The morning dawned clear over the field on the outskirts of Kodeck. Baron Franz Lun Duegr stood near the side of the barn on the farmstead, just outside of Kodeck. He held the crossbow into his shoulder, sighting along the bolt at the target fifty yards down the field. As he squeezed the lever, the string thrummed, and the bolt shot across the distance. A sharp thwack resounded through the area, as the bolt struck just inside the outer ring of the target.
He grabbed his goat’s foot lever, and reset the string, placed a fresh bolt in position and took aim again. As he was setting himself to send another bolt at the target, he heard the dull thud of horse hooves trotting toward him.
Without taking his eyes off the target, Franz said, “Good of you to join, Margrave Vorspiel.” He then released the bolt to another sharp thwack sound as it struck the target, only slightly closer to the centre.
Franz then lowered the weapon and said to Karl, “Would you like to try? First, I’ll show you how to arm it.”
Franz reloaded the crossbow and then passed the weapon to Karl, saying, “It’s simple to shoot. Just place your left hand there, you put your right hand like- Yes, like that. Tuck it into your shoulder. Now sight down the bolt. All right, now squeeze and…”
Karl squeezed and let out a curse as the crossbow released. He then laughed after the satisfying thwack sound of a bolt striking the target.
“Wow, that was surprisingly easy. Show me how to reload it.”
Franz demonstrated again, dry fired it, then handed the goat’s foot lever and crossbow back to Karl.
Karl reloaded the weapon and took aim.
Franz’s eyes took on that fanatical gleam, as he said, “Any day now, that bitch queen will die and then we shall rise up, while those filthy Halder scum are in mourning.”
Franz’s words caused Karl to look at him as he squeezed the lever, missing the target. “I beg your pardon? I am a loyal son of Ohlsbach, but that is too far. She is an Ohlsbachi queen. You should not malign her so.”
“Margot? She is a gutter whore for that one eyed Halder prick, birthing a litter of mutts we shall put down if they try stopping us!”
“You know what, Franz. I’ve heard just about enough. I was willing to listen. Hells, even to get behind the cause. But I will not be part of anything involving uncouth, despicable men such as you. She is our queen! A true Ohlsbachi martyr! She was traded off to prevent our people from being slaughtered! She had no choice, and I will not have her disrespected by the likes of you! Least of all on her deathbed! I mean, have you no grace at all, man?”
“Anyone who would throw their lot in with those Halder dogs is flea-bitten, and of no use to us. That dying slut included!”
That last sentence was too much for Karl. He backhanded the baron, knocking the man off his feet. Looking down on the baron with a contemptuous sneer, he hissed, “We are done. I will have no part in your folly.” Then he looked at the crossbow he was holding and added, “I am keeping this. It will be a fine addition to my collection.”
Karl turned, moved to his horse, and mounted, casting one last look of contempt at the downed baron. He then spurred his horse into a canter and rode away.
Baron Franz Lun Duegr stared after the man in shock, then snapped out of it. With an enraged snarl, he leapt to his feet and ran into the barn. He grabbed up another crossbow, bolts, and goat’s foot lever. After loading it with hands shaky from adrenaline, he shouldered the weapon. Stalking to his left, he cleared his line of sight of an obstructing shrub. He lead off the cantering man on horseback, raising his point of aim and squeezed- thrum!
There was a satisfying, wet-sounding thock as the margrave was struck, slumping forward in his saddle. His horse, breaking into a gallop, receded into the distance.
Franz was initially elated at the shot. However, his elation turned to fear, as the margrave managed to stay on his horse. He froze momentarily, unsure what to do as he struggled with the magnitude of what he had just done. Franz had either just murdered a noble of higher rank than himself, or worse, had tried to murder him, and failed, which would have him denounced and declared an outlaw.
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The desperate baron quickly reloaded the crossbow, raced to the stables to grab his horse so he could give chase. Galloping after the wounded margrave, he scanned the road ahead and to either side, but could see no sign of him.
Frantically, Baron Lun Duegr galloped his horse along the road as he thought, ‘Where can he be? He can’t have just disappeared!’
