NNWM
Went for a drink with American Will last night to discuss NaNoWriMo - seems that there's not many of us inflicting it upon ourselves in Norwich this year. Thankfully he's about as far behind as I am (selfish I know, but it makes me feel better :) ) and neither of us are at the point of needing what he accurately described as a "10K Day". Yet...
A week later Jerren and Dintaga reached the southern border of Fedden Barony and stopped for the night at a large coaching inn. A fresh looking palisade of sharpened logs surrounded the buildings and armed men stood watch by the gate. It seemed clear that the troubles in the outer baronies were being felt closer to Hember as well.
Jerren felt less awkward with a sword at his belt now - at first it had conspired to constantly trip him up or bang painfully against his shin. Every night before they ate Dintaga had drilled him in the basic forms of Lithian sword combat. His weapon was curved, designed to allow the wielder to slash downwards from the saddle unlike the straight blades used by the infantry. Dintaga had told him that it mattered very little for learning basic techniques, and Jerren had a feeling that on this basis it would be a while before he needed a straight blade of his own.
Dintaga's own swords were a matched pair, far more ornate than his own but no less deadly looking for all that. Whereas his weapon had a simple black iron hand guard protecting a worn leather hand grip Dintaga's were adorned with flaring teardrop traceries of interlaced metal strands that looked far too delicate to protect the hand beneath. The grips too were wrapped in fine chain and when he had asked permission to pick one up he had been amazed at the lightness and balance of the slim blade. Afterwards his own sword had felt clumsy in his grip, as if he was reduced to waving around a deadwood branch.
The gate guards let them through without comment, although Jerren felt a slight chill at their humourless, assessing gazes and was glad to hurry through into the noisy bustle of the tack yard. Within the palisade the atmosphere was bright and busy, a striking contrast to the oppressive night beyond the walls. The two storeys of the inn flanked two sides of the stone flagged yard with a third taken up by thatched stables. These were only half full, and Jerren found himself wondering how much busier the inn would seem if they were full - it was already on a par with the press of the Assak market and this was just the courtyard.
Stepping across the threshold brought them directly into the main common room. Low tables with rough wooden benches and stools were packed in on the straw dusted wooden floor, seemingly too close to allow passage between them although bar staff transported laden trays from table to table with apparent ease. A hundred drink-fuelled conversations combined into a single omnipresent roar - Jerren could just about make out a group of mintrels playing in the corner through the smoke but he doubted that even those on the closest tables could hear their music.
Dintaga paused near the door and looked around the room, hand resting lightly upon one sword pommel. As he did so a young woman ducked around a table to stand in fornt of them, hair coming loose from under her bonnet and barmaid’s apron in dissarray but a welcoming smile on her face despite her evident haste.
“Good evening gentlemen” she curtsied quickly. “Follow me please.” Jerren started stupidly after her retreating form as she turned and vanished back into the crowded room - it was the first time anyone had ever referred to him as a ‘gentleman’. But Dintaga headed after her without a pause, doing his usual crowd-clearing trick as he did so and Jerren was able to hurry after them with relative ease. Near the back of the room they stopped, their guide having performed the minor miracle of finding a small table with several free stools.
“Ale” said Dintaga, passing her a sliver coin. “And we will want lodging - a private room if you have it…” The girl seemed about to reply when suddenly a huge voice cut through the background roar.
“Colonel!”
Jerren looked about in confusion - to be heard above the hubbub the speaker must be close by but he could not see whom it might have been. Then he noticed a man standing up fully halfway across the room. He was broad shoulders and of such a height that his bearded head was ducked slightly to avoid the roof beams. His dark clothing was reinforced with leather patches that Jerren’s few days of sword drill told him would protect many of a swordsman’s vulnerable areas. And he was staring in their direction.
Dintaga paid the man no heed and sent the barmaid off to complete their order, apparently oblivious to the disturbance and the fact that the background conversations had reduced in volume slightly as people on nearby tables looked around in surprise. As he watched the huge man’s companion reached up and tugged at the giant’s elbow, apparently trying to get him to sit down. He was dressed similarly but physically they were completely different, the second man being a slight fellow with receding hair cut close to his scalp. Hi beard seemed patchy despite being neatly cut. The big man pulled his arm away from the other’s grip and set off across the room directly towards their table, pushing carelessly past several other patrons on his way over. Anyone who thought to complain took one look and rapidly changed their minds. After a moment the second man got up and followed, a worried look on his face.
