Monday, November 16, 2009

Chapter 9.2.3

"What is this?" Grandmaster Meiltung bellowed from the porch. He was dressed only in his trousers and boots, but had his broadsword in his hands. Bards edged back from this spector of steel and anger -- no one ever woke Meiltung or summoned him from his chamber without hesitation -- but kept their gaze on Guerney's soldiers.

Ever prudent, Master Mrlin snatched up his harp and dashed inside with it.

Master Iving spoke mildly. "I believe this good man has a matter to lay on the steps."

"Out with it, then." The Grandmaster flourished his blade, showing great strength with the heavy weapon.

With great condescension, Lord Guerney lowered his blade. "I want my daughter. She is betrothed to Lord Reinard, but a week ago she ran off with this Bard. He has no right to her, and I demand that he tell me where she is."

The Grandmaster replied coldly. "You ask for our help in a matter concerning Lord Reinard?"

Charles kept his face blank, emotionless. He was a good man.

Lord Guerney frowned darkly. "I ask for justice. Surely a man as great as you are would not deny me that. Return my daughter!"

The Grandmaster looked as if he would be happy to deny anything to anyone.

"With a Bard's bastard in her belly!" the dark-haired troublemaking journeyman shouted out. "She'll take that as a wedding gift to her husband!"

"Sieg, Sieg," muttered Master Iving, with a shake of his head.

Hardly anyone else noticed that Lord Guerney seemed neither surprised nor dismayed by the outburst.

The Grandmaster face darkened. "I will not betray one of my own to salve your pride. Leave us.

Lord Guerney raised his sword again. "What you won't give-- I'll take."

Friday, November 13, 2009

Chapter 9.2.2

As he came to me, frowning in puzzlement, Lord Guerney called out from below, "Where’s my daughter, you lily-fingered, girl-voiced scoundrel?"

The Bard stopped and crossed his arms. "By what right do you insult me?"

Lord Guerney pushed his way through the crowd and set his foot on the lowest marble step. He drew his sword and pointed it at Sharp. "Give me my answer, theif – or I’ll cut it out of you!"

Master Iving raised his hand. "Gently, gently – just state your complaint, and Grandmaster Meiltung..."

Lord Guerney moved his sword toward Master Iving. "No more out of you, withered tree, or you’ll never sing again."

With that threat, every Bard with a sword pulled his weapon, and every soldier did likewise. I pushed Elise toward Charles, who pulled her behind his body, and picked up Geldswan. Blades and blood would solve nothing, however, so with a sweeping motion I sheathed my sword.

I was the only one. Everyone else stood tense, waiting for the first shout.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Chapter 19.2.1

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Master Iving, leaning on his cane, stood halfway up the marble steps. One step below him, Elise and I faced each other. She wore a green robe and a chaplet of dried flowers in her hair, a gift from the Warlocker. I wore Geldswan and formal linen clothes that Master Marlin had found for me: an embroidered shirt and dark trousers. Quite properly I wore no shoes, but the chill of the marble step was tempered by my lady’s warm smile. Master Marlin, his harp in his lap, sat further up, while Peter and Charles watched from the side. A knot of Journeymen and Bards-in-Training looked down from the porch, Sieg and Van among them. Wallen was also there, standing to the side with a scarf wrapped over his chin. At the foot of the steps a knot of soldiers gathered, no doubt eager for the wine and cakes that would follow.

As the first edge of the sun broke the eastern horizon, sending a shaft of light into the face of the Guildhall, Master Marlin plucked a single string. With that note we set our feet upon the path. I took my lady’s hands in mine, catching their warmth in the midst of the chill. Master Marlin played a simple melody and Master Iving sang. His voice seemed weak at first, but gathered strength as he went on, until he was the envy of any young man.

"Gods look down and bless this day,
Clear this path, guard this way.
Let the lovers here be paired,
Heart to heart, lives to share."

As Master Marlin played the tune again, softly, Master Iving looked down at me. "Here before all witnesses, both mortal and god, state your name and offer."

I signed to my lady as Peter spoke for me. "I am Gerard of Jerden, Bard-in-training, and a Freeman. I offer you my heart, my hand, my life, my children, and all else that I possess." With the last I drew Geldswan and lay it at my lady’s feet.

