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DerynifanK

March 17, 2024, 03:48:44 PM
Happy St Patrick's Day. Enjoy the one day of the year when the whole world is Irish.

A Gryphon by the Tail Chapter 15

Started by Alkari, August 20, 2010, 03:48:30 AM

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Alkari

Previous chapter:  http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=521.msg2441#msg2441

Chapter 15

"I'm sorry too, Richenda."  Kathryn lowered her eyes, hands clasped in her lap.   "I didn't want us to have a fight."

"No, and I felt bad about it," said Richenda softly.  Despite Meraude's insistence that she didn't need to apologise, she'd felt a little guilty about her harshness to Kathryn, and had sought out her childhood friend's chambers soon after breakfast next morning.  She needed to talk to her alone, out of sight and earshot of women like Lyndall Paige.

"I was just worried about you.   I mean  ..."  Kathryn shook her head, trying to find words.  "I don't blame you for coming to court, especially not if the King invited you, and I'm so glad you saw William being knighted.   I'm sorry if you weren't – happy – with Bran.  I've been thinking about what you said.  It must have been hard for you, when he did – what he did."  She looked a little embarrassed.  "I suppose I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to find another husband eventually.  It's just that when I see you with the Duke – I'm frightened for you.  The things people say he's done!"

Richenda nodded.  "I know you're worried, and thank you for being concerned about me.  People say terrible things about what the Duke's supposed to have done, or what people think he's done.   But they can't actually show you anything bad.  All those wild stories about Alaric Morgan killing Brion – everyone knew he was Brion's closest friend, so why would he kill him?  I mean, it's not as though he's next in line or even nearly in line for the throne.  He'd have had to kill Prince Nigel and a whole lot of other people too!

"As for him being in league with Wencit of Torenth – if he'd wanted to let the Torenthi army into Gwynnedd, why wouldn't he just let them march in through Corwyn, and bring his own men along.  He could have done that years ago."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," admitted Kathryn, frowning.

"People get frightened so easily," sighed Richenda.  "If only they stopped to think about things sensibly, they'd realise that many of these stories were probably put about by people who hated the Duke anyway for some reason.  Most of the stuff is just wild rumours and exaggeration."

"But the Church says that being Deryni is evil."

Richenda considered her response. She didn't want to start another argument.   "Yes, that's true – at least for the last hundred years or more," she said carefully.  "But it wasn't always that way, and there were even Deryni saints.  Perhaps now though, some Churchmen are slowly starting to understand that –well, that there are probably good and bad Deryni, just like there are good and bad people."

"But that's – that's ..."  Kathryn shook her head, dubiously.  "People like Archbishop Loris always said –"

"Former Archbishop Loris," corrected Richenda firmly.  "He's not even a Bishop any longer, and he'll spend the rest of his days locked away for what he did, stirring up rebellion against the King.  The Curia is going to elect a new Primate today – and I hope it's someone who really is an example of Christian love and wisdom, not a man who preaches hatred and wants to burn others, simply because they were born with some special powers!"

Kathryn stared at her.  "You really are strange at times, Richenda," she said.  "Though I suppose you always did like to think a lot and ask questions.  I never knew where some of your ideas came from!"    She smiled wistfully.  "I'd almost forgotten how we used to lie in bed at night and talk about things, with all the dreams and funny ideas you had.  So I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if you talk to the Duke of Corwyn – you were always much braver than the rest of us."

Richenda reached out to touch her hand reassuringly.  "Oh, I'm not brave.  I just like to judge people for myself if possible.  Have you ever met him, Kathryn?'

"Met the Duke of Corwyn?"  Kathryn gasped.  "No, of course not!  I saw you talking to him at the hunt, and he danced with you that night, but I wouldn't have dared come near him."

Richenda laughed.  "He's really a nice person," she said.  "He's interesting to talk to, and he can be very amusing at times.  I enjoy his company.  I think you'd like him too. if you'd allow yourself."

"Amusing?   I wouldn't know what to say to him.  I'd be scared to even say hello – I think he'd be terrifying!"

