your Highness," he remarked.

Cécile blushed. She had not considered that while she was covertly watching Sebastian, trying to figure out where he had suddenly appeared from and how, he had been in a perfect line of sight to see her reaction also. "So I did actually see that! I thought I must have imagined it."

"You didn't." Sebastian regarded her with a puzzled expression. "In fact, you've been through that passage before also. Though I suppose you don't recall that anymore."

Cécile frowned, trying to figure out what he was referring to. Eventually a very vague recollection came back to her of lying on the floor with Alixa, fear and worry in her eyes, bending over her, and Healer James spinning some sort of crystal. Her next memory after that had been of waking up in the Infirmarium the following day.

"There is a Transfer Portal behind the wall?" Cécile guessed. "Is that how we arrived here after you and Healer Saoirse rescued me?"

"It is, my lady," the newly-dubbed knight confirmed.

Cécile, looking up at him, belatedly realized two things. The first was that he was still towering over her because she had forgotten to invite him to sit. The second was that he had a dead leaf and several small twigs in his hair. The second realization was so unexpected, she had trouble stifling a laugh. Somehow he seemed a little less intimidating with dead foliage stuck to his head.

"Please feel free to sit, Sir Sebastian," she said. "If I might ask," she added as he lowered himself into one of the chairs facing hers, "why are you sprouting leaves?"

"Why am I what?" he asked, startled, instinctively running his fingers through his hair as he noticed the direction of her gaze. He finger-combed the bits of foliage out of his hair with a sheepish grin. "Ah. I might have spent a good portion of last night and this morning hiding in some bushes. Not my preferred location on a wintry night, I assure you."

Cécile giggled at the unexpected answer. "Might I ask why?"

Sebastian sighed. "You may certainly ask, but I'm not at all certain I'm allowed to answer that. It was at the King's request, but more than that, I don't think I can reveal without permission."

"I see." She didn't, really, but it was clear there was nothing more to be learned venturing down that conversational avenue, so Cécile attempted to venture down another. "I am given to understand that my sister Alixa has invited your sister Abigail to join her Court. Do you happen to know if she will be able to join us?"

"I believe that she wants to," said Sir Sebastian. "The last that I heard about the matter, she was hoping to convince our mother to let her go. Mother is concerned for her safety in Joux."

"I can't very well blame her on that score," admitted Cécile. "Le Roi mon Père was not the only reason I wished to be well rid of the place, though admittedly with Rémy dead and Renier not in much better shape, I imagine their cronies have long since left to pursue their vices elsewhere. At least I hope so. I must confess I look forward to returning to Trebaçeaux about as much as I'd look forward to licking a red hot poker."

Sebastian glanced down at the table between them, seemingly lost in thought for several long moments. Just as Cécile began to wonder if he ever intended to speak again, he asked, "Do you feel unsafe returning to Joux?"

To Cécile's horror, tears sprang up in her eyes completely unexpectedly and unbidden. "I have never felt safe there! The only time in my life I've ever felt completely safe...." Her voice trailed off as she thought back to those magical moments in Thórvaldr's arms.  "I wasn't. Not really." She sighed. "I imagine Joux will be no worse than it ever was, and hopefully at least a little bit better."

Sebastian looked back up, his striking blue-violet eyes studying her. "If you would feel safer with a personal guard, I have been considering asking if I might join Prince Camber's retinue...."

She looked away, understanding that he was obliquely asking whether he might enter her service, even if he was not free to do so directly. On the one hand, Cécile was grateful for the offer. On the other hand, it was disconcerting. She liked the young knight, but that made him dangerous. She felt safer keeping him at a greater distance.

"Would your king not mind?" she asked quietly. "I am given to understand that your Crown has invested a great many years in your training."

"The Arilans have provided loyal service to the House of Haldane for over three centuries, yes," Sebastian agreed. "And your sister's future consort is a Haldane. For that matter, so is Queen Alixa, as far as our Crown is concerned. I might be required to return to Gwynedd at some point, especially if my father should someday die or be unable to continue in his present duties. But he is currently in excellent health and will likely remain so for some years to come, God willing."

Cécile nodded, gathering her papers and slipping them back into their protective leather carrier. "I must return to the nursery. It's nearly time for me to collect my daughter. I hope you manage to succeed with your leaf and twig gathering mission." She stood, Sir Sebastian quickly rising to his feet also.

