Duty Calls

[Forest near Llwyn Newyth]



It was a cool brisk morning in the Forest area near Llwyn Newyth. Aemrys was wearing his regular clothing that made him look more like a peasant than a noble. His wore his brown boots and brown leather pants with his sword Valiant hanging from his side. It was an early morning for the young lord as he went around the forest of the city for a very important meeting.


Aemrys rode alone to the area of the forest where he would have a special guest. He galloped with one of the houses brown horses. Even though he was not the best rider was proficient. The cool wind brushed upon his face as he finished riding.


As the young lord stopped his horse he noticed that there was a wooden bridge that looked study. Underneath the bridge there was a 10 foot drop and a river with a strong current. The young lord unmounted from his horse and walked towards the boy.


The boy was roughly about 8 years old and was relatively thin. His face has somewhat dirty. He boy had brown hair and green eyes. His skin was pale but was covered with some dirt. His clothes were simple indicating that he had a peasant origin. Looking at the kid lord smiled and said "Oren, you need to cross that bridge".


Aemrys attempted to hide his small laughter. He had promise Oren that today he would accompany him to cross the "scary" bridge. Even though most Lords would not bother with such a trivial task it made feel him part of the clan. His father taught him to serve the people and there is more way than one to serve.


Oren looked down and said "It is not me, I don't have a problem crossing the bridge…it's my donkey Sarah that is scared and I can't leave here behind. Sarah told me that she is scared that she is going to fall".


Aemrys looked at the child and then to the donkey. As he looked at the donkey he could help to notice that it was a regular donkey just being held by the reigns by the small child. It was important for the clan that this child be able to overcome his fear and to start working. The young lord understood that the fall and the water might be a scary sight for some of the kids. "Well, Sarah is a very smart Donkey…it is a scary river…maybe Sarah needs someone to show her that the bridge is safe".


The young lord mounted his horse and controlled his horse to walk though the bridge. Within a couple of minutes he croess the bridge and had his horse turn around and head back to Oren. As he finished crossing the bridge he stood mounted as he spoke to the Oren and said "I think Sarah can see that the bridge is safe…we can cross this bridge together if you want"


Oren nodded as he took the Donkey into the reings and started to walk the Donkey across. As they the young lord rode the attempted to slow his pace down to match the speed of the boy. Oren looked at Aemrys and said "I wish my friend…Sarah, was never scared like you, it is hard to show her not to be scared, she noticed you are never scared".


As they kept riding Aemrys smiled and said "Can I tell you and Sarah and secret and promise not the tell anyone?" Oren nodded. Playing alone the young Lord inquired "And Sarah does the promise?" Oren looked at the Donkey and said "She promises too".


He looked up ahead for a second to make sure he was still going straight and then looked at the boy and the donkey "The Truth is…I always have fear…but you know what? I trust my Clan to protect me and that is what allows me to overcome my fears…so Sarah should keep that in mind."


Before the boy could respond Aemrys heard two riders coming from a distance and they were riding hard and fast. Sensing that this was out of the ordinary he stopped his horse and turned it around. As the boy continued walking Aemrys said "Go ahead, don't worry we will talk later".


Aemrys started to ride his horse across the bridge again when he spotted two guards from wearing their clan symbol. One of the riders wearing their traditional military outfit looked at the young lord and said "My Lord, your father has summoned you at the High Table".


Aemrys looked at the guards and said "Very well, we shall make hast then". The young lord began riding back into the City and the Hall.


[High Table Hall - Llwyn Newyth]


The ride back was a little shorter than he expected. Even though the region was a little mountainous the Aemrys grew up in this region. As he arrived he did not take the time to change his clothing from the usual outfit.


The guards opened the doors for him as he entered the great hall. He observed his father in his regular seat reading over a document. "Not a good sign" the Young Lord though. As he entered the room he heard the doors behind him being closed as the guards wanted to give them privacy. At the side he noticed his Aunt which he nodded to her.


As he entered the room he noticed that it was in complete silence. "Father, why have we been summoned here?" inquired Aemerys as he looked to his father for answers.

@merthencadag / @regancadag / Eirian Connell

Merthen patiently endured the short wait until his family members filed in. First his sister Eirian appeared, followed shortly by his eldest son and heir Aemrys, who was in turn followed a few steps behind by Regan. All inquired about the reasons for the summons - perhaps some with slightly more decorum than others, as his wife noted when she gave their son a stern talking-to for speaking to his father thusly. Merthen found it hard to blame him. By the looks of it, Aemrys had been out and about again, and he had obviously been called away from something he deemed important.

