|
Post by Brandwyn on Aug 3, 2011 11:02:11 GMT -5
(OOC: Setting: This starts just a few weeks before the Ranger Gathering and continues during the time of the Ranger Gathering in the late summer of the year 657. Location is in Marshwood fief at the open air market in Marshwood Port. This thread is open for anyone to post on.)
___
Fin was late opening her booth in the chilly autumn morning breeze at the open air market in Marshwood’s port. She hated to admit it to herself, but she knew she was feeling quite depressed since Ringulf, Mylia and Tory had set off for the Ranger Gathering. Although there were many times during this past year when Ringulf and the girls went on patrol around the fief, they were never gone for more than a few days at a time and she knew they were within a couple of days ride should something happen.
This time it was different. First of all they were not in Marshwood and since the location of the gathering grounds was a big secret, she didn’t even know where they were in the whole Kingdom. She felt a little bit of panic grip her heart when Ringulf had insisted that he could not tell her. He had sworn an oath, just as all the rangers and apprentices did, that he would never reveal the ground’s location to anyone who was not in the Corps. She understood that, but she didn’t like it. What if something happened to him? How would she know about it and how could she find him to help him? What if something happened to her? He wouldn’t be close enough to help her as far as she knew, but then again, the gathering could be in Marshwood fief for all she knew. She highly doubted it though. Regardless of where the Gathering was being held, he was out of reach and out of touch and she felt like she was adrift in a stormy sea without him.
She found it amazing, wonderful and terrifying to know just how much he had come to mean to her and how much of a part of her life the big ranger was. She had a hard time functioning without him and she just wanted to spend her days huddled in their big empty bed clutching his pillow and wondering what he was doing at that particular moment. She couldn’t let herself fall into that trap, however, because she knew it wasn’t healthy. Besides, she had commissions to fill. She had so many commissions to fill from the Harvest Faire, the Winter Revel and just her everyday booth business that she wondered how she was ever going to complete them all before Yule, let alone find time to make gifts for all of her friends to be handed out at Yule this year.
She stretched and yawned, noting that the sun had probably been up for a good hour or more and then opened up the side of her wagon. Even though she was now considered a permanent patron of the open air market, she still kept her wares in the wagon and opened it up every day. She felt they were more secure and that she could move them without any grand packing or fuss should she decide to travel to another market. She looked northward and just barely saw snow capped peaks of the mountains of Picta gleaming in the sunlight very far off in the distance. Picta, she had been considering travelling back there again. She hadn’t been in just over two years and thought that she might be able to pick up some very nice furs and more copper and silver for her jewelry if she returned to that one market she had stumbled across accidently two years ago. It was a temporary market that operated at the crossing of three major routes across Picta. There was a small village at the crossroads and a few permanent booths, but three times a year merchants gathered to exchange items from all over the country. One of those times was coming up in just a few short weeks during the heart of the harvest season. This would be the last market of the year before the winter snows would make the passes impossible to cross until spring. Perhaps when Ringulf got back they could make the trip if he could get away from the fief for a time. She didn’t really want to make the journey alone, even though she had done several trips into Picta in the past with no other company than her four black and white Skandian draft horses. The climate seemed to be different now, however, up in PIcta. Since the treaty between Araluen and Picta during the Aslavian war had been established there had been tensions internally between the Scotti clans. More tension than the normal squabbles, Fin had heard from the few travelers that visited her booth. The border between the two Kingdoms was almost closed and trade had crawled to a halt between Araluen and Picta.
“Get yer crawler’s here!” Fin’s thoughts were interrupted by the hawking of a sandy haired teenager carrying a basket. “Oysters, clams n scallops! Get yer crawler’s here!” Fin had seen the youth around several times before and knew he peddled a variety of items. Oysters and clams sounded rather good for dinner and she could probably smoke a bunch of them to have on hand throughout the winter when they really weren’t available fresh. She waved the boy over.
“Vwhat yah got der, my young frendt?” She asked as he approached. She eyed his basket full of shellfish and picked a couple of them up and sniffed them. “Vwhen didt yah catch dem? Dey smell like yah jes pluckt dem out ohf da vwater dis morning!” The entire catch looked to be in excellent shape and she knew how much Ringulf liked smoked oysters. Tory might not be very happy about them, but Fin could always cook Tory something else that night.
Then Fin looked at her wagon wall where some of her merchandise was hanging, waiting to be properly displayed on the tables she had not yet set up. She had been toying with the idea of making ‘seaside designs’ for those ladies that lived farther inland and the shellfish might be something she could use. She turned over one of the clams in her hand and looked at it thoughtfully and then at the boy in front of her, making up her mind. Bone was carvable and she didn’t see why oyster and clam shells would be any different.
“Vwhat vwouldt yah like tah trade for de whole basket?” Finn asked. “Vwinter is coming ant Ah haf lots ohf fers dat vwould keep yah warm on dose coldt vwinter nights.” Finn pulled out a wooden box that hung from the bottom of her wagon and was full of white fur from Skandian fox and rabbits. “Ah haf coin too if yah vwouldt prefer, but is der someting yah vwouldt rathder trade for?” She pulled out some of her weapons and common camp tools like a spit and cast iron pot as well as some of the raw metals she used to create them. “Ah haf metals, vweapns, leather ant furs as vwell as jewelry ant tools and othder trinkets. Look! Vwould yah be in needt ohf some fine fishhooks?” Finn pulled out a box of fishhooks that were of assorted sizes and styles. “Perhaps half coin andt half in goods?”
As she was showing the lad her raw materials, she was also setting up her tables and putting a few items out on display so that he could see them better. She placed a tray of her jewelry down on the table and a pair of earrings caught her eye. They had been made from pieces of a turtle shell and then she remembered this lad selling turtle meat earlier in the year.
“Say, yah catch de turtles, no?” She asked him. “I vwouldt be liking tah buy or trade fhor da turtle’s shell in de future if yah have a mindt tah part wit dem.” She held up the turtle earrings. “Dey make pretty jewelry dat deh noble ladies enjoy. Ah vwill pay yah top dollar fhor any yah might haf on hand now. It does not matter vwhat size dey are.”
Fin went back to his basket and eyed the shellfish again. “So, vhat vwill it be for de whole basket? I tink dose shells vwill make some very nice jewelry.”
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on May 11, 2012 18:10:52 GMT -5
Katrina was sitting on Ace at the edge of Marshwood's Market Square when she heard a familiar female voice with a Skandian accent. She moved toward the voice and soon saw Fin's wagon with Fin moving around setting up her wares. She was talking with a young man, more boy than man actually, who was peddling a basket of seafood.
She rode up to the wagon and sat there for several minutes, watching the exchange and glancing over Fin's merchandise, particularly the swords. Katrina's sword had a bad nick in the blade where it had come in contact with a Scotti shield a few weeks back. No amount of honing was going to remove the nick and Katrina had been waiting to find a good Smithy to fix it. Fin was one of the better ones and since they had met at the Winter Revel, she knew Fin would likely make her a good deal.
She didn't want to interupt the current trade, however, so she sat there on Ace and waited, hoping no one would notice her rather disheveled state. She had been on the road for weeks, patrolling along the Scottie border all the way from Macindaw to the eastern coast. She had seen some very disturbing things and encountered many bandits and evaded some very large bands of Scotti. She also ran into a small group of Wargals and managed to escape from them.
Katrina was tired, hungry, cold and still very weak from her two boughts with the plauge. She had lost weight until she was little more than skin pulled over her bones and the weeks on the road didn't help. She didn't have a choice, however. There weren't enough knights to take turns patrolling any longer. Too many had died from the plauge. Too many others killed by bandits or Wargals. She was currently covered in road dust which dulled the silver conchas on her saddle and spurs and her black riding tunic and breeches were frayed and starting to turn more gray than black.
She'd lost her bedroll and pack crossing a fast moving, icy cold mountain river coming down from the mountains in Picta across the border, nearly drowning in the incident, not realizing she was too weak to actually make the swim. If not for Ace fishing her out of the water, she wouldn't be here now. She was pretty sure she looked very little like a knight, except for the armor she wore and the lance she carried in the pommel holster which sported her silver unicorn device on a flag hanging from its tip. Though she found it bothersome to carry it around, that flag had saved her on at least one occasion when she ran into some Scotti who recognized her and considered her a friend. The lance had saved her more than once on the way here.
What she wanted right now was a hot bath and a huge bowl of stew and then to sleep for a couple of days. Instead she waited until Fin noticed her and finished up her business with the young lad.
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on May 14, 2012 22:57:36 GMT -5
“Get yer crawler’s here!” Fin’s thoughts were interrupted by the hawking of a sandy haired teenager carrying a basket. “Oysters, clams n scallops! Get yer crawler’s here!” Fin had seen the youth around several times before and knew he peddled a variety of items. Oysters and clams sounded rather good for dinner and she could probably smoke a bunch of them to have on hand throughout the winter when they really weren’t available fresh. She waved the boy over.
“Vwhat yah got der, my young frendt?” She asked as he approached.
"I have all types of Aquatic delicacies Ma'am! My Pa and I are the best Marshmen in the Fife an that's sayin somethin! If we can't catch it it ain't real!"
She eyed his basket full of shellfish and picked a couple of them up and sniffed them. “Vwhen didt yah catch dem? Dey smell like yah jes pluckt dem out ohf da vwater dis morning!” The entire catch looked to be in excellent shape and she knew how much Ringulf liked smoked oysters. Tory might not be very happy about them, but Fin could always cook Tory something else that night.
