The old château which loomed over the nearby village of Arvon, was built in the time of Augustin I d'Arvois, and was a mighty building worthy of the mightiest of kings. The fact that it was at that time considered merely respectable, even humble compared to many of its peers was a testament to the growing ingenuity of a great many master-builders and barons. But among those lords of Arvois it sat sagaciously as though a plump old Queen, surrounded by pretenders.
Near it to the south lay the old forest, from whence came Seonag, her brother and Léon, with that very place being where Pierre spent much of his time hunting. It was a place that in childhood, had filled him with dread after the murders of Vifombre, but as a grown man he had sought to hunt there as often as one possibly could. The reason for this, had much to do with his desire to conquer himself, to squash childish dread and to prove to himself he was a man. A man worthy of his beloved father, a man he revered as much as other men revered Paragons, the thirteen Paladins of the realm and also the gods.
He liked to pass by there in particular, just before a joust was set to begin. It was refreshing to be in the forest, surrounded by wilderness, by the sounds of nature. It was this that reminded Pierre, he was alive, he was but one among many and what it was that his ancestors had fought so desperately for.
"Our forefathers fought for glory, honour and also to unite Arvois that she might cease suffering the depredations of wayward barons my son," Augustin II, Pierre's father had always told him when he was a child. It was the same lesson he had sought to pass on to his own sons', and had treasured those words and had even had them engraved into the effigy of his father in the family necropolis.
But now his sons' had carried on that legacy to other lands. To other foreign places, and had made him proud with their acts of bravery, their noble service to King Clovis I, and he loved them for it. Even as he felt bitter at how they had forgotten him their father, in his old age and their sisters who were vulnerable without a protector, in his twilight years.
It was for this reason that he could not quite bring himself to step out, on his morning hunt and inspection of the local forest as he had done for every tourney he had hosted, for the past thirty years. He could not very well leave his daughters alone, while there were strangers under his roof, who knew what depravities they might perform against them?
You see dear Reader? This was the reason why, though his guests did not know it why he was in such a foul mood that morning, as he ordered preparations in the fields to the north of his keep, by the mountains near the fort. It was there that he put all his efforts, all his resources into, for 'twas thereupon the vast plains just beyond yonder village limits that the great jousting fields were to be found.
They were magnificent, more than ninety meters which was considerably larger than the average field put to such use, in most other lands. The reason for this was because in his youth, Augustin II d'Arvois had proven himself a jousting champion, one who had earned his spurs in the great contests held by Clovis II the Golden Duke. Yes, that legendary duke, who was grandfather to the present Clovis and his namesake, it was he who had held the finest tourneys of his day. He who had inspired the heroic Augustin II and he who had give the Comte d'Arvois of the previous generation, a small gold-lancelet as a trophy for winning the 'Roirne Tourney' as it was called. Held by the Roirne-River, it had been the biggest of its day and had seen Augustin II prove so valorous that men had spoken of his deeds for a full generation.
Never a man prone to vanity, he had returned home with the trophy, but more than that the determination that he must hold his own tourneys. So it was that he had cleared the fields, and that his son had carried on the practice, having been a champion in his own day also.
It was those well-maintained fields, enclosed by trees of the most natural sort to either side and a field full of small buildings and tents hastily put up just beyond them that was witness to more than one noble joust.
"Men from all throughout the north, travel hither to witness the greatest of deeds, the most heroic of all the noblest of men of fair Norençia," It was oft said throughout the north. Even the lord of those lands, a cousin of King Clovis, the Duke of Norençia, who was named Robert was prone to saying this. At one time he had sought to host his own tourneys, but had given up because all had agreed (even he had) that the tourney fields of Arvon were finer.
Racing all over, with servants and volunteers from the village, the lady Comtesse had taken on the task of arranging the seats, both those for the nobility and those of the commons. She had naturally also sent word to the two local monasteries nearby, those of Ziu the war-god to inform them to expect the arrival of guests soon.
This was not to say that Pierre was idle, he was busy negotiating for the local nuns of Meret, the goddess of music to be present for the jousts. He wished for there to be music, and their choir to preside over the affair, as he believed music and battle to be inextricably linked as all men of Gallia tended to believe. There could not be a proper tourney therefore, without music and singing and without the nuns (though they despised the sight of violence themselves).
"We really must have everything in readiness, before the suns' are at their zenith," she was wont to say as she took on the severe manner most associated with her beloved husband.
