Changes: Chapter One: Fiona
Prologue:
It has been almost two years since the end of the Mearan rebellion. Peace has reigned under King Kelson, and the Eleven Kingdoms are again prosperous and the people generally content. Of course there have been intermittent rumblings and threats from far Byzantyun where Imre and Iskander continue to talk of avenging Valerian's death, but there have been no indications that it was more than talk. Kelson and his advisors had certainly learned the dangers of complacency, and they maintain a close watch on the two brothers.
However, the winds of change are stirring. Our characters will find they need to make plans to adapt to the changes in circumstances that are approaching. I hope good friends and fellow writers will feel free to address changes that are beginning to affect your characters and how they will meet them
Fiona: An Ending and a Plot
Fiona MacIntyre brushed her hands down the sides of her gown and glanced around her chamber. She had been engaged for some time in looking through her clothing, sorting garments and deciding what she would keep and which garments she would give away. She suspected that her maid, Alice, already had her eye on a few gowns that she coveted. She was also going through her books and scrolls and other impedimenta in the Schola. She moved over to the window seat and sat down. She sighed. It was hard to believe that her time as a student at King Kelson's Schola was drawing to an end. She remembered how excited she had been when at last she was admitted and had begun her studies of her Deryni powers and how to use them, the realization of a long held dream. Now, just a few weeks past, she had completed her final examinations, passing with flying colors. One big question now remained, what next?
She had hoped that question would already be answered by a betrothal between herself and Sir Washburn Morgan. She cared deeply for him, and she thought he cared for her. But rebuilding the manor house and establishing the healing center had occupied more and more of his time, and they had fewer opportunities to be together. They did correspond, but letters were not the same. Wash talked much more about the changes he was making and the progress of his healing center. There were few words addressing his feelings for her nor had he given any indication that a proposal was in their immediate future. His rare visits to Rhemuth were short and often involved missions he was given by the king or his brother, Duke Kelric. They included little time spent with her. Was he taking her for granted or, even worse, falling out of love with her? She was not sure what to think.
There was a soft knock at the door. Fiona, thinking it was her maid returning to resume assisting her with her sorting, opened the door. She smiled at the young lady who stood there, inviting her into the room. Isla MacArdry had become a close friend during the last year, and Fiona had found her to be sympathetic with a great sense of fun and ready for any adventure. Along with a third friend, Annabelle Hughes, they had become known as the three minxes, often dreaming up mischief that kept things quite lively in the Schola.
Fiona was the ringleader, using her lively imagination to come up with new ideas, like the time students in the class on telekinesis complained that, no matter how hard they tried, they could not move the objects they were supposed to move. Their instructor soon found that a drop of glue had been applied to the objects in question, making it difficult if not impossible to move them. The giggles of the three young ladies revealed the culprits.
Another time, there was supposed to be a demonstration of raising a Ward major, but when the time came the ward cubes could not be found. Fiona led the students on a bit of a scavenger hunt to determine where they might be. When they at last returned to the classroom, the ward cubes were sitting innocently on the table in front of the instructor's chair. The instructor eyed the students. "Where have you been? You are late for the demonstration."
One of the students answered with a respectful bow of his head, "We arrived at the appointed time, my Lord, but the ward cubes were missing. Lady Fiona led us on a hunt through the Schola for them without success. When we returned you were waiting for us and the cubes had mysteriously reappeared. We don't know where they had been or how they were restored."
The instructor, Lord Alex Douglas, was a favorite of the students. He was patient, gave clear explanations of the powers being demonstrated and was always willing to provide some extra help when needed. Now, he studied the group before him with a keen eye. He suspected student involvement in the disappearance and reappearance of the ward cubes. It was just the kind of scheme he might expect from the minxes. He let his eyes rest on Lady Fiona and Lady Isla who were standing at the rear of the room near the door. They were trying to present solemn expressions, but twitching at the corners of their mouths indicated attempts to restrain giggles. He had looked over the class sternly although the corners of his mouth also twitched slightly. Those young ladies certainly made things interesting with their mischief, and they did no real harm. "We will now begin the class. You must pay attention as we are already behind and this is a skill that could easily save your life. All of you must become proficient at it before completing your studies." No more was said about the travels of the ward cubes, the students settled down around the instructor and the demonstration began.
Fiona invited her friend to enter. "Come in. Let's sit over here near the fire. It's quite cold today." The two girls made themselves comfortable on padded seats in front of the fire which was burning merrily.
Isla looked about at the piles of garments. "Are you getting ready to go on a trip?"
Fiona sighed. "Not a trip but probably a move. I have nearly finished my studies here at the Schola and passed my examinations. I have only a few demonstrations to complete and I will graduate. I can no longer remain at the Schola so the question is, where do I go, what do I do next? You know my feelings for Sir Washburn. I had hoped for a betrothal between us by the completion of my studies, but that has not happened. I see so little of him now, and his letters focus on his work but say little of love. I am starting to wonder if he is losing interest, maybe falling out of love with me if he ever was really in love."
"My Uncle Mac and Aunt Olivia are planning to attend Twelfth Night Court, and there have been strong hints that they expect me to return to the manor with them upon my graduation from the Schola. They have been very good to me and I love them both, but I cannot conceive of anything worse than returning to the manor to play the dutiful niece and wait for someone to offer for me."
"What about your guardian? Has Lord Ian said anything about plans for your future after the Schola?" Isla asked.
"No. He has been quite preoccupied with righting things at Isles after the disastrous rule of his stepfather." Fiona lowered her voice so only Isla would hear her. "He also has been working to build a relationship with Sidana which has been very difficult." She is not at all an easy person to deal with, and I am not sure she has completely accepted that she will never be queen of Meara. He has also had to spend time becoming acquainted with parts of his new Earldom. I am not even sure he realizes that my time at the Schola is coming to an end. He will attend Twelfth Night but his visit will be very brief, and I am sure he will be preoccupied with the king. I am not sure there will be any opportunity to talk with him. My future is much more uncertain than I expected and I need to give it some thought. I feel that I need to take control of my own future, but how do I manage that?"
