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Author Topic: Forgiveness - Chapter 5  (Read 6122 times)

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Offline Alkari

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Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« on: November 12, 2011, 06:19:29 pm »
FORGIVENESS

"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."   John 8:32

Previous chapter:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=772.0

Chapter 5

Rhemuth Castle, early afternoon, 1 August 1128

Today would be a good time for someone to invade Rhemuth, I realise with amusement as I make my way through the palace corridors towards the library.   After yesterday’s double wedding, there are sore heads and bleary eyes aplenty.  Servants are slowly cleaning up the Great Hall, with even some of the younger pages looking as though they have indulged rather too freely.  

And next week it will be Kelson’s turn.  

The reaction to that announcement last night nearly lifted the roof.   His choice of Araxie as his bride seems to have met with universal approval, and tomorrow I know that we will all become frantic with preparations for the celebrations.  

But that is for tomorrow.  This afternoon I crave some peace and have slipped away from socialising with Meraude, Sivorn and the others.  I hope Barrett will be in the library, as I have so much to share with him – the dedication of the St Camber Chapel, the weddings yesterday.   Oh, if only he could come to Kelson’s wedding so he could share the joy as I experience it!  I pause at the library door: I haven’t spoken to Kelson about Barrett since the night he and Morgan returned from Beldour.    

Not surprisingly, there’s no-one in the main library, so I push through the veiled doorway.   Barrett is talking to Father Nivard, who scarcely seems to have left here this last week or so.  They welcome me and I am soon seated with them, talking of the last few days and sharing my memories with Barrett.  

Our conversation pauses when a woman calls softly from the library.  “Father Nivard?  John, are you in here?”   Even as I recognise the voice, Richenda steps carefully through the doorway, carrying two books.  A slight tilt of her head is the only sign of surprise at seeing the three of us.  

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” she says pleasantly, dipping in brief curtsey to me, “and you too, Father.”   He’s risen in acknowledgement, and she looks across at Barrett, who has also come slowly to his feet and taken a few careful steps towards us.

“Lord Barrett de Laney, I believe.  This is an unexpected pleasure,” she continues before I can introduce them, touching his outstretched hand in easy acceptance of his blindness.  

“And you must be Duchess Richenda Morgan.”  Barrett bows over her hand, and I sense his interest in our visitor.  “I am delighted to meet you at last.  We’ve been talking about the weddings yesterday, and of course, the most welcome one announced for next week.   What brings you to the library?”

“A rescue mission,” she replies, placing her books on the low table.  “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but poor Father John has spent most of his time cooped up in here this last week or so.  If he stays much longer, he could end up like one of those wild cave dwelling monks from the Connait.”  

John looks startled.  “I’m happy to stay and watch the portal for His Majesty.”
 
“I know.  But His Majesty agrees that you need a break, so you’re relieved of your guard duties for a few hours.  It’s a glorious afternoon, so go and enjoy it.  If you really must do something with books, at least walk down through the gardens to St Hilary’s and pester Bishop Duncan.  Though perhaps not too loudly,”  she smiles.  

“Lady Richenda, that’s very kind of you.   But the portal?”

“John Nivard, I think I’m able to mind a transfer portal and deal with any messages from Beldour.   Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to argue with His Majesty.”   Her chin lifts in amused challenge.

“No indeed.  Nor with you.  Thank you for thinking of me - I’ll enjoy a walk, though I’ll leave Bishop Duncan in peace.  If you’re returning those books, leave them for me to mark off later.”   He bids us a laughing farewell.  

Richenda turns back to us with a slightly rueful expression.  “Your Majesty, Lord Barrett, I really am sorry for interrupting, but Father Nivard is one of those dedicated people who often get overlooked.  His Majesty had forgotten that he’d come back on duty here after last night’s celebrations.   I certainly don’t wish to intrude any further, so I’ll leave you to your discussions.  I’ll work out in the main library and be available for any new arrivals.”  

“Thank you, Lady Richenda, but that won’t be necessary. Indeed, if you’d care to join us, I’m sure we would both enjoy your company for a while,” Barrett answers with a smile.  I’m glad he’s asked her to stay – maybe we can get to know each other a little better.   “What books did you return?  May I ask what you have been reading?”   His sightless eyes wander to the table.

“Actually, I’m only returning one.  The other is a new addition.  I showed it to His Majesty a few days ago.” She chuckles.  “Father Nivard can catalogue it later and pore over it to his heart’s content.  If I’d allowed him to see it, he’d never have gone outside.”