Merthen looked up to regard his wife and son serenely, with a hint of a kind smile. He had to support his wife, but all the same he wouldn't perhaps have reacted to Aemrys in the same manner. "Don't worry yourself for me, dearest," he said gently. She knew, after all, that he was not easily angered or slighted. "I would have asked the same question, although perhaps in a slightly different manner."

He regarded the rest of them, showing - in case it hadn't been clear already - the royal seal on the missive. "His Majesty the King summons us to Bordelaix," he explained. "He has decided to name his daughter, Princess Nicolette, heir to the throne, and requires us to attend her coronation and renew our oaths of fealty." He looked again at each of them, then back at the message. "We keep our oaths, so I will go, that is settled," he commented. "But there is, of course, more to the matter. This is a big decision, and people are bound to try to further their position on the back of it. Our brethren up north are not bound to all unequivocally support that decision, and someone might make trouble because of it." He left it all unsaid: where there was trouble, it would eventually reach Vulcanis. The lands of the clans were far too rich and strategic to be left in peace.

@regancadag, @aemrys, Eirian Connell

Merthen considered this for a while. It was a valid question. If they were able to prevent a succession crisis from tugging their people along into the heat of the fire, they were honour-bound to do so. It would take some time coming, he estimated. One did not simply ignore the commands of His Majesty the King, even in his old age. "I don't think it will erupt that quickly," he declared, employing the familiar metaphore of the vulcano, "but there are bound to be rumblings."



He considered the nature of these rumblings further. The Sandovals, of course, would be the most obvious threat. They had never fully come round to accepting the Deveraux ascendancy, even after centuries. Also the most simple one to deal with: they were not native to Archades, not related to the Clans as the present Royal House was. Since High Laird Willbrard, the Clans had stood united behind their Deveraux kinsmen, who would always be of the Clans even though they were no longer a Clan. The Sandovals and their allies in the North were of different stock and different culture, and when they had come to Archades centuries ago they had tried to force those customs, including their strange worship of a three-faced god, on the peoples of their newly-won Kingdom. No matter how different House Deveraux had become, they were still of the same blood and followed the Maker. They would have far greater incentives to protect their kin in Vulcanis.



The big question Merthen did not know the answer to was whether House Deveraux itself would be united behind Princess Nicolette. With the succession unclear, many had assumed that the son of the King’s younger brother, Prince Stéphane, would be the one to succeed to the throne. If he decided to press his claim, he would become a rallying point for those who wanted to resist a woman holding the throne in Bordelaix. Even among the Clans he could not guarantee support for one or the other – he was prepared to give Nicolette a chance, but were the others? And would the Cruachs try to break the Cadag line of High Lairds by rallying support to another claimant, Stéphane or even the Sandovals, should he openly declare for Nicolette?



“We’ll have to see once we’re there,” he said, deferring judgment. “It will depend on whether the other Clans are prepared to give the Princess a chance, whether there is another claimant and whether that murderous snake Vortigern and his Cruach brood will dare to declare for another – even a Sandoval – just to spite us.” He paused for a moment to cool the anger that had crept in as his words turned to the man who had killed his father. “Maker willing, we will be able to find a solution once we know. But we’ll need to speak to the Lairds, the Dukes and to the Deverauxs. Maybe we should leave Artur there for another day.



@aemrys / Eirian Connell / @regancadag / @arturcadag (if he is in Llwyn Newyth)

"Good day to all, a pleasure to be offered the chance to see you, each and every one."

A gentle and well practiced curtsy was bobbed to brother in law and sister in law, before she settled into the chair her spouse offered her. Each person in the room was given a warm smile, but she remained silent save a quick greeting, curious as to the reason for the meeting. She did not want to delay the satisfaction of learning the essence of whatever concern or triumph might be announced.

As ever the eldest of her husband's siblings bore the weight of his duties with seeming heartfelt concern. In all her dealings with Merthen she had seen evidence of his compassion, never could she recall a time of lashing out in anger or heated temper. Perhaps he had a side that was like that, but if so, it must be held in tight check. She would have to remember to question Artur about such later, had Merthen always been this way, or had his youth been peppered with wry misbehavior and tempestuous acts? Somehow she doubted it.

As for the others here, she had been blessed in her family by marriage. Many women had wed only to find the siblings, parents, and extended kinsfolk of their new husband to be less than tolerable. A few friends sprang to mind, and in part, this was one reason she had not rushed into a marriage at a very young age. She'd bided her time, letting her own mind mature, seeking knowledge of self and of the world, before truly agreeing fully to Artur's proposal of marriage. Some might consider his the longest debated upon proposal in the last hundred years. He'd asked, well more announced, his desire to wed her when he was but a lad of five. Twenty years later she'd made good on his hope and demand.