Isla thought to reassure her friend. "I don't think that Wash is falling out of love at all. You have told me how much pressure he has on him to complete the Healing Center. He has been overseeing a large construction program, providing space for the Healing Center and its students and staff as well as living space for himself and those close to him. He has had to find teachers for the healers in training and nuns to provide nursing care to patients who come seeking healing. He has also had to assemble the staff necessary to run both Morgan Manor and the healing Center. I heard that most of the staff in residence earlier left the manor when the former baron fled to join the Mearan rebellion leaving only a few servants still willing to carry out necessary tasks. New servants had to be found. And surely the improvements to the manor are intended to provide you with a suitable home. There is a lot of work involved, and I think he is perhaps feeling a bit overwhelmed."
Fiona responded. " What you say is true but I feel that I am much less in his thoughts, and I think he is taking me for granted. He thinks when he does return to Rhemuth, he will find me sitting and waiting where he left me. Does he seriously think I have been sitting on the shelf gathering dust while waiting for him to return and notice me?" Isla noticed a note of anger in her friend's voice that had not been there before.
"Perhaps we need to teach him a lesson, show him that he is not the only man who finds you attractive. I think he would benefit by discovering that he has some competition." Isla grinned wickedly. Fiona could almost hear the wheels turning in her friend's mind.
"I have been so busy with my studies that I really have had no time for dalliance. And several young men have held back because they know of Sir Washburn's interest, and they do not want to offend him. They feel that could be dangerous. How can I indicate my interest without precipitating conflict? " Fiona looked pensive as she considered possible plans.
"You could begin by being a little friendlier to some of the young men, even engaging in a little light flirting. You just want to avoid being too friendly. Is there perhaps one of the young men who might be more of a friend, willing to act the role of serious suitor. I think the sight of you surrounded by interested young men would certainly get Wash's attention and cause him to reconsider his priorities."
Fiona was silent for a few moments appearing to consider what she might do. "With the many upcoming celebrations and feasts, I should have the opportunity to be more friendly with other young men attending court. And it is possible that Kevin McLain might be willing to assist me by posing as a suitor. He is a good friend but not interested in me in any romantic way. In fact there is a young lady whom he hopes to eventually wed."
Isla giggled. "If I saw Sir Kevin showing serious interest in a lady that I thought to wed, I would be most concerned." Sir Kevin, a 22 year old knight, youngest son of Duke Dhugal and Duchess Mirjana, is tall with dark auburn hair and his father's amber eyes. He is dashing and generally well liked. "He would certainly be a formidable rival. Do you think he would do it?"
"I will speak to him as soon as possible and explain my problem and how he might help. Wash is also his friend, and I will have to be careful to assure him that I have no intention of trapping Wash but only to help him achieve the happy union he has said he desires."
I will also try to be more friendly with other young men who approach me in a friendly or interested way. I know I have been standoffish when young men approached me, using my studies as my excuse. I would tell them that I needed to study for my exams and practice my skill with spells I must be proficient in before I graduate. They accepted that and did not pursue a closer relationship. I feel that needs to change, perhaps seeing that other young men find me attractive will wake Wash up." Fiona grinned back at her friend.
Isla replied. "I think this is a good plan. We should tell Annabelle, make sure she knows what our plan is and enlist her assistance. We definitely need to light a fire under Sir Washburn. He needs to realize that he could lose something that we believe he greatly values, at least we hope he does.
Nicely done!
A little competition can be a good thing. ;)
Wash is in for a huge shake up. Fiona is ever so good at keeping him on his toes.
Nice story premise, DFK. I think I shall have to get Washburn to Rhemuth before all those other young men discover the prettiest blond from the schola is learning to be flirtatious.
Columcil is definitely wise not to get entangled.
A lovely story.
The morning hoar-frost glistened on the holly bush outside the window, the only plant that bore color in the baronial garden. Washburn reflected how he had not even noticed the garden before. What with all the construction and the workers tromping through the grounds, he was surprised to see the holly bush had even survived. He was not the gardener type, he knew nothing of the healing herbs and plants that Father Colucmil and Sister Margaret carried on about. The nuns were already planning a healing garden outside their dormitory next to the Infirmary. But this garden belonged to the manor house, and it was in sore need of a woman's touch.
A woman's touch... that is what his manor needed. The walls were up, the roof finished, the many latticed windows let in light to shine on the new furnishings, but there were no curtains, no linens, no finery that suggested a noble woman had ever walked into this home. It was a grand residence, a castle really, but it was as yet not a home. It needed a woman's touch, and he needed a woman's touch.... And not just any woman, only one noble lady came to mind.
Baron Washburn reached across his desk over the accounting books he was trying to close out for the year to present his report to the king. He nearly knocked over the inkwell in his absent mindedness. Quickly pulling his sleeve up, he tried again, reaching for his small treasure box on the desk corner and drawing it to him. The box contained items precious to him, most of the contents were half-folded parchments; letters from the lady who had stolen his heart. He picked up the one from the top and opened it again to read the pretty sprawl of words written in a singular flourish.
My last arcane test of this season's lessons has been set for tomorrow morning. I find I can not sleep. I do not worry about passing, these lectures have been my favorite: the Basics of Ritual Magic and the Raising of the Wards. Not many students get this far. Most go home before they are of the age to learn it. The Magistra won't let anyone under eighteen attend her lessons. So I am almost glad I came to the Schola near that age. The four students including myself, who will be performing the ritual in the morning have the requirement of fasting tonight. I should be hungry and sleepy, but instead I am awake. I am not worrying over the Magistra's exam, I find myself worried that I have no other classes to take after this one, and that soon I will leave the Schola. It is exciting and scary all at once. Where will I go next? I hope it will be an adventure, a chance to use what I have learned. I want to help build something, as you are doing with the Healing Center.
