At the news of Lucille’s brother Victor’s imminent arrival the house erupted into activity. Domestic staff hustled and bustled, producing tables and chairs from various hidden corners and carting them outside into the training yard. The kitchen was well and truly raided and a modest mountain of food was arranged in a buffet style. A small storage shed was opened from which temporary hitching posts, water troughs and feed bags were made ready. Enough water was drawn from the nearby well to put out a house fire. Everything was being cleaned with a fervor and desperation to the point that standing still for too long could easily result in a feather duster to the face. Alter couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt as he watched the to-ing and fro-ing around him, but he knew he’d only get in the way. Besides, it would be some time before the vacuum cleaner appeared, and the dishwashers in this historical period were strictly acoustic.

Oliver was flipping between nervous panic and mute surrender faster than a pancake in a washing machine. Were it not for Lucille’s reassuring presence, he may have made a bolt for the nearby hills by now. Strange, that a man who Alter had witnessed kill a wounded man for information, who had casually walked up to a man-mountain hybrid and stabbed them through the heart, should be rendered so fraught with worry by a visit from his in-law-to-be. Strange but very human. But as Alter continued to watch the staff attend their tasks he couldn’t help but notice a certain relaxed quality to their work. The food was immaculate but it was presented haphazardly in a jumble of courses, with no sign of crockery nor cutlery being provided. The cleaning appeared precise and thorough but there were a number of dusty piles hidden in corners and behind conveniently placed pieces of furniture. It was a facade. This blooming realisation only served to further pique his curiosity as he gazed out of the window. Was this an official visitation or merely an official casual glance?

The thunder of hooves drew his attention road-ward as, to a mixture of relief and disappointment, Vaulter and three members of the town guard brought their mounts to a sliding halt. The Marshal was off his horse the moment it became feasible and was already inside the building before anyone could muster a greeting. Flicking his vision to the open internal door, Alter caught a glimpse of the man striding past, his shirt already half undone. A change of costume was in order it seemed. Moments later the distant peel of a bell could be heard through the late morning air.

“They’re approaching the gate.” Lucille said as she rose from her chair.

“The Marshal’s cut it close, hasn’t he?” Riptide commented as he followed suit.

“He wasn’t far. Apparently the Unrepentant had carved a bloody path through a sheep pen on the way to the town last night. He was out haggling compensation costs with the farmer, doubtless he had to make a good offer in order to get back in time.” Oliver explained as a way of distracting himself.

“We should get ready to present ourselves.” Lucille brought the conversation back on track as she made her way towards the door. “Seeing me in good health will go a long way to calming Victor down.” She added with a smile.

“What about us?” Alter asked as he fell into step with Oliver.

“Stick close.” Oliver replied tensely. “But keep a couple of steps behind me, with your lieutenants another step behind you. The rest of your squad should find somewhere further back. It’s all a status thing, you see. It’s a bit of a waste of time if you ask me but my preferences don’t apply here.” He rambled as they made their way out of the back door and into the sunny training yard.

Alter glanced backward and got enough understanding nods to satisfy him. Between the arrayed tables, horse provisions, assembled staff and gathering ranks of guard there wasn’t much room however the squad was able to find a suitably shaded place to loiter. Lucille and Oliver stood together at the front, keeping as close as they could get while maintaining a respectful distance. Alter took his place a meter behind and to the right of Oliver, with a fidgeting Riptide and sober Boozehound behind him. Vaulter appeared a handful of seconds later, having mostly changed into a more official looking uniform complete with the greens and symbology necessary to identify him as a servant of Auserre. With the last of the buttons fastened he moved to mirror Alter’s position to Lucille’s rear left. The bell changed its pattern from a steady knell to sets of three quick notes which caused a rise in anticipation among those assembled. Alter guessed that meant the column had entered Crestvigil. Soon enough a much deeper, more numerous rumble of hooves could be heard.

In a sudden flurry of noise and motion horses spilled into the yard at speed. It took every ounce of Alter’s nerve to prevent him from taking a hesitant step backward at the sensory onslaught taking place before him. The majority of the horsemen were similar in their appearance. Identical suits of polished silver armor covered them, augmented with sections of green identifying fabric. Their heads were uncovered but full helms could be seen dangling from their saddles. Their hair was cut uniformly short, Alter could see an array of ages ranging from late teens to early forties. They looked tired, Oliver’s comment about travelling all night appeared to carry weight. At the rear of the column came an ornate carriage pulled by four black horses, fortunately the driver had had the good sense to slow down beforehand and managed not to crash into the equine scrum.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Lucille!” One of the knights in noticeably grander armor bellowed as he leapt from his mount and charged forward.