I pick up the books she’s brought.  One is some Bremagni poetry but the other is very new.  

“Vota et Pietates”.  I examine the blue-bound volume, its cover freshly gilded and embossed.  “By Dom Queron Kinevan?”  I’m sure I’ve heard the name, though I can’t place it.

“Perhaps you’ve read his Annales Queroni?” suggests Richenda.  “He was a Healer and former Gabrilite monk who became one of the earliest Servants of St Camber.  He’s said to have died around 930 or so.”

Of course: Barrett has quoted the book in some of our discussions and recommended it to me.

“This book was written by him? I’ve not heard of it.”   Barrett holds out his hands almost pleadingly and I pass him the volume.   He runs his fingers gently over its cover, touching the gilded letters almost reverently, and opening it to the illustrated title page.  “Where did you come by it, Lady Richenda?”

“It’s a compilation, and you haven’t heard of it because I chose the title,” she replies lightly.  

With such an intriguing answer there’s certainly no question of her working outside in the main library.   Barrett and I resume our seats and Richenda settles comfortably in the chair previously occupied by Father Nivard.  

“Dom Queron wrote a small book of prayers during his time at Dolban,” she begins.  “Twelve prayers to saints, one for each month.  There are also six short essays, or perhaps sermons, at the end.

“I don’t know if other copies were ever made, but I have the original – it’s signed and dedicated in the same hand as the volume itself.   It’s addressed to a Thomas Conleavy, who’d apparently helped Queron in some way.  Given that some of the prayers are to Deryni saints, including Saint Camber, Thomas was probably also Deryni.   The only thing I know about him is that one of his descendants married the son of Richard Fitzewan, first Baron of Rheljan.  The book’s been passed down through the Fitzewan family ever since, and my father gave it to me when I married my lord Alaric.  He probably hoped it would eventually find a safe home in the library at Coroth, but I think I’ll have another copy made and return the original to my brother Murdo.”  

“But you said this new book is a compilation?” I venture.

“Yes.  I was researching something else and found another similar volume tucked away in the library.  I asked my husband about it.”    She recounts the story: a Deryni family fleeing persecution in northern Gwynedd and making their way to Corwyn, the father seeking an audience with the then young Duke Alaric.  He’d begged the Duke to accept their few precious Deryni books for the ducal library.  The book Richenda had found had a plain dark brown cover, with no lettering; the frontpiece was damaged and several pages had been torn out.  The man had told the Duke it was “said to have been written by a Deryni priest” but alas, the cover was a replacement and he did not know the author.  

“I recognised several of the prayers and fragments at once,” she explains, “though they were in a different hand.  The other items were not familiar but I wondered if they were also by Queron Kinevan.  So I settled down to study it.”

I’ve always enjoyed reading, though I’ve never considered myself to be a true scholar, and after Brion’s death I retreated to focus on prayers and religious works.  But through my discussions with Barrett and Father Nivard, I have begun to feel something of my old enjoyment.   I listen in fascination as Richenda and Barrett discuss her work – the style and textual comparisons, the similarities in the essays, comparisons to the writing in Annales Queroni.   She’d even discovered that the Servants of St Camber held a short treatise written by Queron.  
 
“Naturally they wouldn’t let it out of their possession,” she tells us, “but Rothana copied it for me, and the style was very useful for comparison.”   Richenda’s face is animated, her eyes sparkling, and I realise that she is both knowledgeable and enthusiastic about her studies.  

“Eventually I showed my teacher, Prince Azim ar-Rafiq, and after studying the works and discussing them with me, he agreed.  I believe you may know him, Lord Barrett?”  

“Yes, I do.  A very clever man.  You are most fortunate to have him as your tutor.”  There is something in that last exchange which escapes me: I have the vague impression that Richenda was gently teasing Barrett, though I have no idea why.  

“That was nearly a year ago, and since then I’ve managed to arrange and copy the material into one volume.”

You copied it?”  My own abilities lie in needlework, but I should hardly be surprised that a scholar like Richenda would also have finer skills in calligraphy than those normally required for the wifely duties of chatelaine and regent.

“Oh yes.  I wasn’t going to part with my original.  Though at my husband’s suggestion, I did ask Bishop Tolliver if old Father Luke could do the title page.  He works in the Bishop’s scriptorium and I’ve seen some of his beautiful work.”

