Rudolpho was torn. He wanted to go off and explore this strange new place and all its wonderful people, but Laurelyn was right. He should probably help Maeve and Fionn. It would be hard to do, since they didn't seem to want him around. Or at least Maeve didn't. Fionn hadn't said anything either way. He scratched his head and decided. He would check on them and perhaps find some interesting things that way. Rudolpho darted off quietly to find Maeve and Fionn. He hoped they hadn't run into to trouble already. At least not without him.
[Ulric]
Ulric quickly took the opportunity to bathe, keeping his hammer nearby at all times, despite the relatively congenial greeting they had received. As he lay soaking in the water, he glanced ruefully at his clothing, which lay in a dirty pile beside the tub. Unfortunately, he didn't think he had enough time to do his laundry.
When his washing was complete, he climbed hesitantly back into his clothes. The gash at his back was already feeling better though, and his energy levels were returning slowly. He took a seat on the cold stone floor outside the bathing rooms, and waited for Laurelyn to return with news.
[Keir]
After eating probably more than his share of the food Sean delivered, Keir headed for the baths. Finding Ulric outside he was miffed that his delay meant bathing in water already soiled by the large warrior. Barely nodding an acknowledgment of the man's presence as he walked by he paused and looked at the partially healed scar on Ulric's back. "Hrrumph, well it appears you'll survive a while longer, rabbit slayer."
[Ulric]
The big man laughed at what he assumed was a joke.
"Indeed! And soon I'll be slaying larger things again, thanks to you, Master Healer!" He slapped the other's shoulder heartily in thanks.
"I hope I left water enough?" he smiled.
[Fionn]
The dark-haired Fhaolain finished towelling off and moved quickly to pull his breeches back on, lacing them around his waist. Moments before, a runner had arrived to fetch away the man with the scarred nose, Thomis Parch he had called himself, and he had seen fit to warn Fionn to watch himself here in the Dun of Bro'n. Even not knowing the local tongue, the man had caught the muttered curses and sideways glances. Fionn had merely let them slide off his shoulders, long accustomed to the distrust given to the Fhaolains. Maeve, though, obviously had been more than a bit upset ...
He looked up as the boy, Rudolpho, entered the bathing room that had been set up for the men, and swept the long wet hair back from his face, combing it with his fingers. "Madadh," he said, face briefly breaking into a smile. More than one in Laurelyn Hillrover's party had a healthy dose of the fey in them, even if of a different sort than was usually to be found in the highlands. He indicated with a wave of one hand that the tub was available for the boy's use, if he wanted it, and stooped to sweep up little Rue, who had been set in a basket off to one side. "Your turn," he murmured as he peeled back her blankets. One of the women had brought a large washbasin of warm water, and within minutes he had the infant undressed and dunked in. One hand cradled her head, and the other carefully laved her clean. Her eyes, dark as his own, had widened.
[Rudolpho]
Having never heard the strange word before, he assumed it meant hello. "Ummm..hi." He had smiled though, so that was a good sign. "I see you have her now. I guess Maeve is bathing huh?" He looked back and forth between Fionn and the baby. "I know you can't shake my hand right now, and that's okay, but we never really got to know each other. My name's Rudolpho and I know yours is Fionn. I hope I'm pronouncing that right." He looked again at the baby. "So are you her father?"
[Fionn]
Fionn lifted the infant from the water and placed her on an extra towel, managing to dry her off despite the waving fists and kicking feet. "Nay, Rudolpho," he answered, sounding as if his tongue found it difficult to wrap itself around the vowels in the boy's name. "Her da wanted her even less than Maeve does." He diapered her bottom and again folded her in soft woolen blankets, until only tufts of her black hair, and her black eyes above plump cheeks, could be seen. "She is my --" Fionn paused as he finished dressing and rearming himself, obviously searching for the right word. "Her da is my brother, by halves," he finally said, and lifted the infant to cradle her in one arm.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho had so many questions, he couldn't decide where to start. He finally decided not to. "Fionn, I'm sorry if I asked questions that were too personal. I have a lot more, but I don't want to ask things that aren't my business or that make you uncomfortable." He looked at the baby. "I guess I just find it hard to accept the fact that she has parents...but they don't wnat her. I would give..." His voice trailed off and his eyes betrayed his far away thoughts. As quickly as he had started, he shook his head, almost as a dog shakes off water, and continued. "I guess I just don't understand. I'd like to hear more about the whole thing some time if you have the time and inclination. Maybe you could teach me a little bit of your language?"