Uncle Mac and Aunt Olivia want me to return home. I love them dearly, but I am not ready to go home. The queen has offered me a place in the castle as a lady-in-waiting. Yet I am not ready to be locked in the Queen's Tower with duties to perform. My friend Isla-- you remember her, granddaughter of Jass MacArdry?-- She has one more year here. I am wondering if I might stay at the Schola as an assistant. It would give me time to discover what comes next in my life. There are enough books here to ignite my imagination for a full year and I would be helping the younger students.
I would love to tell you about it all, when you come for Twelfth Night Court. The king's festivities are sure to be the highlight of the year. So many people are already filling the castle's halls showing off their finery and their courtly ways. I suspect there will be many feasts lasting until dawn. Helena did say she heard you will be coming. Please come, I have so many stories I want to share with you.
Fiona
As the letters swirled across the page in wild abandon, Wash imagined blond wisps of her hair swirling thusly in the breeze. He chided himself, usually her hair was veiled and in plaits, but there was that time he met her at the tower on the Rhemuth wall overlooking the flowing river below and the barges gliding silently downstream. Her beauty had captivated him in the sunlight and the autumn wind had blown her veil free from its pins. Vexed by the movement of the fabric, she removed the veil completely and she let her wheaten tresses flow and dance behind her. He had been captivated.
And he had been stupid. Why hadn't he fallen down on one knee right then and there. If he had proposed to her on that very spot, he could be marrying her this Twelfth Night. But no, he had delayed, he had been selfish, enjoying the minutes he had alone with her, and fearful that, if he did ask, she might not say "Yes". That would be devastating. He looked down at the letter in his hand. Fiona MacIntyre was finishing her lessons at the Schola. She would have had her final exam by now and he knew she would have passed it. She spoke of so many dreams about what her future could be. She wanted more than her uncle or even the queen could offer her. Fiona wanted to accomplish something significant, he wanted that for her too. He was anxious to find a way to give it to her. Yet, would she be willing to live a life of stability at his side. She gave no indications that she wanted to plant gardens and furnish homes and build a new life at Morgan Manor. Would settling down and consenting to be his wife be a restraint on her free spirit? Her strong will to do what she needed to do regardless of cultural norms is what really drew him to her. Marriage was the ultimate form of normality, meant to bring stability and commitment to two people. He loved her so, he knew no other way to be sure she could keep her wonderful free spirit, but would she see it that way?
He looked up from his reverie to address the solar's other occupant. "I leave for Christmas Court in the morning, Cousin. You have not yet said, will you be joining me? I have that report to make to the king on our progress here and you have been such an integral leader in setting up the Healing Center that I think you should be there if questions arise."
Over by the hearth, in a comfortable cushioned chair with his feet up on a stool, sat a tonsured priest in his middle years. Father Columcil's head was bent over, deep into reading his Grandfather's lovingly bound prayer book. "Ye can answer to the king for me," said the man calmly without looking up.
"And too, Fiona's letters talk about foregoing Baron Stuart's request that she go home, instead she is thinking of staying on at the schola. I had other hopes for us being together at last, but she does not write about our future, why? Have I not been clear that I've prepared Morgan Manor for the two of us together to raise a proper family. I had thought that is what she would want; I know that is what I want. Am I being selfish? Have I not fully considered her desires? Columcil, I need your support!"
"Nay, laddie, this you need to solve on your own." The priest gave no further indication that he would be traveling with Wash to Rhemuth, instead he bent down deeper into his reading.
"But it is the king's winter court? Didn't the Archbishop request your presence?"
"He did so, and I already wrote back t' him, I now ha'e a flock o men, women, and bairns who require ma love and attention here at your estate. Just because you can run off to Rhemuth on a whim, doesn'a mean that your people can gang wi' you and 'tis needful they no' be neglected during this most holy o' seasons."
"I agree, but Father Dafyd..."
"Father Dafyd, is feeling a wee bittie under the weather, nothing serious, but his ankles are swellit frae th' gout and I ha'e ordered him to keep off his feet. Not only am I taking the services here at Morgan Manor, but I agreed ta help him at th' Hidden Valley Church, rather than him helping me. Ye ken how I love that wee kirk, 'tis where I wed Darcy and Aliset. So as you see, I shall be gey busy and have nae time for Rhemuth this season." That finally said, Father Columcil looked rather pleased with himself. It was no secret between them that Columcil was not comfortable around the high and mighty nobility-- even if he was fathered by a duke.
"But I..."
"Ach, Nay! Ye will na draw me in to your wooing of the bonny lass. That is on ye. I will have no more of the matchmaking of nobility. Ah'll be most pleased to wed the two of ye when the time for that comes. But... Nae matchmaking... it is none of my business. Ah did more than enow when Ah had to play arbitrator between Darcy and Aliset. Ye werena there. Ah think they would have just as soon bitten off each other's heads if Ah hadn't gotten them married. Nae repeating that again!" Columcil's eyes shone with a deep emotional spark and Wash knew he had lost this battle.
"I am sorry I wasn't there. More to the point, I am sorry, it was because of me that it happened.... Yet, I am not sorry, because those two are peas in a pod and their little girls are two more identical peas from that same pod. How I will miss seeing them this winter. They received royal permission to remain in Meara. Lord Darcy sent his Senchal to give the king his report. I fear those bonny girls will be right grown by the time I see them again in the spring."
"Aye to that!" Father Columcil agreed.
Washburn looked out the window again at the barren land that he imagined would soon be Fiona's garden, filled with spring and summer blooms. "Do you think she will say "Yes" ? Maybe it is too soon to ask. Gads, what if she doesn't, what if she has other plans! She wanted to do more, maybe she doesn't want to be tied down to a baronial estate."
"Ma Laird Washburn, get a hold on yourself. Ye ride for the capital in the morn, you will see her by evening tomorrow and you can ask her. Just follow your heart and I am certain she will follow hers."
Wash was quiet for a time, working determinedly to finish his accounting books so he could be ready for travel. Columcil turned back to the fire and his book, leaving ribbon bookmarks where he would like to give in his morning service.
He was startled out of his reading by Washburn's exclamation: "I need a portal!"
"If I had a portal, I could be there instantly to ask for her hand today!"