Master Iving looked at Elise and repeated the charge.

Smiling, she signing clumsily as she spoke. "I be Elise of Krast, Goodwife, and a Freewoman. I offer ye my heart, my hand, my life, my children, and all that I possess." Untying the scarf over her hair, she laid it at my feet along with a wooden spoon and a pair of scissors.

More of Guerney’s soldiers had come to watch, and almost all of the Bards were there. The two groups eyed each other nervously, but respectfully kept their silence. Sharp, still tucking in his shirt, had joined Wallen, and behind them stood a woman wrapped in a hooded cape.

"Is there a dowery?" Master Iving asked.

Elise started to shake her head, but before she had finished Charles had dug three coins out of his purse. He handed them to her, and earned a grateful smile.

Master Iving took the coins from her hand and passed them to me. "Gerard of Jerden, take this dowry and hold it secure. Should ever you betray Elise, or drive her away, you must return this dowry two-fold to her. Should ever she betray you or leave you, the dowry is forfeit to you. Do you understand?"

We nodded. Charles beamed.

Then Master Iving held up a piece of ribbon and sang heartily:

"Heart to heart,
Hand to hand,
Life to life,
Woman to man."

With each phrase he tied a knot in the ribbon, and with the last he tied the loose ends together. He gave it to Elise, then took our hands – hers holding the ribbon and mine holding the dowery – and pressed them against each other.

"Eagles hope to brush the sky;
So may your love soar.
Oaks stand solid in the earth;
So may your love endure.
Rivers run both swift and clear;
So may your love flow.
Hearths comfort, warm, and fill with cheer;
So may your love glow.
You are one."

With those words, our hearts were bound together. I turned her around and kissed her twice, completing the ceremony. Then, seeing no reason to stop, we kissed several more time.

And now that we were properly sung together and Elise was clearly mine, I had a little matter to settle with Sharp. I pointed to him and beckoned.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Chapter 19.1

Peter woke me early, when the only light came from a small candle on the windowsill. He had reached over Elise to touch me, and he kept his eyes on my face. "Time to rise."

Very gently, I freed my hands from my lady’s waist. "There is no Matins service here."

"The wedding," he reminded me. "You have to be on the steps by dawn."

I closed my eyes and sought a moment longer the warmth of my lady; then I stroked her hair. I kissed her eyes, her mouth, then the base of her throat.

"I’ll be reading by the fire," Peter said as he beat a hasty retreat.

I threw back the covers and let the cold shock us awake. Charles lay motionless in the other bed – apparently Peter had drawn the short straw and been forced to sleep on the floor. No wonder he had awakened so easily. I let Elise pull on her dress, then lobbed a pillow at the knight.

He caught it with one hand, then slowly opened his eyes. A crafty smile graced his face. "Time to be wedded?"

"To be sung together," I corrected him.

He nodded, rose, and pulled on his own clothes. As he belted on his sword, he glanced around the room. "Where’s the monk?"

"Reading by the fire," I signed. "He left before dressed."

Charles grinned. "I surprised. After all that wine and honey he drank last night, he should still be asleep."

So Peter had made himself at home. "I thought you went to say your evening prayers."

"Oh, this was afterwards," he assured me. He paused, looked around, and then signed with clumsy gestures. "You should know. He is Reinard’s older brother. He can claim Songless."

I nodded and signed back. "Wallen doesn’t know this yet. Did you tell Peter who Wallen is?"

Charles shook his head.

"Neither have I. We should be careful, untill this has been explained to Wallen. Peter told me that he didn’t want Songless, but Wallen could still see him as a threat."

Charles frowned as his hands moved. "All he wants is a place. If our lord would assure him of that, he would waive all claims on the land. He told me that."

Songless did need a steward, having lost Daniel to Saint William’s monastery. Peter was learned in letters and numbers, and seneschaucie would suit him better than following after a mute harpist for the rest of his days. "It should be so. Will you go and explain this to Lord Reinard?"

"I’m not in his best graces," Charles said aloud.

Neither was I.

I thought for a moment, but no answer came to me. I would need to walk through the spirit world with this question – but already the darkness was fading and new duties called.