"You have an excellent nose my lady,(amongst other things), They were harvested around dawn, well most of them anyway. We have live baskets to keep most of the day's harvest fresh livin in the water by our cabin!" Djolimur looked at the hansom Skandian woman and felt some odd feelings, but he was not sure if she caught the quick innuendo about her nose.
She turned over one of the clams in her hand and looked at it thoughtfully and then at the boy in front of her, making up her mind. Bone was carvable and she didn’t see why oyster and clam shells would be any different. “Vwhat vwouldt yah like tah trade for de whole basket?” Finn asked. “Vwinter is coming ant Ah haf lots ohf fers dat vwould keep yah warm on dose coldt vwinter nights.” Finn pulled out a wooden box that hung from the bottom of her wagon and was full of white fur from Skandian fox and rabbits. “Ah haf coin too if yah vwouldt prefer, but is der someting yah vwouldt rathder trade for?” She pulled out some of her weapons and common camp tools like a spit and cast iron pot as well as some of the raw metals she used to create them. “Ah haf metals, vweapns, leather ant furs as vwell as jewelry ant tools and othder trinkets. Look! Vwould yah be in needt ohf some fine fishhooks?” Finn pulled out a box of fishhooks that were of assorted sizes and styles. “Perhaps half coin andt half in goods?”
"Boy howdy ma'am! You sure have some fine stuff here! I told Pa I was gonna bring home coin, but just seein' those fish hooks make me think he would be happy as a clam to get some! Even just knowin' a smith who could make some of the things we need would be a great help to us! We wouldn't have to rely on peddlers and tinkers anymore or some of the other Smiths here in the market, they think they are sent from the Hammer God himself, from the prices they charge!"
“Say, yah catch de turtles, no?” She asked him. “I vwouldt be liking tah buy or trade fhor da turtle’s shell in de future if yah have a mindt tah part wit dem.” She held up the turtle earrings. “Dey make pretty jewelry dat deh noble ladies enjoy. Ah vwill pay yah top dollar fhor any yah might haf on hand now. It does not matter vwhat size dey are.”
"Oh well, you want turtles I guess we catch more turtles than...um I already did my bragging but yeah, our last name is Turtleman so we been doing it for a long time, it's in the family you might say. We also trap Muskrat, Beaver, Otter sometimes, and Marsh Rabbit alot in the winter, if you want to add them to your wagon!"
Fin went back to his basket and eyed the shellfish again. “So, vhat vwill it be for de whole basket? I tink dose shells vwill make some very nice jewelry.”
"How about coin and hooks and your name good lady that I might bring Pa to meet you, would that be ok?"
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on May 17, 2012 13:14:24 GMT -5
"You have an excellent nose my lady,(amongst other things), They were harvested around dawn, well most of them anyway. We have live baskets to keep most of the day's harvest fresh livin in the water by our cabin!" Djolimur looked at the hansom Skandian woman and felt some odd feelings, but he was not sure if she caught the quick innuendo about her nose.
Fin didn’t miss the innuendo or the look the lad tried to hide and found his teenage awkwardness amusing, but she chose to pretend she hadn’t heard. She didn’t want to embarrass the youth. She poked down into the basket to ensure that those on the bottom were just as fresh as the ones on the top. They were and her opinion of the lad and his family remained high.
Fin went back to his basket and eyed the shellfish again. “So, vhat vwill it be for de whole basket? I tink dose shells vwill make some very nice jewelry.”
"How about coin and hooks and your name good lady that I might bring Pa to meet you, would that be ok?" the lad asked Fin.
Fin nodded and fished some coins out of her merchant box. She handed him four fishhooks of various types and sizes along with the coins. She also added a small metal trap with a three foot length of chain to the pile. “Dis is fer you. Yah push back da arms like dis, see? An den put de bait here. Vwhen de mink grabs de bait, it snaps shut like dis and snaps dere neck so dey do not suffer.” Fin explained and demonstrated the trap. “For some reason no vwone vwants tah buy dis, so yah cin haf it. Jes call it payment fer de shellfish.” She handed the items over and took the basket, dumping the crawlers into her own bucket and handing him back the empty basket. ‘Looks like I will have my morning chores cut out for me cleaning and smoking this shell fish,’ she thought and then she noticed Katrina hanging back, still sitting on her fine looking white mare with the black stockings and black diamond on her forehead. If Fin had trouble recognizing the female knight in her current state, she had none recognizing the Charger.
“My name is Glorfindel Therronsdottir, but meh friendts dey call me ‘Fin’.” She answered. “Ant wvhat is yer first name, my new young friendt?” remembering he’d just said his family name was Turtleman. She held out her hand to shake his. “I tink dis may be de start of a prosperous partnership, eh?” she smiled at him.
After Djolimur left Fin turned to Katrina, “Hello dere Lady Knight!” She smiled at Katrina, not missing the worn look about the woman or the fact Katrina looked to have lost a good 30 pounds since the Winter Revel. “I haf coffee brewing inside da vwagon, vwould yah care tah join me fer a cup?”
Katrina nodded back and gave Fin a weak smile as she slid down Ace’s side, lighting carefully on the ground, clinging to the saddle for a minute while she got her balance and the pain in her legs and back subsided somewhat. She’d definitely been in the saddle for way too many hours. “Thank you, kind Lady!” Katrina answered, dropping one rein to the ground, knowing Ace would stay put unless there was danger. “I have just arrived in Marshwood and haven’t even had a chance to get a room, cleaned up or breakfast. Coffee would be most welcome!”
She followed Finn into her wagon, careful not to knock anything over with her scabbard. Once inside Fin motioned her to a padded seat next to a small table. Fin poured the coffee and set a cup in front of the knight along with a small pouch of sugar cubes and a glass vial of heavy cream. Katrina added cream and sugar and took a long sip of the brew, sighing in relief as heat radiated out from her stomach. Slowly her shivering subsided. She didn’t even know why she was that cold, since it really wasn’t all that cold outside. There was just the faintest hint of fall in the air.
Fin dished up two bowls of beef stew that had walnuts, peas, carrots and potatoes mixed in and was so hot it steamed in the morning sunlight filtering through the window at the front of the wagon. “So tell me, deare friendt, vwhat can Ah do fur yah?”
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on May 20, 2012 20:44:15 GMT -5
Djolimar just about skipped back to his little punt that was tied up down by the river on the far side of the Rangers cabin. He hopped in with his bag of new hooks and tucked his coin bag up under the thwart were it would be safe and hidden. He poled out a little ways from shore and was elated the there was a south east offshore breeze which was unusual for this time of year but hey, he would take that with a smile, as with that he could hoist his little spritsail and sail back up the river against the slack tide rather than row and pole all the way. He had sold all his wares and delivered a bunch of his pa's leathergoods to other customers, ending up with Finn around two hours before noon. it was starting to get warm and he was glad he sold all the shellfish crabs and fish that he had come with. Now it was time for him to make his way home and tell Fowler all the exciting news and dump the bag of coin and the fish hooks on the table in front of him.
As he got the rig up and set the sail he hunkered down in the stern of the boat and gripped the tiller as it sat over his shoulder. As the wind whistled over his left shoulder he felt the lively little punt catch the wind and heal a bit to starboard, off he went with his back on a pile of netting and his right foot up on the combing.
As the day progressed the zephyrs and buffs of air got somewhat tricky and the steady Southeasterly breeze started to back around. Djolimar had to strike the sail and row for about 45 minutes till he got back home it was later in the afternoon and now that the sail was down the sun would have been in his eyes. Fortunately rowing is done facing the stern so he put his wide brimmed shady hat on to protect him from the sun and finished his pull toward home.
He tied off at the little dock. He reached below the thwart and took the bag of coin. He saw his father puttering around on the porch and when he got up to the porch he saw that a tantalizing spread of food was set on the table.
"Well how was the market DJ? Did you do OK, get everything sold and delivered?" Fowler asked as he finished setting out dinner.
"I saw you from quite a ways off so I got it all ready for you." He said with a wink.
Pa I think you are gonna be pretty happy at the harvest of this day!" said DJ with a big smile as he dumped out the coin and hooks on the center of the table.
Fowler's face lit up and his eyes grew large as he looked at Djolimar's haul.
"Well don't that beat all! You done good boy, you done good! Now let's eat and you can tell me all about it!"
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on May 21, 2012 17:55:06 GMT -5
Katrina gratefully accepted the cup of coffee and took a long sip in spite of it being just a bit too hot. The stew looked wonderful and smelled even better. She grinned at Fin, “thank you kind Lady. How’d you know I was starving?” She wolfed down three spoonfuls with hardly a breath between them, burning her tongue, but she didn’t care. The stew tasted even better than it smelled.
“Vwone has onlay tah luuk at yah tah see yah is nuting but bones, Lady Knight.” Fin answered and took a few minutes to wolf down her own breakfast. She tore off a huge hunk of bread from the plankard on the table and motioned for Katrina to help herself. For several minutes they ate in companionable silence until their bowls were wiped clean with the last bit of bread.