A sigh came from near the hearth, but Washburn ignored it. "We have talked about it before, creating a secure portal at the healing center. I have the petition to the king drawn up right here." Wash pulled another parchment from off his desk. "I will present my petition to Kelson that he might give approval for a portal to be created here on the grounds. If only I had pleaded my cause this last autumn, then it too would already be done. Why have you let me procrastinate in all these things?"
"Me? Washburn, listen to yerself. Last autumn you were still pleading for mair servants and requesting the Abbess of Saint Brigid's ta gi'e us nuns trained under Healing Sister Margaret to assist us here at our infirmary. They have already proven to be a God-send, knowing how Healing works and how you and Ah can make the most of our skills. The patients we have seen since we opened have fully mended, thanks in part to their meticulous care."
"And again," Washburn replied. "I thank you for your suggestions. And because of them, and you, I feel it is safe to leave the infirmary for a time. Oh, but I want to be in Rhemuth."
"Then why are you waiting until the morn? Gang noo, Cousin! That bonny lass is no' going to wait for you forever, ye ken!"
Wash suddenly had a look of horror on his face. It might have been the first time, ever, that he imagined her not waiting for him. "I need to go now!" he said in a hurry. Why had the idea not come to him sooner. He looked at the accounting sheets before him and he suddenly no longer cared about the numbers. He picked up Fiona's last letter, then thumbed back through his treasure box, under her other letters in the box he pulled forth a small velvet pouch. Hurriedly, he opened the pouch and tipped its contents into his hand. A ring with a large pink diamond surrounded by rubies glistened in the window light rested in his calloused hand. "I will ask her today..."
Columcil laughed and spoke in his best court accent. "No, you will ride there without causing your horse to go lame. You will then bathe, put on your best tunic and then ask the queen to allow you a private moment with the lass. Where you will then tell her what is in your heart. And you will wait for her to tell you what is in her heart. May you both share the same affliction." Columcil mumbled the last under his breath.
"It shall be done as you say, Cousin." Wash grabbed the items from his desk and rushed to his rooms, his pack was already filled for tomorrow's trip. "John, see that my horse is saddled..." he called down the hall, "I leave for Rhemuth at once."
A very good scene, but why, oh why, do I have the feeling things will not go smoothly?
When have things ever gone smoothly or as intended with our group?
Feyd smiles has he reads the reports from his agent within the Gwynedd Schola. Talented Deryni were in short supply in Gwynedd, it was all too easy to infiltrate the teaching staff.
The last two years have seen a number of events for Feyd and the Order. The old prophecy was proved to be correct with the blocking talents of the young Morgan, a man who is watched by many spies of the Order day and night.
"He will one day be a part of the Order," Feyd thinks to himself, remembering the words of the prophecy. But so far he has refused all invitations to join.
Of course the greatest achievement of the Order was the planting of an agent within the hated Camberian Council. Having advance notice of what happens has been invaluable these past couple of years.
And it has proven the effectiveness of the Ritual that Feyd himself developed for deep agents as well as improvements within it.
Setting the reports down he glances across to his colleague. "Washburn will come around. Even if he must be enticed into it. But he will not be swayed by coin. But none the less, we will see that his coffers are filled with the necessary donations for his projects."
"He is the future of the Order. I do firmly believe the old Seer, no matter what anyone else believes. Sebeasur's prophecies have all come to pass. He is not wrong about Wash."
Feyd picks up the next report at his finger tips. "See to it. And make sure one of us is with Wash when he goes to Rhemuth for the Haldane's Winter Court."
The companion stands and bows at the neck. "At once m'Lord," he replies before leaving Feyd to his reading.
So many teasing questions remain unanswered in this posting! It's almost unfair...well, almost. ;D
"OVER SOMEONE'S **********!" And I am not saying Whose!
Quote from: Laurna on January 20, 2023, 03:10:58 PM"OVER SOMEONE'S DEAD BODY!" And I am not saying Whose!
Hmmmmm. The idea had crossed my mind.
Ah ha ha ha ha! Poor Wash! He's getting it from all sides! :D
So others disbelieve the prophecy? Maybe others within the Order might feel Feyd is becoming a tad obsessed
An intriguing situation. I think the Order would have to make some significant changes in its own goals, actions and plans to have any chance of wooing Wash. And I still see it as extremely unlikely but there certainly can be some fun with this. And i do wonder whose dead body will be the price of the outcome.
Plan in Action: Fiona
Fiona and Isla entered the great hall. There were swags of greenery decorating the walls and draped over the sconces and chandeliers and the fragrance of pine filled their nostrils. Fat beeswax candles and flaring torches provided a warm light. There was a buzz of conversation from those seated around the tables lining each side of the hall. The king was seated at the high table, Queen Araxie was seated to his left with Archbishop Duncan beside her. Seated to the king's right was his heir, Prince Javan with his wife, Duchess Grania beside him. Some of his closest advisors had not yet arrived but were expected in the next few days. They included the Duke of Corwyn and his party as well as the Earl o' Isles who was traveling alone. Other close advisors and members of his council flanked him on either side.There was a larger number than usual filling the tables in the hall. The festivities of Christmas Court had begun and would culminate in the grand celebration of Twelfth Night.
The two girls hesitated at the entrance, pausing to take in the scene before them. They then moved forward to join other Schola students at their table near the front of the hall where they were warmly welcomed. The young ladies appeared excited as they were talking and giggling and casting their eyes over the young men seated nearby. After the feast there would be dancing and they were anxious to survey the prospects. Annabelle had joined them and the three minxes had their heads together talking in low tones.
Father John Nivard was presiding at the table with the Magistra at his side. He spoke to Helena as he observed the three young ladies, "I wonder what mischief they are cooking up now."
"Perhaps they are just excited about the festivities. They have been studying quite hard, especially Fiona who has just passed her final examinations and her spell demonstrations. Maybe they are just ready for some fun." Helena replied as she smiled at the three.
"I was under the impression that Fiona is being courted by Baron Washburn Morgan, but we haven't seen much of him of late.. There has been no word of a betrothal. Has something gone wrong there?" the priest quizzed Helena.