[Daron]
Daron quietly waited outside the bathing room set aside for the women for Maeve to finish bathing and leave. Then she entered, closed the door, stripped off her travel-stained clothes and stepped into the tub. Gradually, her aching muscles began to relax in the still-warm water. She scrubbed off the dirt and grime till her skin was pink. -Laundry can wait till later,- she thought, looking at her tunic and pants.
Feeling clean and refreshed, Daron decided to change into something a bit more festive. -I should also make a good impression for Laurelyn's people,- she thought, remembering the stares she and the others in the party received.
Daron stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping a towel about herself while she looked in her sack for what she wanted to wear. -Of course, it's at the very bottom,- she thought wryly, pulling out an emerald green gown that seemed to shimmer silver as the candle light caught it.
The artist dressed carefully, smoothing the full skirt down to remove the packing creases. -A perfect fit now,- she thought, satisfied, noting how the gown showed off her figure to perfection. She brushed her long dark hair till it fell in soft waves down her back and over her shoulders. Two small ivory combs traced with delicate silver filagree and tiny emeralds caught the hair at her temples and pulled it away from her face in a becoming manner. Her slightly pointed ears were revealed also. She found her emerald green tanned leather slipper-shoes decorated with delicate silver patterns and tiny emeralds and put them on as well.
Daron rummaged in her sack, pulled out a smaller sack, and stuffed her dirty clothes and boots into it to keep her other clothes clean. She put the smaller sack into the larger sack.
The artist left the bathing room, walked back to the room where she had been directed to spend the night and left the sack there. Then she waited in the hall outside the room for the others.
[Fionn]
"This may not be a good place for the telling of it," Fionn answered Rudolpho as they stepped out into the hall. The little man with the large stomach, Keir, looked as if he had had the wind knocked out of him. The large man, with the equally large hammer, Ulric, had the remnants of a smile on his face, and clothes as ill-fitted to a feast as Fionn's own hillsman's garb. Not that a feast with the Hillrover Chief in the Dun of Bro'n was likely to require much formality.
Someone should have told the woman that much. The highlander paused for just a moment before managing to cover his surprise by shifting Rue to his other arm. The girl was a vision, with her emerald gown and ivory combs, in the torchlight as fair a sight as Luatha herself. "If there be any Calhouns or MacRories with the Hillrovers this night," he continued to Rudolpho as he looked away from Daron, "ye may well hear it from them." Another door opened, and Maeve appeared, in the same simple dress and shawl, but with her wild red hair tied back. Pale and tired-looking, almost like a child.
[Keir]
Keir fought to keep from smiling back at Ulric but his glower couldn't hide it completely. "It's not the amount but the quality that concerns me." he grunted, trying to catch his breath. It was clear that he would be almost the last male in the group to bath. Doing his best to stomp, not easy when one is but three foot tall and slim, he moved past Fionn and Rudolpho into the bathroom. Hanging his vest on the hook so the baby rabbits were secure he began taking off his shirt and pants while staring at the murky water in the tub - fully expecting to see the jester's belled cap rise up from beneath the surface and making him absolutely last.
[Rudolpho]
"Well, I'd rather hear it from you I guess becuase things get twisted around when other people tell them or they are told too much." Rudolpho had continued speaking until he finally caught sight of Daron. "Wow. You look really pretty Daron. Where did you get the dress? I didn't know that this was going to be such a dress up event." He looked at his own clothes and swatted at them trying to get rid of some of the dust and stains. He turned to Maeve and smiled. "You look real nice too Maeve. I guess you clean up pretty nice. I guess I should clean up too, though I'm not sure I have too much time." He thought for a second then snapped his fingers. "I know. It'll only take me a few minutes anyway. Fionn, I meant it when i said I'd like to learn your language...if you'll teach me? Maybe you could help, too, Maeve?"