"Yes, mother," Augustine agreed at once, always by her sides at such times. It was her duty as the eldest daughter, and one who had long achieved her majority.
"Oh wait, can you bring food to our guests in the tower and in the stable? We should have your sisters, participate to-day in your place less they never learn their duties." Gisèle remarked cheerily, yet a hint of disapproval in her voice, at the lazy ways of her younger daughters.
Augustine ever the spirit of dutifulness was to bow her head, her golden mane catching the rays of the suns' so that all men who looked on her were filled with awe. Hers was the most lovely figure, and person in the locale of Arvon, long had many sworn her to be a new Venus, or a new Helen of Ilion. And she was thrice as gentle, as either of those ancient ladies, with a feminine geniality that made all who met her, become immediately taken with her.
Swift as a swan in flight, Augustine was to fetch first her sisters, to inform them of their mother's orders. Only the youngest, the eleven year old Jehanne was to cheer at the newfound responsibilities given over to her.
"At last!" She had said eager to cast aside the lyre that had been put in her hands, by her tutor Sister Morganne from the local convent of Meret. "No more music practice!"
"You dear sister will assist after one more hour of practice," Augustine decided thinking to torment her youngest (and favourite) sister, if only ever so slightly.
The pout and shriek of horror that resulted, along with the cackle of amusement after the initial irritation at the command, on the part of Morganne was all the reward she could have asked for. Ophélie, the greatest of the culprits in the dereliction of duties, was to groan yet offered little in the way of resistance. A romantic girl who thirsted for heroism and romance, she was not unlike her elder sister in this regard, however where the two differed was that she preferred to wait. Augustine though, proud and staunch in her passion for filial piety refused to simply do nothing while she waited, preferring to attend to her parents' needs until her own champion appeared.
It was for this reason that after she had chased away her sisters from the castle-interior, she turned her attention next towards the servants working in the kitchens. Well-accustomed to supervising their every action, with hawkish sternness inherited from her father as much as her mother, she was to refrain on this day with difficulty from joining in the baking herself.
This was no easy accomplishment on her part, for she was fond of moulding bread, of turning it about and of cooking it with her own two hands. In this she was as Gallian as any woman, and even most men.
The reason for her reticence towards dirtying her own hands, had more to do with her desire to appear pristine and dignified. This in mind, she could not risk a single blemish on her fine crimson dress made from fine wool, and sewn together by her own careful, long-fingers. Bonnet on her head and flaxen hair piled atop her head, she was the image of a princess rather than a countryside lord's daughter.
"Greetings milady," All greeted her respectfully, none questioned her preference to not engage in their chores herself, though they did pass gossip later when she had departed. There were suspicions as to the cause, and more than one chambermaid or scullery maid was audacious enough, to make fun of her and how she had evidently put in rather more effort than she might otherwise have done.
"Do be certain to add a little more honey in that bowl, also do not forget the venison that was left to cook overnight by Charles." Augustine took to reminding them, having seen to some measure of preparations before she had gone off to bed.
There were a many 'yes, milady,' and she departed with a number of servants hand-picked by herself, all of them responsible, pretty young women. Leading this troupe across the castle courtyard, she carried in her own hands a platter with bread, wine and a large piece of cheese. Dressed in crimson, she seemed immune to the cold breeze that blew through the land, and seemed to glide across the well-trimmed grass rather than walk.
Stepping out from within the stable they had slept in, the siblings could only stare as this troupe made its way past them. Both though stared in amazement, yet both had very different reactions with the lady Seonag feeling small in comparison and hurrying to remove some of the straw from her dress and hair.
Self-conscious, she felt ashamed of her wild hair, the impoverished state of her dress which was made of rough Cymran wool, rather than the rich sort favoured by the nobility of Gallia. Her brother in turn was to be struck by a strange sort of awe, the first he had felt in quite some time for any lady, since he had first taken to the road with Marculf and Seonag almost five years hence. He did not say anything, for fear of appearing a fool, yet he was swift to compare her to his sister and find the latter wanting in comparison.
The knights who had stayed within the tower, oblivious to the other guests and to the multitude of activity taking place had taken to their morning prayers. Mathieu had awoken first amongst them, to devote himself to morning prayers. This he had done, at once before and after he had bathed having done so in a large bath that had been put in the tower some time ago, when last there were visitors. The heir of Havion had once he finished with cleansing himself, had taken to cleansing his soul as was felt by him to be right and proper.