“Did you do the illustrated letters at the start of each section?”  Barrett has been gently turning the pages of the book and fingering the text as we speak.  

“Yes.  Though they are only simple letters - my work bears no comparison to Father Luke’s.”

“But they are finely and delicately done.”  Barrett smiles warmly at her.  “This is a beautiful work, Lady Richenda, and a lovely gift to the library.  I think perhaps Her Majesty might enjoy being its first reader, if she can prise it from Father Nivard’s hands.   I see there is an essay on using our skills wisely.”

“Yes.  Based on our Lord’s parable of the talents – there are some interesting perspectives for both human and Deryni.”   Barrett nods, and she turns back to me.  “Anyway, enough of my own scholarship efforts.  We’ll leave it for John to catalogue.  Jehana, you’d know this book of deVillot’s poetry I was reading.  Do you like his work?   I always enjoyed the music of his verses.”  

“Yes, though it’s a long time since I read them.”  Our discussion turns to poetry and the works of authors from my homeland.   Richenda is easy company; there is no sense of past awkwardness between us and our conversation is relaxed and friendly.   After a while she excuses herself to send for refreshments.  “Scholars sometimes forget to eat, and we could do with something cool on this warm afternoon.”

Barrett decides to go and fetch one of his own books, and after he disappears through the portal, I join Richenda in the main library.

“Good heavens!   Do they really think the two of us need all this?”  I stare in astonishment as servants deliver two trays laden with food, goblets and flasks of cool wine and light ale.  

“I told them we were hungry and that Father Nivard would probably be back to join us.”

“There’s enough here for six people.”  

“Supper for you and Lord Barrett later, perhaps.”  

Supper with Barrett.  I pause, but she is smiling and I hear the echo of Meraude’s words:  ‘She would be your friend too – if only you would let her.'

“I’m glad you’re studying with him.  He’s very skilled and knowledgeable and it’s obvious you enjoy each other’s company.  How long has he been teaching you?”

 I cast my mind back to that night when I had plucked up the courage to return to the library and explore.  “Some weeks now – after Kelson left for Beldour.  Meraude and I visited the library and I realised there was something strange about this wall.”  I shrug.  “I came back later and found the veiled doorway, and Barrett was there when I went through.  He gave me quite a fright.”

“I can imagine.” She regards me thoughtfully.  “Facing up to your fears alone like that was very brave of you.”  

Slowly my finger traces the carvings on the rim of a tray, unable to express what has happened to me.  “Perhaps.  But I had to know.  I found the portal.   And it was not – not what I had expected.”

“Opening ourselves to experience our powers can be very beautiful and inspiring.  And humbling, to know that God has blessed us with such gifts.  It can also be a little frightening, when we realise what we are capable of and understand how easily darkness could lure us into danger.   But I think you are in very safe hands with Barrett as your guide.”

Barrett.  Safe hands holding me, guiding me.  The images this suddenly conjures up are disturbing, and I hope there’s no tell-tale blush to my cheeks.    “Father Nivard has helped.   He has a knack of asking the right questions so Barrett can answer.   I sometimes think he and Barrett plan it that way.”

Silence falls between us.   Beyond the windows with their half-drawn drapes, I fancy I can hear the hum of bees as they hover over the flowers on this somnolent summer afternoon.

“Love can take us by surprise,” Richenda says softly.   “When we least expect it.  And age difference is no bar to feelings.”

“Love?”  I stare at her.  

“Unless I am very much mistaken.  I know this is only one brief meeting, but I sense it is much more than old books and Deryni texts which now bring you and Lord Barrett here together.”

My feelings for Barrett.  Barrett’s feelings for me.  Sharing his garden, sharing our pasts, our follies, our regrets, sharing our knowledge, perhaps now daring to share hopes and dreams for the future ....

“Jehana.  Please forgive me for speaking very frankly, but you seem so happy today.   And I don’t think you’ve been truly happy for a long time.”  She rests her hand gently on mine.

Happiness.  

I think of the years I’ve spent wrestling with myself and what I thought to be God’s will, searching for a peace which I never found, seeking truths that are only now being revealed to me.  

“Happy?  I don’t know.  Maybe you’re right.  I think I’m only just beginning to realise what I’ve been missing.  And what I’ve done - how many people I hurt over the years.  I thought I was trying to cleanse the world of evil, when I was really trying to destroy the gifts He gave to some people.   And even destroy those people themselves.”   I swallow, forcing myself to utter the next words.  “Especially – especially your husband”, I whisper.  “Perhaps God has been punishing me in His own way.”  

