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Post by SighehelmofKent on May 18, 2004 1:37:17 GMT -5
-he sits in the great hall silence around him, the tall man writes. Then folds the parchment, seals it, summons a boy and hands it to him-
You will wait for an answer. Taste the Kent grouse, lad. You will be payed when there.
-he nods as the boy leaves, walks to the windows, follows the image of the boy, untill the distance devoures him as would a hungry wolf. And stands there long after, watching the horizon-
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Your Majesty, My brother, beloved Fox of Kent,
I write to tell you that soon the winds will carry me home to Blair Atholl. My days of self imposed exile have ended and I pray all is well within the lands of our father. My heart still bleeds. I miss him, but know the throne is safe within your hands.
Tell Marianne and Lady Ethaelbred that I long to embrace them and kiss the mother of my heart, and foremost see my grandchild. How I hope to see the old king's eyes within the bairn. It has been too long. Six months away when my arms find none to protect but myself are long dear brother.
If is pleases your majesty, then I would wish to speak to the Stewards, each and every one of them. I have promised them words of explaining, and I will make good on my words. Tell the cook I return within a forthight, and expect some Kent game to feed my stomach.
I have stories to tell brother. Some of a good King, a grouchy King, a king that does not hand out trust like candy to babes, but is careful and just.
Some of a lady warrior, stronger than many of our men, yet fools all by the sheer delicacy of her smiles, the beauty of her eyes. I have, thusfar, refrained from crossing my steel to hers, for fear I might get my royal arse kicked.
Some stories of a silent, strong captain of the guard, the most dedicated I have seen in all my life. His tactical insight and authority is hard to miss, he would do well at Blair.
Some of ladies, one more beautiful then the other, of smiles that warm the heart, and laughter that makes a man want to sit down and just listen for a long time.
And some of the Pebble and the Rock. But I will not put the words here, for they would do the story an injustice, and make the sun look like a mere candlelight.
Know just this, Royal Fox of Kent, the day I said goodbye to Kent and all of you has been rewarded a thousandfold in just one moment.
Tell Blair Atholl the Rock returns, the Kent Mirror is once more complete!
Through honor, bound to God,
Sighehelm of Kent
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Post by Lady Edfeil on May 18, 2004 6:07:31 GMT -5
He would travel home. She knew that. Had known it all along. A guest he was. A guest of their house, and a kind and courteous one at that. She should be grateful for the kindness that he had bestowed upon her. A good man he was, and he deserved to be honoured, the way he had honoured her: with a gift that nae was to be measured in coin.
Within the pouch at her side, a pebble rested upon a ribon. A gift. *she chuckled as she remembered his words* A gift for his champion.
Aye... many a flower she had vanquished for him. And could nae help but be touched when seeing a man of his size reduced to helplesness by a mere posy.
The gift she would give would remind of that. In all he spoke, and said and did, one thing had been clear: the love of his family. His mother... his daughter... his brother... the child not yet born. Her gratitude would be expressed to them, within the work of her own hands.
And so she worked now, near day and night, to finnish what she wished to send upon the roads to mayhap become and remain... a memory.
THe finest linnen had been selected, and the threads she used were those that Sir Joseph had gifted her with. For just one week.. the finnishing of his tunic would have to wait. She would be sewing flowers...
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Post by Lady Alexandreania (Andrea) on May 18, 2004 22:18:52 GMT -5
~He had found her on her way back to the Castle from the north woods. She had remembered her promise to the King and to Lord Dorian to nae go so far in that she could not see the Castle and to keep the Good Cpl Allen with her. But today she had need to be away from people and to work out the situation she now found herself in. She had come to her decision and made her way back when the Milord Sighehelm had caught up to her just as they were coming out of the woods. ~
"Milady ~he had said~ I hae need to speak with you" ~and as they fell into step together he continued on.~ "I shall be leaving for Kent in a few days times, and I hae a favor to ask of ye. " ~Andrea had looked up into his eyes and said~ "I t'would be glad to be of service to ye Milord what be it ye wish of me? " He seemed to become a bit hesitant now that the time hae come to speak the words, he pulled something from his pocket and emptied it into her hand. Ten Perfectly washed white pebbles. ~
"Be ye willing to place one of these pebbles each day I be gone, before the statue of the Madonna in the Chapel?" Andrea nae asked why but told him,~ "'T be such a small thing ye ask Milord. I t'will happlily do so for ye. Do ye hae any prayer ye wished said in the doing? " ~The Tall warrior looked down at her with a soft smile upon his lips and spoke softly.~ "Nae, I will speak the prayer myself." ~ Andrea had placed the pebbles in her purse and by then the walk had ended and they entered the Great Hall and joined the Ladies and Sinold that were assembled there~
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Post by Lady Edfeil on May 19, 2004 6:49:04 GMT -5
*Confused... the previous eve had left her confused. 't had started out pleasantly, with the company of friends within the great hall. Goodman Sinold had taken an interest in her embroidery even, asking her about the linnen she was dotting with flowers.