It was in this state, as he offered thanks to Ziu and Marianne the war-god and the chief goddess of the realm respectively, for having kept him hale through the night. Raised on such piety since childhood, he was to end his prayers with the lily gesture.
Surprised when he was told of the lady Augustine's arrival, Mathieu was to descend at once with one man before and another behind him, both other men rather more eager than he. Curious one and all, they were to discover at the foot of the tower the 'Fair Lady d'Arvon', as they were all to dub her.
Though, modest and having chosen maidens who might outshine her, for Augustine did not begrudge others their beauty but rather admired it in her own way, none outshone her at that moment. Hers was a vibrancy and warmth that could well have melted, even the most cold hearted of demons.
Hardly made of ice, despite proving himself of a stony nature, Mathieu was to stare at her with no less surprise than all of his men. Many of whom might have fallen to their knees in thanks of what they believed to be Turan, the goddess of love and beauty made flesh.
"Good sirs, I have come with these servants to present to thee, they morning meal and hope you find it to thy tastes," She said with earnest eagerness.
"We shall accept it," Mathieu replied quietly, his voice hoarse ere he swallowed silently and said in a louder, more confident voice. "Though, I am certain we shall enjoy it a great deal, we shall withdraw into the tower to enjoy it."
"I had thought you might prefer to eat it, in my father's dining hall or herein the courtyard," Augustine answered some small amount of hope in her voice.
This drew joy principally from the other men, rather than Mathieu all of them, cheering and one of them, turning to their lord, "What a splendid idea!"
"Yes, what do you say young lord?" Another man exclaimed eagerly, with open excitement.
Displeased by their excitement, even as Augustine was overjoyed by it, Mathieu spoke sternly to them, and to her. "I do not think it would be proper, as your father hardly trusts us and has set down what rulings and limits he might like for our comportment. To sit at his table without his permission, would be to flout this and to show ourselves not only discourteous but of lowly character. Really milady, it is a foolish thing of you to even propose such a thing and speaks poorly of thy piety towards him."
The reprimand was one that none of the men agreed with. All of them felt discomfited and unhappy, with Mathieu too aloof to meet their gazes or to answer the few protests laid before him. The servants for their part glared and muttered among themselves, angered by his snubbing of their much beloved lady.
Augustine had for her part never been so ill-treated and so was visibly hurt. Those who looked on her did not feel some sense of pity for her, so that there was a distinct dislike towards Havion that was inspired in them, due to his harsh words. Even his own men, looked on with a sense of unease as their lord did to the lady a great disservice, or so they believed.
"Milord, if I may," Said one older knight, "Do you not think it wrong, to treat a lady so? She merely offered us the utmost courtesy."
"Courtesy that is not hers to offer," the younger knight snapped icily.
Augustine wounded and scorned, turned away silently and might well have fled the scene with her ladies in tow, were it not for Ruaidhrí bursting with outrage. Peevish as of late, even at the best of times he took ill to the mistreatment of the lady who had, along with her mother shown Seonag and him so much courtesy. "Are you a child, or man? Where I come from, we do not address ladies in so discourteous a manner! You ought to thank the good lady, for her kindly treatment of you and thy men."
"Ruaidhrí!" Seonag hissed at him as she hurried over to his side, only to glance about her sheepish and frightened to see so many armed men glance in their direction. "Forgive him, he is but a child."
"One you would do well to teach to mind his tongue," Mathieu reprimanded as frosty as the snows atop the Highland peaks.
Seonag became scarlet as her mane, which burnt brighter than the darker curls of her younger brother, who was no less crimson. It was difficult to say which one was more insulted, by the impatient tone of the warrior from the midlands of the north of Gallia.
Augustine never rude and always keen to show herself to be as gracious a lady, as her mother was to rally herself, saying disapprovingly to the knight. "They are also my father's guests, and you would do well to remember Mathieu d'Havion that they are to be treated as is proper, all guests ought."
Quite how might the ill-tempered, heir of Havion might react none could predict, and yet he took this scolding in stride. His refusal to do aught more than nod his head, was a surprise to all around him, and a relief.
To the anger of his men though, Augustine followed her reprimand of the warrior with an invitation extended to the peasants. It was the same that she had previously extended to the knights, so that they felt indignant that it should be given over to the siblings. They grumbled and complained among themselves, even as the maids who had accompanied their lady, returned to the kitchens pleased. Satisfied with their lady, they spoke of her as men might of a victorious general who had just gone to battle and returned after trouncing his enemies.
