No unworthy thought,
For the sweet lady of Kaletha Gulf
This psalm shall be enough
Endless, bereft o’ falsehood words
Shrill notes played from these cords
This here promise and this here thought,
To the prying Five and the wicked Allgods
Hands ‘n hearts tied in a bridal knot
No unworthy thought
Traditional Issir melody (also a wedding song)
Unknown composer
-
----------------------------------------
Sir Gust De Weer
Lord Prince Consort
‘Raven of Dawn’
What about Ellen?
----------------------------------------
“Couldn’t fit a proper piece of mail over that?” a familiar voice chimed in. Gust, dressed sharply in his black and red vest over a redingote, turned to see Rik find his way towards the altar that stood before the stone throne. Sir Nootveld, adorned in long –and clean- priestly robes for the occasion, regarded the newly minted Duke with a stern gaze.
“I feel like I’m towering over the queen,” Gust grumbled, shooting a glance at his smirking brother.
“Who doesn’t?” Rik chuckled, trying to maintain a semblance of decorum. “At least the royal package is impressive, Lord Prince.”
“Duke Rik, nobody asked for yer opinion,” a peeved Gust retorted with a hint of mockery. “Is this your spare hunting outfit per chance? This is a wedding, you know.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed it from your posture my lord.”
“What’s wrong with my posture?”
Rik sighed at Gust’s gruffness, then looked down the front of the new –roomy- leather jacket and puffed out his chest in frustration. “My entire left side still hurts. I couldn’t squeeze into anything tighter,” he admitted, taking a deep breath. “This feels a bit surreal, doesn’t it?”
Attending a wedding so soon after their father’s funeral was his meaning.
“More for me than you,” Gust grunted and Nootveld glared at them both. “I guess Nootveld too,” Gust added with a peek at the musicians squeezed at the east corner of the hall five meters from the throne. “Not something one can dream, or predict aforehand.”
“It’s a nice outfit at least,” Rik replied with a half-smile and turned around hearing commotion from the filled with chairs main hall. A bigger crowd than the other day had been gathered inside Blackcrow’s Pillar. With free food and drinks offered outside, a lot of locals had gathered to see the queen arrive as well. Elsanne was there already, but had left very early in the morning for the wedding ceremony with Lord Mikel De Weer, so she could made her ‘official entry’ to the citadel through the crowd after circling back with her carriage. Based on the cheering coming from outside, Elsanne had arrived. A long carpet had been placed in the middle of the main hall creating a corridor for her, pushing chairs and ‘important’ guests to the sides, and making the hall appear even more crowded. This despite all the doors leading to the smaller west hall opened.
Through them one could see Ruud’s closed casket -still on its rectangular stone slab- and the many crows that had found refuge there.
“Here’s your wedding gift,” Rik added and Ruud took a small gold bracelet his brother held out for him. “Tyeus spear on Uher’s golden disk,” Rik expounded with a grin directed at the inflexible priest knight watching them. “Remember, you’re supposed to give it to her.”
“Um,” Gust grunted not taking the bait, keeping his eyes on the expecting first rows of guests briefly. His attention was drawn at two huffing and puffing musicians who carried a stringed triangular instrument on the stage with great difficulty, the large harp towering over both sweaty men.
“A harp,” Rik replied watching the musicians preparing. Rory, or Roy for his friends, had hired eight additional local instrument players the previous week. Three of them played flutes, a couple of lutes and the rest this big harp they had set up. “Here comes the lady of Kaletha Gulf,” his brother added, just as the Issir bard started plucking at the taut cords the ancient Issir melody.
Elsanne entered and then paused at the open main doors. She carried a bouquet of very-deep purple Dahlias in front of her, while her long white and also purple dress left her dainty shoulders uncovered, before flaring up at the hips. The Queen’s sheer white veil extended some meters behind her and was carried by a hat-less Mutiny Carter in a blue dress, a rarity unto itself and five local bridesmaids. The pirate woman had arrived with the Pillager days prior. Sir Roland Klaas stood to Elsanne’s left, with Baron Mikel De Weer occupying her right side.
“There’s a picture,” an impressed Rik commented amidst the music –the flutes had joined the harp- and Roy gave it his best from the stage to hum the known words out in the traditional high-pitched tone, with the help of two more bards.
No unworthy thought, for the sweet lady of Kaletha Gulf…
Yeah, the numb Gust agreed caught in the moment, shaved square jaw relaxing at her lovely sight. Then with another failed attempt at a deep breath –she was fighting a brutally tight corset- Elsanne started walking down the aisle towards them.
Shrill notes birthed from these cords, Roy sang with eyes closed, three bards humming in the background like Uher’s choir, pirates hollering and even the reserved Issir lords in the front row, or the arrogant Lorian officers next to them, now smiling.
This here promise and this here thought…
> Eyes wide open in horror at first, their color that of precious jade formed alike jewels, then filled with the hope of salvation.
>
> Underneath a touch of excitement for the close call.
Gust blinked to clear his vision and the smiling princess still stood there in front of him.