"Fiona has not mentioned the Baron of late. I am not sure what is going on there. I am hoping we will see him for Twelfth Night. As you know, Fiona has completed all her requirements and will graduate at the end of the winter term. She has been an excellent student and works well with the younger students who love her. I understand that her plans are uncertain. What would you think of offering her a position as assistant on the faculty? We need more instructors and, if she is interested, I feel she would be a wonderful addition. I had not broached the subject before because I am not sure of the situation with Sir Washburn. Maybe we will have our answer by the end of the celebration." Helena responded.
The Rector was quiet for a few moments. "We will need to discuss this further. I hope that by the end of the Twelfth Night festivities, the status of the relationship between Fiona and Washburn Morgan will be clarified, and we will be in a better position to decide whether to offer her a position. In the meantime, we should monitor the situation." Helena nodded her agreement.
The girls were soon served and talking as they ate their meal. Fiona was scanning the tables nearest, obviously seeking a particular person. Finally she spotted Lord Kevin McLain at a table with three other young knights and several of the senior squires who were due to be knighted at the coming Twelfth Night ceremonies. He felt her gaze and turned his head, nodded and smiled at her. She gave him a bright smile then sat back and turned toward Isla. "I sent him a message asking that we meet, that I needed his help and am anxious to talk with him. I'm hoping that we can manage it tonight when the dancing begins. It will be easier to slip away, perhaps to the orangery, where we can talk. Isla, will you come to assure propriety?" Isla nodded her agreement.
Soon the tables were cleared and the musicians began to tune up. Wine glasses were filled and platters of pastries and sweetmeats were passed. Couples paired up as a merry reel began. Fiona had been studying them when she heard a voice addressing her. "My Lady, may I have the honor of this dance?" She looked up into the face of one of the senior squires, a tall lad with dark hair who was quite attractive. He appeared a little hesitant until she smiled at him warmly and took his proffered hand. He led her to a place in a circle that was forming and they began the steps, joining hands and skipping in the circle. She had not danced in some time and found it fun although she did become a little short of breath near the end of the set. He bowed and returned her to her seat where she found a second young man waiting to ask for her hand. She had danced several sets when Sir Kevin approached her and bowed. May I have the pleasure of this next dance?" She smiled brightly and gave him her hand. At the end of the set, Kevin spoke quietly, "I believe the musicians are preparing to take a break. It is getting quite warm in here. Would you care to stroll out to the orangery where it is cooler?"
"Oh yes, I would like that of all things right now."
"Would your friend care to join us?" Isla had come nearer.
When asked, Isla indicated she would be pleased to go with them. Sir Kevin spoke to the Magestra who nodded her assent and the three of them left the hall.
They reached the orangery and entered, strolling among the trees and fragrant flowers. They reached a stone bench where they sat down. Isla moved away a little, saying she wished to study some of the plants. Kevin turned toward Fiona, looking at her with a quizzical expression. "I received your message. What is troubling you and what assistance might I provide?"
Fiona looked up at him with concern in her blue eyes. "I am worried about Washburn."
"Why? What is concerning you? I thought things were going well, and he has made great progress on rebuilding the manor and in building the Healing Center. I have heard favorable reports that those in need of healing are already finding their way to the Center and some have already experienced healing. Nursing sisters from St Brigids have been sent to the center and are caring for those who need nursing care. He has also restored the manor house, and it is nearly finished. What problems have arisen? Have there been threats from the former baron who joined the rebellion? Are the rebels trying to sneak back into the area and foment trouble again?"
Fiona took a deep breath. "No. it is nothing like that, although he has had a great deal of pressure on him to complete these projects." Fiona dropped her eyes to stare at her lap where she kneaded a handkerchief. "It is our future, mine and Washburn's, that gives me concern. You know that he received permission from my guardian to court me though no betrothal was proposed. We needed to be able to spend some time together, to get to know each other better and to discover if the feelings that developed as we traveled to Rhemuth were true."
Kevin regarded the young lady sympathetically. "Has this not gone as you hoped. Have you discovered that your feelings for him are not as deep as you thought or that perhaps he is not the person you thought he was.?"
"Oh not. It's not that. It's just that he seems to be growing away from me. We have not had as much time to be together and get to know each other as I had hoped. He has been so occupied with his duties that he has been in Rhemuth less and less. If he does come, it is a fleeting visit, usually related to missions for the king or his brother, the Duke. We do write letters, but increasingly he talks about what he is doing at Morgan Manor but little or nothing about our future or his feelings for me. I am afraid that his feelings for me are waning, that he is falling out of love, if he ever truly was in love with me. I don't know what to think."
Kevin was quiet for a moment. "What is it you think I could do to help? We are close friends, but like you I have seen little of him since before the rebellion. My father and I visited his Healing Center at his invitation. He was very happy to show us around and tell us how they were preparing for the care of patients. I had hoped to meet the healing priest who was working with him but Wash said Father Columcil was away at the time of our stay. When he showed us to our rooms in the manor, he did talk of the lovely Fiona McIntyre with hopeful anticipation of having you at his side."
"I honestly can't believe that his feelings for you have changed. We did talk before he left Rhemuth for Morgan Manor, and he told me you had stolen his heart and he hoped to win you for his wife. He sees the alterations to the manor and the estate as part of his plan to win you. When he talks now of needing a wife, that same hope is there, that he will win you."
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure that would be beneficial. I think that perhaps he takes me for granted, that he feels no urgency to move toward a betrothal, that he now thinks that whenever he decides to look for me, I'll be here waiting where he left me. I think that I need to find a way to get his attention, rekindle that sense of urgency."
Kevin shook his head doubtfully. "What could I do?
"Perhaps the threat of some competition would pique his interest again. Would you be willing to pretend interest in courting me? I have been so absorbed in my studies that I have not gotten to know many of the young men here at court, and they have been reluctant to seek me out because they are aware of my relationship with Wash. I thought I might try being more friendly, perhaps even flirting a little. It might get his attention if he saw that other young men found me attractive and I, them."