Katrina sat back and sighed in contentment, sipping at her coffee for a moment. Then she set the mug down. “You have no idea how much I needed that. I haven’t had a meal in two days, other than the last morsel of a very dried out travel cake.” Katrina drew her sword and examined the notch in the blade again for the hundredth time. “I lost all my supplies four days ago in a nasty, frigid river just inside Picta. If not for Ace, I wouldn’t even be here today.”
The knight laid the sword on the table between them. “A Scotti shield did that to my sword. Seems they have been getting some high quality weapons and armor lately, far better stuff than their usual lot,” Katrina mused and rubbed her forehead,
Fin looked the sword over, noting the fine metal in the blade. “Dis is goodt steel. I tink it from Iberion, no?” she asked while examining the damage. Katrina nodded confirmation. “Is no problem tah fix, but vwill take me some time tah mend it.”
Katrina nodded again. “I knew you were the Smith for the job!” She grinned and fished out a gold piece to hand it over.
“Dat is too much, Meh Lady.” Fin waved her hand in protest. “Dis only four silver wort off work ant no more.” Fin pushed the gold coin back. “ant I loan yah a sword tah use vwhile I work on dis vwone.”
Katrina looked at her dubiously. “You charge too little for your most excellent skills, Lady Fin. Henry is still raving about the sword you made for his Master-at-arms ceremony back at the Winter Revel.” Katrina knew Skandian stubbornness when she saw it though. “Okay, fine. Four silvers it is.” She produced the coins and then, with the business settled asked, “So what have you heard of news from Norgate the last couple of months?”
Fin set the sword aside and settled back in her own chair, coffee mug nearly empty. “I haf not heardt much, Katrina, but dere seems tah be a lot more folks coming intah Marshvwood dese days.”
“I’m not surprised.” Katrina sighed and stared into the coffee cup for a moment. “It’s been bad in Norgate and everyone is fleeing the plague, at least those that haven’t already died from it.”
“Vwhat plague? I heardt some rumors but taught dey vwas jest stories.” Fin asked in alarm. “Dere has been tales of dah border folk haffing troubles, but nuting has been announced by de Baron here.”
Katrina scowled. She wasn’t surprised. The Baron had undoubtedly heard and was probably trying to hide in his castle. No wonder she’d seen the gates closed and double guards posted when she’d ridden by it a little while ago. Well, she would have to address that, but not until she got herself cleaned up.
“They are calling it the Wargal Scourge and the White Death.” Katrina stared down at her covered arm. “It is brutal. You get a fever and headaches, terrible headaches. Then the little postules appear like a pox but they turn white and… well I would rather not relive it again. Twice was enough.” Katrina shuddered in memory.
“Yah haf had dis plague?” Fin asked in alarm and laid her hand gently on Katrina’s arm, “yah are alvright now?”
Katrina shuddered again, “Yes I have had it, twice, and no, I am definitely not okay. The first time was horrible. So many people caught it as soon as the spring came. So many knights and warriors that fought at the Winter Revel died. Just about everyone that was wounded in the battle. Except your young Skandian lad and anyone else with Skandian blood for that matter,” Katrina reassured her. “Young Aribjorn has done his country proud these last few months. I believe he is here in Marshwood now as well, though probably been so busy he hasn’t had a chance to sleep let alone visit.”
Fin was relieved that Aribjorn was not ill. She and Ringulf had not heard much from him for several weeks and he had only mentioned in passing that there was sickness in Norgate. “So dis is vwhy yah look so gaunt den?”
“Partly,” Katrina agreed. “After I survived the first bought when so many others didn’t I thought I was home free. One of the few survivors of the battle, but I was wrong. The second wave was so much worse.” She didn’t want to remember her ordeal, but the pain and fever was still fresh in her mind. The worst of it was remembering the look of defeat on Dougal’s face as he watched her grow weaker day by day. “Somehow I survived and very slowly I started to get better, but I am still weak. Perhaps now it is simply from lack of nourishment.”
Fin looked at her in confusion, “Are dey not feedin da people in Norgate dese days?”
Katrina shook her head, “There’s no food, or precious little. Of course now there’s no people either, at least not many. The nobles that have survived have holed up in their estates or fled east or south into Marshwood and Araluen. The peasants…most of them lie dead in their hovels. No one dares go inside to bury them, or the survivors don’t have the strength.” Katrina rubbed her temples, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. She was bone tired and the food that was settling nicely in her stomach was starting to make her sleepy. “The people are fleeing Norgate in droves now. I am not surprised you have seen many more faces in the market square. I rode past the docks and the harbor master has a waiting list of people wanting to book passage. When I asked where they are going he said anywhere and everywhere, but most are heading to Ibernia and Gallica”
Fin took a few minutes to digest the information and began to put together different things she had seen the last few weeks. In light of the news, it made perfect sense. Then she noticed Katrina trying to keep her eyes open. She stood up and cleaned the arrows she had been fletching off Ringulf’s bed in the merchant wagon. “Come.” She guided Katrina firmly by the elbow, nearly lifting her out of the chair. The knight seemed to weigh nothing and she could feel every boney nob of her elbow. “Yah get some sleep. Vwatever yah haf tah do, Yah can do it later after yah rest.”
“I can’t leave Ace out there, she needs to be fed.” Katrina protested, knowing she couldn’t give in to Fin’s kind offer.
“Ah vwill put her back vwit my mares at de cabin.” Fin argued. “It is but a few minutes vwalk from here ant Ah vwill rub her down ant give her plenty off fresh hay and a bucket of vwarm mash. Ringulf has a nice little stable fer de horses ant she vwill be snug and safe.” Fin stood with her hands on her hips, a formidable figure when she wanted to be. “Ah insist.”
Katrina started to refuse and then realized that Fin was right. She wasn’t going to be any good to anyone in her current state and Ace was spent as well. She nodded and sat down on the bed and pulled her boots off. “Very well, but I must check in with the Baron soon.”
“He vwill vwait until yah are ready.” Fin spread a wolf fur blanket over her. “Now go tah sleep ant I vwill vwake yah fer dinner.”
Katrina nodded and sighed in contentment. Her tummy was full and she was warm and most importantly she was safe and didn’t have to sleep with one eye open. Within moments she was lightly snoring and Fin smiled as she closed up shop and locked the wagon up safe. Then she gently took Ace’s reins and, talking to her the whole time, coaxed her to leave her master for a time and led Ace to the ranger cabin at the edge of town. On the way she now noticed the signs of plague victims that had been there all along but she had failed to notice.
Fin’s smile was replaced by a worry line and a pensive look on her face. Certainly there was going to be trouble for Ringulf and her in the days ahead. For the thousandth time since he had left for the Ranger Gathering she wished he was there.
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Jun 4, 2012 19:23:34 GMT -5
The next day Katrina went with Fin to Ringulf’s cabin and got Ace. Fin had offered Katrina the run of the cabin until Ringulf returned from the Gathering, which would likely not be for another week at least. Katrina was grateful for the offer, having no wish to stay in the Castle, especially with the current plague situation. She wasn’t sure if she would still infect people or not, so she had been avoiding most people. Since Fin and Ringulf were Skandian, and it seemed that they were immune, she felt it was safer to stay with them.
She was now clean, rested, and well-fed and had even managed to purchase some decent looking clothing. It wasn’t her usual attire in black and silver, but she at least looked like the daughter of a Duke now. She was heading up to demand to speak with the Baron.
Fin was dressed in her ‘finery’ as well which consisted of the bare Skandian armor, shield, great sword, helmet and battle axes strapped to a wide kidney belt with fur boots on her feet that came up to her knees and a sleeveless fur vest that laced up the front to cover her leather and chain mail brazier. She was insisting upon being Katrina’s body guard. Normally this would have rubbed Katrina the wrong way, but with her current health being rather less than stellar, she didn’t protest very strongly when Fin insisted on accompanying her.
They rode through the streets along the market area and the edge of the port and up through to the north side of the big C the bay created to where Marshwood Castle stood, its gates closed and 8 guards posted at the front.
Katrina assumed the air of a noble woman used to getting her own way and cringed inwardly at how much she was like her mother when she had to be. “Open up!” She said tartly to the guard that blocked their path.
“I am sorry, Your Grace, but I cannot.” The guard looked truly sorry and Katrina could tell he made note of her white belt, newly polished armor and chain mail and the sword hanging at her side. None of them could miss the lance with the silver unicorn banner.
“Then get me someone who can open these gates at once.” She replied impatiently. Ace pawed the ground with her large feathered hoof and snorted in the man’s face.
A higher ranking guard stepped up and tried to place a hand on Ace’s reins. He jerked back as Ace lunged at him, teeth bared. Taking a step back, he said, “I am sorry Lady, but we have orders to not open the gate for anyone, except on official business.”
Katrina leaned down and spoke to him as if speaking to a child, “And exactly what makes you think this is not official business? Do you know who I am?” The man shook his head and Katrina scowled. “You have not heard of the Lady Katrina de Montgomery, first female knight of Norgate, Scourge of the Scotti and called The Silver Unicorn?” She hated flaunting her titles, but sometimes it was necessary. “If not me, then surely you know of my father, Duke David de Montgomery, advisor to His Excellency, Baron of Norgate and second cousin to His Majesty himself?”
The man’s face paled, but he stood his ground, “I have heard of you, Lady Unicorn, and of your father, but you understand we are just simple soldiers placed here to ensure no one with the plague gets into the castle.” He said apologetically. “I can relay a message to His Excellency, Baron Justin, for you. It should only take a few minutes.”
