Arcaea/Dining Hall Late 08-09/His Highness a-Hunting
Gerda Analise Mayer Kindon Rebane looked like a dainty, little princess when taken from a distance. Up close the illusion faltered a little, but only because her hands and a few slight lines around her mouth showed her to be past the first bloom of youth. Her hair was a deep, burnished gold and her eyes a warm, moss-green. Her skin was creamy and smooth, the faintest rose in her cheeks, and her lips were ripe and red. She looked like a spun-sugar confection.
Grafan Tildreth Rebane was of medium height with carefully coiffed brown hair and neat, elegant clothes. A weak mouth and signs of dissipation marred his handsome face, and his brown eyes were rimmed in red.
Still, when they stepped off the ship in Lasop, they made a striking couple. Grafan solicitously helping his wife to shore, her smiling her thanks at him. Only Grafan could hear his wife’s low, musical voice—a lady always modulates her tone—as they walked towards the inn where they had been assured that carriages could be hired.
“Grafan, you tumour, you reek of whiskey…and don’t think your pilfering of my funds went unnoticed. I suppose that you gambled them away with your fine sailor friends. You and your low company disgust me,” her voice dripped acid, but the smile on her face never wavered, “You’d better not do anything to embarrass me in front of my future son-in-law.”
“It’ll take as a full day to drive to Remton, milady witch…should I have to sit there…sober…in your oh-so-charming company? I’d rather be locked up with a snake. And I wouldn’t have to seek out funds if you gave me sufficient to entertain myself.”
Gerda handed a purse to the manservant who trailed in their wake, “Go and arrange the carriage, Drutho, and get the luggage loaded. And be quick about it…I’m getting one of my headaches.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
"Your Majesty..."
Jenred looked up from his reverie. He had been drifting in thought, considering all the new information...
"I had given orders not to be disturbed, unless...?"
The servant nodded, and Jenred sat bolt-upright, a feral smile twisting his face.
"Excellent...Inform the stables I will be a-hunting tonight, and get my adventuring gear ready, with the long knives in the special sheathes."
Jenred nearly skipped as he strode along the halls. He'd been looking forward to this for...Ages...And he did so need to kill something.
They would be on the road by evening...And he would be waiting.
Tone-deaf or not, Jenred whistled.
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
The rocking of the carriage was not improving her headache or her mood. Gerda looked over at her snoring husband with distaste. Still, she calculated, with more funds, she could keep him from annoying her once they returned home. He could go his way, and she hers. She smiled to herself. With her daughter settling in permanently on another continent…this could actually work out better than she had planned.
Initially, the news of Edara’s wedding had horrified her…the marriage automatically putting the estates into her daughter’s hands. Upon reflection, however, Gerda thought this might be an improvement. Dougal had everything firmly in control, with just a pittance for her to run the house, and not nearly enough to support herself—and her worthless husband—as she deserved. It should be easy enough to convince Edara to give control to her beloved mother…that girl had never been noted for her brains. The husband should be easy enough to manage…Gerda had never had any problems getting men to do as she wanted…
Yes…this was going to work out just fine.
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred grinned happily as he hopped back onto his horse. He'd spent much of the day on the road, carefully determining which carriage they were in, adjusting a road sign, putting it back to rights after they took the wrong turn, and trotting ahead to make sure he was waiting for them. He was still dressed in his adventuring clothes, although he did have a docket with the royal seal on it, so that he could...
"Ho there, coachman! Are Lady Gerda and Sir Grafan in there? I bear messages from the King himself!"
Jenred sat, waiting on the horse as the coach slowed and stopped, the driver nodding and leaping down to assist the pair out.
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
“What the devil is this?” Grafan roused himself from his drink-aided sleep feeling somewhat woozy and definitely out of sorts, “Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?”
“Shut up, parasite. The coachman says it’s a messenger…from the King. Get out.”
Gerda allowed the coachman to hand her from the carriage and stood looking at the messenger as Grafan clambered out. The man was dusty and his clothing did not appear to be that of a royal messenger…he looked more like…a highwayman. She drew herself up and took a step forward, drawing Grafan with her.