As to Seonag and her impetuous brother, they were encouraged to enjoy a bath, the former in the bed-chambers in the lady's own chambers while the latter revelled in that which her brother Richard had once enjoyed. The tunic he had worn though it repelled those ladies who looked on it, none would forego and toss it.
Where Ruaidhrí held tight to the clothe of his past, his sister had no such attachments then, rejoicing as she and so many other maidens near to her age might, in new things. The past had no meaning to her, if it meant that she was denied joy to-day, such is the way of the most flighty of this world. So it has always been and so shall it always be.
This and the vision of the great mountains were the visions that Augustin and Salomon were to see when at last they crossed the forest. The Highlands of Arvois were famous, almost as much so as the great tourneys so beloved by her people. Those great hills were mayhap not the tallest of Gallia's peaks, but they were certainly famous for having defended from more than one raid, in the past. They had for centuries served to defend, the lands of the Comtes d'Arvois far better than any legion of Roma, or knights of Gallia could have. Typically against the vicissitudes inflicted upon the inland region, by the land-hungry and ruthless lords of Norençie. But since the time of Augustin de Norençie, the Black Duc who was far more conciliatory towards the region, peace had reigned and the mountains were little more than a pretty site to visit.
The dark shadow of Vifombre loomed over the land still, though he had long since met his doom. Though, the murderous knight seen the previous day was ever larger in the minds of the two men as they made their way through it, in the direction of those great mountains.
Both of them had preferred to halt in Augustin's village, so that they had stayed there, ere they had made for the château of the good Comte. Pleased at the majestic vision that lay before them, its shadow one that both men were keenly aware of and less than enthused towards, though they did not say anything regarding it.
They preferred to make their way through the village, and to the castle where they hoped to gain entrance just a little past lunch. It happened that Salomon, braggart that he was told Augustin rather firmly, "Allow me to speak to them, since you are less than able with thy words and less likely to be taken seriously by them."
"I agree, I do not think they would take well to the words or charmless ways of one such as I," Augustin readily agreed, visibly relieved to pass over leadership at that moment to the other man.
Older than Salomon by a number of years, he was however in matters of chivalry, of speaking with a King or a nobleman, quite the junior for he had never met one before. Though, in his heart he considered the lady Seonag to be of far nobler birth, than any lady born in Gallia, even the good Queen of the King Clovis.
It was in this manner that they made their way to the great castle gates, which were opened for the day, though the guards were on watch. Mistrustful of all new arrivals, they called the two men to halt their advance and questioned them at some length.
I will not bore you with all the questions, of which they posed to them, dear Reader as many of these were inane or already covered by this tale thus far. The most important were regarding the identity of the duo, with Salmon happy to boast of his position, "I am Salomon of Château-Aquévonie, and hail from the land of Breizh! I have travelled far, and wide in the hopes that I might visit the court of Pierre d'Arvon, for my friends spoke well of him. But along the way-"
"Yes, yes of course they did, and you wish to participate in the joust," One of the guards interrupted in exasperation for there was much more that Salomon had said. In truth, the man was bored by Salomon, and thought him rather pompous.
Huffing ever so slightly at this poor treatment, and wholly unprepared for the guards' rudeness, the knight was to glare at them furiously. "Yes, but you have no right to interrupt me, when I am in the middle of informing you of who I am and for what purpose I find myself before thee!"
"Yes, yes now there should be a place for you to stay in the village, if you do not mind as there is not space enough for all those participating in the joust." The look-out replied from up above them, his tone utterly indifferent as he waved the two of them to carry on, much to the outrage of Sir Salomon.
"How dare he? He has no right to treat us so indifferently," Salomon growled furious with the offending guard, who had been dozing off after a rather full lunch that day.
"Patience, milord," Augustin pleaded only to step around the man a-horse, to call out from before the gates. "If I may, my good sirs but the Sir Salomon and I come bearing news of Vifombre, and his return and sent on ahead of us Léon the Tigrun, Seonag and a youth by the name of Ruaidhrí."
This latter announcement caught the attention of the two guards, with one of them asking from on high, thereupon the top of the guard tower by the gates. "Wait, might you be Augustin the Wood-Cutter and the sir knight who went off to investigate the matter of Vifombre, of whom they spoke?"
"We are, sir guard!"
