Treachery of Men RPG

[littlemanpoet]

There went Uldor, strutting off to corner the Borrim lord. No subtlety about Ulfast's big oaf of an older brother, none at all. It would be disastrous for the lordship to fall into his hands, for the people, but obviously for himself. Ulfast held no illusions about the likely span of his years if Uldor became lord of the Ulfings. It would be short. He would be accused of committing some treacherous crime, treason even, with no proof to be found, just the word of Uldor's mealy mouthed and fork-tongued witnesses. It would not matter how many witnesses to the counter Ulfast would produce, they would all go missing by the most inconvenient of accidents. Not clever, but effective, was brother Uldor.

And living in denial. For example, Uldor had no idea that Ulfast had had his own meetings with Jord; only they were held in secret, hidden from prying ears and eyes; they were never seen to converse in public, not even make eye contact. And Ulfast knew that Jord had greater confidence in himself rather than Uldor. She knew he was the clever one.

Ulfast saw the ragged old man flee an encounter with his brother. He had not had a chance to see him well.

Ulfast strode forward, not to be outdone by his brother. Before Khandr had a chance to reply to Uldor, Ulfast threw in his own words.

"Greetings, Lord Khandr! Did that old man have a name?"

[Child of the 7th Age]

For a long moment, Khandr stood silent, hearing the words from Ulfast and Uldor but paying scant attention to them. Finally, he turned to the men and replied, "A name? He spoke a name in passing, but as it meant nothing to me I let it slip away. He spoke some garbled nonsense....about mischief afoot in the court. But I understood nothing that he said. Surely you have heard of him for he seemed to know you two quite well....."

Hearing no response, Khandr forged ahead, anxious to be finished with any talk of the stranger. "But enough of such things. If we do not get on our way, the day will be gone and we will have no quarry to show for ourselves. I am tired of standing here. Can we not get on our way? Now I go to ride with my retainers."

Khandr pulled on the reins and turned the animal around, trotting over to join the rest of the Borrim who waited a short distance away. In that manner, he also avoided immediate conversation with his hosts, at least till he had done something that must be done. Riding up to Hunta, the Borrim lord leaned close, lowering his voice, and told the man something in his ear. Hunta's face turned ashen as he listened to the words.

"Now?" Hunta queried. "I am to go now?" the young man looked reluctant and nervous.

"Yes, go and pack a satchel of food. Gather all the weapons you have. Then go immediately on the road along with that dog of yours. Make all haste. Head straight to our King as fast as you can ride and tell him what I have heard. Hopefully, you will get there before our forces leave for the field. I do not know how much truth lies behind these charges, but I can not ignore these words. I will try to gain more information and send it along later, either from here or once our hosts join together at the meeting place. Go now Hunta, and may the hosts of the West protect you for we may surely need it."

With a final salute, Khandr turned and rode back again towards the larger group. This time, he asked one of his men, "Have you seen my wife Embla? Has she joined us for the hunt? I have great need to speak with her. Our party leaves now to follow the game, but I would have her ride beside me that I may share some news." He looked up and glanced around the clearing to see if she was there.

[Folwren]

“A name?” Khandr repeated, turning to look at the two brothers. His brows knit were knit together. “He spoke a name in passing, but as it meant nothing to me, I let it slip away. He spoke some garbled nonsense. . .about mischief afoot in the court. But I understood nothing that he said. Surely you have heard of him for he seemed to know you two quite well. . .”

Uldor cast a measured glance towards Ulfast, wondering if his brother knew anything of the ragged stranger. The brothers’ eyes met, briefly, but Uldor knew in that second that Ulfast knew as little of the stranger as Uldor did. Neither of them answered and they looked back to Khandr.

“But enough of such things,” the Borrim leader said with an impatient movement in his saddle. “If we do not get on our way, the day will be gone and we will have no quarry to show for ourselves. I am tired of standing here. Can we not get on our way? Now I go to ride with my retainers.”

Uldor nodded and stepped back as Khandr wheeled his horse about and trotted back the way he had come. He stared after him, his jaw clamped shut tightly. He said nothing out loud to his brother, but his mind was whirling with thoughts. ‘Mischief afoot in the court? What did he tell him? What does he know? What does he think he knows? I will have an answer. And if he dared speak anything dangerous. . .’

“Come, brother,” Ulfast said at his side. Uldor looked at him with a black look. He hated his thought to be interrupted. “It’s time to ride.”

“Yes. It is time.” He turned and strode back quickly to his horse. He mounted up and looked about himself. “Where is Brodda?” he asked of the nearest attendant.

“Down the line, my lord,” the man said, pointing.