He reined in after an hour of searching, wheeled his horse, and rode back to town. He needed to gather up his followers, and have them move all the weapons. Then he needed to head west to get across the border, and meet with the Schildene troops promised to him by the king of Schilden.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
King Ulden organised the arrangements for Queen Margot Argenson well in advance. As his wife’s health worsened, he realised her time was limited.
Attendees gathered inside the throne room of the Bostbogen palace. The priest chosen to deliver the service admirably performed the ceremony, invoking the gods, and praying for them to bless and guide her soul for the journey beyond. However, his discomfort was evident on his face. His eyes continued to dart nervously toward the blonde, adolescent-appearing woman, wearing a pure white gown with a crown of blue and yellow flowers in her hair, standing with the royal family.
Once the priest finished his benediction, the funeral attendees filed past the casket crafted in the shape of a longship. Each attendee placed a single sprig of lavender, and a single coin. The funeral had many attendees, mostly the local nobles and well-to-do townsfolk.
Then six men, with Thayn and Viggin in the middle, carried the casket from the catafalque, and slowly walked out into the palace grounds, and placed the casket into the waiting open carriage. From there, the procession followed a circuit around the city along streets lined with residents of the city, saying their tearful farewells to their beloved queen.
After the procession completed the circuit, they moved out of the city to the royal burial grounds where they would commit her to earth, through some breastworks under a burial mound.
The slow walk back to the palace was done in silence, with the funeral completed upon the king arriving back at his palace.
Now that the funeral was over, King Ulden ordered the palace cleared of all except family and those who work and live there. The king, his sons, and Briga retired to a side chamber, off the throne room. Ulden sat down heavily at the head of the table, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose.
Briga broke the silence, and said, “It was a beautiful service. One I am certain Margot would approve of. She was never a woman of excess, and preferred to keep things to a minimum. That is why so many people wanted to pay their respects.”
“You’re not wrong,” said Viggin with a small smile, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Even when dressing, and wearing jewellery. She always leaned toward the understated choice.”
“I’m just glad she got her last wish. Thank you, Divine Briga. We owe you a debt we can never repay,” added Thayn.
“I took advantage of a loophole,” Briga said with a wry smile. “I do not answer the prayers of people asking things for themselves. It was Gereld who prayed for your presence at her bedside.”
Briga paused a moment, and then said, “Now I know this is not a good time, but we need to discuss Bruderman. My Orn is there, and he will lead the warriors your father took over there, something which took some real fast talking when I explained that to his parents.”
“I don’t envy anyone the task of telling Venna they would put her sons at risk,” said Thayn, as he shuddered involuntarily. “I have seen…”
“For the interim, it will be under your administration, Thayn,” said King Ulden in a subdued tone.
“Wait, what? I was never consulted about this,” said Thayn with some indignance.
“It makes sense, Brother. Your lands are closest,” said Viggin.
“I already have enough on my plate-”
“Your plate?” Viggin interrupted, as he gave a derisive laugh. “Ilsa’s plate more like.”
Briga smiled as she shook her head. “We also need to discuss how we can ensure your attendance at Erik and Selti’s wedding.”
“Couldn’t you just…” Viggin started and then left it hanging.
Briga gave him sidewards glance, and said, “I am not a passenger service, Viggin. I am aiming to hold the wedding the following Serday. Is thirteen days enough time for you to arrive on Sofjorland?”
“Truthfully?” Thayn asked.
Briga nodded.
“No. It would take us, at the bare minimum, ten days to get to Fludavera, and I still have to gather up my wife and daughters from Lopstad,” said Thayn.
“Well, a compromise. I shall return you to your palaces. How many days do you think you will need here?” asked Briga.
King Ulden asked, “May I impose upon you to take me to Lopstad? I feel a deep urge to be with my granddaughters just now.”
“Of course.”
“You know, I think I shall go to Lopstad as well. Now you only need make one trip,” said Viggin with a sad smile. “But we will need to do some shopping. It is Heidris’ birthday.”
“Blast it! I forgot my gifts back at Marius’ home!” said Thayn, his hand on his head.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. I would urge you strongly to do something extra nice for Shufi,” said Briga.
Thayn thought for a moment, and then said to himself, “I wonder if Ilsa would consider talking to her sister on Shufi’s behalf.”
“You can only ask,” said Viggin.
“Alright. Do your shopping, and then we shall go,” said Briga.