"And this Seonag, she was blonde of hair correct?" Here the guard laid out a trap for them, and it was one that the humble wood-cutter stepped around rather handily if by accident.
Confused the woodcutter was to exclaim before he could stop himself, "Blonde of hair? What are you talking about, my good sir? Seonag has a lovely red mane, one that glimmers in the suns' and their radiance as though it were a flame ablaze. No blonde mane could possibly compare with hers!"
At this the two guards guffawed, for by the time Seonag had appeared before them she had looked so ruffled, so dirty that it was difficult to see any hint of beauty. Let alone to distinguish in the dark, her red hair from the dark mud beneath her horse's hooves.
Though they had little in the way of desire to let the two men through the gates, the guards knew their duty and did as bidden. Chortling as they did, at the description utilised to describe the lady Seonag, for they had not thought much of her either the previous night or that morning when next they beheld her.
Moving past the open gates, Augustin and Salomon fell into a quick discussion of what might have happened. The woodcutter for his part was relieved that Seonag and her companions had arrived and was quick to say so.
Salomon still smarting from the shabby treatment, was wont to complain, "Why is it that they thought to remember thy name yet not my own?"
"Yes, that is strange," Augustin agreed wholeheartedly no less confused by that, "And I do hope that they have treated the lady Seonag well."
Salomon nodded, though his chin was almost pressed against his chest when he did so. No less worried for her, he was consumed by worry due in no small part that to his mind, if these northerners were liable to treat him so badly, how might they treat her? It was a question that might well have plagued any man, even one not smitten with the beautiful maiden of Norwend.
Guided across the courtyard, they were to find that the vast majority of the knights present therein the courtyard, to be in the midst of racing about. As there were never enough servants, for the yearly tournaments it happened that knights and household guards were called upon to aid in the dispensation of a variety of chores. The knights, warriors and squires in question were in the midst of arranging for a variety of stables be prepared, as there were a great many lords and knights expected to arrive within the next fortnight.
Some such as the Comte de Lunard's youngest son, Thierry had already arrived, and was to be put up at the castle, even as some of his guards were to be stationed in one of the nearby inns. Make-shift stables were being built near the tourney grounds, not only for him but also for the Comte d'Andruan's heir. A bright young man, who had come north across great distances, he was a cousin of the royal family and since seventeen years hence, when he had first participated in one of the tourneys there, he had never missed a single tourney. An old friend of the Comte d'Arvois, he was also still in contact if by letter with two of Pierre's sons, namely his eldest Richard and his second eldest Alexandre.
Enormously important, this heir of the Comte d'Andruan from the distant lands of Lyonesse, was a man of some honour. He was respected throughout the realm, as a figure knowledgeable in the ways of chivalry and also for his high standing at the King's court.
It was the recent early arrival of these two great men, who had journeyed together that, had much of the house of Pierre scrambling about in a panic. Moving between the east-gates and the northern ones, they had given little thought to the guards lazing about by the southern ones.
It was this vision of chaos and confusion that greeted, the two men as they stepped foot into the courtyard of Château-Arvon.
"It is the tourney that has everyone running about, in such a fit," One of the guards explained with a pained expression.
"Not to worry, we do understand," Augustin said at once.
"Though, they might accomplish more if there was a firmer hand present to guide them," Salomon replied rudely, much to the embarrassment of his travelling companion.
It was that the warrior, who acted as their guide, was no less full of disapproval, as he glanced back over his shoulder at him in this manner. Thankfully, they did not have to wait long for an explanation to the reason for the chaos.
Pierre had been an active force, just as his wife had been since the earliest hours of the day, with the two having had to pause in their efforts if briefly so for lunch. Lunch was as all who are familiar with the Gallian people, sacred to them and their favourite meal of the day. Great lovers of wine and food, especially baked bread and pastries this was true of the lowliest of men, and the highest in that old kingdom.
"Who are these men, you have brought before me, Simon?" Pierre asked of one of the two guards, as he tore his gaze from a story his daughter had been in the midst of telling him.
It was momentary, but neither Augustin, nor Salomon heard their escort answer the Comte. Both were as men struck by lightning, so stunned were they when they saw the pale figure, to one side of the lady Augustine. Well-dressed in a fine green silk dress, one that reflected the radiance and beauty that could only be found, in her eyes that shone bright as the sea. Her hair had also been done up, in the latest style in a lovely chignon and with a large bonnet atop this bun of hair.