“Stay here,” he commanded his squire, and he urged his horse forward and pulled his head about and rode down the line. “Brodda,” he said, catching the servant’s eye. He jerked his head sideways and Brodda came out away from the others. “Brodda, did you see the man talking with the Borrim leader?”

“Yes, briefly.”

“I want him.” Brodda looked about at the many people milling about. Uldor grabbed his shoulder and turned his attention back to him. “I want him found and brought to me. At whatever cost, Brodda. Do you understand? Use whatever means you must.”

Brodda looked bitter, but he nodded his head. He understood.

[Noinkling]

‘Valr, you go on and help Falarr with the hunting gear.’ Dulaan watched as he turned away from her and walked resignedly away. She could not help but see how the boy’s shoulders slumped and his lips clamped firmly together as he bit back yet another protest.

‘Here, help Granny, pack these seed cakes and little pot of sweet goat-butter,’ she instructed Jóra. ‘And fetch one of those pots of honey from the chest – one with the red string about its neck. Got that nice bit of comb in it.’ She gave the girl a nudge with her hand, one finger of the other pointing to where the family’s larder was stored. 'And those two crocks of jam there at the end of the top shelf, too.'

Again, she saw this child’s shoulders droop with disappointment. ‘Go, on now. You know we’ll put our heads together later, you and I, For now, let your mother and father sort this problem out without you, missy!’ She gave the girl a conspiratorial wink, nodding her chin as if to confirm the promise.

When the two youngsters were busy about their tasks, Dulaan made her way to where Grímr and Káta spoke in quiet, tense tones behind the curtain of their sleeping compartment. She waited for a pause in the conversation, then called cleared her throat loudly and called out to her heart's-daughter. ‘Káta! I’ve had a thought in this old head,’ she went on. ‘Let me come in and we’ll see if you two think it might help for now.’ She waited a moment, hearing nothing. She could just imagine the shrugging of her Káta's shoulders and the shaking of Grímr’s head as a deep silence filled the little space beyond the curtain.

‘Well, since I didn’t hear a “No!” ’, she said, pushing the thick material aside. ‘I’ll take it as a “Yes, come in”, then. She stepped into the small quarters, letting the curtain twitch back into place. ‘Well now, how about we do this so’s you can make the hunt with those outsiders and the Lords,’ she began, nodding at Grímr. ‘You know, make a good showing for the family.’ She turned toward Káta, pushing on with her idea before they could ask her to leave. ‘And it’s been a good turn of days since the ... banquet,’ she spit the word out with some distaste. ‘I think I should pay a call on Gunna. See how she and the baby are coming along. And I’ll need someone to drive me.’ She rubbed her left shoulder as if it pained her. ‘Hurts something fierce today! And no, I don’t want Jóra driving. She’s a little bit wild in her handling of the reins! I was thinking Fálki could handle the cart, while Jóra rides along to keep the cakes and pots and such steady in the back.’ She looked from one to the other, her brow raised in question. ‘Course, that’ll leave the hunting party a little short on your end. Why’nt you take Valr to handle your gear and manage your kill. He’s old enough now, don’t you think? I know he’s been out hunting with Falarr before...tagged along, wasn’t it. Boy’s moving toward manhood, be good for him!’

Before Káta or her husband could answer, there was a quickly squelched sound of delight come from beyond the curtain. A hasty protest. And the sound of a minor tussle threatening to escalate...

[piosenniel]

‘Well, wife, this is hardly the time to approach a man about his sister’s marrying!’ Grímr growled out his well worn argument in as hushed a manner as his frustration would allow. Womenfolk! He grunted to himself. Not all things are fixed by love! Love – of all things!!! The boy was still a pup. What can he know of love? Wanting.....more likely. There was a battle, most likely many long hard battles, coming certain as the moon’s turn. Sooner more likely. After would be time enough to think of binding one family to another. Not that the boy had a thought for whether this was a good match for his family. His brow furrowed as his thoughts traveled down this path. Excellent smithy, that Dag, though. Good man in his dealings. Straight forward, loyal to his friends.....loyal to his family, isn’t he. Didn’t he take on his wife’s sister and hasn’t he made a good life for all of them. Be a good man to have at one’s side. His brow eased itself upward from frustration to speculation.

Káta’s voice broke in on his reverie. ‘I can see the stubborn old mule is on his feet now and thinking about moving his carcass forward. So? What are we going to do, husband? Fálki’s much like you, dear heart. His mind and heart are set in this matter. He bows to your place as this family’s head. But not forever. And you know his brother will help him. I will not lose two sons to something that can be solved with a little effort from you.’ Her hand came up to rest on his forearm in a familiar gesture. ‘That unpleasantness at the banquet pushes for a swifter course of action on our family’s part. Especially if we are to tie a bond between Dag’s family and ours. And, really, that would be an advantageous tie for us, don’t you think? Well.....?’

