Preparations for Vadra, Edmond (solo), July 14, late afternoon

[Edmund Mallory]

The mid-summer sun still beat down into the courtyard, though late afternoon shadows had already filled the corners and were creeping up the walls. Edmond wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. One bead, however, escaped to trickle down into his eye. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and biting back a curse. The two year old was nervous. They were almost done with the shoeing and Edmond was anxious to get finished and on to the next fifteen things that had to be seen to before the morning. Making a soft crooning noise instead, he shook the halter gently to get the colt’s attention.

The head groom had been called away to see to some mix-up with the storage of the first cut of hay. When Edmond had been striding quickly across the yard twenty minutes ago, intent on getting to the armory to see his master-at-arms, the colt was skittering about. An under groom was yanking hard on the end of the lead rope, swearing under his breath, his face red and damp with sweat. Edmond had changed course in mid-stride and quietly approached the pair. This was no time to give the man the chewing out he deserved, and would most certainly receive once the shoeing was complete. Reaching for the lead, he gestured with his head for the man to get out of the way. With a few clucking sounds, in a few moments he had worked his way all the way to the halter. Stroking the colt’s nose, he continued making various soft, soothing sounds until the animal’s eyes stopped rolling and it was intent on listening to him. The four feet stopped tap dancing about and he patted its chest. The colt stood four square and Edmond had nodded to the smith.

Things had gone smoothly since then, and Edmond did not begrudge the excitable animal the time he devoted to seeing the job was done correctly. Horses, like all animals, were simple creatures which acted without malice, without a hidden agenda. If you understood them, everything they did was reasonable and predictable. Unlike humans. That the afternoon was wearing on and he still had so much to do before they set out tomorrow didn’t make him anxious or impatient. Whatever had to be done would get done, if he had to stay up half the night to make sure it did. Edmond Mallory never did anything half-ass. Nor did he allow the people who served him to do so either. A stinging drop of sweat in his eye was hardly enough to disturb his focus.

One last fitting, and the shoe was ready to be nailed on. The smith tapped away with his hammer and the colt swiveled its ears backwards and forwards a few time, but stood quietly. Finally, with a grunt, the smith straightened. “Done, m’lord.”

“Good.” Edmond looked around the yard and spotted the under groom hovering not too far off. He beckoned to the man who came sheepishly forward. Still unwilling to neglect something that needed to be done despite his pressing business, he held the lead out to the man. “Stable him, then return here.” Edmond said curtly. Pushing his hand through his hair as the man did as he was bid, Edmond realized that he was in need of a hair cut. There would be no time for that though. He would have one of his men do it while they were in transit to Vadra. Making a mental note to be sure to pack scissors, he waited for the groom to return.

In a matter of minutes the man was returning, head down and looking quite unhappy. Edmond was a fair master, and his servants and retainers generally had few complaints of the treatment they received. But they all knew that he absolutely would not tolerate even the slightest mistreatment of the horses. One mishandled situation was enough to sour a good horse for life. The groom came to a halt a few paces away, eyes fixed on the ground.

“How long have you been working with the horses, man?” Edmond was not one to raise his voice. It was naturally deep and he could make it carry without much effort.

“A year or so, m’lord. Came up from the long barn. Head groom said would I like to work for him ‘n’ I said yeh.”

Edmond scrutinized the man with a dispassionate stare. “And who taught you to handle a horse?”

“You did m’lord.” The man’s voice sounded quite shamed.

“And what did I teach you about handling a horse? What’s the first rule of being around them?”

The man shuffled his feet a bit. Then, “Patience, m’lord. You told me to be patient.”

Edmond nodded even though the man was still looking down. “So what happened? You lost control of that animal – what did it do?” This was the test. The man’s answer would determine what Edmond would do with him.

The man hesitated, made a false start, then tried again. “I . . . I wasn’t watching him, m’lord. He got out too far on the rope. I tried to pull him in and he jerked and . . . well, I got a bit irritated.”

Good. The man seemed willing to own up to his errors at least. That was a start. “Losing your patience gets you nowhere with a horse. You lost sight of that. That sort of lapse can cost you your life. And you put others at risk as well. One moment of inattention or anger can ruin a horse forever. Do you remember me teaching you that as well?”

The man nodded his head but still would not look Edmond in the eye, which was a bit troubling. Honest men could look you in the eye, even when they were in the wrong.