Now a queen, but still Elsanne.
“Lord Veer, may we step forward?” Elsanne asked nervously examining his face and Gust cracked his mouth open, barely managed to get a couple of words out.
“You may.”
“Good grief Gust,” Rik whispered from the sides sounding relieved. “I thought you changed yer mind.”
“Never,” Gust grunted and moved aside for the blushing Elsanne to step on the small custom altar. When she did, Gust gave her the gold bracelet, taking the time to lock it on her wrist carefully. Elsanne smelled of fresh roses and sweet citrus from the bouquet she carried.
“You made this for me?” Elsanne asked behind the veil.
“A jeweler did,” Gust murmured still wrestling with the darn clasp. “On my orders,” Gust added when he succeeded.
“My tender and solemn knight,” Elsanne gushed much moved at his stubborn efforts.
Or the gift.
“Praised be the mighty warrior God Tyeus,” Mart Nootveld cut in with a scowl and a warning glare at the enthusiastic musicians that were dragging out the instrumental portion of the bridal song, as if to milk the crowd’s reaction. “In peace and in conflict he stands without prejudice and any sentiment.”
“We don’t need that part priest, this isn’t a liturgy,” Gust rustled and Elsanne added in a softer manner.
“We have plenty of sentiment,” and clasped at his hand with hers.
Nootveld thought about it for a moment, decided Tyeus didn’t much care for prolonging a wedding ceremony, especially when a campaign was afoot and with his gaunt face contorting, he proceeded with the common words of matrimonial bonding.
Gods heed this promise, for neither shall walk alone henceforth.
In times of sadness and at moments of triumph hereby we declare and repeat.
I Gust, second of my name, son of Duke Ruud… the line of the De Weer of Scaldingport and the Veer of ancient Ikete… take Queen Elsanne, the first of her name, daughter of King Theun… the line of Eikenaar and the Great Reinut…
“Of Bear Isle,” Elsanne corrected the paused priest and then glanced at the silent hall behind her with a naughty smile. “Where the brotherhood roamed,” she added and from somewhere far back, the east side of the split hall erupted from the many pirate crews present that had sneaked inside Blackcrow’s Pillar for the event.
“Also known as Anne Burton, our pirate sister,” a beaming Mutiny Carter expounded. She was still holding the long veil behind them.
“You better get yer vows out fast,” Nootveld warned Gust. “And don’t ask me to repeat them.”
-
> No sooner than Lord Ruud’s funeral ended -with the Duke’s body still present, but inside its casket fortunately- Queen Elsanne wed herself to Sir Gust De Weer, the famed knight and Ruud’s firstborn of sorts. The hale Sir Gust had to vacate the duchy’s seat to his brother, the one-eyed Sir Rik De Weer, another well-respected knight. The latter was sworn in between the funeral and the queen’s wedding, further blurring the lines of where the first event ended and the second ceremony started. Guests who had initially arrived to bid their farewell to the long-reigning duke, found themselves invited to Queen Elsanne’s crazy nuptials.
>
> With a boy already delivered out of wedlock in a sense, but not according to her, Elsanne was in a hurry to answer all questions raised against her claim. Gone was Prince Radin and their uncomfortable connection, with Sir Gust taking his place at her side and already a male heir (slightly injured) available, not much younger than Lord Anker’s own Eikenaar offspring, who had a bit of murky origins himself to say the least.
>
> The Queen was right to be hasty according to several sources, as just before she could get Ruud’s funeral and her own wedding out of the way, Walter Van Oord’s and Robert Van Durren’s foray towards the occupied port of Colle had been stopped with a devastating loss. Her allied armies were pushed back, barely holding on to Khan’s Landing and the road from Boar’s Horn River, but the triumphant Horselords just couldn’t deliver the final blow. Plagued by attrition from constant campaigning and the loss of Lord Jorah later that week against Robert’s spears, they asked the Khan for more reinforcements.
>
> While we will examine in the next chapter why this wasn’t to be for the Khan’s army, Elsanne’s hasty wedding instead of freeing her army’s hands, Castalor was desperate for reinforcements as well despite successful efforts to dispatch help to the injured Walter with Schalk, was to complicate matters even more.
>
> No help came from Scaldingport that summer and if not for Legatus Merenda’s earlier gambit threatening the Khan’s flank strategically, Timor and Garai might have had the men to attack Robert Van Durren’s mauled Eplas Foot, retake the bridge and turn their surprise win, after the early spring setback, into a triumph.
>
> For some historians another opportunity to win the war was lost there for the aging Khan Burzin.
-
Blackcrow’s Pillar main hall
Ides of Sextus 195 NC
The Queen’s Nuptials
Mutiny lost her hold on the Queen’s expensive bridal veil, right after Elsanne had discarded it to ‘kiss Gust proper’ given their difference in height, and the young bridesmaids fought for every inch of it, in the bedlam that followed Sir Nootveld’s final words. The pirate woman was pushed aside not expecting such passion for the lavish garment and Elsanne tossed her bouquet to her friend, which Mutiny Carter grabbed with both hands, a fierce smile in her face.