‘Káta! I’ve had a thought in this old head,’ Dulaan’s voice cried out in the space between the question and the coming answer. ‘Let me come in and we’ll see if you two think it might help for now.’

Grímr’s brow furrowed once again; his breathed in just on the verge of saying ‘Not now!’, but the curtain twitched aside and in came the older woman, her eyes snapping with a determined light. She laid out her little plan, and he wondered if she and Káta had already set this in place. ’twould be just like the two wrens to have sorted this already! But his wife looked genuinely surprised at the older woman’s plan. Though now that he watched her, he could see his Káta’s head nod nearly imperceptibly as Dulaan talked. And that shrewd look come on her features as she considered how this might work out. He sighed inwardly, wanting to put this aside for the moment. The prospect of the hunt and being seen in the company of the Lords loomed large in the recesses of his thought. He could not spend all day arguing this problem. It would not do to skip the hunt. Too many offenses would be tallied against him for that breach of courtesy. These were unstable times. He needed to position himself favorably in whoever’s eyes would be the one to take power when the old Lord died. To their surprise, he nodded his own head, giving the final admonition that Káta was to go also on this visit.

It was Falarr, his younger siblings’ collars clasped firmly in his fists, whose grinning face greeted his father as Grímr yanked the heavy curtain aside. ‘So, I’ve caught these two nosy-pokes listening in! Pushing each other aside to hear better, weren’t they!? Don’t know what you’ve been talking about, but they both seem excited about it.’ He let go of Valr and Jóra, both of whom fixed him fiercely with their exasperated stares.

‘I’m to go with you! On the hunt!’ Valr said with an indignant tone. ‘And I get to see the baby!!!’ Jóra squealed. ‘Though I think I handled the cart last time quite well!’

Grímr gave instructions to Falarr. Yes, Valr was to go with them. ‘But as our weapons’ keeper. And mind you, Valr, bring the net bag for any smaller game we might bring home. The larger will go to the Lord’s hall.’ He dismissed the two with a wave, calling out to Falarr as he made off with his brother. ‘Send Fálki in. I’ve need of him to see the women safely on an errand.’

---------------

Joining the hunting party.....

The hunting party was already on their way when Grímr and his two sons joined in at the rear. He nodded to those he knew as he drew near, calling out a greeting to them. ‘First hunt!’ he said with some pride to one as he nodded back toward Valr riding on his right. ‘Good hunting today, I think. Should be plenty of meat for the Lord’s table tonight!’ he called to another.

He motioned his sons closer with a flick of his hand. ‘Stay close to me. Many people here we don’t know.’ Leaning left toward Falarr, he crooked his head toward Valr. The younger son sat his horse with an excited air about him, his eyes darting here and there as he took in the hunters, their weapons, their mounts. ‘If we are separated, you stick to Valr like a goose-grass burr. You know how things can happen in the heat of the chase and kill.’

[Nogrod]

Fastarr had been following the events unfolding in the field with only a slight interest. He was mounted beside Hunta and Bergr and ready to show the Ulfing their skills in the hunt. They had been generally just scorned in the settlement this far. Now it would be their turn to show what they could do. But as Khandr came back and talked hastily to Hunta with a grave expression Fastarr started to get notice. Something was going on. He scanned the field to see what was happening. He caught a sight he was troubled with and spurred to the side of his lord after Hunta had turned around and Khandr had called for Embla.

“My lord, lord Khandr! Who was that man you talked with? For I see he is in trouble right now. Is that good or bad?”

Khandr turned to face his retainer a bit confused as he was abruptly wrought from his thoughts focusing on Embla.

“What do you mean Fastarr?” He followed Fastarr’s eyes to just see Ruadan rushing into the crowd at the middle of the glade.

“Lord Uldor just sent his dogs after that old man you talked with while you had your discussion with Hunta. I saw that orders were passed. From what I can see, there is no doubt he was sent after the gamling.”

Khandr hesitated just a second.

“Go Fastarr, Go and protect him if you can find him. It might be important indeed.”

“I’ll follow that man and let him do the finding... and I’ll stop him if he doesn’t reach the oldtimer first.”

Fastarr turned to follow Ruadan’s advancement through the crowds to estimate the path he was taking. Just as he was turning to leave he heard Khandr address him one more time, now with a more graver face.

“Bring him to my quarters... if he accepts the offer. Hugo and Grogr can hide him there if necessary... and...”, it seemed Khandr hesitated yet again. Fastarr looked at his lord with a questioning look.