Richenda’s hand tightens briefly and I fancy that something flashes in her eyes, though she is too well-shielded for me to get any sense of it.  She says nothing in response to my admission, just gives a slight nod and regards me calmly, even compassionately, before speaking again.

“I didn’t ever have the pleasure of meeting King Brion.  I only know him through his reputation, and of course through Alaric’s words and memories.   But I do know your son Kelson.”  She pauses.  “We cannot undo the past, but sometimes we get another chance and life opens other doors.   I don’t think the Brion I’ve heard about would want you to shut yourself away and deny your feelings.   And the Kelson I know will be delighted if his mother finds happiness again, and becomes the woman who has been hidden for far too long.”

“I haven’t spoken to him about Barrett,” I murmur, surprised to find myself now wanting to talk, to this woman of all people.  “He saw us together the night he returned from Beldour, and he knows that my feelings about the Deryni have - changed.   But we haven’t discussed it since then and I’m not sure he knows I’ve continued to – to see Barrett.  Besides, he’s been so busy with arranging the weddings, and trying to persuade Nigel and Rothana about things, and dealing with Mearan and Torenthi politics.  He’s had more than enough to worry about.”    

“Yes, but he’s seen the change in you and he knows how much you have been working to help him behind the scenes.  That’s made it so much easier for him these last few weeks.  I think he’ll be very glad that his mother has been spending time with someone who’s helped her overcome her fears about the Deryni and learn to appreciate her heritage.  And I’m sure he’ll understand if your feelings are becoming more than just those of a pupil for her teacher.”
 
“You make it sound very simple.  Somehow I don’t think it will be that easy.  I’ve been away for so long.  Are dowager queens allowed to fall in love again?  What if the object of their affection is a minor noble, an elderly blind Deryni scholar?”

Again that slight tilt of her head.   “And why shouldn’t you find intellect and scholarship attractive in a man?  Or value his kindness and companionship as much as rank and title, or physical passion?  Oh I’m sure there’ll be a few mutterings and raised eyebrows, but it will all be quickly forgotten.  Meraude will be delighted once she gets over her initial surprise.  At present, I think she’s ready to confer sainthood on the young and charming Father Nivard for his excellent influence on you,” she smiles, “but she’ll enjoy the truth even more.  And after you speak to Kelson, we can rely on Araxie to assist us.  She has quite a talent for scheming and persuasion.  I’m sure between us all we can arrange one more royal romance this summer!”  

“Arrange a romance?”
I stare at her: how ever did our conversation get to this?  “Richenda, you’re - you’re being ....   Barrett and I - we  - we’ve hardly even spoken of these things ourselves!”   But I’m smiling as I say it, for my heart is suddenly singing at the certainty that we will.   And that Barrett and I have a future together.

“Richelle and Brecon, then Noelie and Rory, Kelson and Araxie, and now you and Barrett – there’ll be rumours about someone putting a love potion in the palace wine!”    We both start to giggle and spend the next few moments merrily suggesting other court romances both likely and impossible.

“I do wish Barrett could attend Kelson’s wedding,” I say at last, somewhat wistfully.  “Just to have him with me at the Cathedral would mean so much.  I don’t think he’d want to come to the feast.”  Richenda nods in tacit appreciation of the gossip that would arise if an unknown man attended as my special guest, even if he hailed from near Bremagne and could be introduced as a long-time acquaintance.  Once again I think of the eagle eyes and sharp tongues at court ...

“I’m sure Kelson will arrange something once you speak to him.  There are other transfer portals and one that would be quite convenient.  Barrett may know of it already.  And Nigel and Alaric are in charge of the practical arrangements for the procession and the attending guests.”

Our eyes meet in a sudden, glorious instant of woman to woman understanding.  I feel lighthearted, almost exhilarated, as we each pick up a tray.  Barrett is just stepping off the portal square as we come through the doorway; I rearrange chairs in the window embrasure while Richenda sets out food and pours the wine, and we are soon deep in discussion once more.

I lose track of time, barely noticing the changing patterns of sun and shadow across the windows.   Our talk ranges over literature and history, politics and philosophy, and soon there are several other books and scrolls spread around us.  How good it is to be able to sit and talk like this, feeling that my mind is being stretched and challenged once more, and that a new world is expanding before me.

