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Sir Gust De Weer
‘Raven of Dawn’
A Vulture’s Funeral | Quiet mornings
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A day before the ides of Sextus (14th) 195 NC
Blackcrow’s Pillar
Duke Ruud De Weer’s funeral
Sebastian Leiche, the embalmer and mortician, who had worked on Ruud’s body ‘well after its expiration date’ as he had told them, had insisted to use a closed casket. Having Ruud’s corpse on a slab in front of the Others altar, the small hall was located next to the throne room inside Blackcrow’s Pillar, had diverted the visitors from the main hall, but kept them close enough for the whole month of mourning.
The usually very quiet citadel was now packed and feeling overcrowded. With so many people asking to see the emaciated and blackened body of the dead duke, they had decided to keep the coffin lid open for expediency.
So the stench of Ruud’s corpse, despite the work done to it, reached the main hall through the open doors. With no windows and a single opening –the one created for the crows- the now remodeled for the wedding throne-room was better lit, but still oppressive to stay in.
It wasn’t their intention to push the funeral so far back, but the Queen wanted to use the opportunity –if it was possible- to have prominent people come for the wedding by using the other event –the funeral- as a pretext. This in turn leaked the news to the populace and outside the duchy. Surprisingly, a lot of people came to see the old Duke and the delay gave Rik the opportunity to open the catacombs and prepare a spot for their father.
Gust had found himself in the hands of the hawk-eyed Magnus-Klein Kalvenhaar, the fourth, a former Royal Tailor. Master Kalvenhaar was a refugee, having escaped Issir’s Eagle to reach Scaldingport and a sympathizer of the rebel queen. Erroneously believing this latter detail would have given him some type of leverage with the Crows, he petitioned the late Lord Ruud for a good position in his court, but the distrustful old Duke had him ‘work his way to a better salary’ instead, via mending worn-out furniture covers at a local carpenter for months. Elsanne had discovered the struggling tailor there and had brought him to Blackcrow’s Pillar.
“Breathe out Lord Gust,” Kalvenhaar repeated with his mouth full of needles and safety pins, whilst working the measuring tape around Gust’s chiseled broad chest. “This can’t be right. I’ll have to do it again.”
“Just write it down,” Gust grunted, with a glare at the chuckling Elsanne.
“We favored something tight mister Kalvenhaar, so this fit is fine,” she told the frowned tailor. “I think the red one is also lovely.”
“I won’t wear a red doublet,” Gust protested.
“It’s a short redingote,” Elsanne corrected him.
“It’s still red.”
“How about the white one?” Kalvenhaar offered. He’d prepared a number of ‘proper’ attires for him in a few short weeks.
“Anything in grey?” Gust probed. “I’ve a robe and can fit my armour underneath.”
“You look huge in it, so no. How about the black with a red shirt?” Elsanne countered. “It will match our own dress.”
Gust stared at the smiling coyly Queen. “Can we see the dress?”
“Only the color we can divulge.”
“Which is?”
“A light purple.”
Ah. “I’ll take the black.”
“We appreciate it,” Elsanne teased in a light-hearted manner. “What troubles our Lord Gust?”
Gust grimaced accepting a shirt from Kalvenhaar and made to reply, but Jasi brought his sister inside the queen’s quarters before he could. The eunuch had a red buttoned doublet on with lace at the sleeves, worn right over his bright-yellow tunic that matched a pair of large, gold loop earrings adorning his ears.
He looked like a fat peacock pretending to be a human.
“Queen Elsanne,” Janneke greeted. She was dressed in a plain black, very modest, summer dress and gave a small nod at the discomforted Gust, who attempted to wear the shirt, but failed under the tailor’s grabby encouragement. “Red is a bold choice big brother.”
“Father wore red,” Gust retorted defensively and slapped Kalvenhaar’s hands away.
“My lord!” The tailor protested caustically. “There’s no need for violence.”
“Rest assured, you’ll feel it when I get violent,” Gust grunted, whilst wrestling with the sleeves of the tight shirt.
“What can we do for our Queen Sister?” Elsanne asked politely. The Queen usually did that when she was expecting trouble.