"I don't know." Kevin said. "Wash is my friend. I don't want to damage our friendship. If he found out, he might feel that I was betraying him. It might make things worse, not better. "
"I don't want to upset or hurt him. I care deeply for him but how do I get him to see me again? I only want him to realize that he may be depriving us of a future. I need to know if he even still desires it." she appeared to be on the verge of tears.
The young knight hesitated then spoke. "Perhaps I could spend a bit more time with you, pay you some of the attention you deserve but in a friendly way rather than romantic. When he arrives, I might speak with him, tell him that I find you very attractive. I could wonder if he is still courting you since we have seen so little of him in Rhemuth. I could point out that I am not the only one who finds you appealing. I am not sure whether you have noticed, but there is a new arrival at Kelson's Court, Prince Nivelon, son of the Grand Duke of Vezaire. He has presented himself to the king. I have heard that he has come to court hoping to find a Deryni bride and so has been surveying the young ladies from the Schola. I have noticed his eyes following you whenever you are near."
"I have not noticed him. Perhaps you can point him out if he is in the hall tonight. I think your suggestions are good ones. I don't want to cause any hard feelings or conflict among any of the young men at court. I just feel that I need to arouse Wash's interest; he cannot just assume that I am sitting here waiting for him to return and pick me up again. And I most need to know if his feelings for me are the same or if they are waning and he is no longer sure of his love for me. I don't want him to feel forced to offer for me if he no longer feels the same." Fiona paused.
Kevin smiled at her. "I do not believe that his feelings have changed or that he is falling out of love. I think that he has been so preoccupied with all his duties at Morgan Manor and the Healing Center, that he does not realize that his neglect of you could cause him to lose something very dear to him, your love. I do see that reminding him that you are not a woman to be taken for granted should provide an important lesson. I will remember this when I start courting. Let us implement the plan we have discussed and see what happens."
Kevin stood and held out his hand to her. "I think I hear the musicians tuning up for the next set of dances. We should return to the hall." Isla had moved nearer. He held out an arm to both of the young ladies. They placed their hands on his arms, and they walked back toward the hall. "I am entering the hall with a lovely lady on each arm, I will be the envy of all the young men hoping for a dance." He laughed as he returned them to their places and the music began.
"Prince Nivelon is at the Haldane's Court!?" Feyd screamed in anger. "Why wasn't I informed of his visit to Gwynedd? Surely we have enough spies in the Grand Duke's residence to know of such things."
Feyd stops pacing the floor of his study. "We could turn this into an advantage. Have our agent at Rhemuth contact the Prince ... "
"My Lord." Came the voice of the other man in the room. Cutting across Feyd's chain of thought. "The other masters of the Order have concerns that you have become ... 'obsessed' with the young Morgan and Sebeasure's prophecies."
"They knew the Prince was going to Rhemuth. And I have come to you when I learned of it."
"They will be calling a conclave to determine your fate soon. There are others who support you but it is close. Your blood may not be enough to sway those who are uncertain."
Feyd sits down. "The short sighted fools. Only caring about petty revenge. It was my family who started it all. But they have failed to see the greater whole."
"Without my leadership, we would have never infiltrated the Camberian Council. That alone gives us the power to break them once and for all when the time is right."
"Who can we trust?"
Oh my goodness. Things are really getting interesting.
Quote from: revanne on January 23, 2023, 11:26:19 AMOh my goodness. Things are really getting interesting.
And Quickly going to get out of hand, I fear!
DerynifanK, That was a wonderful evening to spend with Fiona. I think she is overly worried but I see now that she is a woman not to be taken for granted, Wash needs to learn this and learn it fast. Though I fear in the ways of women he may be a bit "dense". LOL
Bynw. "OH Dear!" I love that the other masters are starting to question his motives, BUT... I fear that makes him a very dangerous man. YIKES!
As if Feyd is not already dangerous enough! Interesting that he got so excited about the prince.
Washburn walked through the great hall bronze doors which a guard opened for him quickly and as quickly closed behind him lest the cool air of the winter night follow him within. Standing in the screen's passage behind a magnificent inlaid carving of the Great Haldane Lion, the baron took in the sounds of joyous music, raised voices and laughter. He was eager to move past the screens to set eyes on his lady and catch her attention, yet a royal squire was just as eager to stand in his path and beckoned to take his cloak. Wash hurriedly unfastened the ties at his neck thinking that would dismiss the squire from his path, but when it did not, he glanced across at the younger man and saw the deep frown upon his face.The youth pointed down to the mud on his boots indicating it might not be royal decorum to come into the king's presence so poorly attired. So Wash hesitated at the edge of the carved screen to at least see if his lady was here.
His eyes scanned the tables first finding many folk of the merchant class seated resplendent in the tunics and gowns of their wealth. Wash didn't believe in spending so much on personal vanity, but it did bespeak that Gwynedd's economy had grown since the putting down of the rebellion. It was getting hard to tell the difference between nobility and merchants. Perhaps that was why the master tailor he had helped on the road had been so anxious to get back to the city to fulfill the orders of his clients. He too, seemed to have become a prosperous man. The minor setback of his overturned wagon and injured leg had been short lived, as Washburn had come upon the accident and provided aid.
He did not see Fiona among those at the tables. Magistra Helena was there, as was Rector John Navard. They only came to these festivities to chaperone their students, so Wash was certain the youths of the schola must be somewhere within. Dozens of heads bobbed and swirled in lines and then in circles around the open floor before the king's Dias. The men were resplendent in every color of velvet and silk, heralding their gallantry to the ladies. The ladies, gowned as exquisitely as the men, also wore their unbound tresses of brown curls, reddish locks, and blond wisps of hair under shimmering veils barely tucked upon the head by a pin or two. Blonds there were plenty, but none so wheaten-haired as the lady of his dreams. Then he saw her, dancing near the head of the hall with a tall copper-haired knight wearing the tunic of Cassan. That must be Kevin McLain, Washburn thought. That boy had grown up since the rebellion and now he looked so much like his older brother and his father. Wash had helped train Kevin in the tournaments where he worked to gain his knighthood. Wash also had been happy to play host at his manor recently when the McLains had come to visit. Wash counted Kevin as a cousin and as a friend, It was good to see him being courteous to Fiona.
