A knights' Return...

[Repsol]

He looked eagerly around the stalls and streets, he was aware of his men moving to encircle the crowds, people where being slowly forced together without noticing it too much, the men squeezed slowly and gently with their mounts until the wielding women with their cod pieces held tightly by the tails began to wane the men arguing amongst themselves where being drawn together until their noses where almost touching and there arms where being forced down by their sides, he forced himself through the narrowing gaps to find his mount still munching on cabbages lifting the reigns he climbed up as the coolness of the ale drenched pants squelched against his skin.
He moved his mount to join his men after a short time the crowd had been silenced somewhat as the men on horseback held their place, as people where calmed they would be allowed to leave for their homes, slowly the crowd dispersed leaving total carnage and mess all around the village stalls and streets, the men aside Repsol began to twitch their nostrils at the combined aroma of fresh fish and ale, the Man at Arms turned to look upon the unsightly Lord and placed a hand over his mouth pinching his nostrils shut with a finger and thumb, Repsol looked upon his Friend and shook his head.

Nea one utterance of any word Friend nae a word

He gave the order for the men to move for the castle, they kept their distance well behind and upwind of the Lord, only the Man at Arms would ride close to him though not within four horse lengths, as his friend sought comfort from the ranks he was met with the riders fanning their noses with wide grins, the Lord turned to him and mentioned the finding of the one who is responsible for this atrocious behavior, and their punishment would be one of being submerged in a barrel of fish heads, though he felt this would not take away the pain of such embarrassment, he shall need to scrub for days, unless he could find a willing maiden to aid him, though this he doubted would never come to pass.

[Vivienne]

The utter amount of chaos around her was hard to be believed…even harder to be believed was that she had started it all. She swallowed back the lump of regret that had formed in her throat and ducked her head, determined to find a way out of this crowd without being seen.

Her keen eyes spotted her own guards up ahead, obvious having given up on finding the supposed pic pocket. She only needed to make it past them, surely they would not notice. But a sudden blow from behind had her flying forward and there was naught she could do to prevent her heaving landing on the hard ground. Her cap was knocked off her head and her long tumble of dark tresses spilled out around her. A shout sounded as her hand reached out to snatch up her cap and as she simultaneously pushed herself to standing and crammed the cap back on her head her eyes caught her guards pushing their way through the crowd toward her. She was caught!

But she would not give up with out a damn good fight! Be damned going back to the life that had been forced upon her, she would be a prisoner no more. They could dress her up in fancy gowns, adorn her body with jewels but in the end she was just like the caged bird that had been presented to her some months back.

Twirling about she raced the other way, her slim petite body better able to wind its way through the now dispersing crowd. Unfortunately for her, the royal guards had done well in gaining control of the crowd, and the lack of chaos made her easier to spot. But now her rouse was up and she had to think of an alternate plan.

Ducking behind carts and overturned barrels she managed to pick her way out of the marketplace. But the thinning crowd would not do much to hide her now. Up ahead her eyes spotted the royal guard and an idea struck, and thought it might be a mad one it would seem to be the best possible plan.

As she ran towards the royal guard she pushed her hair back up into the cap, pulling the brim down low to hide as much as her feminine features as she could. Closer now she sucked in a breath for courage, sending up a silent prayer that this plan went better than the first.

“M’lords…m’lords! Sirs!” Coming up to the group on horseback she raced to the front of them then knelt facing them, her head bent low. “M’lords, twas I!!! I confess! I caused the chaos. Ye must take me now…to the dungeons I diverse no less!”

And get me there swiftly, she silently added. It was odd to exchange one prison for another but hopefully her sentence on this one, would prove to be much shorter than a lifetime.

[SighehelmofKent]

.