“Richenda?  Richenda, are you in here?”

Alaric Morgan’s voice.   His wife looks startled, then smiles rather sheepishly as she realises the time.   “I think I’ve been tracked down,” she murmurs, rising to her feet as Morgan steps through the doorway.

His eyes sweep the room, quickly taking in our little group and letting his gaze rest on Barrett for a few seconds.   “Queen Jehana, Lord Barrett – good afternoon.”  

It’s surprisingly easy for me to greet him as “Duke Alaric” in response and he gives me an easy half-bow before turning to Richenda.  “I wondered if you had been attacked by some ancient magical scroll,” he laughs, taking her hand and kissing it lightly.

“I sent John Nivard for his break, and stayed to talk.”  

“Our apologies if we have kept your wife from other things, Duke Alaric.   We’ve greatly enjoyed her company this afternoon,” says Barrett easily.  “It’s always a pleasure to find someone who enjoys true scholarship.  Her new Queron Kinevan volume is both valuable and beautiful.”

“Indeed it is.  My wife is a woman of many talents.  She’ll be turning them to further use now she is one of the patrons of His Majesty’s new schola.”    

Richenda is surveying her husband’s tunic, which is mud-streaked and slightly damp.   “Mud on a fine afternoon like this?” she inquires, running a finger lightly over one patch.  “Did Kelric fall off in his riding lesson?”

“No.  Afterwards we took him to play with the other children in the gardens.”  He grins.  “They were fighting a battle and he made a flank attack through the lily pond.   Then he crawled along under the hedge.  Said he was going to “bush the emmy” – took us a while to get him out.”

“Oh, no.  Poor Nurse Evie!”  Richenda rolls her eyes while Barrett and I stifle laughter.

“His tactics were sound.  A promising sense of strategy.   He just got a bit dirty.  Brendan found both his shoes.  And Briony didn’t get too wet when she waded in after him.”  

The look Richenda gives him at this masculine understatement speaks volumes.  “Jehana, Lord Barrett, do please excuse us.  I think I have some domestic matters to attend to.   Thank you both for a lovely afternoon, it’s been such a pleasure.”   Laughing, she tucks her arm through her husband’s; he gives a casual bow and bids us good evening, and they vanish through the veil.  


_____________

Next chapter:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=780.msg4959#msg4959
« Last Edit: November 21, 2011, 04:52:10 am by Alkari »

Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #1 on: November 12, 2011, 07:29:10 pm »
Great chapter!  Love does hit when you least expect it.  At least that's what I've heard.
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Offline Evie

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #2 on: November 12, 2011, 07:51:32 pm »
Nicely done!  Glad to see Jehana and Richenda forming a friendship.  And LOL at Kelric "bushing the emmy"! :D
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Offline Rahere

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #3 on: November 12, 2011, 08:00:11 pm »
Seminarians lecture 101: What is vocation and am I vocated? Or stop listening to priests, family and friends and take 1 Sam 3 seriously.

Offline Alkari

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #4 on: November 12, 2011, 08:16:40 pm »
Quote
And LOL at Kelric "bushing the emmy"!
Poor Nurse Evie and several other maids are now dealing with the aftermath, as Briony of course was more than just 'slightly' wet.  Being male, Alaric tends to regard dirt, mud, water and mayhem as normal and essential parts of childhood.  Well, they were certainly a part of his childhood ...   And children and clothes wash, don't they?!  ;)
« Last Edit: November 12, 2011, 08:30:50 pm by Alkari »

Offline Evie

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #5 on: November 12, 2011, 08:20:39 pm »
Quote
And LOL at Kelric "bushing the emmy"!
Poor Nurse Evie and several other maids are now dealing with the aftermath, as Briony of course was more than just 'slightly' wet.  Being male, Alaric tends to regard dirt, mud, water and mayhem as normal and essential parts of childhood.  Well, they were certainly a part of his childhood ...   And children and clothes wash, don't they?!  ;)

All those things were definitely a part of my childhood.  Oh my stars, I must be male and no one ever bothered to tell me!    ;) ;D
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Offline Evie

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #6 on: November 12, 2011, 08:24:49 pm »
Seminarians lecture 101: What is vocation and am I vocated? Or stop listening to priests, family and friends and take 1 Sam 3 seriously.
* Evie scratches head and looks puzzled....