“Brother!” Lucille called in kind and stepped forward to be swept up in a close hug.

This man who Alter assumed must be Victor looked to be in his late twenties, with short curly black hair and a large frame that must top out at at least six foot five.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked fervently as he held Lucille at arms length, examining her frame as if to make sure she hadn’t lost a limb.

“I’m perfectly healthy, as you can clearly see.” Lucille reassured him firmly but that did not stop Victor from shaking his head and turning back to another slightly fancier knight.

“Get Samuel out here.” He ordered.

“Oh, Victor! You didn’t drag poor Samuel all the way out here, did you?” Lucille asked, her face aghast.

“The report said you had been hurt, we need to make sure.” Victor’s voice was firm as one of the knights knocked on the carriage door. Lucille attempted to protest but she was roundly ignored.

A moment later the carriage door opened and a wizened old man in a basic grey robe tottered out, nearly tumbling onto the floor were it not for the catching arms of the knight who had summoned him. He looked stiff, sleep deprived and profoundly uncomfortable. However once his feet were properly reunited with terra firma he immediately bee-lined to his duties. Lucille was modestly poked and prodded as the ancient doctor asked several dozen questions in a quivering voice while Victor hovered nervously behind him. Seemingly satisfied with his initial investigation Samuel nodded and began making his way ponderously back to the carriage. Lucille let out a surprised squawk as Victor bundled her up in his arms and began following the doctor, the slight form of Chloe scurrying behind. With a deft movement Victor pitched his sister into the carriage before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. For a surreal moment quiet ruled the scene but for the puffing and blowing of the horses. At a hand signal from the knight Victor had turned to, the others led their mounts to the water troughs, the grateful beasts stooping to drink their much needed fill. Oliver and Vaulter stood to rigid attention, glancing from side to side Alter hazarded a guess that the storm was far from over.

As if to punctuate his thought the carriage door flew open once more and Victor reemerged. There was fire in his eyes, wild fury that scanned the crowd like a tiger who had been the victim of one too many embarrassing practical jokes.

“You!” He roared as he spotted Oliver and began closing the distance, his gauntleted fist reaching back as if to strike. “How could you allow this to happen?! How could you drag my poor sister into such a dangerous place?! How pathetic are the knights of Masserlind that they should be defeated by a bunch of petty sand-addled brigands!” The tirade flowed like an apoplectic waterfall but the accompanying blow never arrived.

Alter could not see Oliver’s face from his position, but he hadn’t melted into an ashamed puddle or had his head been chopped off, so he guessed he was handling it well enough.

“I have had enough of this charade, you have proven yourself unworthy of my dear sister’s hand a dozen times over!” Victor continued, the personification of a storm. “It’s over, do you hear me?! I hereby declare this engagement annulled! Auserre will never support you ever again! You. Are. On. Your. Own.” Victor growled directly into Oliver’s face before spinning on his heel. “Are the horses ready?” He called.

“Sir.” The knight lieutenant saluted.

“Good, we’re leaving. Keep up the good work Sir Vaulter.” Victor launched himself back onto his horse and immediately powered it back towards the road.

With hungry looks at the untouched food the knights began to follow him out of the yard, followed by the rumbling carriage. Alter blew out a slow and steady breath as he processed what had just happened. Strangely it was Vaulter that broke the stillness first as he stepped forward and patted Oliver on the back.

“Well survived, my lord.” He whispered reassuringly with hints of relief and pride. “Let’s get this all cleared away.” He clapped twice.

The servants again burst into life, packing away tables and whisking the plates back to the kitchens. They must have known the knights would be leaving almost as soon as they’d arrived.

“Did that go well?” Alter asked as he sidled up beside Oliver.

“Well enough.” Oliver sighed as he allowed his shoulders to slump. “This is probably the twentieth time our engagement has been ‘cancelled’ by Victor’s outbursts. Don’t worry about it too much.” He sounded as if he was talking to himself more than Alter.

“You didn’t even get to say goodbye.” Alter murmured as he shepherded him back into the house.

“We expected this. Don’t worry, she’ll be back with us soon enough. It’s not in her nature to stay cooped up in their estate.” Oliver allowed himself a wistful smile.

“As you say.” Alter responded lightly, not wanting to pursue the matter further. “What now?”

“Vaulter had the foresight to arrange separate transport for us to take us to the border with my territory. They’re not riding like lunatics so they won’t arrive until later. All going well, we’ll be at our destination in three days. Come, I’ll show you the route.” Oliver regained some pep for his step and led the way back to the map room.

Soon enough Alter and the rest of his bewildered squad would find themselves on the road again. At least they’d get somewhere to sit this time.