“We’d like to return to Forestfort,” Janneke replied evenly. “The children are better off there. Scaldingport is too crowded.”
“I talked with Sir Rik,” Elsanne started. “We feel the family must stay together.”
You do?
“Rik is to be the next duke,” Janneke started and paused to glance at Gust, who had snapped one of the buttons on the shirt in his attempt to close it.
Damnation!
“Of course. Sir Gust is our partner and future husband. He’ll rule Kaltha with us.”
“Who will rule in Forestfort?” Janneke asked point blank and Gust frowned. He stared at the top of the tailor’s head, as Kalvenhaar had rushed close to repair the button with needle and thread.
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“Ruud had followed the old rules for sixty years. Nobody else does. It’s a tradition only seen in Eplas, but not in Jelin. Typically the title goes to a baron and his kin after that,” Elsanne replied with a glance at a papyrus Jasi opened up for her. “I like the pattern,” she told him and the Eunuch nodded. “Ruud had declared the De Weer next in line for the barony. Rik had this title for many years. Is that correct?”
“It is your majesty,” Janneke replied. “The next in line, male, or female.”
“Umm,” Elsanne murmured. “Rik shall rule the duchy. For the barony we haven’t decided yet. He mentioned you. But you don’t intend to marry again, as I understand.”
“I was wed to a king,” Janneke replied frostily. “I shall honor his memory.”
“A noble gesture, but Jeremy was a foreign king.”
“I recall her majesty was wed to the Khanate,” Janneke argued.
Elsanne nodded and Gust stared at the listening Kalvenhaar’s face with the tailor returning his glance knowingly. “But I had no kids.”
Gust furrowed his brows.
“My children are Crows,” Janneke retorted pursing her mouth.
“Of course,” Elsanne agreed. “Will there be anything else?” She asked dismissively and Janneke stood back with a blank expression that hid her frustration. It was a skill his sister possessed.
“Lady Lissane requested an audience.”
“We are aware,” Elsanne replied. “The matter is resolved.”
“Lady Lissane wishes to sit next to my father’s body,” Janneke pointed out.
“Riet Kaiser has as much right as her,” Elsanne replied. “So does Ellen of Forestfort, I believe. They were the Duke’s named mistresses.”
“Lady Lissane just lost her father,” Janneke argued with a purse of her mouth.
“Aren’t you uncomfortable by this request?” Elsanne asked her.
“My father did right by me, I shan’t judge him on the day of his funeral. Lissane is of a higher standing,” Janneke said. “And it is polite not to refuse the request of a widow in mourning of her father.”
“A disloyal woman,” Elsanne retorted. “Can hardly make any requests. Her soul’s weight on the scales that of a feather. Are these not Uher’s commands?”
“Eh,” Gust grunted not liking their back and forth.
“My father didn’t follow Uher’s words,” Janneke replied tensely. “But Sir Stans Reuten was killed following your orders,” his sister added. “Your majesty.”
“Our mind is made up,” Elsanne puffed out. “It was lovely talking to you sister.”
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“Ard De Moss is heading to Even Fork,” Gust grunted, the moment his solemn sister departed. Elsanne made a gesture for him to stop talking.
“Mister Kalvenhaar give us a moment,” she told the tailor. “This is a lovely morning, the crows quiet, but still we need a moment of extra privacy.”
“Your grace,” Kalvenhaar yielded and bowed his head. “Lord Gust.”
Elsanne waited for him to exit and waved for Sir Roland Klaas to stay at the door.
“There are rumors this wasn’t a simple setback,” Gust rustled, when the queen turned to face him. “Duke Basten turned around at Rusted and headed back.”
“Robert controls the road and the bridge at Boar’s Horn,” Elsanne replied and walked near the frowned Gust. She reached to iron out the shirt on his chest with both hands. “Boss is still at Bach’s Tower. That’s still in Colle.”
“Duchess Leonie wouldn’t miss Ruud’s funeral,” Gust insisted. “De Braal cleared this without consulting Rik.”