[Repsol]

As the lad dropped in front of the patrol the first rider swerved and the lad was at the mercy and skill of the following riders in the two columns for none other than the first rider had seen the lad until the last minute, Repsol looked down and heard the words the lad had screamed to them, he turned to his Man at Arms and indicated to the boy, without any thought he half turned in his saddle and pointed to two riders, then to the lad, two of the young riders slowed and allowed the remainder of the men to ride around them they closed ranks and leaned down and reached out their hands gripping onto their saddles with their reign hands, they both grabed the lads arms and lifted him as he rose one rider pulled and the other closing his mount aside the other pushed the lad to a seated position behind the other rider, this move was perfected as the need to rescue dismounted riders in battle.
The lad was held by the rider who he now sat behind by the riders arm hooked behind his lower back, the two riders rejoind the rear of the column as it rode to the castle again at speed, Repsol did not give much to the thought of the lad as he really needed to drop his clothes and bathe, His Man at Arms would escort the lad to the dungeons to face the dungeon master, he wondered for a moment what sort of lad would want to meet the dungeon master, he shook the thought clear of his mind and moved his mount forward....

[Dream Loxley]

((I had enjoyed Sigh's post......and apologise for my delayed reply here *S*))

"Now m'Lady, shall we continue our journey towards the castle? Or do you wish to take up arms, by way of a large fish, and join in the fray?"

Of course, his words brought about a chuckle and she smiled warmly at him, shaking her head. "Ohhhh nae Sire......methinks the best way of using a large fish be to scale such and cook it over an open fire. I can nae think what has occurred within the village but........" She looked one last time towards the buildings, seeing the young lad disappear within them. Horses seemed to be moving forward from all directions and she could hear Repsol's voice from somewhere in the chaos. "Tis seeming that Sir Repsol has all under control, and I doubt my skills with a sword should be readily accepted lest the men be in need of a haircut!" She laughed softly then, and yet still wondered of the lad and why he would have been running so hard.

For now she placed such thoughts behind her as she turned to look forward once more, the Castle beckoned and she could almost taste the hot mulled wine and fresh baked pastries that would await her.

"Mayhaps ye would honour me by taking some tea or wine when we get back M'Lord Thanatos......such would please me greatly and of course be yer reward fer the carrying of such a precious load as ye do." Looking to the basket that seemed rather out of place being carried by such a gallant Knight.

As they began to walk, she tried to keep in step although his stride matched more of her beloved's than her own, she managed to keep up and spoke more of the Queen and the future.

"I have grave doubts fer the King Sire.......but I shall nae ever speak such to Edfeil, she has so much to carry now and we are few to support her. Time has changed much, and yet so many traditions remain......mayhaps....aye....." She stopped a moment to look at him, also taking the time to catch her breath as they had begun to walk up the slight incline towards the Castle Gates by now. "Ye know......every year now.....a tree has appeared within the Hall......such to decorate and sing around......dancing even...and roasted chestnuts. I wonder......could ye....would ye be able to arrange such in secret.....'twould be so special for Edfeil.......for us all to share in this tradition. I am sure Repsol shall be only too pleased to aid ye in this most important task."

He smile was even warmer as she imagined the tree in all its glory, the hearth ablaze with the yule log and celebrations bringing the whole Castle to life. Her eyes almost pleaded with him, and yet she knew his answer before he even gave it.

[Thanatos Gray]

*Chuckling once more at the vision in his minds' eye of "LadyDream, Swashbuckler!"and smiled warmly at her response to his query, and replied..."Aye m'Lady, I admit that your vision of "Fish-buckling" is more pleasing to the palate than swinging such around and knocking heads!...*here he bowed his head once to her* "It would be my pleasure to take some wine with thee, as it has been far too long since I have relaxed within those walls and who could turn down an offer from such a fair Lady such as yourself?....*A frown took the place of his smile when the talk came to the King's safety, as he looked again towards Lady Dream* If His Lord has been gone without word for as long as this, then I too fear greatly for the King....Too much passage of time such as this, does not bode well in my experience! But, His Majesty has managed to come out of dangers far greater than this before, to the wonderful surprise of all, myself included, so I will not totally give up hope until, and if, I see his body laying in state!"