And when he spoke of 't being a gift for Lord Sighehelm he seemed amused. Pleased even, later on, when she explained 't was to be for the bairn. She nae knew why 't would give the goodman such pleasure, but the pleasure seemed to fade slightly when he learned 't was nae the bairn of Lord Sighehelm and his wife, but that of his daughter, since the lord was a widower.
A great point Sinold had made to point out how easily the man could find a bride anew if he wished. A bride in any village outside of Windstorm.
Bending her head, Edfeil had become quiet. 't was clear what he ment to her: nae to have any hopes for she nae would be what a man sought for. Lady Dream had spoken up then, saying the man might wish to look within Windstorm as well.
't had taken Sinold aback, but quick he had been to start praising the Lady Andrea. Edfeil could nae help but agreeing. THe lady was fair, spirited and of high birth. Any man would wish for her hand of course. If only her father stopped being so stuborn of 't... he could...
She blushed and bend deeper of her needlework. What was wrong with her? 't nae was proper to sit here, speculating about whom wished to wed whom. And especially nae to keep in idle speculation and talk of a GUEST of their Home. She should silence the talk, she should speak up now and...
Whatever she wished to say was too late, for amidst Sinolds words of what the Lord should do, Lord Sighehelm himself entered. And nae pleased he was. Nae pleased at all. His words to Sinold had been soft but encased in steel when he spoke that he and he alone would decide with whom to walk, to talk and whom he would like, and iffen 't nae pleased Sinold... he would meet them on the edge of steel in the sparring of the festival.
Again the challenge seemed to please Sinold, and amidst the Ladies'wonderings what he had against the Lord, he anounced his retirement for the night, leaving them baffled.
With cheeks of crimson and her eyes lowered, she had stood and apologised to Lord Sighehelm, feeling anger emanate from him in dark waves. Yet like the moon can pierce the clouds at night, something different seemed to shine through. Forgoing her apologise, he had asked her to walk with him instead.*
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Post by Dream Loxley on May 19, 2004 11:36:20 GMT -5
*She had sipped the hot tea within the quiet of her chambers...Ellissia was tucked up safe and sound in her bed...her beloved as always expected, but on a short patrol once again. The tea was welcomed and she savoured the peaceful moments before slipping into her bed.....such an evening it had been.....her thoughts were a jumble....nothing made any sense to her.
It had begun as a normal evening....she had greeted all within the Hall and settled down with the quilt she was sewing....idle pleasing chatter followed....comforting as always and yet...the mood seemed to darken within the room.
Sinold was even more arrogant in his mannerism towards Lady Edfeil.....why did he insist on belittling her in that way......she was a Princess after all....even iffn in name only....and indeed many a man would nae be worthy of her. He seemed to enjoy his remarks about Lady Andrea and perhaps the Lord from Kent being well suited in a match. She had wondered iffn Sinold had been drinking more than was healthy for iffn the King had witnessed such.......well.
She finished the tea and slid beneath the sheets....'twas warm.... mayhaps a little too much so and she lay there, still deep in thought and pondering the evenings events.
As they had been speaking of matches and courtships....'twas then that The Lord from Kent had walked in ....accompanied by Lady Andrea, whom seemed very subdued and thoughtful herself.....the atmosphere for that moment was so thick one could have sliced through it. Worse still was to come....as obviously the man had heard Sinold and actually spoke harshly to him....albeit in a calm manner.....but he had made his point...indeed......he had.