As he reached their table Dintaga looked up and smiled. “Jasper” he said, standing to grasp the man’s hand and shake it firmly. His face had been unreadable but now the giant called Jasper broke into a wide grin that shone through his bushy beard like a summer half moon.
“You remembered Colonel” he said in a voice only marginally quieter than the one he had used to call across the common room, his pleasure plain for the world to see.
“Of course - it’s been a while but you have a memorable face my friend. Adder” he acknowledged Jasper’s smaller companion who had now arrived, offering his hand again. Adder took it and shook briefly, his sharp featured face a stretched in a worried grimace.
“I was trying to tell this great ox that maybe you didn’t want him drawing attention to you Sir” he apologised, turning to shoot an exasperated stare at his companion. Jasper ignored it and turned his attention to Jerren instead.
“Well met Lad” he said, offering his hand in turn to Jerren. Jerren stood up and accepted it gingerly, expecting his own to be crushed but to his surprise the man’s grip was firm but not painful. “I’m Jerren” he managed to stammer and Jasper nodded as if this was something he already knew. Adder meanwhile had taken a seat beside Dintaga and was speaking urgently to him. Jerren and Jasper took their own stools and leaned in to hear what the little man was saying.
“…it’s not official of course. But the Prince’s cronies made it pretty plain that anyone assisting in finding you and returning you for court martial could expect a handsome reward. He was furious when you escaped Balthrar and it held it up as final proof of your collusion with the enemy.”
“I was a hostage” said Dintaga mildly. “My ransom was posted and the Prince refused to pay it. The Dromhazi treated me honourably in the two years that I was there and in all that time they never even asked my opinion on any military matters, let alone the specific details of our campaign.”
“The men all knew you’d never sell us out,” rumbled Jasper “but after Five Gulleys we took a pounding at Remhek, Dossaldar and Vahajdeh. Damn near lost Lothmarr as well, would have done if it hadn’t been for the Conmarr Fifth. The Prince needed an excuse and I guess a captured Colonel of the Hember First was the best he could come up with.”
“The Dromhazi told me as much. They were amused that the Prince could not admit that he had simply been beatenfair and square. I didn’t fancy my chances when Balthrar was captured so I slipped out in the confusion.”
“With all due respect to your fine military mind Sir” said Adder, sounding anything but respectful “What in the seven hells are you doing travelling North? A few more days and you’ll be in Hember itself!”
“I’m well aware of that” a slight frown betraying his irritation “and I have my reasons.”
“Who’s the boy?” asked Jasper, nodding in Jerren’s direction.
“A travelling companion” said Dintaga, apparently content to omit the manner of their meeting. Jerren was grateful.
“You do know that as soon as a patrol of Royals pick you up you’re headed for the deepest cell in Hember castle, and that your ‘travelling companion’ will probably be tortured by some of the finest exponents of the craft?” asked Adder caustically.
“There is little risk of that, although it is a risk that may now be growing” Dintaga said, glancing at Jasper who half shrugged an apology. “I have been out of circulation for over two years. The warrants may be fresh but my appearance is different. And as you rightly conclude, the South Road is a foolish route for me to follow and few would expect it.”
A shadow fell across the table. Jerren looked up, expecting to see the barmaid with their drinks but instead a man stood there, just close enough to get their attention. Adder started as he noticed him and Jasper’s eye’s widened in surprise. Even Dintaga looked unsettled, the man had seemed to appear from nowhere.
“Colonel Addruss” he said quietly, looking directly at Dintaga. “My master would like to speak with you.” He nodded to the rear wall where several doors stood closed. “Alone” he added.
“’Dintaga’ - hardly a good example of your legendary flair and imagination Colonel.”
