En Passant

En Passant

Postby Kestrel » Tue Jul 08, 2014 3:12 pm

The steed's hooves chewed up the ground, great clumps of earth thrown out behind the stallion as he moved towards his destination. Too often he was confined in the stables with only a squire for company. He was well-used to battle, to the clang of swords and the shouts of men. Blood in his nostrils, foam on his lips. This inactivity did not suit him, but the run from the stables helped to soothe his savage soul. He jerked to an abrupt halt just outside the area where the King's men toiled. The men moved in the summer heat as they worked to build their garrison. The King's army would have an outpost here. It was an ideal location to send troops at enemies and it was a stark reminder of the Crown's goals to solidify its holdings.

The woman vaulted from her mount as soon as he came to a stop and brushed the dirt from her front. With her boots eating up earth almost as fast as Peropis had, she searched out the Baron overseeing the work. If he was not readily visible, she would question the men on the way. The warhorse began to nibble at the grass, left unattended, and he would aim a feisty kick should anyone else approach him. Warning, not aiming to strike true unless they pushed the issue. The speckled beast had limited friends - his mistress, her men (to some small extent), the squire (to a much larger one), and Catch.

Once the Baron was located, the woman would offer him a fierce grin. "I've spoken with the Governor and we have come to an agreement. I wish to present his terms and insert a few of my own suggestions," she offered - straight to business. She paused to allow her gaze to trace across the area, the work likely taking much of his attention. "When you've a moment to breathe, of course."

She seemed to collect herself for a moment, blinking as if startled. "Ah, and a good morning to you, Baron Surdemer," she added, almost sheepishly.
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Re: En Passant

Postby BDAdmin » Wed Jul 09, 2014 5:43 am

The new-dug earthworks cling like a blister to the outside of Myrkentown's walls. A ditch, an inner rampart topped with a palisade of sharpened stakes; in the centre the deep foundations of something sturdier, more permanent than the regimental encampment south of town; soldiers in their shirtsleeves toil under the supervision of local masons in the construction of a broad circular fortification a half-dozen yards from the sheer and seamless stone of one of the wall's towers.

The Baron himself is found readily enough among the bustle, in conference with junior officers who withdraw discreetly at the Lady Egris' approach. Surdemer himself presents a smart and well-brushed figure, and bows his head in greeting even as the Lady forgets her own manners for a time.

"Good morning." When at last a greeting is offered. "I'd nearly given up hope, Lady Verreaux, of brushing Myrken's dust from my boots before the harvest." He does not return the noblewoman's grin, instead offering a tone of mild reproach.

"That you have reached an understanding is a relief, of course; I was readying to drag the man from office by his heels." A flicker of a smile here, though the movement doesn't quite reach the Baron's eyes. "I fear, however, that during the wait for this news I have lost my hearing to old age; for a moment I imagined that you said you would present the Governor's terms to the Crown. Clearly nonsense, as Governor Burnie is in no position at all to be setting terms." Surdemer's weathered features assume a look of polite bemusement, though his gaze turns towards the many soldiers who toil and dig and cut timber around them.

"Unless infirmity takes my memory also, and I err in recalling that you were tasked with taking the Crown's terms to the Governor rather than the reverse. In any case: what agreement did you reach, Lady Verreaux?"
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Re: En Passant

Postby Kestrel » Sun Jul 13, 2014 11:22 am

The massive warhorse swished his tail at a buzzing fly and parted from his mistress to graze at the edge of the area scored for building. He kept a wary eye upon her, connected to the woman in ways that only soldiers could understand. His great dark gaze followed her past the men and to the waiting Baron.

The Baron's chilled greeting seemed to take the woman aback for just a second and she covered it well enough with a schooled polite smile of her own. She should have known better than to think herself among friends, here or anywhere. She was a crocodile among her kin. Loyalty was a barren commodity. Her stand shifted and hands clasped behind her back. Her chin inclined just so and her gaze hardened perceptively.

"Oh, I would not know the pain of that, Colonel. Myrken dust leaves my boots every eve, as is expected of my station," she remarked, words clipped. Her hand came out to press against his elbow. "But I do so hope that your advanced age is not something that gets back to my Uncle. There are many strapping young men clamoring for the favor you hold, no doubt." Her eyes never faltered from his, but they did soften slightly.

"Even so, I understand the urge to move along. None wish it more than the current Governor. Hence why I have facilitated a peaceful resolution to this impasse lest my Uncle be required to fight his battle on multiple fronts. Even with his insurmountable might, the battle would wage for years with the combined forces of his scorned enemies. Governor Burnie is a nettle that would not soon leave his paw. I assume that you can see the wisdom of such allegiances. Flies and honey and all that."