Rahere, did you mean to post this as a comment to Alkari's latest chapter, or as a comment to mine?  Because I can easily see how it would pertain to my story chapter (the scene in which Helena tells Duncan about having considered taking holy vows but realizing after further deliberation that she didn't have a genuine calling in that direction), but I have no idea what you might be alluding to in Alkari's Jehana story.  Or am I just being obtuse?  It's possible...I've had a long day and all that....   ;D
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Offline Alkari

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #7 on: November 12, 2011, 08:35:25 pm »
Quote
Seminarians lecture 101: What is vocation and am I vocated? Or stop listening to priests, family and friends and take 1 Sam 3 seriously.

HUH?  Rahere, I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to in my chapter, because there is certainly nothing about either 'vocation' or the equivalent of God 'calling' Samuel (which is the subject of 1 Samuel 3).   I hardly think that Jehana's previous hatred of things Deryni, or her own soul-searching and self-loathing since Kelson's coronation, could in any way be termed a vocation.


Quote
All those things were definitely a part of my childhood.  Oh my stars, I must be male and no one ever bothered to tell me!
ROFL Evie - yes, they were part of mine too.  I suspect however, that the wet and muddy procession which arrived back at the ducal apartments was not greeted with quite the same nonchalance by Nurse Evie and the other maids ;)   In fact, when one maid lamented the state of Briony's clothes, Alaric told her cheerfully that yes, taking them off would have meant they stayed clean, but he rather preferred his daughter to leave her clothes ON when in public, thank you  :D  

« Last Edit: November 12, 2011, 09:29:01 pm by Alkari »

Offline Shiral

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #8 on: November 12, 2011, 11:47:40 pm »
Quote
And LOL at Kelric "bushing the emmy"!
Poor Nurse Evie and several other maids are now dealing with the aftermath, as Briony of course was more than just 'slightly' wet.  Being male, Alaric tends to regard dirt, mud, water and mayhem as normal and essential parts of childhood.  Well, they were certainly a part of his childhood ...   And children and clothes wash, don't they?!  ;)


Last time I checked, yes. =o) I'm sure Alaric was hard on his clothes as a child! And as for doing the washing of both, why else would he engage a household of servants?

He's probably prouder that Kelric already has such an instinctive grasp of military strategy.  :)

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #9 on: November 13, 2011, 12:00:36 am »
I'm sure Alaric was hard on his clothes as a child! And as for doing the washing of both, why else would he engage a household of servants?

This puts me in mind of that scene in which Vera sneaks a peek out her window at little Alaric and Duncan playing outside and getting quite dirty, with poor Kevin trying to do damage control, and she's highly amused by them and feeling a bit of sympathy for the poor nursemaids and laundress who will need to deal with the aftermath.
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Offline Alkari

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #10 on: November 13, 2011, 12:37:42 am »
Quote
He's probably prouder that Kelric already has such an instinctive grasp of military strategy.
Of course he is - and that he was so determined not to be caught easily and dragged out of his hiding place  :D    Have to get your priorities right you know! 

Offline AnnieUK

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #11 on: November 13, 2011, 05:34:45 am »
"The enemy has dug in under the hedge and we are unable to get him to move, sah!"

"Nonsense, poke him with a stick, he'll soon come out."

"He has entrenched himself beyond the reach of the longest stick, sah, and is maintaining he will eat dirt and worms rather than surrender."

"Oh heavens.  All right then, send to the kitchen for some honey cakes, that will soon flush the little blighter out."



Love little Kelric - he's such a monkey!


Offline Elkhound

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #12 on: November 14, 2011, 08:09:32 am »
Now, I wonder how Alaric would have reacted if Briony had turned out to be the genious at military strategy and Kelric had no inclination or aptitude for it at all?

Offline Alkari

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #13 on: November 14, 2011, 08:26:50 am »
He'd have started an Amazon army in Corwyn of course!   :P    After all, the female of the species and all that ....   :D

Adult Kelric may or may not turn out to have natural military abilities and strategic genius.  At present however he  is only three, and ambusing the enemy is a fun variation on hide and seek which he's learnt from playing with older brother Brendan, now aged eleven.   

« Last Edit: November 14, 2011, 08:35:30 am by Alkari »

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Forgiveness - Chapter 5
« Reply #14 on: November 14, 2011, 08:55:24 am »
Actually, that might be an interesting idea for a story.  Not in Alaric's family, but some minor character (or OC for that matter) dealing with such a child.

 

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