As the music ended and the dancers shifted partners, Wash wanted to race up the hall and take Fiona's hand. A few steps in and he was stopped again by the same squire. "My lord, you can not possibly think of going before the king dressed as you are. If it is something urgent, then I will relay it forward."
The baron looked down at his torn sleeve and his muddied jerkin with the blood stain at the hem, Not his blood, just the tailor's blood when he leaned over the man to heal his leg. But it was enough to give reason to stay back at the doors and not cause a scene during such a festive evening. Fiona had found another young man to dance with, he was not overly tall, but he had this striking mane of black hair nearly the length of Fiona's tied back in a intertwining brandy wine ribbon. A matching sash of velvet lay over one shoulder and crossed at the opposite hip, medals of honor sparkled against the burgundy velvet. Washburn was shaken by the sight of his beloved smiling with this popinjay as he danced with her before everyone in the hall. There were other dancers of course, but Wash saw no others but them.
"Call Sir Kevin to me, I would speak to him." Washburn requested with a sour tone. In an instant, the squire had dashed through the hall and was soon returning with Kevin on his heels.
"My word!" Kevin proclaimed as he came into the screens passage, "What are you doing here at this late hour? We did not expect you for another day. Lord in heaven, what has happened to you?" Kevin gave his cousin a squeeze on the arm and then stood back perplexed. "You know right well, the king has demanded that you not travel alone."
"I am not aware of such a restriction, and I was not traveling alone. I had John with me. I would have been here sooner had we not come across an overturned wagon off the edge of the road about an hour north of the ferry. It was that master tailor I have heard about from many of the fine houses in the city. The good fellow was injured in the accident, his wagon had turned over and the trunks containing his goods had spilled out into the mud. John and I righted the mess, saw to his health and then escorted him to the ferry to get back to the city. It took a bit of name dropping and coin to convince the ferryman for one more run, because they had closed for the night. The only serious consequences were a few ruined bolts of fabric-- someone won't have the attire they ordered for Twelfth Night. But all of that aside, that is not why I am here tonight. I want to see Lady Fiona, I can barely see her through the crowd... she is so lovely... can you tell her I am here?"
"Of course I can, But Wash... Do you really want her to see you like this? You don't want to frighten the lass do you?"
"I would so love to be the one dancing with her just now," Wash replied wistfully.
"And you will be. I can change clothes with you.... Awe...But look there, Magistra Helena is preparing to depart, which means the students will be departing with her. I am sorry Wash. Look, this has been an innocent joyous night for the students of the schola. Let Fiona go off with happy dreams of dancing, and you go get properly cleaned up. You can meet with her in the morning. That would probably be better for the both of you."
"But, Kevin..." Even as Wash wanted to insist, he saw the Rector step onto the dance floor and raise his arm to call his students to his side. In the middle of dancing, twenty youths reluctantly bowed or curtseyed to their partners, then repeated the reverence to the king and queen, and then all followed the Rector and Magistra out the side door of the great hall. They would not be walking past where Washburn stood, and there was no way he could finagle his way though the festivities to take Fiona's hand. Why had he delayed talking with Kevin, instead of just rushing into the hall? Now he had missed his chance.
Kevin must have understood his sullen expression and clapped him on the shoulders. "Let's get you cleaned up before the king realizes you are here. I doubt he will want a report tonight but I am certain he will want you to present yourself before he closes the evening. Come, you can use the McLain rooms for tonight."
Kevin was generous in letting Washburn use his rooms and his servants to bathe and dress. Squire John had found him and set his court tunic out for him to dress. It was an hour past when Washburn presented himself before the king. Queen Araxie and her ladies had already retired for the night. Kelson eyed Wash with a concerned gaze. And Washburn felt like a wayward son under a father's displeasure. "I sent men who were to meet you at Arx Fidei in the morning and escort you here. How is it that those plans were pushed aside?"
Rather than becoming defensive at the king's chiding, the baron sat up straighter in his chair and spoke plainly, "My hopes of finding a certain young lady and getting down on a knee to ask for her hand in marriage has given me great courage to be at your court a day sooner," he declared, followed by a lopsided smile.
"And this courage, did it give you the forethought to come here without taking side tours, to be here far earlier in the evening when you could have done this thing that you desired to do?" The king did not give the baron time to answer. "No it did not! Instead I hear you stopped to assist others, which is the proper thing to do for most of my knights, but not you. I will not hear that your gallantry has gotten you into a trap of any sort. You of all people must know that I will not allow you to risk being caught unawares. You are not a child, so I expect you to not behave like one."
Taken back by such admonishment, Washburn could only hang his head. "Sire, I apologize, I did not know you were sending men to escort me here."
"Now you know. I would have rapported that to you earlier this evening, but instead Columcil informed me that you had already left, and then when you did not arrive here when you were supposed to, what was I to think?" Kelson moved a goblet of wine before Washburn and then rested his hand upon Washburn's wrist. The king's mindspeach told Wash just how upset the king had been over his delayed arrival. You are the son of my dearest friend and you are uncle to my grandchildren, that alone makes you part of the royal family. We have discussed this before and I give you as much freedom as I dare. Must I reiterate that your singular ability to block Deryni powers while making you an asset to Gwynedd also makes you a target for every other kingdom. I will not risk again what happened before.
Sire, Nor will I take such risks, I promise you. The man I helped was known to me, He was the master Tailor returning to his shop here in Rhemuth. I don't know if you have met him but he is a man of talent when it comes to garments. Half the men and women here have been clothed by him. Wash sent across the image of the man injured and the king seemed to relax.
Washburn looked over at the man seated beside him and realized there was real concern in Kelson's eyes. He was more than just one of Kelson's barons, he was nearly a son to the king and Wash had forgotten this in his long months away from court. "Please forgive me, your majesty!" Wash said feeling contrite.