She paused to allow a moment of silence to pass between them. For them both to understand that neither was to be trifled with. He might have His Majesty's ear and favor, but she was family. To think she would not use that to her advantage was pure folly.

"The Governor is, of course, loyal to The King, but he sees this as noose around his neck. He wishes to enter into a marriage of convenience. Marriage would allow my Uncle to strengthen his hold upon Myrken with the binding of blood. The Governor would need a proper title. Elections would, presumably, be a thing of the past, thereby dissolving the democracy that makes these holdings so difficult to control."

She smiled, then. "But, he has asked for a year's time to court me properly. Most likely in an attempt to be rid of me in some fashion before the time has passed. I might suggest an accord that would not allow for that. That would bind him to his word should harm befall me."

She might trust Glenn Burnie at some point in the future, but that time was not now. Good faith would be hard-won.
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Re: En Passant

Postby BDAdmin » Thu Jul 17, 2014 9:45 am

Her subtle threat recognised; invoking the King by her relation to him, the kinship wielded as a rider wields a crop. A threat worthy of Razasan's lesser courtiers, seeking to overawe their rivals by reeling off the names of more influential relatives. The brief glance he turns to the Lady is quietly disappointed.

"Fortunate, then, that whatever favour I hold with His Majesty is by virtue of twenty-odd years of experience, Lady Verreaux, rather than lissom limbs or dashing charm. I've a while before these vigorous young bucks begin to catch up."

A small wave of his hand dismisses the matter, the threat, before he continues:

"I've given you far more time than your task has warranted, and that only because the war goes well - Meadowford by Midwinter, I am told - and my regiment has yet to be called to the front. Were it up to me this business would have been settled and my men marched into Derry a month since. I remain as a courtesy, Lady, in giving you time to make your arrangements."

As those arrangements are explained, then, the Baron listens carefully, for all that his attention seems mainly for the soldiers and masons labouring nearby. He bides his time, waiting until the proposal is fully explained, and by the time she concludes his gaze has returned to the lady's features with a look of something between disbelief and concern, though the former is quickly masked. His reply is instead level, his tone studiously patient.

"His terms would require that you write to your uncle. And though I do not presume to speak with your uncle's voice, might I hazard a guess at his likely response and save you the ink and sealing-wax? Given that His Majesty has yet to take leave of his senses."

He raises a gloved finger, his elbow moving clear of the young woman's touch in the process.

"First, who is Glenn Burnie to make these demands? What is his lineage? What land does he hold? What allies carry his banner? What armies answer to his command?" A moment for the lady to consider, but no more than a moment before Surdemer continues:

"The answer is that he is no one of import. He is a functionary, with only as much power as his fellow functionaries see fit to grant him. He holds neither land nor title, he can claim no connection to the noble houses of Trae Kelsa worth the mention. Meanwhile the closest Myrken Wood has to a military is a band of farmers and shopkeepers with clubs. Trained and drilled, yes, but not soldiers. Your estimate of how they'd fare against the Crown's forces is excessively generous."

Another finger raised.

"Second: he is insolent. He has scorned and mocked previous representatives of the Crown, and now shows only the most cursory loyalty because he no longer has Burel's coat-skirts to hide behind. That he sees his duty as an onerous burden speaks volumes as to his character. He has no respect for your uncle, the King, nor for the proud history and traditions of the name of Plaudart, nor by extension for you - and yet you would bring this opportunist into your Uncle's house? What esteem does he bring with him? What worth?"

A third finger.

"Third: he is erratic. Perhaps he has a certain charm, a certain devil-may-care recklessness which is exciting enough to turn a young lady's head. But this proposal of his - this betrothal? It is a gamble on his part, and a desperate one at that. He looks to buy himself time, a full year's stay of execution." A lift of brows at that, as if daring her to deny it. "You would do as well to tie your fortune to that of a man who wagers on dice."

A fourth.

"Fourth: what makes the people of Myrken so difficult to control, Lady Verreaux, is that they have suffered under a string of fools, and have found their own way of dealing with intolerable fools. For the Crown to set a titled lord to rule over them only invites them to rebel against that lord and the hand that put him there. They've overthrown Governors before, why not overthrow a lord? If he makes a claim by right of blood they'll just pour that blood into the gutter, and likely yours with it."

His list concluded, his hand drops to fold with the other behind his back, shoulders straightening as he looks towards the town walls as if he might spy out the troublesome Governor through stone and timber and houses and streets.