“If I’m not with you as this hunt is over pay heed to what he says. There are black clouds over us... You must do what is right then.”

There was an uneasy silence between the two men. Fastarr’s head was exploding with questions. Why was his lord looking that grim and why did he spoke like he spoke? Why wouldn’t he be among them in the evening? Who was this old chap anyway? What was going on?

“Go Fastarr, go like our fate was at stake!”

“Aye sir!” Fastarr spurred his mount towards the crowd where Ruadan had vanished.

~*~

“Hugo!”, Fastarr shouted seeing the older servant emerge from between the people preparing for the hunt. Praised be the spirits! He steered towards Hugo while following Ruadan making his way through the crowd some fifty yards to his right.

“Take Leafeye and follow me from a distance!”

Hugo gave Fastarr a confused look. “Yes Fastarr, but... what on earth is...?”

“I’m on lord Khandr’s bidding and there’s no time to explain. We’re trying to protect an old man from Uldor’s brutes... Now take these and follow me!” He unmounted as he spoke and after giving the reins to Hugo he picked his staff from Leafeye’s side and ran into the crowd heading towards the direction he had counted he could meet up with Ruadan.

It seemed like the whole settlement had gathered to the field outside the town. After passing through those feverishly preparing for the hunt with their aids Fastarr faced a wall of wellwishers and curious townsfolk who had gathered just to watch the spectacle. The children were chasing each other in their games and the grannies were handing out packed meals for the hungry ones. Fastarr ran alongside the narrow path between the crowd and the preparing horsemen trying to catch again a glimpse of his target within the crowd. He was running towards the towngate.

Finally he spotted him. He spotted them both. The old man was quite near the gate advancing steadily towards it and Ruadan was some fifty yards behind him pushing his way through the lunching crowd on his right. I could just manage to get between them at the gate... He turned to wave hastily to Hugo. Fastarr ran as fast he could jumping over lunchbaskets and horsegear not so much sidestepping people coming towards him but more swinging his staff to and fro to make them dodge away.

Soon enough Hugo made it to his side coming through the preparing horsemen.

“That old man there, can you see him, the one going through the gate right now?”

Hugo confirmed he had recognised the man.

“Take him to safety to the residence. Hide him away with Grogr. Say it’s a question of his life and lord Khandr’s offer. I will stop that brute chasing him. Now go!”

After Hugo beat Leafeye to full speed Fastarr focused on outrunning Ruadan to the gate. He’s too concentrated to the gamling as not to have noticed me yet... that’s good. Now I just need to beat him there... I can make it, I can make it!

Fastarr reached the gate when Ruadan was some twenty yards away from it. Hugo and the old man had entered the gate a few moments ago. Fastarr got a glimpse of the old man turning from the first corner with Hugo trailing just behind him. Fastarr jumped quickly to aside to conceal himself into the shadows of the corner of the gate. He took a two-handed grip from his staff and hoisted it above his head. He was ready.

[Noinkling]

‘Looks like Dag’s busy at his forge, eh?’ Dulaan’s chin lifted toward the smithy, a small smile wrinkling her face. From her seat in the back of the little wagon, she could see the thick plume of smoke rise up in the cool air, punctuated here and there with bright sparks. The sound of the smith’s hammer rang loud in the distance. Fálki nodded, his eyes sliding momentarily to where Dag’s smithy stood. A look of apprehension furrowed his young brow for the briefest of moments, replaced at once by one of determination.

Only a short space longer and they were at the house where Dag’s family dwelt. Before the brake was set, Jora had already bounced from the wagon’s bed. ‘Come on, Granny!’ she cried, grabbing the basket the old woman was handing over the side. The two pots of jam jostled against each other, their hard clay sides making a dull clanking sound.

‘Child, do be careful! I didn’t spend those hours bent over the Partridge-berry plants to have my good jam spilled all over the insides of this basket. I can feel my old back aching right now with the remembering!’ She turned back the napkin covering the contents of the basket and surveyed the contents. ‘Looks like they’re alright, then. ‘Long with the sweet buns your mother made.’ She handed the basket over the side once more, nodding favorably as the girl took the handle carefully.

‘Fálki, come round and give old gran a hand down, won’t you?’ The young man hurried to help her down. As she slid from the wagon bed, she spoke in a low undertone to him. ‘You’ve got it at hand, don’t you?’ His head nodded; his hand went to the small bulge inside his vest. ‘You just let your mother speak, y’hear? Then when I’ve said a few words, you come forward. Got that, sweetling?’ She patted his arm gently. From near the front of the wagon, Káta called out, gathering her flock about her.