“Who are you? What message do you bear from the King?”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
“What the devil is this?” Grafan roused himself from his drink-aided sleep feeling somewhat woozy and definitely out of sorts, “Why are we stopping in the middle of nowhere?”
“Shut up, parasite. The coachman says it’s a messenger…from the King. Get out.”
Gerda allowed the coachman to hand her from the carriage and stood looking at the messenger as Grafan clambered out. The man was dusty and his clothing did not appear to be that of a royal messenger…he looked more like…a highwayman. She drew herself up and took a step forward, drawing Grafan with her.
“Who are you? What message do you bear from the King?”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred grinned, and studiously ignored the question.
"Coachman! By royal decree, I am requisitioning this vehicle and the horses. In this, you will find the order, along with enough golds to compensate you for the loss. And, to speed you on your way, you may use this horse."
Jenred vaulted off the horse, quickly pulling his saddlebags free after tossing the packet to the driver. The man shook it, and heard the heavy clink of the gold coins inside. After a quick look at his passengers, with Jenred assuring him they would be taken care of, he scrambled on the horse and took off. Both he and Jenred ignored the indignant spluttering and questioning this caused, and soon the coachman disappeared.
Jenred's grin grew...Frightening. It was obvious he was very happy. The fact that he looked more than slightly psychotic made the happiness...disturbing.
"Now that we have that taken care of...It is time for your message."
Jenred opened one of the pouches on his saddlebags and pulled out a circlet, which he sat upon his head, and a document, sealed by the Imperial Magistrate of Arcaea.
"I am Jenred Bedwyr, King of Arcaea, and betrothed of Duchess Edara. As of your last letter from her, you probably knew that I was the Imperial Magistrate of Arcaea for a time. When I held that office, I drafted this notice..."
Jenred cracked the seal and began to read, enumerating all the official language that always cluttered such documents before reaching the meat of the declaration.
"I, Jenred Bedwyr, by the power invested in me as Imperial Magistrate, do hereby sentence Sir Grafan, stepfather to the Duchess Edara of Arcaea, to death. He stands convicted by me of attempted murder, dereliction of duty (parent), and..."
Jenred looked up, teeth bared.
"For the simple reason that I am going to enjoy killing him."
Jenred saw the terrified horror in Grafan's eyes, and was quite satisfied with the effect. He began to prowl towards the pair with all the grace and power of a hunting cat.
"You know, my friend...In certain honourable cultures, men who have failed as completely as you have would throw themselves upon their swords..."
Jenred's face was less than a foot from Grafan's now.
"It appears that you left yours in the carriage. What a pity. Allow me to assist you."
Jenred triggered the spring-loaded sheathe in his right arm, and his hand blurred. When he stopped, the hilt of his blade was pressed against Grafan's stomach. As Grafan looked down, stupefied, and Gerda flinched in horror, they realized this was because the blade was buried inside the man.
"That was for failing to educate Edara as you should." Jenred twisted the blade in Grafan's intestines. "That was for sending her to the losing side of one of the most one-sided wars in history." He triggered the sheathe in his left arm, his other blade appearing in his left hand.
"And this...Is just because I've been so looking forward to killing you."
Jenred flicked his wrist, and Grafan's throat parted in an obscene parody of a smile, head flapping back on his still-intact spine, blood spraying across Jenred and Gerda as Grafan crumpled to the ground.
Jenred turned to Gerda, who was standing, frozen with fear and mouth open as if to scream...But no sound escaped except a small whimpering. Jenred flicked his blades towards her, and she closed her eyes. She then opened them a moment later, confused...And saw that Jenred had found the parts of her gown that were not already smeared with gore, and was proceeding to clean his knives on her dress. After he was satisfied, he placed the knives in belt loops to free his hands.
"Now...You have too options. You have already seen one of them. The other consists of cooperating with me. You will be given an income far larger than that you currently possess, and no further harm will come to you. All you have to do is head to the wedding, agree that you were attacked by monsters that killed Grafan, and that I had been following this band and slew them before realizing who you were. You will be very nice to Edara, with none of your normal jabs at her self-esteem. Once the wedding is over, you will leave the Far East, to estates I have arranged for you, and you will never return. You will write kind, happy letters to Edara at least twice a year. What say you?"