She had been totally confused by it all.....and was quite relieved when Sinold left the room to retire.......The Kentish Lord had shown good manners and dismissed it all.....but it was clear to see poor Edfeil was beside herself. She was nae accustomed to such a show of bravado.....and certainly the evening was now tainted.
As sleep battled with her thoughts......she came to wonder finally.....mayhaps Sinold was nae so concerned with matching Lady Andrea.......mayhaps 'twas simply the Lord from Kent that he nae wished to be matched with Edfeil..........
Her dreams took her then to the Orchards......visions of Edfeil and Sighehelm together....the touch of a hand....a gentle smile......then there was Sinold.....hiding behind the trees......his features red with rage...his words forming ..but nae a sound came forth..........innocence prevailed and she continued to dream pleasing dreams.....calming her furrowed brow......everything making sense now...even iffn only in her mind.*
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Post by SighehelmofKent on May 20, 2004 13:39:57 GMT -5
-he looked at the letter in his hand, folded it, placed it among his belongings, then walked to the thick wall of his chambers, the window releasing warmer spring air. He looked out, again regretting the fact that his room faced eastwards, Kent towards the west.
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Beloved Brother, Rock of Kent,
I send you word of your daughter the fair Blue Belle. She is great with child, but the Lady Aethelbred tells me that it will be still 2 moons ere the child be born. Hawcreans hovers around her like a Kent stud, nae knowing where to place his hooves. Your daughter is prone to cry, and shouts at all. Be glad ye are nae here, My brother. She taxes my patience, and I have ordered her to remain within the west wing until the bairn be born.
When the time comes I will send word, or as the Lady Aethelbred says, she will send Hawkcreans. The speed of the wind greatest with him when he rides Ishian. She wishes him away from his wife, for fear he will do himself harm.
Until then you will stay where you will, but Blair Atholl nae yet your destination brother. Hot tempers smoulder, and the fire will flare up. I wish this command was not forced upon me. But to the church, you, the Rock of Kent, the double of the devil, will throw our realm in dire straits. Know that I will not allow any of the clergy or the stewards to break the Mirror of Kent, I will break any who attempts such.
You have peaked our interests in the stories of the Rock and the Pebble-. Write to us brother. We miss you……..I miss you.
Bound to God, Through honor,
Righarde of Kent
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-A fist clenched in helpless frustration, he curses low, walks from his room to the main hall, seeking the windows to the west, gazes out. His light grey eyes tired, sombre, not even the thought of the walk the day before was able to lift his mood.
He had walked beside her, a step behind, shielding her from any that walked up. The steps small, and he adjusted his pace, the tips of his boot touching the heel of the other almost every time. It struck him how small she seemed, yet how much she was the centre of any company within the Great Hall.
They had spoken about his departure, he had explained the existence of the Mirror of Kent; two brothers, born as mirror images. How his father had refused to have one killed, not holding to the custom that in such cases, the last born was a child of devil and should perish by the hand of the church.
He was the eldest, yet he did not wish the throne. The duty weighed on his shoulders like the world itself upon the shoulders of atlas. In his brother, the Fox of Kent, he saw the future of the Lands of his ancestors, and they had talked of it often.
Now, four moons ago, good king David the Silent died. The tall man by the windows of Windstorm never hesitated. He left, explaining only by letter to the Stewards of Kent. His brother would be…and was King. The Fox ruled Kent.
He did not tell the Princess of the shame that rested on his shoulders. It would be his to carry, his shoulders strong enough. He had always believed his future was beyond the hills of Kent, and yet, when the letter arrived, telling him he as no to return to Kent for now, his heart hurt, and anger at fate raged within.
Why did he remain here at Windstorm? He had heard the gossip. Like any castle evil tongues distrusted what they did not know; the Captain of the guard, the ambassador of Windstorm, the Norseman, and even he feared the King. He walked away from the window, sat and looked at the fireplace; dead, filled with charcoal and dust, the temperatures of spring needing little warmth from the fire.