“Ye young thirsty wenches, better be taking a step back now,” a sobering up Mutiny warned the Issir girls and a number of older ladies ready to pounce on her. “Else I’ll bloody me knuckles on yer faces.”
“Mutiny,” Elsanne said, letting go of Gust. “This is a joyous moment dear. Let us have a toast instead of a boxing match, yes?”
Mutiny nodded, her face buried in the purple dahlias. “Anne’s wishes are a queen’s orders now,” she replied raising her voice and the bouquet in triumph, whilst scanning the room for potential suitors.
The pirates present roared in response and headed for the tables to be served, with the more prominent guests taking the chance to approach the couple in order to congratulate them from up close. It was a long affair Gust didn’t feel too comfortable with, seeing as he didn’t really like most of those present that much, and trusted them even less. With that said, the celebratory atmosphere right after a sober day and an even more difficult month, relaxed him a bit and the freshly wed Gust even thanked some of those congratulating him with a forced smile.
Half an hour into the ‘congrats’ and the ‘well-wishes’ of the guests Roy and his bandmates started testing the waters with a couple of wedding tunes. When that went well with those present, as it covered some of the ruckus of many people talking at once and the servants preparing the tables for the wedding dinner, Roy belted an instrumental rendition of his most famous song with a tiny mandolin. Elsanne caught the tune and started clapping with both hands, the large harp was carried away for a couple of tambourines and a lute to take its place, and the now dispersed mostly Issir crowd paused a little amused at the elated queen’s reaction.
“Is this a slow dancing song?” A grinning Rik asked his brother leaning in, just as the now emboldened Roy, who had set his painted with coal eyes on the young Mariska De Jaeger, signaled for the musicians to halt abruptly.
This action also prompted the crowd to quieten down unsure, just as Gust opened his mouth to deny it and Elsanne let out a cute little scream of joy. Roy started humming in a low baritone voice, clearly not his real one far as Gust was concerned, and the somehow already inebriated lute player accompanied the singer plucking at the same string monotonously.
“Here’s a tale to make yer heartstrings shiver, me lovelies,” Roy announced to the stunned, but for his elated brethren, audience. “O’ the time a pirate queen carved paths o’ silver.”
“What is this innate drivel?” A frowned Mikel De Weer queried aloud, but Elsanne who had already jumped from the small altar with a yelp escaping Gust’s sides, slapped the Baron on the chest with the back of her bejeweled hand, cutting his words short.
“Brothers ‘n sisters be gathering a throne to deliver,” Roy continued with a wink at the royally clapping young queen, afore turning his eyes on the blushing Mariska. Gust furrowed his thick brows, fully aware that flirting with a Jaeger maiden was a dangerous ordeal historically, even more so given that the current Tongue’s patriarch was an unforgiving man, but Roy marched on undaunted. “From sandy Felmond… to the sources of the Comorego River!”
“Aye! Tell it Roy!” Mutiny roared brandishing her bouquet of dahlias. Rik started chuckling, Lord Mikel narrowed his eyes and the two Lorian officers glanced at each other meaningfully.
“Cups be clinging, everyone is singing,” Roy continued with extra passion. “Fair Anne… is in the plaguin’ building!”
“What was that?” Sir Nootveld grunted amidst the roaring cries of the crews present –mainly the Pillager’s- and a flushed Elsanne turned to face Gust who watched her from the altar.
“Dance with us dear husband,” the queen asked huskily and Gust, a man who hated dances of all kinds unless swords were involved, grimaced in obvious discomfort, clenched both fists tightly and then climbed down the few steps with heavy strides to oblige her.
----------------------------------------
After three lively dances, with Elsanne gracefully at the forefront and a panting Gust struggling to keep up, the exhausted knight decided to take a break, retreating to the sanctuary near the altar. Meanwhile, the indefatigable queen continued to cheer on Mutiny's amusing antics. The bards shifted to a selection of traditional melodies, enticing more ladies to fill the now-vacant center of the hall. A few knights seized the opportunity to refine their dance moves, though it was the elegantly attired women who dominated the floor. Most guests eventually returned to their newly arranged tables, eager to savor the exquisite wines sourced from the legendary cellar of the late Ruud.
Gust's gaze fell upon Sir Jan Reuten and Solt, who were seated beside Ron Bach and Lady Lissane at Baron Sigurd’s table. Katers was also present, but none of them seemed particularly thrilled by the festive atmosphere. Given the events that had unfolded in Colle earlier that month, Gust could hardly blame them. On the opposite side of the hall, a more boisterous crowd gathered, alongside the seasoned courtesan Ellen of Forestfort and his squire, Axel Mudriver. The Lorians—Valens and Holt—remained aloof from the revelry, quietly sipping their wine while observing the predominantly Issir and pirate guests with shrewd eyes. Captain Voges made a brief appearance at their table before drifting away toward the west hall doors, where Ruud’s casket lay in solemn repose.