[Daron]
Daron looked over at Rudolpho. "Thank you, Rudolpho." She shyly smiled. "This was my mother's dress..." she said softly. "And...well..." She shrugged. "...well, I thought I should...you know...look nice for Laurelyn's family." Noticing his discomfort at his own appearance, she smiled warmly at him. "If you can find something suitable to wear in my sack, you're welcome to it. In fact..." Her dark brows furrowed in thought for a moment. "I'll be right back!"
The artist went into her designated room and rummaged in her sack once more. She returned with a royal blue tunic that also seemed to have a silvery shimmer to the fabric in the torchlight and intricate silver threadwork at the throat, cuffs and hem. "This should fit you just right, I think," Daron smiled, handing the tunic to Rudolpho.
[Jacques/Fiend]
With a somewhat muffled "yip", a familiar small brown pup came hurtling around a corner and nearly rand straight into Fionn's legs. He skidded to a halt on the stone floor, collapsing to a sit. There was a pause, and then the pup managed to right himself in Daron's direction and get back onto all fours - albeit with a slightly dazed and wobbly demeanour for a second.
Another yip - this too muffled by the bright, and fresh apparent rose he had been holding lightly in his mouth throughout. As Fiend stopped again, gazing up at Daron with wide, puppy brown eyes, Jacques came around the corner with bells ringing.
"Madame," he offered, and made a bow with a flourish of his hat, before replacing it firmly on his head. "Compliments of a young pup, and an old dog." He winked.
Somehow, despite not actually having entered the bathing room, he appeared to be clean and tidy. His uniform appeared to be neat and free of the road grime that had been accumulating over the last few days. And most of all, there was a light in his eyes that had been missing since their stop off at the inn in Helgastop.
People, at last! That meant money. And, hopefully, something approaching lager...
[Daron]
Daron knelt down gracefully before the puppy, gently taking the rose from his mouth. She looked up at Jacques, idly scratching the puppy behind his floppy ears. She knew then whose idea the present had been... A mischievous twinkle lit her emerald green eyes. "Thank you...both," Daron smiled. She sniffed the rose's heady perfume as she gracefully rose to her feet.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho looked at the clothing the Daron handed him. "Gee Daron, this is really nice and all, but where did you get it? How come you have clothes that would fit me in your traveling pack?" He looked back to her in obvious surprise and confusion.
[Daron]
Daron smiled at Rudolpho. "It used to be mine, but I..." She blushed slightly. "I...errr...outgrew it..."
A somber look briefly crossed her youthful features as an unbidden memory--of this room, of these actions, of these very words--rushed forward to her conscious thoughts. With deadly certainty she _knew_ she had seen this place before...though she had never set foot in these lands till now. "Something 'told' me to hold onto it," the artist said solemnly.
Then, just as suddenly, the feeling passed. Her smile returned, lighting her face. "And I want you to have it."
[Rudolpho]
"Well...um...thanks. I mean I appreciate it." he looked down at his shoes and kicked at the floor. It had been awhile since he had received something without having to con someone into giving it to him, playing on their sympathies, or just outright taking it. "Umm..if you'll excuse me, I have to go 'clean up'." With that he ran off. Unseen to to his traveling companions or anyone else, Rudolpho changed himself into an alley cat. He quickly cleaned himself up, as only a feline could, changed back to his human self, and donned his "new" clothes. The whole process only took him a few moments whereupon he joined the others.
"Thanks again Daron. It fits great!" he looked hiself over as best he could in his shimmering tunic and admired the embroidery on it. "It's been a long time..." he said absently.