"Well, not to say hello to.  I think he'd be terrifying if he got angry," smiled Richenda.  

"You mean – like with Lady Trimmett?  Whatever did he say to her?"  Kathryn giggled despite her fears.  "One of the people standing nearby said the way he spoke made them shiver just to listen!  Anyway, she's scared to death of him – it's said she sits right at the back of the great hall for meals now, and she even hid behind a pillar when he walked past the other day!"

Richenda remembered Alaric's icy tone with some relish.  "Well, Lady Trimmett was being very rude to me at the time.  The Duke happened to hear what she said, so he told her that I was here at the King's invitation, and made her apologise to me.  He spoke very quietly and politely, and didn't raise his voice at all.  But yes, he was very angry."   She smiled at Kathryn.  "You know, he's probably much more frightening when he's quiet and angry than when he yells!"

"Well, I hope I never find out either way!"  She paused.  "Are you going to come down to the solar with us today?  You didn't come yesterday."  

"No.  I had some things to do in the morning, and then I went down to St Hilary's in the afternoon.  I might come to the solar later, but I was going to the practice yard now.  The children are supposed to be having a riding lesson later this morning, so I thought I'd sneak down to watch Brendan.   Do you want to come?"

"Oh yes, that would be fun," said Kathryn.  She looked at Richenda with a little of her old girlish mischief.  "Perhaps we should also admire the young knights and other gentlemen who might happen to be there?"

"And you a happily married woman with a son!" scolded Richenda in mock horror.

"I can still appreciate the scenery," retorted Kathryn.  The familiar girlhood jest set them both laughing, and they were still smiling as they left the castle in pale winter sunshine and made their way down to the lower ward.   Several riders clattered past them; one waved at them cheerfully before disappearing through the lower gate.  

The practice yard was busy: a score of young men were being put through intricate sword drills, while the sound of clashing swords from the nearby armourer's yard indicated that a more realistic bout was in progress.  Across to one side, a dozen or so younger pages were practising archery, the straw targets set up against the walls.   At the lowest end, several squires were riding patterns and practising at the quintain, to the gravel-voiced instructions of an older man.  And over in the far corner, Richenda spied half a dozen ponies, they and their tiny riders dwarfed by the larger horses.

She and Kathryn found seats nearby on the low balcony.  Judging by the state of their clothes, two of the pupils had already fallen off, but luckily, Brendan wasn't one of them.  He was mud-spattered but had apparently remained in the saddle, and was obviously enjoying the lesson.   The pony was the piebald one that Alaric had borrowed for him several days ago, and Richenda smiled proudly as his efforts brought a "Well done, Coris!" from the instructor.  

"I don't think I'm allowed to cheer," she laughed.  "He doesn't know I'm watching, and he wants to be one of the big boys without his mother fussing."

"He's enjoying himself," said Kathryn.  "That other little boy about his size isn't nearly as confident."

The lesson eventually ended, to Brendan's obvious disappointment, with the instructor escorting ponies and riders back towards the stables.  The two women followed slowly, stopping to watch some younger knights at sword drill.  

"How about these for scenery?" whispered Richenda mischievously, as they found nearby seats.  "That one on the far right looks rather – decorative."

Kathryn sighed appreciatively.  "Mmmm, yes.  Very. You wouldn't mind being rescued by him, would you.  Now - let's see who else is here."

They settled down to watch the session.  There was little warmth in the sun but it was pleasant to sit there nevertheless, clapping with several other spectators at particularly good moves and as Kathryn said, admiring the forms before them.   Amidst stifled laughter and increasingly suggestive comments, they decided on a dark-haired young man as their choice.

"He is definitely attractive," agreed Richenda.  "I think I remember seeing him at Twelfth Night Court – wasn't he one of the ones from Cassan who was knighted?"

"I think you're right.  Yes, you can certainly take him home if you like!"

"Right, I'll add him to my shopping list.  Though perhaps I'd have to speak to the Duke of Cassan first."  