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
He was mad. That much was clear. This also explained how her charmless daughter had managed to win the hand of a King. For a moment…Gerda had been convinced that she was about to meet the same fate as Grafan. Instead…money, estates? And all she had to do was leave this backwater and write nice letters to her brat?
Gerda didn’t speak for a long moment…willing her heart to stop pounding. She didn’t look down at the crumpled, bloody mass that had been her husband. The mad King had done her a favour there…she would never have to look at that drunken sot or his pie-faced daughters again.
She closed her eyes, then lifted her chin and looked into his…
“How much money?”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred smiled.
"Twice the income of Edara's hereditary estates. Do we have a deal?"
Jenred extended a still-bloodsoaked hand.
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Gerda looked down at the gory hand before her and swallowed her distaste. Wishing that she had chosen to wear gloves today, she extended her own smooth, white hand and grasped his.
“Yes…we have a deal. I’ll be just as sweet as pie, and I will leave—gladly—after this…wedding.”
She pulled her hand back as quickly as she could.
"May we proceed now? I'd like to get to where I could...freshen up."
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred bowed mockingly.
"As you wish, milady. If you'll get in, I will drive the rest of the way..."
Jenred tossed his saddlebags into the carriage, and took the absent driver's place.
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Gerda said nothing, but climbed into the carriage without assistance and settled back against the seats. She wiped her bloody hand on one of the last unmarred portions of her gown. Crazy man could have let her known to step back. Her dress was ruined…at least she had the consolation of sufficient funds to purchase better…and no Grafan to share it with.
Oh…things were looking up.
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
As they pulled up to the gates of Remton, Jenred waved the guards over. They recognized the King's eyes, and smiled as they strode forward...At least until they saw the expression on his face, when they began trotting with weapons at the ready.
"Your Majesty?" The captain's voice quavered as he took in the bloodstains.
"My hunt bore some unexpected fruit, it seems. Inform the palace that I and Lady Gerda and I will be arriving and in need of fresh clothing, baths, and similar care, although no healers, thank the Aenil. The pack of monsters I was tracking attacked Lady Gerda and her husband Sir Grafan. I managed to finish them off before they harmed the lady, but not, alas, before they killed Sir Grafan."
The captain nodded, relieved that the King was unharmed, and dispatched a guard to the Palace. Jenred saluted the captain, and hopped down to head into the carriage, letting a guard handle the horses.
"Lady Gerda, I thought you might enjoy a chance to rest, bathe, and perhaps shop before heading to Nocaneb."
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Gerda looked down at herself and arched an ironic brow at Jenred.
“Why yes, Your Majesty, bathing would be most desirable,” she gave him her sweetest smile.
After a beat, Gerda let the smile drop, and tears welled up in her eyes. Her lovely lips trembled ever so slightly.
“And…it would be nice to rest. I’m so distraught about Grafan. His…noble…sacrifice: protecting me from the monsters at cost of his own life cannot be forgotten. I shall miss him so.”
She stopped crying and looked at Jenred blandly, holding out her hand for him to help her alight from the carriage.
“After I’ve mourned for…five minutes or so…then I’m sure that you can find someone to direct me to the best modiste. I do need to replace this gown…plus, I’m not certain the rest of my wardrobe is sufficient for a Royal Wedding. I wouldn’t want to…embarrass my daughter, the Duchess and soon to be Queen.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred nodded with like blandness as they left the carriage.
"Of course. When you have finished bathing, you will find a purse with a month's income in your room, as well as a footman ready to lead you to a selection of the best fashionistas in Remton. I trust that will be satisfactory?"
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
Gerda practically purred.
“Oh yes…that will be most satisfactory. I think this is going to be a lovely arrangement.”
For a crazy man, he was on top of things. Which made sense…crazy men didn’t get to be King unless they were sharp…or ruthless…or both.
“Well, Your Majesty…my bath awaits, I think? I’m certain that I’ll be seeing more of you later…son.”
Lady Edara Kindon Duchess of Nocaneb
Jenred bowed.
"I have some official business to take care of before the wedding, but I'm sure I will see you there if not sooner. Fare thee well."
Sir Jenred Bedwyr King of Arcaea