With a whisper laced with intrigue, the perfumed Jasi leaned in close to Gust, his voice dripping with feigned spontaneity.
“Word has it in court,” he murmured, “Ellen’s son is your squire.”
Gust’s brows knitted together, his dark eyes shifting back to the serious faces of the Issir squire and Ellen.
“What are you saying?”
“Just some gossip,” Jasi replied with a playful smirk. “I have a knack for it.”
“Axel is Ellen’s son?” Gust grunted, the realization hitting him hard.
Ruud’s bastard?
Another?
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Either that, or he has developed a taste for older women in certain frowned upon professions. In Kaltha. Regia fakes it better. Anyways, it’s not uncommon. He was seen visiting her chambers last night,” Jasi continued, his tone remaining light. “I can’t say I blame him; she’s quite captivating. Mileage is a skill unto itself,” upon seeing Gust’s scowl deepening he added quickly. “But I’m convinced the first option is the real story.”
“Elsanne?” Gust half-barked half-grunted.
“The queen knows,” Jasi assured him and Gust grimaced feeling a burning in his stomach. He glared at Axel across the room and the squire stood back in alarm. Ellen reached to cup his hand comfortingly and the small gesture revealed the truth of the eunuch’s words to the scowling Gust.
“How is it you learn of secrets so fast?” Gust growled under his breath and Jasi shrugged his shoulders. He was actually wearing a white corset over his green silk tunic, opened at the front and several pieces of jewelry.
“There’s no mystery my lord. Whilst I find myself missing a pair of balls, both my ears are in excellent condition,” the eunuch replied, struggling to sound meek and unpretentious, while both his ears sporting large gold and silver earrings weakened his argument. “Plus I had training since I was a boy, in courts more sophisticated than this. Don’t presume this lack of sophistication to mean our Queen’s palace is absent danger, Prince Consort.”
Gust cast a sober stare on the painted face of Jasi.
“You are looking to take Sigurd’s job?” Gust rustled.
“If the matter is to be raised,” Jasi replied calmly, his penciled eyes shining. “I’d like to count on the Prince’s support with the more bigoted parts of her court.”
“Um,” Gust retorted with a grunt and turned his eyes on Elsanne. She had just finished a goblet of wine, talking with Baron Mikel, who had offered the smiling queen another, grabbing more goblets from a roaming server hefting a platter. The alert Sir Roland Klaas was right there, shadowing Elsanne, and Gust allowed himself to relax.
“Lord Mikel wants to keep the treasurer’s job,” Jasi informed him.
“Ah,” Gust murmured with a grimace and walked off the stand to talk with Axel and his mother. He wasn’t pleased to be left in the dark by his squire. Axel had proved himself valuable and brave during their years on Eplas and later, but still Gust felt deceived. Three meters from the large group following the queen around, he paused hearing the mirthful Elsanne speak his name.
“Dear husband,” the queen said pointing at the couples dancing at the slower tune Roy’s band was playing. “We would favor another dance.”
Gust pursed his mouth. “My queen, I’m a terrible dancer,” he grouched hoarsely. “Even without the armor.”
Only the knights were armed for the event given how many people had attended.
“We may seek the Duke’s company then,” the lightly inebriated Elsanne warned with a smile. A peeved Gust glanced at his brother, who had just returned from swirling around with the giggling Patience.
“Eh,” Rik replied with a confident shrug. “Your highness, I promised my niece to stay loyal, but I would break her heart, if you insist.”
You smooth-talking mule.
“We won’t,” Elsanne replied and looked at Baron Mikel, who stood up straighter, afore she passed him to set her eyes on Sir Jan Reuten and Sigurd Bach’s table. “Sir Jan, I’ll need a partner.”
No.
Sigurd frowned and Baron Mikel blinked, whilst Sir Klaas stepped forward to intervene.
“Your grace. I volunteer,” her knight offered and Gust grimaced, when the light-headed Elsanne dismissed him.
“Roland, your sword will be in the way,” Elsanne said, which caused a stir from those listening in and then stared at the discomforted Sir Jan oblivious, but in a sterner manner.
“Queen Elsanne,” Gust rustled, just as Jan stood up from the table.
“Your highness,” Jan said measuring his words. “This is a month of mourning for us.”
“The funeral was last night,” Elsanne cut him off a little annoyed. “We’ve put it behind us Sir Jan.”
He’s not talking about Ruud dear wife, Gust thought, a nervous tick marring his face, as the guests stopped dancing and talking to observe the unfolding scene. The Queen’s involvement of course being the biggest draw for their interest.
“Uher dictates a month of mourning and Sir Stans was my father,” Jan reminded the slightly inebriated Elsanne. She hadn’t had that much to drink, but the queen was notoriously unpredictable in her alcohol tolerance and after her year of pregnancy, Elsanne had abstained from spirits for a while. “I’m an ordained knight and a grieving son.”
“Let’s have that dance,” Gust intervened raspingly from behind the small group in order to put an end to the embarrassing ordeal, but Lady Lissane stood up as well, an acerbic look on her face.