*His smile returned to his features once more as he adjusted both the load in his arms, and his strides as he noted the effort Lady Dream took to match his steps*

"So, onward we go to the castle and some mulled wine! Aye, it does seem that Repsol has matters well in hand!" *laughed softly as he saw how the great Knight gathered his 'damaged' diginity and began leaving the scene of such utter chaos....But his min turned once more to the lad that had started all this and he felt a nagging voice speak of far distant memories, memories that he could not quite put a finger on....Then his mind caught the end of Lady Dream's query and a sparkle crept into his eyes and he whispered his reply to her.*

"Aye Lady Dream, I believe that such 'magic' can be done!" and he winked at her as she enjoined him to this 'secret mission' for the Queen*

[Dream Loxley]

With your permission Sir T, I should like to begin a new thread whereby we are in the Hall and all can gather to get Christmassy in character.......and of course hopefully the tree will have arrived by then *VBS* Please do post if you are able, I hope to join in soon. Many thanks.

Of course Repsol and our new 'lad' can continue here or begin another new thread within the dungeons........please do as you feel happy with *S* I just wanted a chance for any who wished to join in the celebrations.

[Vivienne]

((well I am in the dungeons, no hall or me so shall make a post here…lol))

A breath of relief left her once she was on the back of one of the guard’s horses, and not just for the fact that the mends hands on her that hauled her up touched her in way she’d never been touched before. Though she could thank her “male” garb for that she supposed.. Her other reason was that with a quick glance behind her saw that her slight body was well covered from view by the other guards riding behind her. Her eyes did notice the lady and knight whom she had bumped into not long ago, and the thought did cross her mind that perhaps she could have beseeched the lady for assistance. But kneeling on the ground in the middle of the market would have drawn too much attention and her guards would of had her for certain.

Now her eyes moved forward and to the formidable keep up ahead. Hopefully the dungeons would not be too horrible. Her crime was….well…slight if compared to murder and the like. Plus the Yuletide was quickly approaching and she counted on the fact that a lot of prisoners were given pardons on such a day.

But then her eyes looked to the “head” of the guards. Aye she would swear she could smell him from here. Obviously not a good time he had in trying to break up all the fighting. He would not be pleased at all. But hopefully once handed over to the dungeon master she would flee from his mind.

So now she sat in a pile of mouldy straw, glad that it was not too very cold and happy that none of the other prisoners had paid her much mind…yet…and hoping for a special Yuletide release. After that however she knew not what she would do.

[Repsol]

He had spent an age in the springs scrubbing bits which where nae meant to be scrubbed too much, he had been saddle sore but this was worse, every step he took would feel like a candle burning between his thighs.
His arm where red raw and his legs the same, as the guard approached him with news of the new inmate to the dungeons he grimaced at the memory, the guard wished him to visit with the lad, he expressed the yuletide message to the Lord, unfortunately his spirit of yule was somewhat amiss at this time though a smile did cross his lips at the thought of placing the lad o'er his knee and forget the dungeon, a good spanking neyer did anyone any harm, he offered the guard some advice as to the care of the young one, he shall be moved to a cell alone and away from the other waifs and strays he shall be kept warm and nae bothered by any other than the dungeon master and fed, mayhap three times a day iffen it pleases the dungeoneer, and nae slops for this lad may make a fine Lancer and pay for his sins this way.
The guard turned and made his way hastily to the dungeons, the lord continued across the forecourt to the main entrance.

[Repsol]