"My leaf...Oh!" The knight laughed. "With any luck, my father will have greater success tonight. And hopefully fewer souvenirs left tangled in his hair. A good day to you, Your Highness. Will you be at the Queen's Salon later this evening?" He looked at her hopefully.

"I do not know," said Cécile. "I will consider it, if Nadia is not overly fussy tonight. Good day, Sir Sebastian."

#

January 10, 1465
Rhemuth Castle
Lady Melisande's Apartment
Late Afternoon

Lady Melisande read the text of the invitation yet again, feeling very torn as to whether or not to accept it. The Queen had sent them out to various residents of the Castle and City, including one that had been addressed to her and Lucie of Woodbury, and even to her older daughter Anneke, although Emmeline and Cole would need to remain in the nursery if Mellie decided to attend the soirée, as it was to be a private musical event featuring the newly-knighted Sir Devyn McLain's talents.

As with everything else involving close contact with Colin's new Queen, Melisande was leery of accepting the invitation to attend the event, which was to be held not in Rhemuth's large Great Hall, but in the much more intimate setting of the Queen's private reception hall. It was not that she distrusted Queen Catherine--far from it! She now understood the lady's heart to be extremely gracious. Her reluctance stemmed more from the awkwardness she felt any time she had to appear in proximity to Colin's bride, given her own long history with him as his former paramour and the mother of his children. Pondering the invitation she held, Mellie wondered if the Queen had only sent it out of a sense of obligation, or if she truly wished her to attend.

Knowing Colin's heart now belonged to another woman was still a great source of pain for Mellie, even though she knew he still harbored deep feelings for herself, and also knew that even if Colin had not been required to marry elsewhere, they could no longer continue their liaison as it had been, given the almost certain danger of Mellie dying if she continued to share Colin's bed and found herself carrying his child again. Mellie might have been willing to take the risk anyway, if it were not for the fact her children were still so young. It seemed unfair to her to ask a man still in the prime of his life to live the rest of his years forgoing the pleasures they had shared for ten years together. At least now that painful decision was no longer really theirs to make–Catherine was his legal wife and Queen now, and Mellie must learn to accept that and find solace in her memories and her children. 

Was it equally painful for Catherine to think of Mellie as having a previous and much longer claim on her husband's love? Mellie wasn't sure. If Colin's wife had moments of jealousy or insecurity, she had certainly managed to hide them well. That, too, was oddly disconcerting in its own way. If she didn't know better, she would assume the Queen's seeming unconcern about Mellie's presence at Rhemuth was due to her only having amicable feelings towards her new husband, nothing more. But Mellie had seen them together enough now to know that Queen Catherine loved Colin just as deeply and wholeheartedly as herself, and he seemed to reciprocate her feelings.

Mellie set the invitation back down on the sideboard, deciding it would likely be for the best if she ignored it and remained in her chambers, only just at that moment Lucie and Anneke returned from their walk, cheeks flushed almost as much with excitement as with the cold outside. "Oh, good, you saw it!" exclaimed Lucie. "Have you decided yet what you want to wear? Anneke is so excited about going to her first soirée, and I'm really looking forward to hearing Sir Devyn perform tonight!"

Mellie sighed inwardly, knowing it was too late to back out now. If she did, that would be unfair to Lucie, who might feel obliged to remain behind with her. Even if Lucie could be persuaded to go anyway, it didn't seem right to ask her to bring Anneke along also, when Lucie already spent so many hours every week tending to the children in the Royal Nursery. And a king's daughter needed to learn from an early age how to conduct herself around events such as these, so keeping Anneke at home would hardly serve either.

#

January 10, 1465
Rhemuth Castle
The Queen's Salon
Early Evening

Dowager Queen Soraya looked around her daughter-by-marriage's reception room with a smile of approval as she took a seat near one of the fireplaces. It had been a few years since Soraya had held a salon in this room. Uthyr had still been alive then, and this had been their apartment at the time, but in the year prior to her husband's death, she had fallen out of the habit of hosting these small gatherings, her mind being more occupied by other concerns outside of her control, like Cinhil's failing health; Alixa's childlessness; and Colin's stubborn refusal to marry, take up his long-neglected duties as a Haldane prince, and secure the family line. Uthyr's sudden death on top of all those other concerns had left Soraya with no time or energy for anything new added onto her plate, especially with all the war preparations that had needed to be made right on the heels of all that.