“While the queen dismissed the Five to favor the Others, the rest of us cannot,” the controversial widow and Jan’s older sister added.
“Lissane,” Sigurd hissed from his chair, whilst Elsanne blinked taken aback at the rebuke. “Sit down for the love of the Five!”
“You made it quite clear, we are not welcomed Baron Bach,” Lissane retorted without even looking his way. “I won’t listen to your words.”
“God’s damn it,” Sigurd cursed irate and grabbed her hand to pull her down, but Lissane shoved it away with a hiss. “You lost your mind?” Sigurd grunted, turning red in the face.
“At least I didn’t lose my spine Baron!” Lissane snapped and Gust clenched his jaw anxiously.
“You’ll insult your queen at her wedding?” A seething Elsanne spat, after recovering some from the shock. “What is your excuse Lady Lissane?”
“The queen insulted us beforehand,” Lissane retorted much to Sigurd’s chagrin.
“In what manner?” Elsanne queried and Gust let out a grunt, not wanting to interrupt the queen publicly. This matter shouldn’t be discussed in front of an audience.
“Ruud’s words weren’t meant to be a punishment inflicted upon me and my family,” Lissane blurted out, clenching her firsts. “But a deathbed apology for his many sins. How is this fair?”
“Sigurd acted on his own accord, within his rights,” Elsanne replied harshly. “How is it fair for you to take advantage of our hospitality?”
“That’s enough Lissane,” Rik intervened.
“I should dance after my father was killed at your orders? This is hospitality? Are these to be our customs now? A widowed daughter thrown in the streets with her children?” Lissane retorted, her eyes narrowing and Sigurd got up to lead her away, his chair clattering down behind and the goblets rattling on the table, but Ron put his hand on the Baron’s shoulder to prevent him from touching his mother. “Where is the same courtesy shown for my father, who had done nothing wrong, but serve your cause until his last breath?”
“I value Sir Stans sacrifice as much as anyone else’s,” Elsanne snapped, before catching herself. “But I don’t value you at all Lady Lissane. You reap what you sow, and your children are grown up,” she added, the crowd murmuring at her words and not everyone agreeing with her harsh tone.
“Perhaps in lieu of Sir Jan’s and her father’s service,” Rik said with a gesture to silence the noise of the crowd. “The queen will consider a lenient approach to Lady Lissane?” His brother added tensely.
Gust pushed Sir Klaas to clear the way and through the opening stared in Elsanne’s flushed face.
Fuck pride, his eyes urged the seething queen. Take a step back.
Strategically it would have been the right thing to do, but Elsanne was a monarch challenged and politics are less about sanity, and more about optics.
“What is it you want Lady Lissane?” Elsanne asked frostily and Lissane grimaced.
“I wish the spirit of the late Duke’s words realized,” she finally replied bravely.
Or perhaps it was desperation.
Gust tensed up, his eyes on the anxious Ron and two of his Colle buddies that were sitting a table away. They had stood up in all the commotion to back him up. Katers was also near the snarling Sigurd.
“You asked for Forestfort,” Elsanne said and the crowd gasped, none more interested than the two Lorian officers across the room, who had also stood up with interest to hear the queen’s words.
Fucking lackeys.
“Colle is no more,” Lissane replied and Sigurd hissed irate. “You declared the barony title vacated. The De Weer blood should rule there, you said.”
“You wish a title for your son?” Elsanne asked. “Which of the two?”
“The queen knows very well,” Lissane replied. “Baron Bach stripped Ron of his position.”
“Well, it couldn’t have been Sir Teun, since he is a Royal Knight serving under Lord Anker Est Ravn,” Elsanne added acerbically. “It’s a coveted title. What does Queen Sister Janneke think about this?” She asked and Gust furrowed his brows, not expecting Elsanne’s maneuver.
Are you doing this on purpose? He wondered and glanced left, then right to locate the Raven hearing the crows disturbed cries from the adjoined hall. His sister stood up holding the twins hands, Patience looking scared and Alistair scowling comically even more than Gust.
“I have the Duke’s protection and our queen’s familial friendship,” Janneke replied staring at the tongue-tied Gust intently. “I seek nothing more.”
Gods damn it Janneke, Gust thought, impressed by her skillful dodge.
“Then it is settled,” Lissane said relieved and Gust stared at Elsanne’s thoughtful face.
“Ruud named Riet Kaiser also. She’s with child,” Elsanne reminded the grimacing Lissane and those in the crowd not aware of late Ruud’s words, gasped in horror. Some faking it, and some honestly surprised. Baron Mikel just hanged his head in disappointment.
“Ron is older,” Lissane retorted and Elsanne nodded in agreement, a hint of naughtiness in her jade-colored eyes.
Don’t do it, Gust urged, finally understanding what the queen was trying to accomplish very publicly. Hamstringing Janneke and Rik, whilst securing Alistair wouldn’t get the barony. Not everyone is trained to maneuver rejection and humiliation with grace and forethought.