Katrina glanced through the portcullis up at the castle, deciding if she wanted to play the spoiled rich daughter or be reasonable. “Very well, please inform His Excellency that I have urgent messages from the Baron of Norgate and probably the latest report from Stoneheath as well, since I passed through there only a few days ago. I have information on the plague and the refugee situation. It is imperative that I speak with him immediately.”
“I will tell him personally, My Lady.” The guard bowed and his men let him through the gates. To his credit he actually ran across the courtyard and disappeared inside the castle.
Katrina glanced at Fin while they waited and Fin just shrugged. She was out of her element here among the nobles. Skandians didn’t really treat their noblemen much differently than anyone else. In their culture being a remarkable warrior was much more applauded than whose son or daughter you were.
About ten minutes passed and Katrina saw the guard emerge from the castle and waive to the men in the gate house. They swung the gate open only far enough for Katrina and Fin to pass through single file and then closed and locked it behind them. The guard met them halfway across the yard and offered to hold their horses while they were inside.
“Ace will stand, so there is no need. Just keep everyone clear of her.” Katrina replied. Fin dismounted and handed the guard her reins. “Dis vwone vwill go tah vwherever dere is foodt.” She smiled at the man and followed Katrina to the castle door.
“The Baron is in the great hall, just go straight through the double doors and you can’t miss it.” The guard called after them. Katrina nodded without looking back and proceeded into the castle and then through the doors into the hall.
She was expecting the Baron to be a small man hiding behind closed doors too scared of the plague to venture out. She was pleasantly surprised to find out she was quite wrong. The Baron and a few of his advisors, including the harbor master (as evidenced by the insignia on his tunic’s badge) were in a deep discussion while brooding over a series of maps laid out on several tables at one end of the Great Hall. He glanced up at her and motioned her forward while listening to his harbor master explain that there were too many people massing along the docks looking for passage out of Araluen.
Katrina studied several of the maps while listening to the conversation for several minutes, not wishing to interrupt. She was gathering a good deal of information and the state of Marshwood they were describing was a rather dire one. Her news from Stoneheath was not going to be welcome.
Finally the Baron stopped the debate and turned to her, “Forgive me, Sir Katrina for making you wait. I hear you bear messages from my cousin of Norgate?”
Katrina nodded, stepping forward to give him a slight bow. “Forgive me for keeping my distance, Your Excellency. I must inform you that I have had this plague and I do not wish to come too close even though I am recovered from it. They are uncertain as to how it travels from one person to the next, so please forgive me for not shaking your hand.” Katrina noticed that several of the men took a step or two back away from her, some even covering their mouth and nose with a hanky or sleeve.
“I will not stay long, but I do have some letters from Baron William for you.” She pulled out a waterproof leather scroll tube from her satchel and placed it on the nearest table. “I can tell you that the flood of people from Norgate should be slowing down soon. The land is nearly empty for most have fled or succumbed to the illness. The ones who stay behind are either too weak or too stubborn to leave.” Katrina continued.
“Baron William fears a Scotti invasion. Everything points to there being some mastermind behind the events that have unfolded in Norgate, even those before the plague, such as with the roving bands of outlaws and bandits that were systematically attacking military families and other strategic targets.” The men standing around the Baron looked surprised at this news. “We think that the Scotti, or someone who is uniting the Scotti, is planning to walk in and take Norgate from the King. They could do so very easily at the moment.” Katrina rubbed her temples for a moment. “There are less than a dozen knights left in Norgate.”
“What?” “That is not possible” “How can that be?” Several of the men exclaimed and Baron Justin held up his hand for silence. He motioned to a group of chairs arranged around the table she’d set the scroll tube upon and took a seat at one end. Katrina took a seat at the opposite one, but Fin remained standing behind her, legs shoulder width apart and her hands folded across her chest. The two battle axes hung from her belt and she was a rather imposing figure, in spite of the fact she was a woman. She kept her eye on the other men, making sure none of them were going to be a threat to Katrina. Fear did strange things to people sometimes.
“Less than a dozen left?” Baron Justin echoed her in disbelief, “and what of the regular army, the men-at-arms and rank and file soldiers?”
Katrina thought for a moment, “When I left nearly six weeks ago over one half were dead and of the ones that remain a good two-thirds had contracted the disease. Some, like myself, have survived. Some of us have had it two or three times. Each time it makes you weaker. I estimate that maybe one quarter of Norgate’s fighting force is fit to fight and all of those have been sent out to patrol along the border of Picta.” This time there was stunned silence.
“Baron William is calling for aid from the King and all nearby fiefs. He does not expect troops from Marshwood, figuring you will have your hands full with the refugees and patrolling your own border with Picta, but he does want to know if you have had any activity along the border and what it is. He urges you to triple your patrols and guard the passes over the mountains.”
Katrina sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. “There is more…famine ravages the land, finishing off those who survived the plague. There were virtually no crops planted this year and there is not enough food to get through the winter, let alone feed those soldiers we still have. If there is any food Marshwood could spare, the Baron is willing to pay for it or offer up some of his stores of raw ore and wool in trade.”
Baron Justin didn’t answer immediately but instead prompted her, “My guard told me that you passed through Stoneheath just a few days ago. We have not had a report from them in the last seven days. What news do you have?”
Katrina looked him in the eye and said, “The refugees are still clogging the road and trying to get to the port. They are hungry and tired and most have very little food or supplies with them. The High Road looks to be jammed with them and I have to believe that some of them are sick or soon will be. I fear they have brought the plague with them. Many in Stoneheath are ill from what I was told and they are trying to redirect the refugees to the south into Caraway and Araluen, but there is not a lot of success with that.” Katrina knew he wasn’t going to like her next suggestion.
“Personally, I feel that you should close down the port and ground the ships.” Katrina was prepared for the loud protests that followed her suggestion. Again Baron Justin had to hold up his hand for silence. “I know this would not be a popular decision, and the people will likely riot, but if you let infected people leave on the ships, they will carry the plague to Gallica and everywhere else. They need to be contained. Camps should be built for the refugees to winter in and food should be shipped in from the southern fiefs.”
“You would have the plague kill all of us in Marshwood then?” One of the men protested.
“Why didn’t your Baron close down Norgate and keep his people and this sickness there?” another of the noblemen asked Katrina.
Katrina looked down at her feet. “I wish he could have, for I fear it is too late now. The plague has already gone beyond Norgate’s borders, but there was no one left to close the border or enforce it.” She looked up at the men. “The first wave of the illness took nearly all of us knights and many soldiers. We fell ill before the general masses did. People started to flee as soon as it was apparent that two thirds or more would not survive the plague. Those of us with the training and weapons to keep the people in Norgate were in no condition to defend the borders.”
Baron Justin looked at her with sympathy. “I understand,” he said and the other men looked somewhat mollified but not at all happy with her earlier suggestion.
“We would have done so, if we were able to keep them in Norgate. By the time the word was sent to Redmont, Araluen and here, the refugees had already begun to pour in. I suspect they have moved even farther south and if nothing stops this sickness, all of Araluen is soon going to be so weakened that if a Scotti army marched down from the mountains they could waltz right into the King’s castle in Araluen and take him captive. We have to organize a resistance force and be prepared for an invasion. I feel it in my bones that one is coming.” Katrina said earnestly. “I probably know the Scotti better than any knight in the Kingdom. I have spent my life studying them and fighting them and I tell you, they are preparing an army.”
Baron Justin picked up the tube of documents Katrina had lain on the table and rolled it thoughtfully in his gloved hands. “Let me look this over and consult with my advisors. I am assuming you are to take a reply back to William?”
Katrina nodded and stood up. “I would like to do so. I may be able to travel back along the road and convince some of the refugees to return to Norgate, or at least to turn southward instead of coming here. However I am also supposed to be reporting on the Picta border so I will be making checks up into the mountains on the way back as well.”
“Do you have any more news of the state along the border?” Justin asked her, also standing.
“Not a great deal. I can tell you that the Scotti are not letting anyone from Araluen into PIcta. They are also either killing or capturing any who insist on trying to get in after one warning. They claim that they have heard of this illness and that the border is closed.” Katrina answered. “I saw far more Scotti along the border than there ever has been. What’s more is it appears that the clans are uniting. I saw many old rivals appear to be working together patrolling their border. They are also venturing well into Norgate’s territory on this side of the mountains. Oh, and one more thing, they seem to be very well equipped from what I saw. Several of them have very well-made shiny new weapons and armor – certainly not the usual Scotti equipment.” Katrina turned to stride out the door and then paused, “I will be staying in the Ranger’s cabin for the next week or so, until Ranger Ringulf returns. I would like to hear of the news from the Ranger Corps before I return to Norgate. You can send word to me there, if it pleases Your Excellency.” She bowed again and Baron Justin nodded to her. Then she strode out with Fin following dutifully behind.
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on Jun 6, 2012 16:03:58 GMT -5
(OOC: This is a crossover post joining "The Hazards of Trading" to "Something in the Air" You can find this post on both threads.)
The road had been rather long and dark as I had left going westward along the Lowroad from the cabin, just around sundown .
I had a good deal of walking to do to get to Westmarch. but I would be there soon.
With the success at the market place that morning I was able to put the whole order together for the Wardens and now had some wicker traps and several other pieces of clayware pots and such for Gracie. There was also a net that had been mended and I had that rolled on my back along with my bedroll.