The shadows were growing longer by the minute. Edmond would not fool around with a fool any longer than required. “I’ll tell Martin that you’re not to be handling the horses for now. When I return, we’ll see how your work has been and we can reconsider that.” Elijah Mallory, Edmond’s father, had taught him that it never did to take away all hope from a man. Allowing them a chance to redeem themselves left them feeling less humiliated and resentful. “In the meantime, watch Martin and refresh your memory of how to treat these animals. We’ll speak when I come back from Vadra.”

The man knuckled his forehead respectfully. “Aye, m’lord.” Edmond turned on his heel, putting the matter from his mind as his thoughts turned to all he had still to do. Thirty minutes later than he had originally planned, he finished crossing the yard and went through a door into the armory.

[Edmund Mallory]

His cousin’s request had come at a somewhat inopportune time. Then again, when would have been an opportune time for Edmond to leave Dvanna for several months to go play politics? It wasn’t a game he was greatly interested in, being content to let Christopher, as Head of House Mallory, exert whatever efforts he could to maintain, or further, their house’s fortunes. As acting Regent of House Lanier this past year, however, he was finding it was going to be difficult to stay out of the game completely.

But summer was such a busy time! Whether his family, his household, the entire town, in fact, enjoyed a winter with sufficient food and fuel, and relative comfort, depended completely on what transpired over the course of the five or so months of the growing season. May through September was the worst time to go traipsing off after the bloody king. Edmond understood the necessity for Chris to be tagging along behind Alrik Sterlyn. He had been hoping to avoid that for himself. Chris had written, on the one hand to request Edmond personally oversee the delivery of nine of their horses to him at Vadra. On the other hand, well . . . that reason was perhaps a bit more obscure. In any event, Chris had asked. Edmond would oblige. Not only from his sense of duty to the Head of his family House, but also out of the affection and friendship the two cousins shared.

The evening meal had just finished, a hasty affair despite the presence of his mother, Padma Mallory. Under other circumstances, Edmond would have ensured that his mother was treated to a fine meal with many courses, singing and music, and his undivided attention as she regaled him with the goings on at his family home in Saefa. But her carriage had suffered a broken wheel and her arrival to Castle Corry had been delayed by two entire days. Jenn and Bess had been ecstatic to see their “other” grandmother, and had easily convinced her to allow them to sit, one on each side of her, at the top table. So Edmond had barely been able to get a word in edgewise, amongst the three of them. The dinner had been adequate, but not elaborate, and now Edmond found himself rising, bowing respectfully to Padma, and getting ready to hurry off to all that awaited him still.

“Papa!” six year old Bess protested. “Don’t go yet! You promised you would see us to bed!” She pouted slightly in her charming little girl way. Edmond’s younger step-daughter was far from petulant, but she certainly knew how to wrap him about her very little finger.

“Yes, yes, sweetheart.” He assured her, with a pat to her rosy cheek. “But I have to talk to the kennelman first. Run along with your sister, and Nana will tuck you in. I’ll be along directly.”

Jenn put on her “patient angel” face. “Don’t worry, Papa. I’ll make sure Bess washes her face and hands before we go to bed.” That girl was eight going on thirty, Edmond thought in amusement, chucking her under the chin.

“I appreciate that, princess. Perhaps Nana can tell you both a story and then I’ll pop in and say good night.”

“And good bye?” Bess asked sadly. “Will we see you in the morning?”

Edmond’s gaze went to the back of the hall where his kennel master was just leaving. “I’m not sure, sweetheart. Now run along and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Promise.”

It was more like half an hour before Edmond had finished discussing matters with his kennelman. One of their best bitches was due to whelp in just a few days and Edmond hoped things would go smoothly. Normally, he would have made the effort to be present himself for the event. He had always had a very hard time delegating tasks to others. Now, as acting head of an entire house, he was used to getting only a few hours sleep a night and devoting the other 21 or so hours in a day to overseeing everything that went on at Corry and the fields beyond. A state of physical and mental exhaustion when he finally fell into his bed at night had its benefits.

Upon entering the girls’ chamber, Edmond nodded respectfully to his mother, who sat upon a stool beside their bed. Their nursemaid, Colette, quietly moved about the room, folding clothes and straightening things up. Padma rose and went to her son. Taking his hands in hers, she kissed his cheek. “There. I know you’ll try to be off before it’s light tomorrow. I didn’t want to miss the chance to kiss you good-bye.” She smiled gently and put her hand to his cheek. “You looked tired, Edmond. You work too hard.”