He found himself standing in the courtyard as he watched the young guard enter the castle at the dungeon entrance, he had not taken much notice of the lad whom had confessed to the starting of the ruckus in the town, his thoughts began to speed through his mind as he pushed the painful scrubbing to the back of his mind, what would cause a lad to throw himself upon the mercy of the patrol, and why was the lad so desperate to be taken to the dungeons for no one would have expected the patrol to take such action, was it with haste he reacted to the lad? did he want a perpetrator for this inconvenience so much he snatched the first evidence and.......his mind now racing , why was he beginning to feel a hint of guilt after all it was somewhat a minor offense at best, was hardly a black triangle day in the court of her Majesty and he knew the Executioner would not put on his cloak and hood or blunt his axe for such an offense.
These thoughts in his mind he turned and moved to the entrance to the dungeons, he entered the dimly lit passageway and almost immediately he was on the steep narrow staircase which led into to the dank smelly depths of the castle.
After a time and a few stairs he found himself at the bottom the moans and whimpers of the inmates of the first stalls where somewhat muffled by the thick black doors which held them in, he watched as lads fed some of the inmates, what it was he could not say, he looked for one person, the man with the keys, he knew it would not be easy but he would not leave without the lad at his heels.
He walked further into the dungeons a way and could hear the rattling of keys long before he saw the short thick set man who had them attached to his belt, his shirt discolored and open to the waist, thick black hair bursting from his open shirt his stomach hanging over the top of his pants, his hair thinning from the top and thick with sweat, his pants stained and his boots where dull with thick leather souls which made them look huge, in fact the Lord thought if you placed four huge fangs in the mans mouth he would look awfully like a monster of myth.
He gestured to the man and was ignored, clipping the Lords left arm as he passed, a slight grunt escaping his lips as he looked to the furnace to the side of him, muttering orders to some of the lads who worked in this place, Repsol turned to allow his gaze to follow the short fellow as he forced more logs into the huge fire and turned to head back to wards him, this time he would not be ignored.
As the short man approached Repsol dropped his right arm across the mans chest and neck area, the man stopped and looked up and without any change in his manner he demanded to know who dare to stop him from his work, Repsol looked down on the man and spoke to him...

The lad who be sent forth to thee two days passed, bring him forth and with haste for he shall leave in my presence and care.

Yer fink we ave no time tu do us work ere, fetchin an a carryin fur gentry, we ave a stretchin t do an some thumbs t crush an yer wants me t fetchin a lad, waits ye ere an iffen I can find him tha shall ave im, shall tek some time wait thee ere..

The short man pushed past Repsol's arm and went about his business as though the request had been logged in his mind haste was not in this mans nature he was methodical in his duty.
Repsol decided to sit on a chair which had seen better days and was a greasy rickety old thing, he lit his pipe from a torch and crossed his right leg over his left and watched as the lads ran doing duties feeding and giving the few inmates straw to clean their own cells and beating anyone not quick enough, he looked down at his feet as the cell across from him was cleaned balls of fur scrambled across his foot, they where rats escaping the rakes which would have killed them if caught.
Repsol heard the yelling of the Dungeon Master, by his manner the Lord knew he had his suspect and was returning...

[Vivienne]

She had spent the first part of her imprisonment curled up in a corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. There were no doubts in her mind what would happen if she was discovered to not be the boy she appeared to be. But god must surely have been watching over her for she hadn’t needed to worry about the other inmates for long. Soon a burly man had come and nearly dragged her out of the cell by the scruff of her shirt, and she then knew dread like never before. Her mind raced with all sorts of horrific thoughts, that all ended in her being executed for her wrongful deed.

But she was merely shoved into a cell of her own, the straw fresh and none but the rats to bother her. Part of her was relieved but another part of her mind became paranoid with wondering why. And then by the end of the day she had enjoyed not one bucket of slop, but three rather wonderful meals. It had been difficult to enjoy them for they only increased her paranoia. Was she being fatten up for some evil purpose? Perhaps this was one of those keeps wherein they practiced such dark arts as human sacrifice. Her appetite had left her then and she had pushed aside the rest of her meal untouched. She wished whatever was going to happen would just happen….this waiting was driving her mad.

Those words she would regret when the dungeon master suddenly appeared at the entrance to her cell, looking like the very devil himself. With a dirty, beefy hand he motioned for her to come on out but she merely shrank into the wall opposite, the shaking of her head telling him silently nay. With a growl he stepped forward and grabbed a slim ankle and began to haul her out her body scraping along the rough floor. The basic instinct to fight had her kicking up her free foot and jamming it into his groin. He howled out in pain, then began to yell out obscenities that burned her ears and made her cheeks blush as his dragging of her became more earnest. Her fingers grappled to find some sort of purchase, but only found the loose straw that lined the floor of her cell. But at the entrance those finger grasped onto the door and held tight, her body stretching taunt as he continued to pull at her leg. Her own hollering took up with his own but the battle of strength was all too quickly won by that demon-man as her fingers slipped from their hold..