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller hurried up the steps, and quickly noted that the others seemed to be dressed and near ready for the feast. With a brief nod she acknowledged their presence and after choosing her attire she hurried to the ladies bath tub.
[Keir]
Keir's stomach churned as he examined the disgusting flotsam of dirty soap suds and hairs of various colors and lengths, It was hard to take on an empty, or nearly empty, stomach. After skimming off as much of the debris as possible with the bathing ladle he lowered himself into the tepid water, grimacing at the scum that clung to his fur. From the smell of the Dun he wondered if the group was the first to use these facilities in ages and how anyone could tolerate the cold, dank musk that hung throughout the stone edifice. He hurriedly washed, as anxious to get to the promised dinner as to escape from the filthy cocktail he was immersed in.
Noting that more dirt came off in the towel than in the water he grunted at the baby rabbits who were peering at him from his vest pockets. "Just be glad your fur doesn't need cleaning." As he dressed he decided it would be best to leave his charges locked in the room while he and the others supped. "There are some here who'd like to see you cleaned and dressed for dinner little ones." Though he still felt cold and damp he whistled as he left the room.
[Thomis]
The Oath-bound paused for only a moment, but a perceptible one, obviously trying to decide whether the tone of the conversation already had changed now that Laurelyn had left the room. He could imagine several directions the discussion could take, from light-hearted to deadly serious, depending on how the Chief cared to take his measure. "Brandy," he answered, taking the chair and automatically adjusting it so that he could see all entrances into the room. Was it Laurelyn or her father who had made that note of unease return? The storyteller had said the highlands were a bloody place, with their own deadly schemes, and Brion had as much as said the same.
[Acair]
Acair poured them each a snifter of brandy - though the small glasses were quite plain, and settled himself in a chair that faced Thomis but which also had a good view of the room. "I'm not without some news," he said, "Of what brought you and your friends to Morrow's Hold, and led my brother away. Nor are we entirely ignorant of Montfort's battles.....But what I am ignorant of is what haunts my Laurelyn?"
He shook his head - for a moment the firelight highlighting the weathering and lines in his proud face, and said, "Thomis, I would wish to drink this brandy in leisure and talk with ye till the stars were high overhead - for that is the best time to see the honest side of man - when he is drunk on good liquor and philosophy. But as ye and I both know, we only have a wee bit of time so I will cut to the heart of the matter. What drives her - and you - to seek a damned legend?"
[Thomis]
"For her, guilt," he said simply. Brion might have found it easier to explain to his brother, for the warpiper had read the burden in Laurelyn's face. "She found herself caught in schemes for which she was ill-prepared." He sipped the brandy, allowing the alcohol to fill his mouth before swallowing. "And she blames herself for what she sees as collaboration with the Republic, though her only other option would have been a futile, and fatal, stand on principle." Thomis' tone indicated nothing more than his own agreement with the choices Laurelyn had made, for in fact if he had ever been confronted directly with such a decision, he would have done much the same in order to keep his own Oath to protect Drywen.
[Acair]
For long moments Acair studied the rich hues of his brandy - as if he would like to swallow the burning liquid in one mouthful. At last he looked up, his eyes looking older, and said, "Nor would it enter her head to ride clear .... Growing up between sea and stone leaves little room for cloud dreams, but there's enough idealism there to give her a heavy conscience." He shook his head, "It was that idealism that made it easier for her to sail away with a traveling musician than stay in the hills and train as a bard....she could understand the concepts of clan honor and loyalty, but not the price in blood that they demand." Though his voice was as quiet as one of his size could make it the old hurt still echoed there, but so did love.
Acair looked up and said, "Ye have answered one of my questions, and before we go to the welcoming feast can ye answer another.....What held _ye_ in the Gods' cursed town of Montfort, and what drives you now on a mad quest? For even if "The Star Dreamer" is more than a drunken sailor's nightmare it is still madness to pursue a cursed ship." Perhaps he had already surmised most of the answer, but he still sought it from Thomis's own lips.