I was going to overnight at the warden's compound as usual and then take one of their boats back for repair and overhaul.
Simone would be happy to see all the cut fletches I had brought, She and the other wardens would need them as fall progressed. This was the time when the most poaching occurred and it would be very hard to squire the fletches for another month while the waterfowl were being harvested. It took some time for the feathers to be plucked, washed, sometimes dyed, and then cut. Even though the wardens liked to fletch their arrows themselves there was not enough time to sit and prepare the fletches, so I had been supplying them since I was about eight years of age.
It was one of my first business deals, and though guided by Fowler, it was my deal and I had done well with it all this time. The contact I had made with the former Ranger of Marshwood, Donagal MacHeath had spread my name some too, and a few of the Westmarch hunters had also liked the idea of getting good quality fletches delivered right to them along with some of the other gear that me and my Pa made and sold.
I thought about Donagal, he was a good man and he was very kind to the people of the Marsh. There had been an older man before him, very old it seemed but I had a hard time even remembering him as I, at that time, was very young, he had retired a little after the fire that had destroyed so many peoples lives many years ago and had sent me to live with my "Pa" Fowler. I miss family but the pain has dulled as my life with Fowler was full and busy.
It was strange, we had nothing by the standards of many and could have been dirt poor and destitute. However even though our lives were filled with hard work, it was usually very enjoyable. Most likely what I would be doing for fun as a boy growing up by the marsh. At least Fowler never said to "stay away from that swamp!" or "be careful people die out there!" or that kind of thing like the boys and girls of Westmarch were used to hearing from their mothers. Nope the marsh was my Mother and my playground and Fowler had taught me everything he could from the day we became family so I would always respect it and never have to fear it. As a result we have the riches of the marsh and of freedom and the enterprise of our own industry and cleverness. I have never felt poor, always had food always had my nice cozy cabin always had a bit of scratch in my pouch due to my own industriousness and life had been good since the fire.
Ranger MacHeath had always looked in on us and he was Pa's friend as well, many nights the two would sit by the fire and finish a jug between them and tell the most wonderful stories. Well that was until he went and got himself an apprentice, a girl apprentice at that! She was OK, if a little flighty and we actually became pretty good friends. I had few real friends being a ways from both the Port and Westmarsh.
We had seen them less and less as some of the trouble had started with the "Poachers". I remember the raised voices of the men who came to visit Fowler, mostly in the night and even the arguments that he and Donagal had more and more. when that happened me and Kristin, the Ranger's Apprentice, would sneak out to the shed and lie on their backs in the hay and talk about all kinds of things. I had almost wished I had been Donagal's apprentice. But now that I think about it, I was already "apprenticed" to one of the best Marshmen in all Marshwood.
Not only that but if I had been, I would have most likely been face down in the swamp with an arrow in my back or captured by the Briggands right now instead of poor Kristin.
The thought of the day I found the rough little skiff floating past the dock still haunts me.
I saw the skiff and had figured it got loose from one of the cabins up river so I swam out to it and as I reached up to the gunnel and started to pull myself aboard the tilting skiff brought me face to face with the dead and mutilated Ranger, his cold, dead, white eyes staring right into my own.
I had screamed and gone under trying as hard as I could to frog kick away from the skiff and the dead man, when I got tangled in the painter, the rope that was tied to the skiff's bow, which had caught me as it trailed behind and below the water.
It was all I could do to swim back to shore but eventually I got the line sorted out and pulled it with my right hand while side stroking back to the dock.
Fowler came running down to the dock as I landed I was wondering how he knew. Then I realized I had been screaming since I broke water and had just become numb to it since I had been doing it so long. I felt all along like it was happening to someone else and that I was just along for the ride, watching from outside my own mind.
Anyway feeling those feelings of terror are not helpful on a dark road by myself so I need to force my mind back to better thoughts.
The new Ranger, Ringulf was a bit different from Donagal. I didn't know him very well as he and Pa had not struck up a friendship. Pa kind of kept his distance. When he first came to visit I thought he was double crazy as he had two apprentices and they were both girls! He went to talk with Pa for a while, I think about Donagal's murder, and while they spoke, I got to go sailing on the marsh with Milia and Tory his Apprentices.
They were allot of fun, and really cute, Mylia seemed really into the sailing and Tory although she was there and participating was acting a bit strangely. I figured out before she told me that she was kind of scared of the water. She seemed to relax a bit when I told her that most of the water here in the marsh never got deeper than about five foot so if you got into trouble or your boat sank, you could always walk home.
They both laughed at that.
I don't think things had gone as well with Pa and Ringulf, when I got back they were waiting and Ringulf herded the girls away so fast I almost didn't get to say goodbye, and Fowler just turned and walked back up to the cabin. He dove into the jug for the rest of the night and was like a bear the next morning out on the marsh with me.
Now Simone was a Ranger too but got her leg hurt so Ringulf gave her a job running the wardens. She was good too! really good. She made all those guys step and fetch and do their jobs, allot better than that White fella whose whole family was a bunch of poachers and pirates! What a scurvy bunch, no wonder he got it in the gut in a knife fight with his older brother.
But Simone kinda liked me and Gracie and the wardens spoke up for me so she honored Donagal's trade agreement with me.
Witch is why I am now in sight of the compound. But what the hell is with those riders coming my way like bats out of hell!
I watched as the riders approached and realized they were not gonna stop so I scuttled to the side of the road.
I looked up at them as they passed, some big dark guy in the lead holding a light crossbow. A husky white bearded fellow who looked like the peddler that wandered around here and ..wait he was tied by the wrists and had a gag in his mouth! the other guy was holding the lead rope on the peddler's horse and that guy I knew well! He was the older brother that had killed Warden White.
As they passed they must have seen my face and that I recognized him because the first guy with the crossbow swung in the saddle and fired right at me!
I could do nothing but turn from him and fortunately the bolt struck me between the shoulders. I felt a little poke but realized that I was lucky to have had my bedroll and the net to stop the bolt from killing me.
I fell to the ground from the impact and so they would not waste time coming back to make sure I was dead, and when they were gone I jumped up and ran to the compound.
"Simone! Simone! Gracie! Olaf! What's happening?! Help!'
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Jun 18, 2012 18:46:49 GMT -5
Katrina and Fin rode back around through the town of Marshwood until they reached the market area near Finn’s wagon booth. “Ah vwill go ant fix your sword, Katrina. You vwill be okay, eh?”
Katrina nodded, “Yes, thank you Fin, I will be happy to get my own sword back, not that there is anything wrong with this fine weapon you have loaned me, but I am used to the balance on my own.”
Fin nodded, “Ah understandt, Ah too livedt by the sword for many years, yah know.” Fin winked at her and turned her huge black and white Scandian draft horse toward her wagon. “Vwhere are yah going? Yah shouldt take dis time tah rest and regain your strength.”
Katrina looked around the town for a moment before answering, her eyes drawn to the sea, “I am going to go down to the docks and see for myself what the state of affairs is there, then I will probably go back to Ringulf’s cabin and take you up on that offer of rest.” She smiled wanly at Fin and turned her white battle horse with her two black stockings and a black diamond on her forehead toward the ocean. “I will see you for supper, yes?”
“Ah vwill bring da foodt!” Fin agreed, “Perhaps dat young Djolimer ladt vwill come wit some more shellfish!” She said enthusiastically, wondering when the lad would show up next. Some fresh muscles would taste pretty good for supper tonight, she thought.
They parted with a wave and Katrina proceeded toward the waterfront where all the ships were moored. She stopped on a rise and studied the scene below for several minutes. She noted a Skandian knarr was just pulling into the harbor, but it was on the southern side of the C-shaped bay and too far away to make out any distinguishing marks. She wondered if it was by any chance the ship she had sailed to Gallica on at the beginning of the war. The Skandians had really been a major factor in the allied countries winning against Aslavia.
She turned her attention back to the area where the largest mass of people were milling around on the piers and along the boardwalk. Those who were not refugees stood out at this distance and Katrina did not like what she saw. There were several individual men, or those in groups of two or three that were keeping an eye on the general masses. Katrina saw one group perform a near perfect heist of an older couple’s small chest. She was too far away to stop them however and lost them in the crowd before she could even begin to pursue them.
There were many others, men, women and even street kids that were taking advantage of those fleeing the plague and it made Katrina’s blood boil to know that they were making the already impossibly difficult lives of those peasants even more harsh by stealing what little was left to them. “Something has to be done.” Katrina muttered to herself as she started Ace down the hill and into the throng of people.
The smell of rotten fish, unwashed bodies, vomit and decaying flesh reached her as she got closer to the ships and boats tied to the piers. She took a moment to pour some rum on a scarf, take a long swig of the liquor and then tied the scarf over her nose and mouth to try to hold the smell at bay. She saw many others with scarves or other pieces of cloths tied over their noses too. The rum helped, but it did not mask the smell completely. She wondered how anyone could stand it as her stomach churned, threatening to rebel.