He knew the answer to his question. It was in two eyes, and a smile, the . He would stay, until the day he was allowed to return home. And even then………….he would travel home, only to know he would return to Windstorm. His promise to her………
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Post by SighehelmofKent on May 28, 2004 11:38:09 GMT -5
- He has read the letter again and again, yet this last time he looks up, and for a moment seems forlorn, sad. Then the emotion is lost, he stands, walks up to the window, thick walls shielding the Great hall from the building summer warmth outside. His hands on his back, he stands there. His eyes scanning the western horizon beyond the parapets, as if the Kent plains are close enough to be seen-
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Dearest Sighehelm,
I miss you my son. Though my mind understands the sacrifice made, my heart rebels and curses your absence. Marianne is now confined to her bed, the weight of her child to great to carry. I fear for her Sighehelm. When I look at her I see the face of your much cared for Siobhan, the same mask, the same look in her eyes. I fear history will repeat itself, the Mirror of Kent duplicated once more. God’s punishment to take her from us; I fear we will lose her, and once more the Lord will take a Kent flower.
Your brother informs me that now is still not the time to let your boots wander Kent soil. I will not plead with him, his mind is made up. His task to unite what seem to be separated after your fathers death weighs heavy on his shoulders. We have received word from his majesty King Edward the Elder. That the county of Kent and the Diocese of Rochester trouble him, he will not tolerate further unrest. I plead you Rock of Kent to stay your feet. I know your heart bleeds and you wish to be close to your Blue Belle, but now is not the time.
Righarde informs me of a tale to be told of the Rock and the pebble. We wonder if this pebble would have pleased your late father, as well as please us. When Kent opens her arms, know it opens her arms to all you wish to accompany you to your heart. It is not good for a man to be alone, we wish to see a woman beside you, a good woman, a kind woman, one strong enough to stand in your shadow, and still cast her own to compliment you.
Marianne asks me how you are holding up against your worst of enemies, now that spring has progressed into summer? She prays for your safe return, as do we all.
Stay strong and sound Rock of Kent, beloved of a mother’s heart
Your Mother,
Lady Æthelbred of Charles of Kent
The Lark of Kent
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-there is a smile on his lips, feint, but there. His mother is a shrewd one, not one word has he told of the Pebble and the Rock, and yet she knows his words were of a man and a woman. He misses her, he misses her busy milling, her constant chattering, her fussing and worrying.
He misses the hustle and bustle of Blair Atholl; the stables, kitchens, the fires of the smithy, and yes he even misses the good father, his incessant warnings to not stray from the path of the Lord. His mood is one of angered resignation. He will stay his feet, as his mother pleads and brother orders. But not for long……
He turns, sneezes, and looks around…………eyes searching-
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Post by Sinold Bragasson on May 28, 2004 12:39:52 GMT -5
(OOC: WONDERFUL thread, Sighe. Wonderful story of a strong man!)  |
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Post by SighehelmofKent on May 28, 2004 15:01:57 GMT -5
((OOC: what a very kind thing to say. Thank you, I think sighe is coming around nicely))
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Post by SighehelmofKent on Jun 1, 2004 14:57:36 GMT -5
-he had seen it in the man's eyes, questions leading to distrust, dogma's leading to fear. And when Nicholas scorned his brother, believing him to be the youngest, he interceded without hesistation.
"I am the youngest child, My brother the eldest. Have you ever seen the youngest child succeed to the throne, Nicholas? My brother is King of Kent, the eldest son."
-A lie, a blatant lie, and one he would gladly do penitence for. Righarde could not afford to carry the mark of the devil openly. It would make his position within a unstable Kent even more uncertain. Not many could keep the two apart, and even less knew which was the youngest, which the eldest.
Sighehelm wished his brother to be respected for the great man he was, unhampered by the cruelty of church fantasies. There was no single sentence within the good book that supported the widespread idea that the firstborn of a mirror twin was a gift of God, the second cursed by the devil. Yet however hard his mother, and his father, had tried to waylay fears, The stories had always been there.
And so when his father dies, not more than 5 months ago, he packed what was most valuable to him, some clothes, weapons, and armour and left. A line of action often discussed, but never agreed upon. He was certain his brother would understand the need for his departure. Only this way could Righarde ensure the well being of Kent.
Sighehelm never wished the throne, had never wished the throne, and would never wish the throne. And so he left........
Windstorm for a while seemed the perfect place to rest his feet, yet over the past weeks, he finds it is..........a strange place. Distrusts breeds easily within the walls; the King, the Captain of the Guard, the Ambassador, the Goodman Dane, Ranger Nicholas...and perhaps even the Markgraaf of Eenheid. The guards of Windstorm have been instructed well, his every move watched, he feels as if there is indeed a crime that warrants all this.