“What about Ellen?” She asked innocently and the watching Axel flinched, while his pale mother stood up gulping down from their distant table to acknowledge the queen’s stare. “You were Ruud’s mistress for years.”
“I ask for nothing your grace,” Ellen said bowing her head.
“Is that your boy?” Elsanne queried.
Ellen nodded, a hint of panic in her eyes. “He is.”
“She’s a known harlot! Uher’s Light curse her!” Lissane snapped and the ogling Sigurd went to restrain her, but Ron’s friends got in his way. The potential of a brawl mobilized Sir Stefan De Braal and his son, both men were armed with swords. They marched across the hall towards the Baron’s table and the seemingly stunned Elsanne, who responded to Lissane’s outburst austerely.
“When both mothers are harlots,” the queen declared for everyone to listen. “Then perhaps we should measure their offspring worth and cast the lesser aside. In this case, Ron is found lacking. Whilst he run from Colle to save his own life alike his father, Axel served my husband for years, asking for naught in return.”
“Elsanne,” Gust growled, but she gave him a reassuring glance.
No baby, he thought. You pushed them into a corner.
“Madness,” Lissane snapped angrily and Elsanne eyed her without pity.
“Axel is Ruud’s blood also and he shall rule the barony, if he swears fealty and that he’ll continue to serve us, with the same loyalty he has done in the past,” Elsanne declared. “What say you Axel, of Forestfort?”
“Your word is my command, your grace,” the flushed Axel replied raspingly.
“Good enough,” Elsanne decided. “Then it is done.”
“You two-faced witch!” Lissane hissed irate, but before she could advance on the Queen, Sigurd reached her with a backhand that split her lip and shut her up. Lissane dropped on the table, but Ron rushed the Baron and delivered a heavy punch that splattered Sigurd’s nose. Tables upturned as Katers managed to put Ron in a headlock briefly, then had a bottle broken on his head by one of the Colle men that had escorted the former mayor. Roland Klaas shoved Gust aside to shield the queen, and Rik jumped to his feet to do the same with Janneke and the twins, just as Sir De Braal arrived sword in hand.
Gust had recovered somewhat from Sir Klaas shove and made to get into the ever-expanding brawl, but his foot kicked a rolling goblet that had appeared out of nowhere. He almost went down. Gust found his footing with a curse, then sensed someone sneak up behind him and turned around on instinct, initially believing it was Jasi again.
But it wasn’t the eunuch.
> “You’ve sent the guards down,” the late Sir Mael noted, voice appreciative, now many years in the past.
>
> “Don’t want a man, standing behind me with a blade,” Gust had replied brusquely.
>
> “Your father’s man.”
>
> “Exactly.”
> A troubled Mojo-Lojo smacked his thick lips, the upper curling almost to his nose, to uncover yellow teeth. “Are you sure mate?” He asked the thoughtful Raven parked on the same branch the monkey was hanging upside down from.
>
> “It’s very close, so nay I’m not!” Bugs replied finally, soulless eyes blinking once annoyed. “Let it play out. Do not get involved arse-for-face!”
So Gust got a meter of blade stabbed between two of the upper ribs under his arm, past the expensive doublet and vest, through the right lung and out of the back. The blade was a sword, his father’s -left on top of Ruud’s closed casket, and the culprit wielding it Voges, who had sneaked inside the funeral hall to arm himself in the growing ruckus.
“Told him the old Crow is dead,” Voges droned dispassionately in Gust’s snarling face. “But Tin insisted.”
The seriously injured Gust, put a hand on Voges arm, the one the Issir tried to yank back and stopped him. Voges heaved hard taking Gust with him, both men stumbling back sideways, away from the scrap that had erupted inside the main hall and towards the dimly-lit west hall’s open doors. It was a strange dance this, more deadly, with Voges trying to get the blade out of Gust and the knight not letting him.
They tripped and dropped on a knee, past the last empty tables –everyone had rushed towards the queen- and Gust managed a brutal heave on the trapped arm that got the bone out of its shoulder joint. Voges faltered backwards through the open doors letting go of the blade and Gust pirouetted with a groan after him.
A gasp that sprayed blood from his clenched teeth and Gust found his vision blur in a dramatic fashion, as instead of air he breathed fluids and his own blood. Voges stood up, grabbed his shoulder with the other hand and punched the bone back in. Then came at the coughing up, blood-covered Gust again.
It was a mistake on the rogue officer’s part, as Gust had no way of reaching him. The injured knight put his weight on his left foot, the sword still buried in his chest and watched Voges approach. The officer had dug a kitchen knife out of his outfit, probably stolen earlier afore he’d located the Duke’s sword.
“Stay still,” Voges urged the snarling Gust, who didn’t, but intercepted the killer’s knife with a forearm and then swung his right fist with a maniacal growl of pain. Voges zygomatic bone caved in at the brutal punch, his left eyeball expelled from its socket and he was hurled sideways, crashing on the ground, not a meter from Ruud’s stone slab and the casket.