"In case I was not understood previously, let me restate the Crown's terms more clearly:

"Governor Glenn Burnie is to declare his absolute and unconditional loyalty to the Crown, in public, and denounce the traitor Burel. He is to make available to the Crown's agents a full and factual accounting of Myrken Wood's land holdings and populace. He is to enact a number of reformations to Myrken's government, in which power is divided between landowners and commoners - I can have the specifics brought to your lodgings, since he might want to look them over in detail. He is then to dissolve the Judiciary Council to make way for these changes. The Crown - which is to say I, as His Majesty's envoy - will appoint an interim government to oversee the transition."

A glance to the Kestrel to be sure that she attends, that she has heard properly.

"Kindly convey these terms to Governor Burnie with all haste. Let him understand that any refusal would best be accompanied by his resignation. Any concessions he demands are yours to fulfil, so do not promise more than you can provide. If you marry him, that is your decision; do not expect your family to bless such a union, as it offers little by way of convenience."

The Baron turns to face Lady Egris more fully, offering a respectful bow and a courteous gesture towards her restive mount.

"Don't let me delay you further."
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Re: En Passant

Postby Kestrel » Thu Jul 17, 2014 2:54 pm

Her eyes darkened, pupils swallowing up the pale color of her iris as she scented the beginnings of aggression. The Kestrel was not prone to flight, despite her namesake, so she relished a good fight. Peropis' head snapped upwards as her shoulders pushed back and she become still as the grave. When her hand did not stray towards the blade on her hip, his great head dropped again to his grazing in disappointment. A battle of wills was no concern of his, he decided. "Twenty years, Colonel? My, you certainly have one foot in the grave," she drawled, teasing despite how closely she watched him, how eagerly her eyes ferreted out his weaknesses. Perhaps attempting to disarm him, in some small manner.

His disappointment was noted and disregarded - she was overly familiar with that expression being leveled upon her. The wistful expression upon her features as he mentioned the business ahead of the army perhaps hinted that this matter of politics was the far more tedious task ahead of her. Perhaps she was rethinking her little endeavor in Myrken. It was the most rigid of steel and all involved refused to bend. It was not the complexity that dissuaded her, but she had not expected the obvious animosity that buffeted her in every direction, from one man to the other. She suspected that she had little to do with their shared hostility and that she was ill-served in the middle. In this, she felt a pawn in the grand scheme of things, with responsibilities and expectations leveled upon her shoulders.

His concern was noted, her eyes narrowing marginally with interest. She wondered at that emotion, longed to understand the motivations behind it. "Yes, Myrken has many improvements to be made. My Uncle has left his territories in disorder. He has let the weeds grow wild and free, but now expects them to fall into line. Into neat little rows like tended crops. This place is beaten and broken and he has failed them, whether he wishes to acknowledge that or not. We all have. They cast aspersions on a kingdom that abandoned them to their own fate long ago and a gentle approach is best in this matter, in my humble opinion. If my attempts to work within the narrow constraints afforded by their trepidations has been seen as unsatisfactory by yourself and His Majesty, then perhaps you had best sort it yourself. I'm far too old to be a messenger for two men who have no sense of compromise."

"I know that you do not know me all that well, Colonel, but please do not take me as a love-stuck young woman seeking the favor of some spoiled, half-mad Governor. It is a matter of my own pride that I avert the assumption you seem to have made on my character. I've never needed men to give me happiness and I am not about to start now. This offer was made with self-sacrifice in mind. Frankly, I believe the man would be well-served losing his tongue, if not his head. You speak of charm, but I've not seen anything but the swagger of a fool. Since I do not envision the same of myself, I will make way for the King's most esteemed envoy." And that was honest.

Her tone was polite. The looming futility of attempting peacemaker was abundantly clear to the woman. "I suspect The Governor and his Council will be thorns in your side. The people do not trust any power that seeks to reign in their willful natures. Any attempt at military action on my part will not last. As soon as you and your men take your leave, there will be chaos once more. I've not the manpower, lover of the people, nor a well-armed militia to reign them in. It is an impossible situation that I have come at from numerous angles that this was the one I felt best served both sides."

"My honest opinion is to take this place under military rule and leave enough men to tend to it. Kill Burnie and possibly his Council, since they will not hesitate to plot against you and my Uncle. It would also serve as an example against rebellion. You should serve as envoy and lead them yourself, given that you carry the King's trust above others. That would be most practical." Burn and start anew.

"Do give my love and apologies to my Uncle. Tell him that my men and myself are ready and willing to heed the call of battle, should we be required. If he wishes me here, among these people, do give me leave to attend your command. Until then, I've wasted enough of our time."

Her nod was no less courteous before she turned on her heel and strode towards her waiting warhorse. Feeling a sudden ease of obligation, there was a bounce in her step certainly not there before.
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