His eyes seek her oft, perhaps too oft? Yet is there crime in his appreciation of her mannerisms, her voice, the way she cants her head when strictness is demanded of her and she cannot find the words to express it. Is there a sin in how his heart reacts to her smile, or when she removes an arrangement of flowers the moment he sneezes? Is there an infraction in the way his smile forms when she looks at him, and a slightest blush appears on her cheeks? Is he wrong when he admires the way she carries herself, oft the centre of attention, and all flock around her, fed by her simple grace, her serene beauty, her warm voice.
If there is he will break all of these rules, sin every second he is in her presence, transgress every code of chivalry; for he cannot but rejoice when he hears her footfall, her word, and laughter. If his God demands confession and hours of penitence, he will devoutly pay his debt.
And so will he bow his head for the lie uttered. He would die for his brother, the kindest of both, the most diplomatic, yet not........the calmest.
Sigehelm stands, and yet again, walks to the window in the great hall facing East. He is glad his brother visited. Yet, he worries......... Then, he turns and makes his way to the chapel. -
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Post by Righarde on Jun 1, 2004 18:08:31 GMT -5
*It was the way of things. Too soon he felt the need of Kent weigh on him, too soon did Kent call for its King and yet why should it not. A King, a leader of men belonged to them and no personal affairs could intervene on such things.
Righarde longed for his Sighehelms company as any brother would. They had grown up together in love and honour and this separation hurt them both. The King could feel his brothers pain as distinctly as his own and then when faced with words of the youngest twin being of the Devil; it only brought further pain to their necessary parting.
Too soon he thought...too soon had he to return and bring again, silence to those who would rile the simple folk of the land. His heart wanted to crush these men beneath his foot yet t'was not so wise. No, he would have to bide his time, to risk the disharmony and allow these men to show their hand..and then he would have them!. The law of the land would warrant their deaths and glady he would ease their heathenous souls back to the pits they came!. Righarde hoped then that the Mirror would be as one again. They would hold true to their brotherly love and bring harmony to a land; still grieving for their former King.
He told his brother. He watched as that face he saw every morn in the bowl of washing water turn to sadness. They embraced each other, wished each other well and promised to see each other again. Yet still a smile was born when the news of their sister fell from Righardes lips. He knew it would please Sighehelm and yet the pain of parting twins as close as these was not easy to soothe...
Words were passed between them and ideas were formed from both minds. T'was oft said that as lads these two could work through wonderous riddles and find answers even their teacher would not have thought of before. It seemed at times that two became one in such times, as if their loyalty to each other gave great depth to the strength each bore.
He had asked then why had his brother told Nickolas that he was the younger and Sighehelm smiled. They both knew the answer and both accepted it in the strange way that they did.
Hours passed before Windstorm took her charge and stood waiting for Daisy to come along.
For the last time this night the two brothers looked at each other. For the last time they smiled bravely and waved.
Righarde set his mount into a trot and soon left sight of the fair Windstorm. In his mind he thought fondly of his brother, Lady Edfeil and the beautiful Lark who he was fortunate to hear before leaving. Humming her tune Righarde recalled her blush and smiled to himself...
Oh wonderous and fair Windstorm you took me to your bosum and I am bound to return to you when time allows *
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Post by Lady Edfeil on Jun 2, 2004 7:23:21 GMT -5
*She was quiet the next morn. Last eve she had promised His Majesty to watch over his brother. Was that nae like asking a birch sappling to watch over a mighty oak? She knew how close the brothers were. Iffen she nae had heard it in the stories of Lord Sighehelm before, she would have seen it in the way they spoke to eachother. The way they moved, almost as iffen two were one.
To speak truth 't had been strange for her to see them both standing side by side. And yet, even at distance 't seems she had always seen which one was the King, and which one was Lord Sighehelm.
How hard it must be now, for one to see the other leave, and to know he could nae follow. To know he could nae set foot on the soil that had born his steps since childs age on. She wished there was ought she could do. She had asked even, iffen there nae was a way for the King of Kent to grant such a request, but the dangers of unrest seemed to great.