“The Shield informed me,” Elsanne replied. “After the wedding we shall deal with this.”
“You can’t stand De Braal,” Gust grunted.
“No, you can’t. I just want him to listen and he’s clever enough to know this.” Elsanne countered.
“You can’t trust Ruud’s people. They are loyal to him,” Gust stopped, as the queen had placed her hand over his mouth.
“Ruud is dead. Rik isn’t the new Duke yet, but he’ll be on the morrow,” she told him soothingly.
“Why not honor Janneke with the barony? She’s next in line,” Gust argued hoarsely.
“She’ll name Alistair her successor immediately. Rik won’t run things like Ruud did,” Elsanne replied with a pout. “I can see them scheming. You heard her, she won’t remarry.”
What are you talking about?
“They are not… Rik is just very close to Janneke,” Ruud grunted in frustration.
“Even so, Alistair is still an Alden. I won’t give Lucius a pretext to move closer, right at our border. They had agreed to take Timberville, but I won’t allow it. Not after they killed Jeremy. Two officers they sent for the funeral. A Holt amongst them. Lucius must think us fools,” Elsanne snapped, then made a face. “Why are you attacking me?”
“I’m not… Elsanne,” Gust insisted and then let out a deep breath. “You can’t run the duchy in this manner. You shouldn’t interfere with the duke’s decisions. What about Lissane?”
“You should thank me for that. Janneke also.”
“Do it after the funeral,” Gust suggested. “I don’t care for her, but she’s Sir Jan Reuten’s older sister. A mother figure to him.”
“Oh, she’s motherly alright,” Elsanne hissed and clenched both her fists on his chest. “Rik can do as he pleases, but I must agree beforehand.”
“What did you promise De Braal?” Gust asked raspingly. “They listen to the Raven’s whispers—”
“Your raven. I know all about their religion.”
“Elsanne,” Gust grunted. “You don’t know what you’re stepping into.”
“Aren’t you my raven?” Elsanne asked with a pout. “I don’t have a problem with you.”
Nothing surer to shrivel a man’s cock, his dead father had said from his throne. But a couple of entitled monks bursting into his hall. Right son?
“I follow Tyeus teachings and Ruud had no lines he didn’t cross,” Gust replied gruffly. “But don't be fooled to think someone controls Bugs. This is a special place.”
“We are tired of this argument,” Elsanne stopped him.
“I’d like to read Robert’s full message,” Gust insisted stubbornly.
“Jasi do we have it still?” Elsanne queried and the eunuch nodded. Gust had forgotten about him and Jasi had somehow blended into the background. “There. Will you hug your queen now?” She asked with a small pout turning to look at Gust, her large jade-colored eyes blinking slowly.
Sir Gust clenched his jaw to combat her considerable charms, but it was already very difficult to resist the pretty queen of Kaltha back when she was but an immature teenager. In this time and in her prime of womanhood, Elsanne was beyond appealing.
So Gust didn’t.
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> Prefect ‘Iron’ Rufius Valens report (of the 4th Legion, then in command of two Cohorts stationed in Sadofort) about his official visit to Scaldingport –in the early summer of 195- to attend the famed late Grand Duke’s funeral, is today classified for some reason. Then Optio ‘Milord’ Damian Holt’s report (of the 1st Legion, which was still defending the great lakes, with himself stationed outside Sadofort) is also kept by the Duke of Asturia, but some of it has leaked in the last couple of years. It gave the well-known separate events (erroneously recorded as a single one by some) a rather supernatural flavor.
>
> Damian Holt, a very dry, boring and rule-driven officer, just like his father Lord Robart Holt, wasn’t prone to exaggerations and his words –if true- change the established perception about the culprits, or whether the Queen could have handled matters better. As the ancient Sir Stefan De Braal had commented in his deathbed.
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> ‘You never arrange a wedding right after an important funeral. If placed too-close together, the same guests might opt to attend both events. Those aggrieved in the first -much as people oft are- might express their grievances in the latter, especially after a couple of goblets.
>
> Or create enough of a scene, to give opening for something more sinister to occur.’
>
>