“I only do as much as needs to be done, mother. For a place this size, that’s quite a bit.” He smiled down at her, knowing that she knew this was just an excuse. She had been through those two years with Regan as well – they all had. Being a mother, she knew his pain. Being a woman, she knew the futility of trying to tell him how to conduct his life. “I do plan on being gone by the time the cock crows. No need to rouse the whole house though. We’re ninety-five percent ready, and will be one hundred percent before midnight. You need your rest. It will be a long trip back to Saefa with those two imps in tow.” He glanced fondly at the children, already snuggled under the sheets.

“Oh, you know I’ll enjoy the trip back more than the coming.” She said smiling back at him. “There very good girls, and they’ll be better company than a troop of men. I know they’re excited about getting to see everyone again, especially Anthony.”

Edmond chuckled. “Yes, it’s all they’ve talked about this last week. I’m very glad, and thankful, that you agreed to come fetch them and keep them for me.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” she replied happily. “I’ve missed them, you know. Your father will be delighted to have them with us again, too, although he might not admit it.”

Edmond’s appointment as regent to another house had not come without a price, one paid by more than just himself. The girls’ other grandmother was much mollified to have them return to Dvanna. Lady Lanier and her late husband, the former Head of House Lanier, had put up quite a fuss about their son’s widow taking the children to their new step-father’s home in Saefa four years ago. Bridges had been mended somewhat since that time. But Jenn and Bess had been a bit heartbroken to leave the home and family they had known, to move back to a place which was not in their young memories. Likewise, Edmond’s family, his parents in particular, were sad that the girls had to go. That was one silver lining to his trip to Vadra, Edmond had thought. The children could spend the summer with his family, which would be a pleasure to them all.

Edmond kissed his mother on the top of her head, crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Both girls sprang up and threw their arms around his neck. Kisses and hugs were delivered and received with great energy, and Edmond finally got them settled back under the coverlet.

“Do you really have to go away, Papa?” Bess asked plaintively.

“Yes, my love. I must. You know I must take the horses to your Lord uncle.”

“How many days journey is it Papa?” Jenn asked. She was quite the scholar and always had many questions for anyone who cared to stop and answer them for her.

“It should take about four weeks, love. Perhaps a bit less. We should be able to travel fairly quickly, as we won’t have a carriage and wagon, as you and your Lady Grandmother will.”

“What if there are bandits on the way?” Bess asked, wide eyed. “Will you take your sword, Papa?”

Edmond laughed. “Well, I doubt we will encounter bandits – the King’s roads are fairly safe. But, yes, I’ll be sure to take my sword, sweetheart.”

“That’s who Lord Christopher is with, right Papa? The King – King Sterlyn.” Jenn spoke with a tentative air of knowledge.

“As far as I know, Jenn. Much of the court is traveling with the king, but I don’t know if they all travel together all the time.”

“Will you get to meet the king, Papa?” Bess’ mouth formed an excited “o”. “Maybe you will meet a princess – a real, live princess!”

‘Of course he will, silly.” Jenn spoke with the superior authority of the two year advantage she had over her sister. “If there’s a king, there’s bound to be princesses, and princes.” She looked at Edmond for confirmation. “Right, Papa?”

“Princes?” Bess practically squealed in delight. “Oh, Papa! Can I go with you? Please? Please? I do so want to meet a real prince!”

Edmond shook his head in mock dismay. “What? You’re ready to go off and leave me so soon? For a Prince?”

The girls giggled and he tickled them under their chins. A reproachful cough from the redoubtable Colette caused Edmond to put a conspiratorial finger to his lip. “Shhhh! Don’t get me in trouble! Pretend to be sleeping.”

Jenn and Bess immediately lay back on their pillows and started a raucous snoring - all part of the game they perpetually played with each other, pretending to “outwit” their maid, who was really an exceptionally kind-hearted woman. This didn’t last long, though, and first Bess’s eyes popped open, then Jenn’s.

“Will you sing us a lullaby, Papa?” Jenn asked cajolingly. She knew he didn’t particularly like to sing, having a voice somewhat like a frog’s. But as she lay there looking up at him with those big, brown eyes, the mirror of her mother’s, he knew he could deny her nothing.

“Yes, Papa, please sing.” Bess added her piping little voice, her big blue eyes equally as impossible to resist. If Edmond Mallory had one chink in his rock hard armor, well, two actually, they were these two little girls.

“Alright, my loves. But only if you promise to go to sleep directly I’m finished.”

The girls nodded solemnly, and settled down once more. Edmond cleared his throat a little self-consciously and began, in a low, slightly off key voice.