He continued to drag her through the smelly dungeon, the other inmates laughing and calling out various jests as they went by. Her hands now frantically occupied themselves by trying to keep the hat on her hair so as not to have her long dark tresses give her away, (ones she knew she should have shorn but had been too vain) as well as keep her shirt from riding up and revealing the bindings that concealed her breasts. So focused was she on this task that she did not at first see the man to whom she had beseeched to put her into this offensive place. It was not until her journey across the floor had stopped and her foot dropped that she sat up and looked about her, her eyes settling on him now. Dread seeped into her very core now, her throat working as she tried to swallow the lump that had formed there. Her hand came up to pull her cap slightly lower over her face, though her eyes did peek up and study the man, hoping to get a sense of what was to come. It was noted whoever that the rancid smell had been washed from his person, and she hoped that at least would have him in a somewhat more jovial mood then he surely had been. He did look ever so casual as he sat there smoking his pipe and she wonder what, if anything she should say. In the end she thought it best to just remain on the floor, keep her mouth shut and allow him to speak first.

[Repsol]

He sat with his pipe in his mouth waiting patiently as he understood the Dungeon Master was a man of very little speed in both movement and mental agility, he heard the comotion from a way down the corridor, the dust rose around the torches on the walls as the Dungeon Master appeared first closely followed by the lad flat on his back being dragged by his leg.
At five paces the Dungeon Master dumped the lads leg un ceromoniously then he scowled at Repsol and turned back to the narrow dimly lit corridor and dissapeared again into the gloom, as the lad sat upon the dusty ground Repsol had noticed from his short scan of the whispey looking lad in front of him he had small ankles, Repsol leaned forward and took the lads right wrist firmly and turned the lads hand over so his palm was facing upwards, the skin was soft, he looked the lad in the face, not a blemish spot or any sign of stubble though there was a shadow he thought this was due to the poor light, he released the lads hand and took the point of his chin in his hand and turned the lads head first to the right then to the left, his mind was awake his features did not change once, one question remained, what lad tucks hair up into a hat, for he knew lads hair was cut short save from mites and dust bugs and the like, only one who cared for themselves could wear long hair, his mind knew how he would be sure of whom he be dealing.
As a man passed the lad Repsol ordered him to place bindings upon the lads wrists and ankles, tight enough to hold loose enough to walk.
It took a few minutes with very little in the way of a struggle as the man called two to assist him with the lad, as the lad lay upon his belly Repsol bent forward and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck of his shirt and lifted him to his feet, he sent one lad forth to the kitchens for a brush....a very stiff one and soap, a night in this place would make ones skin crawl, so afore the lad would be questioned he shall be cleansed properly and given clean attire, Repsol took the lad by his under developed arm and led him off up the stairs assisting the lad to negotiate the steps without the possibility of him falling, he turned momentarily to the lad and spoke softly...

Ye owe me a scrubbing lad, a pair of good pants, a pair of riding boots a blouson and most sacred of all ye owe me a crimson dublet, that should amount to at least ten years with the Lancers.

He chuckled to himself as the lad turned his head away, he was aware a naive could not ever wish to pay for his belongings, as the two breeched the darkness and stepped out into the light of the afternoon Repsol squinted until his eyes became accustomed to the light he turned and helped the lad walk across the courtyard towards the springs......

[Vivienne]

When that strong hand clamped about her small wrist her breath caught in her throat and held, though that did little to stay the frantic beating of her heart. Her eyes peeked up from underneath the brim of her cap and saw his eyes study the palm of her hand. The man would have to be daft to not notice the delicate softness, and the clear lack of calluses, cuts and scrapes that would normally be found on a poor lad’s hand. Her own eyes looked at her palm as her teeth worried her lower lip. Sensing a shift in his gaze she looked up to see him now trying to study her face. To her horror he even grasped her chin and turned it from side to side as her throat repeatedly tried to swallow down the huge lump that had formed in her throat. The dirt she had smudged on cheeks would hardly pass a close inspection, but time would tell if she could be thankful for the dimness of the dungeon and maybe even the brim of her hat, that would perhaps hide the distinctly feminine features of her face. Her heart felt as if it would burst from her chest it was beating so loud and fast and she wondered if he could hear it for it drowned out all else in her own ears. It would happen soon, the ousting, the declaration that he was on to her and then she would have to come up with an explanation, and one she did not have. The truth would not suffice for whom would believe her? And then she would be doomed for what sort of honourable man would NOT send her back into the bosom of her family.