Gust stumbled forward, coughing up blood and feeling the blade moving in his chest, but swung again with his right arm at the rising Voges, in a backhand. The blow sent the rogue officer to crash on the stone slab pushing Ruud’s casket to the edge, but he recovered –with gore running down his face- and charged at Gust again.
Foolishly.
The Knight intercepted the officer and bodied him towards the stone slab again. Voges punched Gust’s jaw hard, knuckles crackling and opening the flesh at the snarling knight’s cheek, but Gust grabbed Voges’ face with his big left hand in turn –the knife still stuck in his beefy forearm and fat pinky finger digging inside the empty eye cavity for better purchase- heaved hard with a grunt of fury and then violently slammed Voges’s trapped head at the corner of the stone slab. The officer’s weakened cranium cracked, a large flap of skin and hair, with the right ear still attached to it, ripped away from the flesh and a large chunk of stone slab broke off at the corner, the sudden rattle causing Ruud’s casket to topple down the other side with a bang.
With a grunt of pain Gust faltered to a stop and then reached to get the knife out of his forearm. He tossed it away and then went for the custom longsword, grabbing the worn-out pommel with his left hand. Through his blurry vision, Gust spotted the mangled figure of Voges somehow rising up again, with copious amount of blood and mushed rosy brains leaking down his flattened nose.
How?
Yer losing more blood than him doofus. How about ye focus on that? A peeved Gust reminded himself and with a guttural growl started pulling the blade out of his chest. Voges reacted timely and faltered forward grabbing Gust’s wrist to shove the sword back in, both men wrestling for the weapon. Each moment doing more damage to the knight, who had most of the blade buried in his chest.
“Eh?” Voges rustled curious as they twisted about, when Gust kept fighting him for the possession of the sword. Just as the rogue officer was about to overcome Gust’s furious resistance, showing great resilience himself, Jasi’s painted face appeared over Voges’ left shoulder.
The eunuch stabbed a long bronze fork at the side of Voges’ neck with all his strength and a high-pitched scream of panic. This forced the officer to turn around, grab the yelping effeminate man by the neck –below the chin- then dig his bloody fingers in Jasi’s fleshy neck strangling him.
“Bald ugly girl,” Voges mumbled lifting the screaming Jasi clean off of his feet and Gust, who had bought himself a couple of seconds, snapped into action without a second thought.
If you can think, you can act.
A brutal yank and the sword got freed from his bleeding chest, as the knight took a forward step to close the distance with the pair and slash vertically with the sword, starting low then rising.
The blade severed Voges’ arm right at the elbow joint -a clean cut, an ogled Jasi went down holding the detached part of it –with fingers still wrapped around his neck and just as the indifferent at the loss of a limb officer twisted about to face the knight, Ruud’s old longsword came back down alike a cleaver.
Gust used no skill, but every ounce of strength he’d left was poured into the hack. The steel blade caught Voges right at the misshapen, bulging forehead, split the weakened bone, pulverized what was left of the officer’s brains and kept on cutting downwards. Rushed down his face that got torn asunder, through the chin and the neck, where it split the esophagus, the larynx and finally shattered Voges’ trachea, afore it wedged itself at the flat sternum bone.
“Oh, my goodness!” the eunuch exclaimed, his voice filled with dread. “What a nightmare!”
“Eargh,” Gust let out a low growl, blood oozing from his mouth as he gasped for air, struggling to stay conscious.
“Lord Prince!” The eunuch shouted, his eyes widening in alarm as he saw Gust’s condition deteriorate. He rushed to his side, ready to assist.
“Elsanne…” Gust managed to rasp, blood splattering onto Jasi’s terrified face as he clutched the eunuch’s shoulder for support. “…Move idiot!”
“She’s safe!” Jasi shouted back, desperately trying to manage the weight of the injured knight. “HELP! SOMEBODY! THE LORD PRINCE IS HURT!” His hysterical cries were cut short by Gust’s labored, gurgling voice.
“If… you can scream like a bitch…” Gust grunted, teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, or death. “…you can… move. So… get going afore… I bleed out.”
-
> Right before dinner, but after the wedding had finished and probably heavy drinking had started, the Queen rejoiced in a rendition of a pirate shanty, now quite famous, performed by Roy, or ‘Rory Smooth’ (surely a moniker) and the Purser band. The song turned into a ‘proper dance’ according to some of the witnesses, with the queen dancing with her husband and many of the guests joining in. With the spirits inside the main hall high, the queen approached Sir Jan Reuten, Lady Lissane Reuten’s younger brother was a bachelor, and asked him for a dance.
>
> Sir Jan refused politely according to most witnesses, but Lady Lissane took offense at the Queen’s perceived callousness (they were both mourning for the loss of their father Sir Stans Reuten at Colle) and disregard for tradition. Now, the Five do ask for a month of mourning this is true, but it is also rarely fully followed by most, especially in Regia. Mainly the Issir nobility are those known to drag it out. Elsanne after she had just endorsed the local ‘Others’ religion in order to appease the late Duke’s old cadre of followers, didn’t observe the custom. Again given that Ruud was almost a month dead by this point (the real date of his demise is still debated, much as the late Duke’s birth) and had just received a proper service, the freshly wed Queen had moved on in her mind.