[Thomis]
"My Oath held me there." One hand touched the silver link chain around his neck briefly, as if it thrummed with the ties that still bound him. "To guard the back of another idealist until he was apprenticed and safely away from it." Thomis did not add that once that had been done, his absence from Drywen's side was required for the apprenticeship to have a chance at success. In the end, after losing her grandson, Lanaera had been willing to accept Mesani's peace-offering -- her own grandson, for training -- but she never would have accepted Thomis' presence in the household.
"As for following your daughter, I have followed others on more foolish quests, by choice and by vow. This one is by choice." He held the brandy glass between his hands and met the chieftain's gaze with his own level stare. "If she will have me."
[Acair]
"I think she will," Acair said in acknowledgement, with a quiet smile. "And though I can't put words in my daughter's mouth - I can at least make things a tad easier and say that I can see good sense in her choice."
He took a hefty sip of his brandy and said, "Though there are things that I wish to discuss we the pair of ye I'd say that for now we enjoy the brandy. Then dress for food."
[Thomis]
"I am afraid I am as nicely dressed as I can be. I hope the food will take no offense." The clothes he wore were simple, but at least they were clean and well mended. "And further talk can wait for later, as you think best. Though if there is reason to be ... wary ... at the feast ...?" he prompted gently. Something had set Laurelyn's teeth on edge, and the tension had been noticeable, something more than a daughter introducing a man to her father.
[Acair]
The Chief nodded and finished his brandy in one last swallow. Then he met Thomis's eyes and said, "Not at the feast, but Gairge and his close kin have been stirring up trouble of late - they're why we retook the Dun of B'ron. Their lands are nearby and they've been claiming that the McLenans have been comin' in on raids. And there was evidence enough." He stood and the firelight made it seem that his eyes burned with pent anger, "But I'm not to sure if they didn't start the raiding."
After setting down his glass - hard - he asked, "Did Laurelyn tell anything about the history of the Dun?"
[Thomis]
"No." There had been little time or opportunity, and neither Maeve nor Fionn had volunteered any information they might have. But it sounded as if the Hillrover chief had on his hands a clan feud not of his wanting, and restless cousins spoiling for a confrontation. "Fort of Sorrows?" Thomis ventured. "I take it the name was well-earned."
[Acair]
"Aye....," Acair said. He looked around the ancient room - and if he wasn't seeing real ghosts he was remembering the history and the blood split. "The Hillrovers and the McLenans have fought over this Dun for centuries - each holding it for a spell before it falls to the other's hands. During me father's time my uncle was the Clan's warpiper - as Brion is now - and he was taken captive when the McLenans recaptured the Dun."
As he spoke the Chief seemed to be listening - as if waiting to see if some sign was to be given. But the walls remained silent stone. "Now I don't know what ye're folk are like and if they have any regard for Pipers but amongst the clans they are next to sacred - so me uncle was treated with honor even in captivity. Until the night he stood on the battlements and saw his chief and clan marching unawares towards a now unfriendly dun - so he lifted his pipes and played a warning ...... His Chief heard and was saved but my uncle was cruelly executed - nor do any of us know where he was buried. But what we do know is that when danger threatens the Hillrovers near this Dun he plays that tune....."
[Thomis]
For a moment, Thomis made no answer, as if listening for the sound of the bagpipes. "Blood marks a place, even when it seems washed away," he said quietly. "Such places are known in my homeland, where the echoes of the dead remain. The blood has marked wood and stone and earth of those places. And the survivors." No piper could be heard here, in this room with the Hillrover chieftain, but for a moment a memory of crimson-slicked walls passed across the surface of Thomis' thoughts. "May the songs tonight be merry."
[Acair]
The Chief nodded - seeing in Thomis's face the flicker of memories. Some probably as grim as his own. "So it shall be ordered," he finally said with an empty laugh, "So that for a while we can forget the blood that lays in these halls and welcome friends and family amongst us."
As he led the way to
the door he looked at Thomis and said, "So that privately I can celebrate
that Laurelyn has found a good companion - whatever paths you may walk."