She nae knew if Lord Sighehelm would remain in Windstorm when his brother left. There had been... suspicion towards him, and an attitude cooler even then goodman Sinold had received. She hoped such would mend. After all, he had had but courteous words for all Lords and Ladies. She nae found any malice within, and the way he treated his horse indicated a gentleness of nature.
In the simple ways of women she sought to comfort him, and therefor found her way to the kitchen. A man always felt better when he was well fed. And the Kentish honeybread might be an unexpected surprise.*
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Post by SighehelmofKent on Jun 2, 2004 13:59:15 GMT -5
He had accompanied Righarde as far as was wise. Then they dismounted, enbraced, both hands locked in a the Kent greeting, a double hand shake, large hand gripping the underarm of the other. A perfect fit, as if stepped from one of the storyteller's tales, The Kent Mirror.
Except this was no tale. The pain reminded him, again he said goodbye.....again he felt the tug, like hooks anchored deep within the tissue of his heart. watched him, his other half, the half that completed him, made him not more then who he was, but just who he was.
He stared, watching the form receeding intill the trees engulfed the King's escort, and he was gone. When he turned, looked at the castle before him, and he could not do it, he could not return. Instead he patted the neck of Petite.-
"We wait, ma Petite.....we wait."
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Post by Lady Edfeil on Jun 3, 2004 7:51:56 GMT -5
She had met his sister last eve. A kindly woman she seemed. Tall. Just as both of her brothers were, though even her six feet seemed small compared to her brother. The travel must have been exhausting and Edfeil sensed a form of… unrest within her. Yet she nae asked. Instead, she tried to give comfort to both brother and sister. Both of them seeming distraught with the decision of King Righarde that would nae allow Sighehelm to return just yet. They missed their home, and the way things used to be. She had heard it in Lady Sanbh’s voice when she spoke.
Edfeil had wanted to comfort, and mayhap the honeybread would have eased things a bit. ‘t had certainly lightened her conversation with Sighehelms sister. Yet the man himself had fallen asleep in the chair afore he could have a taste. Mayhap on the morrow. Or mayhap by then his sister would have councilled him against ‘t. She seemed to have a liking for ‘t, but mayhap she was but polite? Edfeil herself thought ‘t tasted quite well. But then… she nae had had the original to compare.*
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Post by Righarde on Jun 3, 2004 11:59:04 GMT -5
(a private letter, sealed and written from an Inn on route to Kent)
My Lord Sighehelm, my brother and Rock,
I hope you are well and those in Windstorm. I am reliably told that the Lady Marianne is in good form and she looks forward to the day of the birth. I think the phrase blooming is what she spoke of.
Mother has sent word to me that our sister travel has come with some trouble. Has she arrived?. I do hope that she has. I also pray that you will keep a eye out for any strangers about Windstorm. Sadhbh's beau whom I shall not name was seen on the road two days ago close to Kentish borders and though he was sent off with a flea in his ear, I believe that his boldness will bring the man to attempt to retrieve what relationship he bore with Sadhbh. Sighehelm this cannot be!. I cannot urge you any more strongly than I have when we spoke. I believe that the man has designs on taking the reign of Kent from both our hands, indeed proof has been found of that self same fact. It is only for the sparing of our Sisters feelings that I do not tell her and all of this cads underhand nature. Forgive me for burdening ye with this yet you are my brother and my truest friend and there be few I can turn to in times like this.
Should you see the man in Windstorm I would ask that you take Sadhbh home with all due haste. I only pray that her journey to Windstorm has gone much unnoticed.
How are you, how is all in the fair Land of Windstorm. How be Lady Edfeil and Lady Beren? I have many questions to ask ye yet my writing and lack of suffient ink tells me to harbour what querys burn in my heart.
I have to say that my stay with you; though brief; is something that I will look back fondly on. It almost felt like the good old days, yet worry not brother. Those days will return again and with the blessings of the good Lord our God, it will be days that will remain for our lifetime.
And now, the candle is low and I must write swiftly, tell King Agustin, Lady Edfeil, Lady Beren and all that I ask for them and that they are in my prayers this night. When ye see Sadhbh, remind her that she is representing her King, her Family and Kent and that we all love and shall miss her as indeed we love and miss thee Sighehelm.
Till then let God's Light shine on thee
Through honour, bound to God
Righarde
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