Hynes Family/Alois/Peer of the Realm/RP31

"Ser," Captain Liebert said, suddenly standing ram-rod straight and throwing a smart salute as soon as he saw Alois.

Alois returned the salute and dismounted before the crude barracks outside his estate. The twenty Men-At-Arms of his personal guard were already lined up in two neat lines of ten, the steel of their armour and helms polished to a bright shine and reflecting the early morning sun.

"Anything to report, Captain?" He asked, handing the reigns to a waiting groom.

"No, Ser. Nothing at all out of the ordinary, except Steward Bors is waiting for an audience, Milord."

Alois smiled. "Good to see I left everything in capable hands, Captain. Dismiss the men, give them a couple hours of rest. We'll be marching soon."

The Steward was already seated when Alois entered his chambers, plucking grapes from a bowl in his lap.

"It is nice to see an underling make himself so comfortable in his Master's chambers," Alois said icily, pulling off his riding gloves and tucking them into his sword belt.

The Steward rose suddenly, laying the bowl down on Alois' desk and bowing courtesly. "Milord, I knew that if you had been here, you would have extended every courtesy deserved by a loyal vassal such as myself."

"What brings me the pleasure of your company, Steward Bors?" Alois asked, crossing the room to one of the windows looking out onto his estate. He could vaguely see peasants toiling in the fields.

"Small matters, Lord Hynes, small matters. The peasants are a bit-" He paused for a moment, smacking his toothless gums together thoughtfully, "-disturbed by some rumors."

"For the love of the Three, out with it!"

"Funny you should invoke The Three. They are slightly disturbed by the fact that you are an Apostate, as well as perhaps slightly heretical."

Alois' head snapped around, his eyes locking coldly on the fat little man. "I would hardly call myself a Heretic."

"Well, Milord, a heretic hardly would now, would he? But, they are going mostly on the defintions of their priests. So, even if you would not call yourself a herectic, they would." He shrugged. "You could always start hanging priests."

"I'd rather hang Beurocrats, Steward."

"As you wish, Ser, but it is my opinion that you would have a better time without the priests and a harder time without the beurocrats."

"Steward Bors, I have never followed the Triumverate, nor the Church of Ibladesh. I am not an Apostate, as that would entail having left the church, renouncing its teachings, and I am not a herectic, as that would entail me following a Doctrine contrary to the Dogma of the Church."

"So, what you're saying is. . .The peasants should be happy that you're a Pagan, and not a herectic?"

Alois took a deep, soothing breath. "What else, Bors?"

The Steward grimaced, smacking his gums together before answering. "Milord, there is also the little crisis we are having with the Drought. We were short sixty-one bushels of food as of last harvest."

"Yes, I am aware. Take care of it, will you? I have better things to do."

"Like attend tourney and hunt, milord?"

"Precisely, Bors. However, if you feel you are no longer up to the job, say so and I can begin finding a replacement."

The Steward swallowed. "I'll take care of it, Milord."

Alois turned back to the window to hide the huge grin slowly spreading across his face. "You are dismissed, Steward Bors."

"As you wish, Milord."