The knight in question was a fine swordsman, and the two women joined in the applause as he twice got through the defences of his opponent.   As an instructor moved in to call a temporary halt, the fighters swapped opponents, and Richenda became aware that Kathryn was studying her.  

"Do you think you'll marry again?  I mean, you're only a few months older than me. Not right now I mean, but some time?"

"Perhaps.  But it's not really a matter for me, is it."  Richenda gave a little shrug.  "His Majesty has said that he wants Brendan to inherit as Earl of Marley, which is more than I could have expected, so I'm not going to be allowed to marry just anyone, am I.  My feelings will certainly be taken into account, but His Majesty and his Council will want to have a say in the matter."

"But what you said the other day – won't Brendan be fostered out somewhere when he's older?"

"Oh yes, but not for a few years I hope.  And I would never want to marry a man who hated Brendan because he was another man's son!"  She shivered.  

"That won't be easy, will it – with the name of Coris?"

"No.  Probably not.  But then, you never know what could happen," Richenda smiled wistfully.  "Come, we'd better be on our way."
 
As they left the spectator area there was a flurry of activity.  People came to attention and stood aside as three men emerged from a small practice yard next to the armourer's pavilion and began to stroll towards the main part of the keep.  Alaric's tall figure with its pale hair was immediately recognisable, and Richenda realised with a start that his companions were Kelson and Father Duncan.  All three were garbed for practice: boots and thick leggings, heavy plain woollen tunics, leather jerkins and mail gauntlets, swords in well-worn scabbards.  Alaric and Duncan carried their towels while Kelson had draped his around his shoulders like a cloak.

A groom led a horse from the nearby smithy and Alaric glanced around at the sound of its hooves as it jogged and snorted.  He caught sight of Richenda, said something to Kelson, and waited for them while the King and Duncan continued towards the upper ward.

"Good morning, my ladies," he said with an easy smile, tossing the towel carelessly over his shoulder and dipping his head politely.  His hair was tousled and damp with sweat.  "Lady Richenda, what brings you to the practice yard?"

"Your Grace."  Richenda dropped a slight curtsy, aware of Kathryn's shocked surprise as she hastily did the same.  "It's a lovely morning, so I came to watch Brendan's riding lesson.  May I present to you my friend, Lady Kathryn Dalby. She and her husband live in Eastmarch, and Kathryn's here with Lady Burchard.  Kathryn, I'd like you to meet His Grace, Alaric Morgan, Duke of Corwyn."

"Your Grace," Kathryn managed.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Kathryn.  I trust you are enjoying court life here in Rhemuth.  Do you have children here too, like Lady Richenda?

"We have a son, Your Grace.  But he - he's only two, so we left him at home with his nurse."  Richenda was relieved that Kathryn was able to speak at all.

Alaric nodded.  "Yes, it would be a long trip for such a small child, especially in mid-winter.  You must miss him though."

"We do, Your Grace.  It's the first time I have left him for more than a few days."  

"Well, I imagine the new Earl will want to be on his way back fairly soon.  Probably by the end of the month, once the Synod has finished and the new bishops' appointments are confirmed.  So it shouldn't be too long before you are home."   He wiped his face with the end of his towel and smiled at Richenda.  "And how was Brendan?"  

"Mud spattered, but enjoying himself," she replied.

"Was he riding the little piebald?"

She nodded, and he continued.  "Good.  Joker's a sensible pony.  Belongs to Nigel - Rory and Payne both learnt on him, and Payne's just moved on to a larger one.  Brendan's tall for his age and quite confident, so he'll learn a lot from Joker."

"So do you watch what all the children ride?"

He laughed. "Not all the children.  Just the odd prince or two, or a future duke or earl - can't have them unable to ride!  I saw Brendan riding a little grey the other day – that one's fine for real beginners, but from what I saw the other afternoon, Brendan can cope with something slightly more energetic.  He'll take the odd tumble, but that won't worry him.   And the winter mud is nice and soft at present!"  