All of those concerns of the past few years had resolved themselves in one way or another, leaving her a great deal less anxious and in a better frame of mind to enjoy intellectual and artistic pursuits again. She had even taken a few hours the week before to try her hand at painting again, her hands a bit stiffer than they used to be and her brush strokes clumsy due to lack of recent practice, but she had enjoyed the brief respite from her duties. It had also been fun to guide Anneke as the girl watched and attempted to copy her. She would need to find the child a more suitable instructor soon. Perhaps Miranda's former painting master was still available.

Soraya was glad her new daughter-by-marriage had come up with the idea of hosting her own salon. Catherine did not want to do anything too extravagant just yet, with the entire kingdom still recovering from the recent war and trying to recoup the expenses from that without placing too heavy a burden on their people, who had endured even greater suffering and privations. But she also felt it important for their lives to return to as much normalcy as possible, under the circumstances, and therefore was hoping that small events such as these might help to encourage that.

The room was already mostly full of guests from all walks and stations of life, from various lords and ladies currently visiting Rhemuth Castle, to certain citizens of the City like Master Hugh Whytacre who, along with the other members of the Night Watch, had been of great assistance in keeping the City of Rhemuth more secure during the recent siege. Soraya noticed with some amusement that the wife of one of Rhemuth's wealthiest guild masters, a woman known to be a notorious gossip, was included on the guest list. She was fairly certain that inclusion had been deliberate. Catherine hoped that news of the Queen's Salon would spread throughout the city, encouraging others to emulate her example in whatever ways they might manage with their more modest means. Also, she had noticed Mellie and Anneke had also arrived with their companion, Lucie of Woodbury, slipping in and finding seats towards the back of the room as if hoping to remain unnoticed in the crowd. Well, that would hardly do! Anneke was the King's daughter. Lady Melisande would just have to start getting used to being spotted in royal circles.

Catching Mellie's eye, she discreetly beckoned to her, pointing out a few empty seats beside her. Soraya smiled. Let's see what that nosy old busybody married to Master Goldsmith had to say about that!

Sir Devyn finished tuning his lute. As the doors to the reception room closed, he began his performance, and Soraya turned her attention to his songs and the subsequent discussion about his recent travels to raise support for their war and recovery efforts.

#

The troubadour finished his first set before taking a brief break, the intermission allowing the assembled guests to help themselves to more refreshment, slip away discreetly to one of the nearby garderobes, or mingle amongst themselves while Sir Devyn helped himself to a few sips of a hot lemon balm tisane sweetened with soothing honey and a couple of honeyed ginger suckets provided by their hostess for the ease of his throat while he rested from his performance. Glancing around the large chamber, he caught Mellie's eye and smiled, glad she had decided to turn up after all. He suspected it had not been an easy choice for her to make.

His gaze continued on, landing on another couple of guests who appeared to be in attendance together, much to Devyn's surprise. Who was the lovely young lady at Joss of Corwyn's side, and was this a serious interest at last, or just another one of the Duke's very brief flirtations that he occasionally indulged in when trying to shake off outside pressures to marry? Devyn could sympathize even if he couldn't quite relate. As a landless man without a steady trade who was constantly on the move, if anything he was under a lot more societal pressure not to marry, no matter how thoroughly his heart might be engaged.

It was just as well, Devyn supposed. Just because his own heart was fully engaged, that didn't mean the object of his affections cared for him in the same way. But that didn't stop him from hoping that someday her feelings towards him might change, so perhaps it was time he should consider putting down a few more roots and looking into steadier sources of income. Being a knight in royal service would hopefully assist him in achieving that goal. Normally he would simply ask the King about the possibility of being given some more permanent assignment. But now that the King of Gwynedd was Colin Haldane and the lady Devyn's heart longed for was the King's former paramour and the mother of his children, that was an additional complication to any hopes of following his heart.

Devyn took another sip of his tisane, his eyes continuing to roam the room. As his gaze locked with that of a young woman sitting towards the back of the chamber, he nearly spat out the mouthful of beverage in his startlement. Calculating blue eyes in a haughty face stared back at him. Jesu, what was his father's wife Arabella doing here in Rhemuth?

#

January 10, 1465
Outside the Rhemuth City Wall
The King's Meadow
Late Night

Hours of watchfulness had paid off. Lord Geoffrey watched as the small rowboat slipping silently downriver veered towards the bank near the point of the Kingsmeade green that lay closest to the Millsgate, drifting past the livestock gate and the near end of the footpath that led to the city gate and Millsbridge, looking for one of the shallower sections of the bank where it could put in.