>
> The true reasons for the public disagreement, as described in Damian Holt’s letter and probably matching what Rufius Valens’ sealed report of the same incident said, were probably different. With Sir Rik De Weer assuming the duchy’s throne and Sir Gust taking his place as the Queen’s spouse, the barony title of Forestfort (previously held by Ruud’s 2nd son, a very old practice still favored in parts of Lesia, but abandoned by the Issirs and Regia) had been vacated. Logic dictated that former Queen Janneke should have gotten the title, but Ruud had apparently ‘confessed’ he’d several bastards, some of them boys.
>
> One of them was the former Mayor of Colle Ron Bach, Lady Lissane’s son, who happened to be present at the wedding feast, sitting right next to his mother and Baron Sigurd Bach (Lissane had been married to his late brother Floris Bach whilst fooling around with Ruud). Lord Sigurd, Kaltha’s once powerful Master of Silence and Elsanne’s longtime ally, had kicked Lissane and her two sons out of his family (Sir Teun was serving with Lord Anker), with her legitimate daughter Lady Mona Bach suffering the same fate initially, before Lady Petra Bach intervened on her behalf (Sir Stans Reuten’s old widow was Sigurd’s third cousin).
>
> Familial relations aside, Ron Bach took offense in the queen’s proposal to offer the Barony to another of Ruud’s male ‘named bastards’, since that would fully legitimize him on top of giving him the title. The young man in question, Sir Gust’s own squire named Axel ‘Mudriver’, his cadet house now known as the ‘De Weers of Forestfort’, the son of Ellen. The latter a famed Kaltha retired courtesan with a troubled religious past.
>
> The disagreement grew out of proportion, Sigurd tried to forcibly remove the livid Lissane out of the feast and the queen’s presence, but he was attacked by Ron Bach’s bodyguards. Most guests weren’t armed, or wearing armour, but despite that the event soon turned bloody.
>
> Katers was injured by a broken bottle and Sigurd got knifed in the kidneys by one of Ron’s bodyguards, who looked to finish the Baron off, but got hacked down by Sir Stefan De Braal and his son Sir Mandel. The late Duke’s ancient Shield (De Braal was well over sixty at the time) assaulted the other bodyguard, but got jumped by Ron (a former knight afore he became a cripple and a Mayor), lost the sword and Ron found the opportunity to attack Elsanne with it.
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> It was a foolish action as he got slashed across the chest by Sir Roland Klaas. Ron dropped to his knees ‘entrails splattered on the tiles afore our queen’, and before anyone could utter a single word, Sir Stefan grabbed his sword back and used it to behead Ron Bach right in front of his screaming mother and uncle.
>
> ‘The bloody head rolled to the middle of the hall, near the De Jaegers table and afore anyone could cry a-goat’s-tit, the by then ravenous crows were all over it,’ Lord Mikel callously commented to this author seven years later. Roy, who was a front row witness to the event, rushed to help Mariska De Jaeger. The comely teenage girl had let out a shrieking loud yelp upon seeing Ron’s severed gory head, afore toppling from her chair on the hard tiles. The famed bard helped her to her feet, but got ‘too-handsy with the young lass’ and a couple of her relatives took offense. They chased the alert to the imminent danger Roy out of the main hall, but the bard tripped on the Blackcrow’s Pillar entrance’s stairs and broke both his arms badly.
>
> While another version of the story exists (where one Pete Jaeger broke both the bard’s arms and fingers himself, using a horse-shoe hammer), it is a recorded fact that the mandolin-favoring Roy took up playing the harmonica after the Queen’s nuptials.
>
> Back inside the hall, Sir Jan Reuten rushed the old Shield and a swordfight broke out. It cost Stefan’s son Mandel a finger, as he got distracted fearing for his father’s life against Sir Jan (a very potent knight), but soon the younger De Braal found his senses and swiftly butchered Ron’s bodyguard like a pig. He caught a break there as the bodyguard had gotten stabbed with a kitchen knife in the gonads by a young Alistair and could offer little resistance.
>
> While all these shenanigans occurred afore the awestruck Lorian envoys (the Issirs half-expected the Crows feast to turn bloody at some point, or other and the pirate crews present were just too-inebriated from the free wine to fully grasp what was going on), an Issir officer named Voges, a former captain with the destroyed 2nd Foot, attacked Sir Gust De Weer for unknown reasons. Gust managed to barely survive the affair, kill Voges inside the hall Ruud’s body was kept and then walk out in time to order Sir Jan Reuten, who had won the duel with De Braal and Sir Mandel, to lower his sword and ‘end this blasted folly.’
>
> Sir Jan complied, the seasoned despite his age knight had served six years alongside Gust and his Desert Crows on Eplas. Soon as this happened the relieved, but badly injured Raven of Dawn crumpled to the ground, dragging the eunuch Jasi down with him, right before the eyes of his frantic, distraught young wife.