He grinned and glanced down at his mud and sweat-stained tunic.  "Speaking of mud - please forgive my attire, my ladies.  I should take my leave, as I fear I'm not in a suitable state for continued polite conversation, pleasant though it would be.  I will no doubt see you later."  He bowed briefly again and turned to leave, then swung back to them.  "Oh, I forgot.  Lady Richenda, a courier arrived from Marley earlier, so you may find some correspondence delivered for you.

"Thank you.  Perhaps we will both have paperwork for this afternoon."

He chuckled and nodded again, and they watched him stride rapidly across the yard in the direction of the great hall.  Richenda and Kathryn followed more slowly.

"So," said Richenda as they mounted the steps, "you have survived your first meeting with the terrifying Deryni Duke!"  

"Oh, Richenda!"  Kathryn shook her head, "I scarcely knew what to say to him or where to look.  I mean – he was just standing there in an old exercise tunic and all.  Talking about children and – and riding lessons!"  

"Just like a normal man," Richenda smiled. "See – he didn't turn you into a frog, or do anything else magical.  He didn't even take your hand.  I told you not to be frightened of him."    

Kathryn was silent until they reached the upper corridor where their ways would part.  "I suppose – he is very good looking," she said shyly.  "He's got nice eyes.  And when he smiles, he's just ..."  She trailed off, looking at Richenda uncertainly.  "Do you like him – I mean, like him that way?"

Like him? Oh Kathryn, if only you knew the truth! I suppose that will come out soon enough, though.   "Yes, I do like him," she said quietly.  "And I think he's a good man.  I know you're still worried – but let's both agree that he's definitely the most attractive and interesting scenery we've seen all day!"

Kathryn giggled.  They hugged each other briefly before going their separate ways.  As Richenda let herself into her apartments, she reflected that matters had taken a most unexpected turn for the better.


*     *     *

"William!" exclaimed Richenda as she entered her day room.  She embraced her brother happily.  "How long have you been here?"

"Not very long – your maid said you were down watching Brendan, so I thought I'd wait.  Been polishing up on my heraldry."  He pointed to the book from the royal library.

"Oh, I borrowed that to read to Brendan," she said, handing her cloak to Lily and taking a seat near him.  "If he's going to ask about banners and symbols, he might as well learn properly.  It's bedtime reading, along with stories of Sir Knight."

"Sir Knight?"

"The toy papa bought for him – remember?   He's got a name now."

"Ah yes. The black one.  Like our notorious duke."  He winked at her.  

Oh no, I do not want to discuss Alaric with William.  Not yet, anyway.

"What brings you to the palace today?  I haven't seen you since papa and Murdo left, so I thought the Earl must be keeping you busy.   Will you join us for our midday meal, or do have to rush away again?"

"Yes, Burchard's keeping me busy – there's some things to be sorted out on a couple of his manors, and he's planning some reorganisations of the troops along the Eastmarch border with Torenth.  And I have to leave again tomorrow."

Further conversation was halted with the arrival of Joan and Brendan, who was delighted to see his uncle and immediately began to tell him about riding a new pony.  The promise of being allowed to eat with them in the great hall as a special treat convinced him to wash hands and face and change his muddy tunic; he insisted on wearing his wooden sword "like a real knight", and marched happily between Richenda and William as they made their way downstairs.  They joined a group of Burchard's men whom William knew, and with Brendan on his best behaviour the meal passed pleasantly.  The only awkward moment came when Brendan was once more eyeing the heraldic banners.  

"Where's the special gryphon?" he asked suddenly, having patiently compared others to pictures he remembered from the book.  

Richenda Sssh'd him, explaining that they couldn't see it from where they were sitting.  Fortunately, only William heard the question, and the answer seemed to satisfy Brendan.

They returned to her apartments, where she took a quick look at several letters that had come in from Marley, while Brendan had an energetic sword fight with his uncle up and down the corridor before being put to bed for an afternoon nap.  Richenda and William decided to climb to the top of the tower at the southwest corner of the castle's living quarters, from where the view was spectacular - west over the city wall to the river and forests, north to the squat towers of Rivergate and the road to the ferry, with farmlands in the distance.  Immediately below them were the kitchen gardens and fishpond, with parklands sloping down to St Hilary's and the practice area where they'd been that morning.  