Kelson nodded, accepting the apology. "Now that you are here, I expect your full report on the manor and the Healing center in the morning, early. Afterward, well, I wish you well in your pursuits. She is a pretty one and quite talented as well. It is a pairing that I applaud. But you must win her over on your own terms, and well, after tonight, I fear you may have competition."
"What!" Wash asked in shock. But Kelson did not explain. Instead he stood up. The music ceased and everyone bowed as the king left the hall. In the king's absence the music returned to playing but Washburn was left sitting at the head table to contemplate just what the king had meant by his parting words.
*****
It was nearing the noon hour when Washburn left the royal withdrawing room with his head high. His audience with the King had gone well: his books were in order, his provision orders were being filled and his request for a portal was now under royal consideration. His only concession was to allow the king to assign a young knight to his person for the foreseeable future. It was a good thing that Sir Kevin was amenable to the task, but Wash felt trepidation about how Father Columcil would take the news. Now that his duties to the crown were fulfilled, he walked into the great hall where his eyes quickly found his focus on a lady standing in the window alcove. She was bathed in a puddle of golden sunlight, and she smiled toward him, at first, all a glow. Yet as he came closer, her smile turned to a slight frown.
"I held a seat for you at mass this morning, I thought you would come sit beside me and we could follow mass with a good meal over which to share our past months apart."
"My dearest lady, I am sorry, I did not consider that you might be there. I was concerned about my audience with the king this morning, so I went straight to him. I would dearly love to share the noon mass with you and then a walk in the garden where you can tell me all about how you passed your exams and what you desire for the future."
Fiona's frown deepened. "I can not, the Magistra is holding a luncheon for the schola women, and I am to assist in welcoming the new students." She touched his hand when his face fell. "I learned you came last evening, why did you not come see me then?"
"I... I... was not attired..."
"Do you think I am so shallow as to care what you were wearing? Honestly, my lord, do you not know me at all?" Fiona had that stubborn look of displeasure on her face, her hand tightened on his, then abruptly let it go.
"My lady, please, I would never think such a thing of you."
"Very well, then, make it up to me by escorting me to the dinning hall this evening. I will wait for you at the Schola, please don't make me wait too long." She gave him a winning smiled, then turned as her name was called behind her. Two of Fiona's Schola mates were beckoning her to join them. And even as he bowed to her, the three of them scurried from the hall. Baron Washburn Morgan was left standing alone, quite bewildered at how their encounter had gone so awry.
"...quite bewildered at how their encounter had gone so awry."
Tsk, Baron Washburn. You are familiar with your writers, right? ;)
Well done, Laurna!
Very nicely done, Laurna. Poor Washburn can't do right for doing wrong.
I swear I never used to be so suspicious minded but I harbour black thoughts about that "innocent" tailor.
I am more concerned about that visiting prince as well as what Feyed will conjure up to deal with his problem in the Order.
I wonder if any on the CC have any suspicion that they have a "cuckoo" in the nest and how they will handle it if they do become suspicious. Who is actually on the Council now and who are the adjutants? Who took Denis's place on his death? We need to know more of what is happening with the council. This is a serious story line!! And how will this affect Feyd's focus on Washburn and luring him to join the Order. I don't see that ever happening but maybe the king should station some Haldane lancers at Morgan Manor for the foreseeable future. This could get quite tangled and twisted. And how will it affect Wash and Fiona and their future? If Kelson is still so concerned about traps and danger to Wash, will Iain remain reluctant to consent to a betrothal between the two of them. How much risk would there be for Fiona? Lot to think about.
Quote from: DerynifanK on January 28, 2023, 11:53:33 AMI wonder if any on the CC have any suspicion that they have a "cuckoo" in the nest and how they will handle it if they do become suspicious.
No they do not. The disguise is nearly perfect and very very very difficult to detect.
Hard to say what that would do, except what they would not do. Since they probably wouldn't resort to murder.
Quote from: DerynifanK on January 28, 2023, 11:53:33 AMWho is actually on the Council now and who are the adjutants? Who took Denis's place on his death? We need to know more of what is happening with the council. This is a serious story line!! And how will this affect Feyd's focus on Washburn and luring him to join the Order.
2 CC members died during our GotP. I don't recall the names of the replacements. But I'm sure it could be searched out in the GotP thread.
And how it would effect Feyd's focus IF his agent on the CC were to be discovered? We will never know since that is one of those things that isn't going to happen. Besides, the CC are all NPCs and they don't matter to the story.
Quote from: DerynifanK on January 28, 2023, 11:53:33 AMI don't see that ever happening but maybe the king should station some Haldane lancers at Morgan Manor for the foreseeable future. This could get quite tangled and twisted. And how will it affect Wash and Fiona and their future? If Kelson is still so concerned about traps and danger to Wash, will Iain remain reluctant to consent to a betrothal between the two of them. How much risk would there be for Fiona? Lot to think about.
Wow that is a lot to think about. I think the Haldane King sounds like he's on the verge of obsession and paranoia when it comes to Wash. Especially if he were to put Lancers there. Is the King or one of his Deryni going to Mind-See every soldier stationed at the Manor to see if they are Loyal or even force loyalty? Not very ethical if that were the case but it would be right up the alley with obsession and paranoia.
Game of Throne had a name for such a King, the Mad King.
QuoteGame of Throne had a name for such a King, the Mad King.
LOL Kelson is not a "Mad King" poor Kelson that you would even think that of him. Kelson may be cautious after the Rebellion of two years ago, but he also understands loyalties and freedoms. I am pretty sure he will have upend his own methods of keeping in touch with what is going on throughout his kingdom. Iain and the Arilan's will not be his only spies. but I doubt he has much indication as yet as to what Feyd and his order are up to. Kelson will be watching vigilant but not so far as to assign lancers to Wash. Assigning Kevin McLain as Wash's first knight to his household should be enough. Kevin is a few years younger than Wash and they are 2nd or 3rd cousins or something like that. and It would do Kevin good to be with Wash at the Healing Center. Kevin very likely will be a Healer too.