Dintaga returned the man’s mocking gaze with a cool glare of his own. Had he been in the common room he would have picked him out immediately - with his colourful silks and ridiculously overbuckled boots (currently crossed on the table top) the man would look more at home in a noble court than a wayside hostelry.
A week later Jerren and Dintaga reached the southern border of Fedden Barony and stopped for the night at a large coaching inn. A fresh looking palisade of sharpened logs surrounded the buildings and armed men stood watch by the gate. It seemed clear that the troubles in the outer baronies were being felt closer to Hember as well.
Jerren felt less awkward with a sword at his belt now - at first it had conspired to constantly trip him up or bang painfully against his shin. Every night before they ate Dintaga had drilled him in the basic forms of Lithian sword combat. His weapon was curved, designed to allow the wielder to slash downwards from the saddle unlike the straight blades used by the infantry. Dintaga had told him that it mattered very little for learning basic techniques, and Jerren had a feeling that on this basis it would be a while before he needed a straight blade of his own.
Dintaga's own swords were a matched pair, far more ornate than his own but no less deadly looking for all that. Whereas his weapon had a simple black iron hand guard protecting a worn leather hand grip Dintaga's were adorned with flaring teardrop traceries of interlaced metal strands that looked far too delicate to protect the hand beneath. The grips too were wrapped in fine chain and when he had asked permission to pick one up he had been amazed at the lightness and balance of the slim blade. Afterwards his own sword had felt clumsy in his grip, as if he was reduced to waving around a deadwood branch.
The gate guards let them through without comment, although Jerren felt a slight chill at their humourless, assessing gazes and was glad to hurry through into the noisy bustle of the tack yard. Within the palisade the atmosphere was bright and busy, a striking contrast to the oppressive night beyond the walls. The two storeys of the inn flanked two sides of the stone flagged yard with a third taken up by thatched stables. These were only half full, and Jerren found himself wondering how much busier the inn would seem if they were full - it was already on a par with the press of the Assak market and this was just the courtyard.
Stepping across the threshold brought them directly into the main common room. Low tables with rough wooden benches and stools were packed in on the straw dusted wooden floor, seemingly too close to allow passage between them although bar staff transported laden trays from table to table with apparent ease. A hundred drink-fuelled conversations combined into a single omnipresent roar - Jerren could just about make out a group of mintrels playing in the corner through the smoke but he doubted that even those on the closest tables could hear their music.
Dintaga paused near the door and looked around the room, hand resting lightly upon one sword pommel. As he did so a young woman ducked around a table to stand in fornt of them, hair coming loose from under her bonnet and barmaid’s apron in dissarray but a welcoming smile on her face despite her evident haste.
“Good evening gentlemen” she curtsied quickly. “Follow me please.” Jerren started stupidly after her retreating form as she turned and vanished back into the crowded room - it was the first time anyone had ever referred to him as a ‘gentleman’. But Dintaga headed after her without a pause, doing his usual crowd-clearing trick as he did so and Jerren was able to hurry after them with relative ease. Near the back of the room they stopped, their guide having performed the minor miracle of finding a small table with several free stools.
“Ale” said Dintaga, passing her a sliver coin. “And we will want lodging - a private room if you have it…” The girl seemed about to reply when suddenly a huge voice cut through the background roar.
“Colonel!”
Jerren looked about in confusion - to be heard above the hubbub the speaker must be close by but he could not see whom it might have been. Then he noticed a man standing up fully halfway across the room. He was broad shoulders and of such a height that his bearded head was ducked slightly to avoid the roof beams. His dark clothing was reinforced with leather patches that Jerren’s few days of sword drill told him would protect many of a swordsman’s vulnerable areas. And he was staring in their direction.
Dintaga paid the man no heed and sent the barmaid off to complete their order, apparently oblivious to the disturbance and the fact that the background conversations had reduced in volume slightly as people on nearby tables looked around in surprise. As he watched the huge man’s companion reached up and tugged at the giant’s elbow, apparently trying to get him to sit down. He was dressed similarly but physically they were completely different, the second man being a slight fellow with receding hair cut close to his scalp. Hi beard seemed patchy despite being neatly cut. The big man pulled his arm away from the other’s grip and set off across the room directly towards their table, pushing carelessly past several other patrons on his way over. Anyone who thought to complain took one look and rapidly changed their minds. After a moment the second man got up and followed, a worried look on his face.