There was a small stand of trees next to the river, low overhanging branches reaching out over the water and offering some concealment. At the end of that cluster of trees, on the narrow point of land at the confluence of the Molling and the Eirian, was the hollow tree where the Duke of Corwyn had left the bag of fake coins a few nights earlier, but it would be difficult for the boat to put in there where the bank was steeper and the mingled currents of the two rivers were more perilous. No, Jarvis Pratt or whatever accomplice he might have would find it much safer to pull a small craft ashore as close to the Millgate end of the green as possible.

The small boat briefly disappeared from the light of sight from Geoffrey's vantage point. As he was debating emerging from his concealed location to find a closer one from which he could watch the water's edge better, a slight rustling in the treeline caused him to pause and wait. A few moments later, he saw the top of a man's head emerge over the top of a low bank, the shadowy figure throwing a leg over the edge a second later to climb up to Geoffrey's level just a few yards away.

The King's chief intelligencer sent a pre-arranged mental signal to the guards on duty at the diplomatic portal housed just a few hundred paces away, between his location and the hollow tree containing the false ransom payment, to alert them of the new arrival slipping silently through the shadows of the concealing trees.

#

Jarvis Pratt gave a furtive look over his shoulder as he reached the hollow tree, but to his relief, no one appeared to have spotted him thus far. He carefully reached a hand into the hollow, his hand quickly encountering the rough texture of burlap enclosing a large lump that had not been there previously. He cautiously jostled the burlap-covered lump. Something that felt like a large number of coins shifted beneath his hand.

With a grin, he continued to feel around inside the dark space within the tree until his hand encountered what felt like a knot in the neck of the burlap sack. Grabbing the knot, he pulled upwards.

At first, he thought the sack was so large and filled with coins that it had gotten stuck inside the tree. A moment later, he realized that it was not the burlap bag that was stuck, but his hand, which for some reason he could extricate from the tree as far as his wrist, but no further.

The problem was not that the opening of the hollow was too small. Ordinarily, he would easily have been able to fit his head through it, not just his hand. No, those Haldane bastards had set some sort of magical trap for him!

Jarvis reached for his belt dagger with his off hand and began trying to hack at the thin bark around the opening, figuring if he could widen it, maybe he could somehow cut around the area affected by the spell and extricate both his hand and the sack of coins that way. He could figure out some way to get the wood and tree bark ring off his wrist later. It was a desperate move, to be sure, but he could ill afford to be caught with his hand in the tree at dawn's light.

"Hold, in the name of the King!" he heard a man's voice call out behind him. Jarvis nearly sawed off his own hand in his haste to try to extricate himself from the tree trunk so he could grab the money and run.


Next chapter: https://rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3539.0.html

[Evie]

(Just commenting to bump this up to its proper place in the chapters queue, since the chapter was in danger of getting buried under Chapter Three comments on the main page, and potentially missed by readers arriving later and not seeing the new chapter at the top of the pile.)

[Jerusha]

Don't worry, I would have searched for it until I found it!

Loved Pratt not being able to pull his hand out.  Well played!

[Evie]

Don't worry, I would have searched for it until I found it!

Loved Pratt not being able to pull his hand out.  Well played!

Yeah, he might come to regret that very soon! 

[tmcd]

A pity there wasn't a pit trap instead.  It would have been a Pratt fall.

[Evie]

A pity there wasn't a pit trap instead.  It would have been a Pratt fall.

[revanne]

I don't like the unwelcome appearance of Arabella. Poor Devyn has enough on his mind.

[Evie]

I don't like the unwelcome appearance of Arabella. Poor Devyn has enough on his mind.

Yes, Devyn is well aware that Arabella's presence spells trouble. The last time she was in the vicinity, he ended up estranged from his father and sent packing from the Ducal castle through no fault of his own!

[JudithR]

I don't like the unwelcome appearance of Arabella. Poor Devyn has enough on his mind.

Yes, Devyn is well aware that Arabella's presence spells trouble. The last time she was in the vicinity, he ended up estranged from his father and sent packing from the Ducal castle through no fault of his own!


I remember that scene.  From memory, " wearing nothing but a blanket and a (?adj) smile"

[Evie]

I don't like the unwelcome appearance of Arabella. Poor Devyn has enough on his mind.

Yes, Devyn is well aware that Arabella's presence spells trouble. The last time she was in the vicinity, he ended up estranged from his father and sent packing from the Ducal castle through no fault of his own!

I remember that scene.  From memory, " wearing nothing but a blanket and a (?adj) smile"

Yup, that's our gal!