Her hand found his, slim fingers linking with his own. His family were good people, Artur had brought her to a safe place, and had seen to every want with dedication and caring. He was surprisingly intuitive and she often found herself at a loss with how well he could just tell when she needed his attention, a little gift, a small note to remind her she was highly regarded and loved. He had never made her feel like something to be claimed or used, he was careful in that, as so few husbands seemed to be, to regard her as an equal and trusted teammate in the shifting board of political play.

So what would the game board offer up for today. Merthen's statement seemed to imply t'would not be boring. She smiled a little to herself. Good. Boring was overrated, she thrived in the sweet rush of high maintenance situations, where the tables could turn at any second. Maybe he'd offer something of that sort? A woman could hope, yes?


@arturcadag / @merthencadag / @aemrys / Eirian Connell / @regancadag

As the Lady of Llywen Neweth, Regan's place was often to remain in the city as her husband was summoned north to attend the King's will and show his loyalty. The role of High Laird and Steward was a burden that Merthan weathered with grace, she knew, but it carried a good amount of weight and responsibility that most men would come to resent too. She looked up and smiled in welcome when Artur and Vittoria arrived, their timing impeccable as the subject of the King's summons was put onto the table.

She was reminded that a visit to those twin children was probably in order, the better to give the younger couple a little time to be alone. Regan was mother to four active children, readily able to handle two rogue toddlers for a few hours. Aemrys had been a well-behaved little boy, but her middle children were full of feisty spirits and adventurous natures that led them into scrapes more often then not. Trusting they would enjoy an afternoon or two to be adults, Regan intended to make her offer after the meeting.

There was little enough for her to offer to the discussion until Merthen mentioned the Cruach clan and the possibility that they'd declare for the Sandovals just to embarrass and spite him. She made a face then, but Merthen's question kept her from asking her own. Interested in the answer, she looked to Artur and Vittoria for their response, taking a minute to add, "Eirian might be wise to join them as well, Merthen." For reasons she didn't want to get into but it was time for her sister in law to rejoin the living.


@merthencadag, Eirian Connell, @aemrys @arturcadag, @vittoria

"Finnian is getting quite the arm on him. Took out three teapots this week with his wooden soldier toy. We need stouter tea ware, or softer playthings." She smiled wanly, indulgent, for it mattered more to her that her son be strong and in charge, like his father was, a man of many means, and the smarts, skill, and strength, to back up his desire and demands when he reached his majority, than it meant to have a few intact teapots.

As to the business at hand, she sat, listening to the talk of changes, and when Artur read she leaned in, able to look over the gist of the thing for herself. Interesting. It was something she had to admit, might not be a bad thing.......depending on who the lady wed. That was it, right then and there, wasn't it? She'd be a queen in her own right, but once wed, might that change? Vittoria, for a moments time, placed herself in the young princess's oh so royal shoes. Might be better to never wed and name a nephew as an heir.

It would mean no love, no babes of her own, but it might quell much rebellion, angst, and turmoil as each house vied to place its finest son on the most valued chair in all the land. The throne.

A nod backed up Artur's words, agreeing in companionable silence to his offer to take up a mantle of watchers in the night, and readers of the portents of a murky future as best they were able. It would mean parties, 'friendships', ploys, plots, allies and...collateral damage, perhaps.

She could live with that.

She was bred for this, was she not?

At the mention of her good sister attending to the work of gleaning truths in order that the Cadag family's interests, lands, and lives be best protected, she thought Eirian a capitol good choice. Loyal to a fault, gentle as sweet spring rain, no one would ever suspect such an angel face of anything but goodness and charity towards all.

"I should like to have the happy honor of having you with us, lady sister. Please say yes, before I beg this of you. Please. Come. Come and let us have an adventure." Bright warm hazel eyes went from the rest to Eirian as she spoke, a little nod of encouragement following.

"Please? It'll be far less fun without you. Artur and I insist." Because yes, it was time to live again, and what better way to take a first step, than to take a step with purpose?

So Vittoria played unfairly now... in the thought that it was for Eirian's own good.

"Your brother and I cannot do it alone.."

They could.

"We are only two of us."

And two could oft do what ten and twenty could not.

"Your help would be valued, your allegiance assured and loyalty unquestionable."

That was true.

"We'd be doing important things. And keeping loved ones safe."

If all went well, at least.

"Say yes. Please?"

And with her case laid gently before Eirian, with a little look of coaxing hope, Vittoria Cadag waited to see if the young woman might reach at last, for the light of the living again.


@arturcadag / @merthencadag / @aemrys / Eirian Connell / @regancadag