As he reached their table Dintaga looked up and smiled. “Jasper” he said, standing to grasp the man’s hand and shake it firmly. His face had been unreadable but now the giant called Jasper broke into a wide grin that shone through his bushy beard like a summer half moon.
“You remembered Colonel” he said in a voice only marginally quieter than the one he had used to call across the common room, his pleasure plain for the world to see.
“Of course - it’s been a while but you have a memorable face my friend. Adder” he acknowledged Jasper’s smaller companion who had now arrived, offering his hand again. Adder took it and shook briefly, his sharp featured face a stretched in a worried grimace.
“I was trying to tell this great ox that maybe you didn’t want him drawing attention to you Sir” he apologised, turning to shoot an exasperated stare at his companion. Jasper ignored it and turned his attention to Jerren instead.
“Well met Lad” he said, offering his hand in turn to Jerren. Jerren stood up and accepted it gingerly, expecting his own to be crushed but to his surprise the man’s grip was firm but not painful. “I’m Jerren” he managed to stammer and Jasper nodded as if this was something he already knew. Adder meanwhile had taken a seat beside Dintaga and was speaking urgently to him. Jerren and Jasper took their own stools and leaned in to hear what the little man was saying.
“…it’s not official of course. But the Prince’s cronies made it pretty plain that anyone assisting in finding you and returning you for court martial could expect a handsome reward. He was furious when you escaped Balthrar and it held it up as final proof of your collusion with the enemy.”
“I was a hostage” said Dintaga mildly. “My ransom was posted and the Prince refused to pay it. The Dromhazi treated me honourably in the two years that I was there and in all that time they never even asked my opinion on any military matters, let alone the specific details of our campaign.”
“The men all knew you’d never sell us out,” rumbled Jasper “but after Five Gulleys we took a pounding at Remhek, Dossaldar and Vahajdeh. Damn near lost Lothmarr as well, would have done if it hadn’t been for the Conmarr Fifth. The Prince needed an excuse and I guess a captured Colonel of the Hember First was the best he could come up with.”
“The Dromhazi told me as much. They were amused that the Prince could not admit that he had simply been beatenfair and square. I didn’t fancy my chances when Balthrar was captured so I slipped out in the confusion.”
“With all due respect to your fine military mind Sir” said Adder, sounding anything but respectful “What in the seven hells are you doing travelling North? A few more days and you’ll be in Hember itself!”
“I’m well aware of that” a slight frown betraying his irritation “and I have my reasons.”
“Who’s the boy?” asked Jasper, nodding in Jerren’s direction.
“A travelling companion” said Dintaga, apparently content to omit the manner of their meeting. Jerren was grateful.
“You do know that as soon as a patrol of Royals pick you up you’re headed for the deepest cell in Hember castle, and that your ‘travelling companion’ will probably be tortured by some of the finest exponents of the craft?” asked Adder caustically.
“There is little risk of that, although it is a risk that may now be growing” Dintaga said, glancing at Jasper who half shrugged an apology. “I have been out of circulation for over two years. The warrants may be fresh but my appearance is different. And as you rightly conclude, the South Road is a foolish route for me to follow and few would expect it.”
A shadow fell across the table. Jerren looked up, expecting to see the barmaid with their drinks but instead a man stood there, just close enough to get their attention. Adder started as he noticed him and Jasper’s eye’s widened in surprise. Even Dintaga looked unsettled, the man had seemed to appear from nowhere.
“Colonel Addruss” he said quietly, looking directly at Dintaga. “My master would like to speak with you.” He nodded to the rear wall where several doors stood closed. “Alone” he added.
“’Dintaga’ - hardly a good example of your legendary flair and imagination Colonel.”
Dintaga returned the man’s mocking gaze with a cool glare of his own. Had he been in the common room he would have picked him out immediately - with his colourful silks and ridiculously overbuckled boots (currently crossed on the table top) the man would look more at home in a noble court than a wayside hostelry.