She rounded a curve and since she was on Ace and higher up than the greatest part of the throng of people, she was able to make out a group of four men dressed in Scotti plaid kilts taking shelter between some crates stacked along the water’s edge. They were watching both the harbor and the people milling about and something set off Katrina’s internal alarms. She made a beeline for them and it wasn’t until she drew close that she recognized the plaid pattern and the blond mop of hair with the dread knot as one of her old Scotti friends from the war. She steered Ace through the crowd that parted before the big warhorse and knight with her banner on her lance streaming over her head and arrived at the crates. The Scotti warrior looked up at her, a big grin on his face, “I was wondering how long it would take you to get through this crowd,” he greeted her, reaching up to pet Ace who nuzzled him like an old friend. At Katrina’s look of surprise he pointed to the tip of her lance, “You are kinda hard to miss, Silver Unicorn.”
Katrina grinned pulling down the scarf from her face and jumped down from Ace, leaning her lance on the crates she gave the Scotti a big hug, “Shamus! It is so good to see you again, and you too Fergus!” She grinned at them and Shamus laughed. “So are you a MacBeane today or a MacConnell?” she joked. The last she had heard, Shamus was in line to become clan leader of both clans and they were two clans that normally did not see eye-to-eye on much of anything.
“Actually disinherited,” Shamus shook his head, looking down at his feet sheepishly and Katrina noted the scowl on his other two friend’s faces.
Katrina looked at him with surprise again, “How so? I thought you were selected to lead the MacBeane’s last fall. Did you banish yourself?” She tried to bring some levity to what was obviously a touchy subject among the four.
Shamus laughed and shook his head again, “no, if only it were that easy,” he replied. “There was a coup shortly after I assumed leadership. I lost a lot of good friends that night and when the fighting was over, I was in chains and that usurping bastard, cousin Brodie was sitting at the head of my table,” Shamus growled. “if it wasn’t for Fergus and some of my good friends, I would likely a’ been strung up by now and swinging on the end of a rope for the carrion.”
Katrina was very surprised at the news. Normally she was pretty well informed as to the politics in PIcta, but for the past year there had been very little trade or communication over the border. “So you have fled to Araluen to seek asylum?”
“Not exactly, Lady Unicorn,” Fergus answered, “but this is not the place to discuss such things.” He gave Shamus a look and Katrina noted that the other two were looking equally uncomfortable.
“Look, we are expecting to meet someone here shortly,” Shamus easily deflected her question. “But I would dearly love to catch up with you before I sail out of here.” He kissed her gloved hand, steering her back toward her stirrup. “If I might be so bold as to ask where you are staying that I might call upon you this evening?”
Katrina remembered that he had not been chosen as his country’s diplomatic courier for no reason back during the war. He was a smooth talker and oozed charm when it suited him. She still didn’t trust him, but he had never given her a reason not too and she knew it was largely because he shared kinship with and looked so much like the Scotti lad that had stolen her heart and ripped it out of her when she was an apprentice. Though she liked Shamus, she just couldn’t quite let that go when she was around him.
She took a moment to remount Ace as she tried to decide if she should tell him where she was staying or pick a neutral site for them to meet, but she had to admit that the ranger cabin was going to likely be the most secure place they could talk without anyone overhearing her.
“Come to the ranger’s cabin just to the south of the town after supper tonight.” Katrina gave him directions and nodded her head at the other three as she prepared to leave.
“Lady Katrina?” Shamus stopped her, “Is that great brute Dougal with you by any chance?”
A look of pain and longing crossed Katrina’s face for a moment before she shook her head, “I am afraid not, but I shall fill you in this evening.” For some reason she thought it might be best if he didn’t know Dougal had been sent to Picta on a special assignment just after she had recovered from her second bout of the plague. She missed him terribly and had received no word from him since then. She waved at them, picking up her lance that Shamus handed to her and forced her way back out into the throng of people clamoring for a spot on a ship, not caring where it was headed as long as it was away from the plague.
Shamus rubbed his chin with one hand and looked after Katrina thoughtfully. “Well boys, I think our evening just got very interesting!” He smiled, but his eyes remained calculating as if he were trying to figure out how to use Katrina to his advantage.
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on Sept 21, 2012 0:10:32 GMT -5
It was one of those rare days when The crisp fall weather was like a breath of fresh air and the sky above was so blue and clear it almost sparkled. Geir had earned a weekend pass for volunteering for a lot of messenger duty and spending weeks on end manning the wall with the rest of the Wardens.
He enjoyed his time so far in the wardens, they took you for who you were and what you could offer, if you had no skills you where not a warden. No apprentice program, no lessons or schooling...just on the job training. Sink or swim, and Geir liked that.
He had already proven himself with a bow and the outdoor skill needed to survive and thrive, especially in the winter environments. But hey that comes easy to a Skandian.
He fit in well with his fellow Wardens, after meeting their expectations, what's more Geir was a quick study, a hard worker and he never complained. He took on extra whenever he could and would help his comrades without bragging or expecting anything more than the easy give and take of men who stood shoulder to shoulder against adversity.
But this morning was different, He had taken a punt down river from Westmarsh when he was relieved yesterday afternoon and got to the Ranger Cabin in Marshwood Port just after nightfall.
He saw that there had been some things undone around the cabin, having done many of these chores for a while before joining the wardens, so he pitched in and did them took care of the animals and brought in hay from the loft to the byres and stable. He noticed there a large warhorse and made sure the animal had all it needed. He kept his distance and did not try to get too familiar, as warhorses could be a bit nasty if they didn't know you, just the way they are trained one quarter watchdog, one quarter attack dog and one half pure hell on hooves.
But he loved their spirit! Still better leave him alone till we are properly introduced he thought. It seemed the horse appreciated it as well.
He gave a loud hello as he had always done when entering so that if anyone were there or engaged in an activity they would not be startled and he smelled the delightful aroma of Finn's cooking.
Well at least Finn is here, I hope this knight is here on good terms, Finn was a beautiful woman one not easily taken advantage of, but a woman alone in this day and age is still a target, perhaps even more so of nobility. This knight or soldier whoever he was might not have the purest of intentions. Geir loosened the longseax on his belt and check the short one in his boot, then went to go find his friend.
"Finn! You here? that seafood your cooking smells very goot!"
As he came into the greatroom he saw fin and another woman sitting together on one of the rustic but comfortable couches.
They were sipping tea and chatting but something was strange, These were not gabby doughty housewives, these women were both warriors.
Both, blond beautiful and capable ones. "Damn, now I know what Ringulf must been seeing when he woke up to see his "Valkyrie" standing over him, I didn't know Valkyrie's drank tea!
Finn had seen him and asked what he had said and Geir was a bit taken back as he did not know he had spoken aloud.
"I...um...wondered if you ladies needed more Tea!" he substituted quickly.
The both giggled a bit (even Valkyries giggle) and Geir flushed. They had heard every word he was sure but he could not crack now so he said the first thing that came to his mind.
"Um high Finn I am on leave for the weekend and wanted to take some time tomorrow in the market I was wonderin if I can stay here and get out in the morning?...Ah I don't believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance M'Lady he said as he bowed to The other woman. She was just about as tall as fin but slimmer in build. in their soft tunics they looked as though they could be sisters.
Finn introduced them and they all sat down to dinner with plenty to go around. This to was becoming more uncommon as the plague had driven up the prices of food and reduced the amount creating scarcity from the lack of able bodied folk to harvest and market it.
But this was now morning and last night a memory. A pleasant one to be sure as Geir rarely got the opportunity to dine then recline before a roaring fire, Cognac in hand, with two such attractive ladies. Of course he had minded his manners, but that did little for his racing thoughts this morning. Ah as the silly Gaulicans say, L'Amour!
Geir was Dressed in very common clothes, he did not want to be recognized as a Warden, ranger or even the Baron's court Jester, he just wanted to blend in and not be bothered.
He took in the sights, sounds and smells of the waterfront and it's massive open air market.
As he meandered Through the entirety of the busy throng of humanity, he began to get the sense that the market had changed very much in just a few short weeks. I was no longer a place of commerce where people bought and sold and Hawked their wares or bartered for the best price. there was a strange sense of urgency and the smell of fear. one did not dicker if they had any coin it was spent at whatever price they could immediately obtain and then their purchase was guarded with their life.
As he neared the quays at the waterfront he noticed the number of ships both tied up at the docks and moored in the harbor were more than doubled, and there was a plethora of small to large rowing boats, dinghies, tenders, barges, and many other light craft shuttling people and their goods and their families out to the waiting ships.
He noticed that many people argued with each other for slips of paper and all seemed riveted to the men on the quay calling out names and numbers. At first he thought it might have been a boat auction but then he realized that these were refugees fighting and hoping to gain passage and that it was in a way an auction but the passage was the object of the bid! Thee men were getting rich, pickpockets and cut pursed abound con men confidence schemes, flim flammers and charlatans all circled their quarry picking off the stray or unwary.
He walked down the neck, the long spit of land that bordered the southern edge of the port and formed a natural jetty from the southerly fetch. As he walked out he got a better view of the ships in the harbor. What a mess, what a confused cacophony of activity among the tangle raft of ships. One could almost walk from ship to ship across the breadth of the harbor.
And the ships? From all ports, of all types many disheveled, many almost unseaworthy. with men of all nations in the rigging and most could have been taken for pirates rather than honest seaman.
"By the gods this does not look good, I gotta get back and talk with Finn and Katrina, they will know what to do!"
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on Oct 12, 2012 10:51:59 GMT -5
Geir made for the cabin with all haste, he moved quickly through the congestion of the market and then jumped into the dunes to the south and ran along the banks till he got to the Ranger's cabin to avoid the crowds.