"A little different to Rheljan or Marley," said William, studying the lie of the land with interest.

"Very much so," replied Richenda, gazing east to the city of Rhemuth itself.  "And a different style of court to Andelon."

"How long are you planning to stay here?"

"Until the end of the Synod I suppose.  Uncle Thomas suggested I should return with whoever is appointed as the new Bishop of Marbury, which would be sensible.  Depending on who it is, they may stay a few more days in Rhemuth.  There's supposed to be a special Mass at the end anyway, to consecrate any new bishops and confirm changed appointments."    I can hardly say that my return might depend on Alaric!

'Think it will still be Bishop Ifor?   Didn't he vote with Loris at first?"

"Yes, but when things came to a head with the King in Coroth, he decided to go back to his See and remain neutral."

"Saw the writing on the wall probably," William snorted.  "Didn't want to lose his lands and comfortable living.   Don't know that he's likely to be any great friend to the Deryni, even if he does keep his post."

"Well, working with the Deryni is a new experience for nearly all of them," Richenda replied, smiling.  "Bishop Tolliver from Coroth is the only one who's really had anything to do with a known Deryni, and he's had to tread very carefully until now with the likes of Loris and Corrigan in power.   Bishop Arilan only saw the Duke once or twice on the King's Council, and never had much to do with him.   Uncle Thomas seems rather intrigued by us, to be honest – and so far he's quietly impressed with Alaric Morgan and Duncan McLain."  

"Ah - so McLain is definitely Deryni?"

"Yes, but I hardly think our family is going to say anything about that," she said quietly.

"No."  William leant back against the parapet and regarded his sister.  "Have you seen anything more of Morgan?"

"A little.  I've sat beside him at high table a few times.  Brendan and I walked with him the other afternoon and he gave Brendan a short riding lesson when we got to the practice area.  Brendan was thrilled."

"An afternoon walk and a riding lesson for Brendan."  William grinned.  "You may need to be careful, dear sister!"

"I hardly think my virtue is in danger if your sword-wielding nephew is my escort," she replied.  "But Brendan enjoyed himself, and the Duke was pleasant company."   She wondered how much Brendan would talk, and decided to get in first.  "Anyway, Brendan made it rather awkward – he asked about Bran."

"What?  Jesu, Richenda – what happened?  What did the Duke say?"  William looked horrified.  

"I'll show you."  She sent him a glimpse of those moments – Brendan's questions, Alaric's gentle, patient answers, ending with his reassurance that yes, it would be nice for Brendan to pray for his father.  

William shook his head.  "Heavens, that boy.  First it's magic gryphons, then it's Bran."  He looked at Richenda ruefully,   "Well, the Duke handled it nicely, I'll say that for him, but I don't suppose he'll be too keen on that sort of reminder in future.  He'll probably keep his distance from both of you now.  Shame – I rather like him."

Richenda breathed an inwards sigh of relief.  If William was convinced that Alaric wouldn't want anything more to do with her following that awkward encounter, it would neatly avoid any further questions.

"Yes.  He's still very polite though," she said easily.  "Come on, the wind is getting up and it's cold.  Let's go down and sit near the fire."

Brendan had gone back to the schoolroom, and they sat talking until the bells chimed for Vespers.  Neither of them had had a letter from their father or Murdo, but as William said, there was scarcely time for them to have reached Rheljan and sent a message back.  William took his leave reluctantly, saying that he'd be gone for at least five days, and hoped she'd still be here when he returned.  Richenda hugged him fiercely, bade him take care, and made ready for the evening meal.  

_________

Next chapter:
http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=523.0

AnnieUK

;)  So there isn't an extra frog in the castle pond then? :)

Alkari

No.  I counted them all carefully.


Evie

If that isn't OCD, I don't know what is.   ;D
"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!