Where oh where have you been my love
Where oh where can you be
It’s been so long since the moon has gone
And oh what a wreck you’ve made me
Are you there over the ocean
Are you there up in the sky
Until the return of my love, this lullaby

My hope is on the horizon
In every face, your eyes I can see
I plead and pray though each night and day
Our embrace is only a dream
As sure as days come from moments
Each hour becomes a lifetime
When you left, I had only begun this lullaby

[Edmund Mallory]

Edmond lay on his bed, eyes open, tracing the design of the curtained canopy over his head. Midnight had long come and gone, but it was still too hot for a coverlet, as far as he was concerned. So he lay on top of the sheets, bare and still slightly damp from the quick bath he had taken to wash away this long day’s sweat and grime. Although he had always been a hard worker, never one to shirk a dirty job if it had to be done, he was also conscientious, if not quite fastidious, about getting back to a state of cleanliness when he could. He hated to go to bed dirty. Regan had teased him about that, when they had first been married. He had thought, though, that she had secretly appreciated not having a smelly, sweaty animal sharing her bed. Well, one more thing he had got wrong.

With his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes, knowing this would not bring sleep. But he wanted to run over the list, one more time, and this would help him focus, he hoped. Chris’ letter had arrived two weeks ago, and Edmond had begun making his preparations to travel right away - preparations to leave, more accurately. The traveling part was the least of his worries. Leaving the care of the house, the fields, the horses and the sheep and other livestock, the business ventures, everything that entailed ‘House Lanier’, to others, was a thing he was loathe to do. Thank the gods that Old Simon was here. Simon had been steward to House Lanier time out of mind. Even he wasn’t quite sure of the year of his birth, but the man must have been at least 70, a venerable age. Short, gnarled, wrinkled, he looked like a puff of strong wind might blow him away.

But anyone who made the mistake of thinking Simon a frail old pensioner suited to spending the day in the inglenook, ruminating on past glories of youth, soon found themselves corrected. For two weeks, Edmond and Simon had consulted together constantly, hour after hour, as they toured the barns, the stables, the kennels, the mews, out to the fields and through the town, talking over every minute detail of what had been done, what was being done, and what needed to be done still. Old Simon had trudged along at Edmond’s side, never flagging, never questioning his master’s attention to minutia that might drive another man wild with boredom or irritation. For Simon was cut out of the same material as Edmond in that regard. Know your business like you know your own reflection in the looking glass, and your business would flourish. Look it in the eye, see the faults, the shortcomings, the potential for growth or change, and keep a steady course. Pay attention to every last bushel of grain and newborn piglet, and you would reap the rewards. And Old Simon was not one to shrink from imposing that philosophy on all those who worked under him. His mind and step were as sharp as his personality could be if he thought someone was skiving off their duties. If there was anyone Edmond could partially trust with the running of this House, it was Old Simon.

Lady Lanier would be here as well, to back up the steward. Her mind was still every bit as sharp as her tongue always was. Her step, though, was almost non-existent. Bent and twisted with the stiffening pain which so often afflicted the aged, she was confined to being transported in a chair, and spent her days in her own solar for the most part. Still, it was amazing how much she knew about the goings on at Corry and all around Dvanna. The servant grape vine was fully functional here, as it was in most households, and Lady Lanier’s maids usually knew the latest happenings before even Edmond did. At least between Simon and the dowager Lady, Edmond knew none of the household would be allowed to slack off.

Edmond went over his list, several times, and added a few things to touch on with Simon before he finally took his leave tomorrow. Well, today actually. Dawn was probably no more than a few hours away by this point. His body began to relax and he rolled over onto his side, head on folded arm. The deep quiet of the house settled over him as his mind finally surrendered and sleep overcame him.

The wind was picking up. More rain was on its way. The shutters were standing open as he came into the room. Regan was stretched across the bed, one arm hanging over the side, an overturned cup on the floor beneath her hand. Edmond closed the shutters and secured them, than crossed to her. Sitting beside her limp form, he ran his hand over his face. He sat for a while, hands loosely hanging between his knees, staring at the floor. Finally, he looked at her. For the first time, he noticed the dark drops falling from her fingertips. There was a small pool on the floor. Edmond had thought it was wine. He reached for the cup. It was empty. He turned again to Regan. She was standing at the open window, naked, her back to him. She turned and leaned back against the sill, striking a languid pose. She spread her legs apart, her hand slipping down her belly. Edmond rose, walked towards her. He reached for her, to grab her arms. She smiled, tilted backwards, and was gone.

Edmond came awake with a jerk, sitting bolt upright in his bed. The sky was the charcoal shade of pre-dawn. No stars shone through the window. As quickly as he could, he rose, pulled on his clothes and made his way downstairs.