He came into the cabin at a bit after noon and found Finn, He did not see Katrina but had seen her horse in the paddock so she must still have been there.
"Finn, I have just come from the marketplace and the waterfront... have you seen the harbor? It is madness and the people are being very badly treated. I can not believe that there are so many unscrupulous people that would take advantage of people in this position. They do not care about their condition they just want gold!"
"I saw ships of all kinds from every nation I know and even some I did not, And they are not the only ones getting rich from the plague, The harbor fees are exorbitant and I imagine the bribes given are even higher. I think someone needs to watch the Harbormaster and the Baron because, protest as they might, this is filling the Baronial coffers faster than if they had a hen house of golden egg laying chickens!"
"Can we talk to Katrina about it? I also need to see if Simone knows what is going on. She may be of some help too. By the way, when is Ringulf and Mylia expected back they should be here soon don't you think?"
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Oct 13, 2012 20:39:07 GMT -5
Fin was letting their large evening meal simmer when Sir Katrina walked into the room carrying a message that had just been delivered by a street urchin. She was reading it and had almost a scowl on her face.
“Vwould you like some hot tea, Katrina?” Fin asked as she poured herself a cup of lemon chamomile tea.
“Thanks,” Katrina nodded and gracefully slipped down on the couch, tossing the message onto the little side table next to her. She accepted the tea with a smile. “I just got a strange message from Shamus.”
Fin sat down next to her at the other end of the comfortable couch and blew on her tea to cool it. “Ah take it he is nodt coming ta dinner den?” They had both been expecting Shamus and his friends for the last half hour.
“No, he says in his letter he is very sorry, but unfortunately a ‘serious job has just come up and I am recalled to duty.’ She quoted the message.
“Vwhat is so strange about dat?” Fin asked her, perplexed.
“Well,” Katrina picked up the note again and studied it. “Nothing would be, if one didn’t know Shamus personally. First of all, I don’t think he would miss out on a chance to see me no matter what his duties are. He was trying his best to steal me away srom Dougal during the war. The fact Dougal has always been there in the past has kept him civil, but he knew that tonight Dougal would not be here to intervene. So unless he’s suddenly changed his priorities, he’s up to something.” Katrina explained.
“That in and of itself is rather strange, but that’s not all. It’s his wording in his note; ‘I am recalled to duty’… what duty? He is supposed to be the head of his clan. He would be the one doling out duties to the others. He was adamant about not joining the Pictish army, so what duty is he talking about?” she mused. “And then we come to; ‘a serious job.’ I don’t like the sound of that.”
“No? It does nodt seem at all strange tah me.” Fin didn’t see anything unusual in the note at all.
“It wouldn’t have to me either, except for the fact he basically told me he is disinherited and here in exile. So if he has been kicked out of Picta by his own people, then how could he be recalled to duty? It looks as if he lied to me this morning, or he is lying in this note.”
“Hmmm” Fin pondered it for a moment and then heard familiar steps on the front porch. She turned in surprise as a young Skandian lad entered Ringulf’s cabin.
"Finn! You here? that seafood your cooking smells very goot!"
Fin smiled, “Gier, is dat you? You sure haf filled out dese past few months. Warden life must agree wit yah.” She noticed he was standing there a bit dumbfounded for a moment and took another sip of her tea to hide a smile.
"Damn, now I know what Ringulf must been seeing when he woke up to see his "Valkyrie" standing over him, I didn't know Valkyrie's drank tea!"
Fin pretended she hadn’t heard him, “Vwhat’s dat my young frendt?” she asked innocently giving Katrina a look. Katrina carefully maintained her straight face as if she hadn’t heard a thing. Neither of them wanted to embarrass him, but it seemed it was too late for that.
"I...um...wondered if you ladies needed more Tea!" he substituted quickly.
They giggled, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I thank thee, but vwe only just sat down vwit de cup.” Fin explained and motioned him inside.
"Um high Finn I am on leave for the weekend and wanted to take some time tomorrow in the market I was wonderin if I can stay here and get out in the morning?...Ah I don't believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance M'Lady he said as he bowed to The other woman.
“Ahhh, yah know dat you are alvways vwelcome here. Vwe left your oldt room jest as yah left it.” Fin answered. “Dis is Sir Katrina, a knight from da Norgate fief. She is staying here too for a few days to rest up.”
Katrina nodded her head to the handsome young Skandian. Her lips twitched slightly to keep from giggling again as she noticed how Gier was looking at her and Fin. She felt flattered that he would be thus attracted to an ‘older’ woman, but she had no desire to encourage him. Best he knew she was engaged right from the start.
“Hello there, Warden. I have heard a bit about you from Ringulf and Fin. It is too bad my fiancé, Dougal, is away on his own assignment, for I am sure he would have enjoyed meeting you.” Katrina stood up, tucking the note into her waistband. “Well, it seems we have plenty for dinner, since my guests I invited are not coming afterall it seems.” Katrina looked to Finn and the Skandian woman nodded assent. “Would you care to dine with us?”
…
The next afternoon Fin had stayed at the cabin to work on some private commissions in the huge forge she’d built behind the ranger cabin. She had just come in for some lunch when Geir rushed in and gave his report on the conditions in the port of Marshwood. Fin nodded, “Dis Ah know and haf seen it myself. I do not know vwat vwe can do dough.”
"Can we talk to Katrina about it? I also need to see if Simone knows what is going on. She may be of some help too. By the way, when is Ringulf and Mylia expected back they should be here soon don't you think?"
Katrina walked in from her room just on the tail end of the conversation. “Discuss what? I am always open to talking about things.” Katrina sat down and gave Geir her full attention. She frowned at his report, but nothing he said was new from what she had witnessed the other day. “I believe you are right, Geir, but I don’t think talking to the Baron is going to do much good. I already tried that. I hope Ringulf gets here soon, for this is something the ranger should present to the Baron.”
She wished there was more they could do, but without the backing of the rangers they would likely only get themselves thrown into the dungeon if they even suggested the Baron was behaving inappropriately.
“I think maybe I could go patrol along the waterfront and it might help cut the more obvious crimes out, but one knight alone is not going to have a huge impact. Besides that, the merchants aren’t breaking any laws really, so far as I can tell.”
“Ringulf shouldt be back very soon, I tink. I hope he can findt a vway to resolve dese problems.” Fin nodded to Geir’s question about Ringluf and Mylia. “Vwell, I have been selling my goods at same value as if der vwas no plague. De oddur merchants tink I am undercutting dem and haf told me tah raise my prices or dey vwould turn me over tah de merchant guild. Fin explained. “But dat is not going tah stop me from doing da right ting. Perhaps a talk wit da merchant guildmaster might haf some affect.”
Katrina nodded, “That sounds like a good idea, but be careful if you do. They can be slippery, tricksome little devils when they get the opportunity. Would the marshwardens be able to help patrol the waterfront?” Katrina asked Gier.
|
|
|
Post by Ringulf on Oct 16, 2012 8:29:42 GMT -5
Katrina nodded, “That sounds like a good idea, but be careful if you do. They can be slippery, tricksome little devils when they get the opportunity. Would the marshwardens be able to help patrol the waterfront?” Katrina asked Gier.
"No Ma'am I am afraid we are spread much to thin already, most of the wardens are on the Greenwall and a skeleton crew are still patrolling the marshes, doing the job they were hired for. Though poaching and regulation is not quite as much their focus right now as making sure that people are not killing or robbing one another. This whole plague thing seems to have given everyone license to turn their backs on the laws and rules of decent society! We have had more difficulty keeping neighbors who have known and lived with each other peaceablyfor years from fighting, than protecting those same folks from outsiders.
Now that the autumn is here we are going into the waterfowl season, and I know everyone with a bow is going to be looking to supplement their larder, game laws and limits be damned. It is not sport or commerce, it is now survival and quite frankly I can't blame them for wanting to keep food on the table. The harvest in the lowlands has not been affected greatly by the crisis and food from the marsh has not gone scarce for all the plague has done to the interior.
No matter who gets the chance to work the marsh, the "crop" stays fresh until it is picked if you know what I mean. fish just keepgroeing and reproducing same with shellfish and all the other beasties that swim walk or fly.
You know,... I bet if we were to organize some form of controlled hunt, we as Marshmen could help provide some relief to the interior towns. We might even encourage and manage teams of hunters and harvesters from each town to come on a rotating basis and harvest allot of what is not being gleaned normally to supplement their own towns food shortage!"
"There is an abundance of fish and game this year as with fewer people hunting the pressure has been off the game and there is a large crop of salt hay and wild rice out there just waiting for someone to go get it. From what I have heard from the old timers in the warden corp, Marshwood has always turned to the marsh as it's provider in lean times, perhaps someone should remind the fife that it's "mother" still has milk!" If for instance we took any of the refugees that had any hunting or farming experience and allowed them, while waiting for passage to join in, they could help bring in the harvest to feed the many who have nothing and get preference as to boarding."
"The marsh is a relatively untapped resource, and right now is the best time to start harvesting it's benefits, the populace needs the food and the season is about to dump it in our laps, we just need the manpower and by looking at that harbor today I can see that there are allot of hungry and motivated people waiting there and also waiting on the interior plains that could use a redirection of their thoughts and energies."
"Perhaps that is something we could talk to the Baron about? And to Simone! She should get together with you ladies and make a three pronged attack? I mean we have the marsh, the merchants, and the military, all represented in you three women, How is any red blooded Araluen going to resist you three!"