Evie

And by the way, now that you've got Alaric all nice and sweaty, have you figured out a soap fragrance for him?  The more I read this, the better Elkhound's suggestion of rosemary and lavender is sounding to me....   :D
"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!

Elkhound

#5
Quote from: Alkari on August 16, 2010, 06:57:07 AM
But alas, turning people into frogs is simply not part of KK's magical world.  At all.  OTOH, you could always wander over to the Harry Potter fandom (a frightening journey, LOL) and find yourself in a wand-waving world where people belch slugs, and annoying students are turned into bouncing ferrets ... :D

I agree that Richenda couldn't--and wouldn't even if she could--do it.  But Lady Canina doesn't know that.

And in "Dhugal At Court" didn't Prince Kelson (as he was then) tell one of the boys that if they didn't shape up he'd have General Morgan turn him into a toad?

Quote*contemplates a magical encounter between Archbishop Loris and Fred and George Weasley from HP ... *  

Loris would never know what hit him.


 
[/quote]

Shiral

Re Toads: yes, Kelson did say that. I intended it as a "Kelson being a naughty boy as opposed to a prince" moment.  He was just enjoying scaring Nicholas, even while knowing that what he was threatening was impossible.  I doubt he'd have ever said it in Morgan's presence OR Brion's.

Fred and George Weasley against Edmund Loris? Tee hee!  "Custard Cream, m'lord Archbishop? OOps sorry, now you're a canary! Sorry, we'll be nice now. Have a toffee!"

Melissa
You can have a sound mind in a healthy body--Or you can be a nanonovelist!

Elkhound

Quote from: Shiral on August 20, 2010, 02:37:58 PM
Fred and George Weasley against Edmund Loris? Tee hee!  "Custard Cream, m'lord Archbishop? OOps sorry, now you're a canary! Sorry, we'll be nice now. Have a toffee!"

Melissa

Loris would fall down with a stroke, which would save everyone a great deal of trouble.

Alkari

#8
Yes, that's how I read Kelson's remark in your story, Shiral - just a 'naughty boy' moment rather than something that can really be done via KK's magic.

Loris as a canary would be wonderful.  Ton Tongue Toffee would be great.  "You don't like toffee, Archbishop?  Well, let me offer you one of these special pastilles.   And how about one of our special snackboxes for those boring clerical meetings?"

But I'd really like to see Loris as a bouncing ferret!   ;D  (Where's Barty/Mad Eye when you need him!)

Elkhound

Quote from: Alkari on August 20, 2010, 03:29:54 PM
But I'd really like to see Loris as a bouncing ferret!   ;D  (Where's Barty/Mad Eye when you need him!)

[OT] but from a literary point of view the way JKR constructed this scene was great.  The first time you read it--before you know who "Mad Eye" really is--you see it as a bit of rough justice and an unpleasant character getting his comeuppance.  The second time, when you realize that he's a psychopath, even if you don't like Malfoy very much you feel some sympathy for him.  And then you remember how you felt the first time. . .

There's a similar moment in Dylan Thomas' "Under Milkwood".  Early in the play we hear of Bessie putting flowers on the grave of Gomer Owen, who 'kissed her once by the pigsty when she wasn't looking, but never kissed her again--although she was looking all the time.'  Later on we hear the same line, but by that time we have learned that Bessie was Down syndrome or something similar, and that Owen only kissed her because he was dared to do so (and Bessie never did figure that out).  The first time the audience almost always laughs; the second time, there's a gasp as people realize what they laughed at. [/ot]

Alkari

#10
Quote from: Elkhound on August 20, 2010, 04:03:17 PM
rThe second time, when you realize that he's a psychopath, even if you don't like Malfoy very much you feel some sympathy for him.  

Nope - I never reached that second moment!!   Never liked Malfoy, and only wished he'd been bounced higher  :D

Elkhound


kirienne (RIP)

Another excellent chapter, yay. I quite enjoyed the sight in my minds eye of sweaty, mud-spattered Alaric!!!!! Thank you  ;)