But that declaration never came, only the order for her to be trussed up. What this meant she had no idea and she could not bring herself to ask for fear of knowing the answer. There was both comfort AND fear in both knowing and not knowing and her mind warred with the choices. All too soon she was unceremoniously hauled up yet again as she heard the orders for a brush. There was no time to wonder at that as she tried desperately to hobble along and not fall, the man was now speaking low into her ear, his voice tinged with something akin to menace.

As he chuckled her eyes widened in shock and she turned her head so as to not let it be seen. Ten years with the Lancers? Her? So her fate was not to be sacrificed in some dark ritual, but she may as well be for he would not last one week with the Lancers. Panic suffused her as her mind whirled, trying to grasp onto something to say, someway to plead her case. Like a fish out of water her lips worked, opening and closing without any sound being brought forth from them. Then the most logical argument came to her and she blurted it out, trying to sound grub and boyish.

“Ye must be daft if ye think I can even lift a lance.”

Then she realized she had called him daft and that dread filled her again as she added VERY quickly and VERY contritely…”M’Lord.”

[Repsol]

He halted their progress in the middle of the courtyard by jolting the lads tethered hands, he looked to the lad for a moment and the comment which was made had been allowed to pass by, he lowerd his left shoulder as he bent to draw his dagger from the top of his left boot, he moved his right hand to the lads waist of his pants and took a handful of material as he knelt in front of him, he took his dagger and ran the blade between the lads ankles and cut the twine binding his feet, he looked up to the lads face and smiled softly

Ye may be fleet of foot lad but run afore thou give me a true answer to this question and I shall be forced to seek thee out, what be thy intentions for throwing ye self upon the mercy of the Queens patrol, and offering such a puzzle as to what punishment I should bestow upon thee, for thou hath caused me great pain as to what to do with ye...

He stood once more and moved the two of them to a seat by the wall in the courtyard, Repsol invited the young lad to sit and offer some form of an answer to his question, Repsol sat and awaited for some response....

[Vivienne]

When her body was suddenly jolted to a stop she still visibly winced and inwardly she chastised herself for allowing her mouth to get ahead of her brain. But her thoughts had been in turmoil and along with the confusion of being in a panic, they had just flown heedlessly from her lips. Her shoulders hunched as her body tensed, awaiting a cuff on the head or worse. As long as her hat did not fly off to reveal her very long hair she might be fine for with her hands tied there would be no preventing that from happening.

But her eyes caught the flash of the dagger that he withdrew from his boot and her knees shook, threatened to buckle and send her crashing to the ground. Was being gutted like a pig the punishment for calling someone daft? His hand came to her belly and her head swam as her vision darkened. Pray god let me faint so I may not have to feel this…

But as her body swayed he knelt before her and she blinked down to watch him cut the tied at her feet. Even more surprising was the smile he bestowed on her when he rose. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her now. But his words belied that idea.

Her eyes moved to the bench and she hesitated, feeling too agitated to be able to sit. But in the end she did rationalizing that to be beside the man would give him less opportunity to study her face. Head bent low, her hands fidgeted with her trousers as she chewed on her bottom lip. A true answer was what was being demanded and she fought for the words to say, for the answer could end up ruining all that she had planned. Her chest rose as she sucked in a deep breath, praying her voice would not betray the dreadfully frightened woman that she was. Tears pricked hr eyes but she must not cry! Keeping her head bent low she spoke, putting effort into each and every word.

“Twas being chased by men and thought causing a ruckus would help me ta get way from them. But there was so much fighting and then ye did such fine and quick work of dispelling it that I could not find m’way out. So then I needed to find another way to escape them and a good place ta hide and thought the dungeons to be the best for that, nay?”

She was sorely tempted to peek up and look at this man’s reaction, but instead she kept her head bent and prayed he would not ask for more for then she would either have to reveal all or lie and even if she wasn’t against lying she was never any good at it anyways.