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Jun 30, 2013 15:20:50 GMT -5
You know,... I bet if we were to organize some form of controlled hunt, we as Marshmen could help provide some relief to the interior towns. We might even encourage and manage teams of hunters and harvesters from each town to come on a rotating basis and harvest allot of what is not being gleaned normally to supplement their own towns food shortage!"
"There is an abundance of fish and game this year as with fewer people hunting the pressure has been off the game and there is a large crop of salt hay and wild rice out there just waiting for someone to go get it. From what I have heard from the old timers in the warden corps, Marshwood has always turned to the marsh as it's provider in lean times, perhaps someone should remind the fife that it's "mother" still has milk!" If for instance we took any of the refugees that had any hunting or farming experience and allowed them, while waiting for passage to join in, they could help bring in the harvest to feed the many who have nothing and get preference as to boarding."
"The marsh is a relatively untapped resource, and right now is the best time to start harvesting it's benefits, the populace needs the food and the season is about to dump it in our laps, we just need the manpower and by looking at that harbor today I can see that there are allot of hungry and motivated people waiting there and also waiting on the interior plains that could use a redirection of their thoughts and energies."
“That’s a good idea, Gier,” Katrina looked at him with renewed respect. He had obviously given the problems some serious thought. “It might cut down on the crime too.” Katrina stared thoughtfully into the fire for a moment. “You know, that might work for the policing of the harbor too. We could form a brute squad or something. If I could get the Baron to part with some funding, or come up with another way to pay them, we could hire those people down there on the waterfront to help keep things under control.”
"Perhaps that is something we could talk to the Baron about? And to Simone! She should get together with you ladies and make a three pronged attack? I mean we have the marsh, the merchants, and the military, all represented in you three women, How is any red blooded Araluen going to resist you three!"
Fin smiled at both of them, “Vwell I don’t know about dat, but it sound like vwe haf a plan! I vwill go see da merchant guildt taday.”
“…and I will give it one more go with the Baron,” Katrina said, downing the last of her coffee. “If he doesn’t want to chip in the funds, I know some key people in high places that owe me and my father some favors.” She started for her room to freshen up intending to go straight back up to the castle now and have a word with the Baron directly. “You are going to go speak with the marshwarden about hunting teams?” She asked Gier. “I will try to get some funding for that as well but I can’t promise anything.”
-------
Later that evening Katrina had finally gained audience with the Baron, a task in itself that was monumental. He sat as far from her as he could and covered his nose and mouth with a delicately laced handkerchief held in his gloved hand. His bodyguard stood a few feet away but no others were in the room.
“Why would I want to give away my money? Can’t you see it is going to take every ounce of gold to rebuild this fief after this sickness is gone?” The Baron asked Katrina after she explained Gier’s suggestion.
Katrina studied him for a moment to get a feel for what would appeal to the fearful man. A few explanations popped into her head. “You are absolutely right,” she agreed and leaned back in the hard wood straight backed chair, watching the Baron’s face alter from surprise to suspicion.
“It is going to take a great deal of money to recover from this plague – if things keep going like they are,” Katrina held up her hand and started ticking off points on her fingers. “You have too many people flooding the fief, they are spreading the disease, they are eating what little food the fief has left, they are fighting, killing, and stealing as things become scarcer,” She summed up the current situation. “Your knights and soldiers are dead and those who are left are spread too thin and exhausted. Same for your marshwardens and you have too many people sitting around idly looking for something to do and trying to keep food in their bellies.”
The Baron nodded at each point, “Yes, yes, I know all that. Now tell me why I should pay out money to a bunch of ungrateful immigrants who are destroying my fief,” he spitted angrily.
“To save your fief and save you a great deal of money in the long run,” Katrina answered calmly. At his blank look she elaborated, “Pay a little bit now to men to help keep the peace. It gives them something to do and a sense of purpose. It provides income so they can buy food and don’t have to steal or kill to get it and in the long run there will be less damage done to the businesses and residents of Marshwood.”
“There is still the issue of not having enough food, even if they had the money to buy it.” The Baron said testily, wagging his finger around, “I have tried to get food imported from the south and no one wants to bring it here. Everyone is afraid of dying.”
Katrina wanted to smile at him as if he was a child, but she knew better than to antagonize him. She kept a concerned look on her face, “Well, that brings us to the second part of young Warden Gier’s plan.” She then explained that they could also hire some of those people to bring in the harvest that was planted in the spring and more people to harvest the wildlife found in the marshes. “The food is there, according to Gier. He reminded me that in times of trouble in the past, Marshwood has always looked to the marsh to provide for it.”
The Baron sat back and stared at her for a long moment pondering her words. “That is true, he said at last, “we have always looked to the marsh… But we are talking about a lot of money here to hire that many people and for what wages?”
“I suspect we could probably get away with paying just a little bit, especially if we also offered a percentage of the food harvested,” Suggested Katrina. “They wouldn’t need a great deal if we can get the merchants to lower their prices back to normal levels.”
The Baron quickly looked up at her, suspicion once more in his eyes. “And I suppose you have a plan for that as well?”
Katrina scrunched her lips together, “Well…uh… not a terrific one, but yes and I was hoping to get your backing for that as well.” He motioned for her to continue. “You know of Lady Fin, the blacksmith from Skandia that has a wagon in the Square?”
“Ah, yes, I know of the woman. She does some very good work and seems to be nice – for a Skandian,” the Baron nodded, “What of her?”
“Well, she is going to seek out the head of the merchant guild and request they force the merchants to lower their prices. There’s not a lot of incentive for them to do so because they are making a fortune right now on those wealthy nobles that can afford their prices.” Katrina said grimly. “However, they are also making a lot of people out there angry and sooner or later that is going to ignite into a riot against the merchants. You’re going to have a little war on your hands if nothing is done to stop it.”
The Baron stood up and walked around his throne. “So you propose that I demand the merchants lower their prices?”
“I doubt that would have much affect,” Katrina shook her head, “No disrespect intended, Sire, but I just don’t think the guild would comply. What gets them is a hit to their money belts.”
The Baron raised an eyebrow and then slowly a smile spread across his face, “You are a shrewd young woman, Sir Lady Knight…brilliant idea…hit them in their pocketbooks.”
“Exactly,” Katrina smiled back. “Say levy a 45% tax on any goods sold over normal market value and if a merchant doesn’t pay the tax, throw his butt in the fields to help bring in the food for a few weeks.” She could see she almost had him swayed but the issue of the pay was probably still nagging at him. “I have some friends that owe my father some favors. I shall go to the noble families and attempt to get them to pitch in some funding for the brute squad as well. I am sure you probably have some markers you could call in as well.”
The Baron was chuckling now. “I like that idea, heh heh heh. Yeah, I like it a lot,” he grinned. “I have been plagued by that guildmaster with no recourse for far too long.” He sat back down in his chair. “Yes, I could levy a tax as well on the wealthy…Very well, I will do as you suggest. Come back here tomorrow morning and sit down with my clerks, iron out all the details.” He rubbed his hands together, “I will have the decrees drawn up and distributed. I am putting you in charge of the waterfront security. Hire what men you want and get that place in order.”
Katrina looked alarmed for the first time in the meeting, “But Sire, I cannot! I have obligations to the Baron of Norgate and must return shortly,” she protested.
“Norgate owes Marshwood for taking in all these people who brought the plague to us,” The Baron slammed his fist on the arm of his throne. “You will stay here and do as I say until I release you or the King says otherwise. Norgate be damned!”
Katrina’s shoulders drooped and she bowed her head in acquiesce. “Very well, Your Excellency. I am a Knight of Araluen first and foremost and am oathbound to do my best for the Kingdom. I shall attempt to get a message back to Norgate and inform them of the status here.” She bowed and exited the chambers as soon as the Baron dismissed her.
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Mar 12, 2015 21:17:35 GMT -5
Fin's talk with the merchant guild hadn't gone nearly as well as Katrina's visit to the Baron. Fin came back grumbling about the guild being nothing more than organized petty thieves.
"Dey nearly laughed me outta da place," Fin explained to Katrina, "Ven I suggested dey lower deir prices." She plopped down on her couch and took a drink of coffee. "I did make some progress ven I pointed out how close ta a riot da people are gettin', dough."
Fin chuckled, in spite of her ire at the guildmaster. "I let a couple of dem know dat dier shoppes vere prime targets if a riot breaks out and at least dose merchants present vere tinking about vhat I saidt. Dey didn't like da sound of deir shop n goods goin up in smoke andt flames, vwich is vwat vwill happen if da people start riottin'." She knew the ones closest to the waterfront would be the first ones to go and of those, the one's with the highest prices would be first among the first. People were frustrated and talk was cheap so grumbling was running rampant all over the town. "I give it vwon more vweek and den someding is goingta happen dat vwill ignite da crowd and all hell vwill break loose."
Fin worried about her own wagon at the square. "I tink dat startin tomorrow, I vwill bring my vwagon back here each night. It should be safer dan leavin it down at da square." She didn't want her wagon to get burned up if the people did start rioting, and after today, she didn't want to risk some angry merchant from sabotaging it, either. "In fact, I tink I vwill go andt fetch it now for dis evening."
She stood up, downed the last of the contents of her mug and strode out of the ranger cabin to the barn to get her team of 4 huge black and white gypsy vanner horses.
|
|