Dressed finely, the figure that sat before them, by the side of the lady Augustine was much changed from the dirty, wearied girl they had met in the forest. The men were so entranced that, they hardly noticed at first that the Comte had addressed them.
The first to take notice though, of the youth by Seonag's side, was Augustin who bowed his head respectfully to her, even as he glanced at the other figure, Seonag's brother. To one side sitting before one of the tables for the knights, honoured if slightly less was Léon, was contentedly chewing on some meat. Put to work early in the morn', as he was familiar to Pierre he had happily accepted the task of helping lay out some of the wooden seats on the tourney-grounds.
Paying rapt homage with his gaze, and thoughts Salomon could be excused, and might well have been by a more forgiving sort than Pierre. However, the lord was never a man to appreciate his guests ignoring him, especially since he had been rather charmed by the lady Seonag. She was abrupt and brusque true, but since she had changed into the garments of a lady, and been re-introduced to him by his beloved eldest daughter, he had become quite fond of her. Fond in the same manner, an uncle might feel for a niece of his.
"Have you lost your tongue? Speak man, less I have thee thrown from the castle walls and down into the moat!" Pierre growled in exasperation at the Breizh-man, his arms thrown up in the air to the amusement of his wife.
"Now, now dearest you were once entranced by myself, in like manner!"
"Yes, but only once." These words earned him a frosty look, one that made him quake where he sat as he wondered as to the cause behind her anger.
"I am come hither, before you to first propose my name for thy tourney," Salomon announced only to add, "Or so I thought, but along the road I met the lady Seonag as well as Augustin here. He was beset by brigands-"
"There are no brigands in my land, not since my father's day!" Pierre snapped irritably, "I venture out throughout my lands, with all my lords and knights in attendance to ensure it remains so, every three months!"
Continuing on as though he had not been interrupted, Salomon said with unerring steel, "The bandits that struck, slew his friend and disappeared swift as shadows. According to humble Augustin here, it was none other than the dread-knight by the name of Vifombre himself!"
The proclamation was one that drew several gasps, notably from the daughters of Pierre, along with their mother. The youngest of the Arvois daughters, came near to fainting as one knight's lady did to one side. This lady was one of the older maids of the castle, who remembered far too well, from painful, personal experience the brutality of the last series of killings wrought by the dark knight of Vifombre.
Pierre no less affected, took on a darker mien, one full of anger as his face initially darkened until it was black as a shadow ere it became scarlet as the suns' themselves. "How dare you, speak of such things before all of my house, and my daughters!"
"I bring to you the truth, with the goddess Marianne, and the noble god Orcus as my witnesses and swear on the sword of Ziu that all that I have uttered is truth." Salomon countered at once, defiant and calm in the face of the Comte's outburst.
"I say it is false, unless of course your friend speaks now," Gilbert interrupted; sober once more and eager to mediate between his good friend the Comte and these guests. Seated to one side of the table, because of how he had been ill all throughout the day, due in no small part to having over-indulged in drink.
It was at this moment that all eyes fell upon Augustin, who unaccustomed to such an experience glanced about all around him. Pity might have steered other hearts, but not those of the Comte and his bride, who looked on him expectantly.
Hardly able to summon his voice, the woodcutter was to stare all around him, wherefore he lowered his gaze.
This inability on the part of the peasant to speak up, to defend his honour, or that of the knight he had come to admire so, led to the two men being cast out from within Château-Arvon. Banished from within its walls, which caused immense shame of Salomon who had journeyed from distant Breizh in the south-west, in the hopes to prove himself therein Arvois.
The two were dismissed, in spite of the protests loudly uttered by Seonag and Ruaidhrí, who had their own claims of the terrible shadow-knight of Vifombre rejected also.
"I will not hear any further of this nonsense," Pierre had declared vociferously, "All it has done is frighten my daughter."
It was as they departed that Salomon reprimanded his friend, complaining to him, "Why did you not speak? You ought to have defended thy honour, Augustin!"
"It is only that I have never stood before, one so important as the Comte or his kinswomen," Augustin replied at once, his head bowed in shame. "I do not know what came over me, only that I could neither speak nor bring to mind, any of the words that I had sworn I would say, and we had practiced together you and I."
"Yet you have never in the days we have known one another, struggled for words in spite of the slightest hint of a stutter."
"It is only that you are far more friendly, and genial to me," Augustin confessed at which time he swallowed back a dozen tears or so, and muttered, "Apologies noble Salomon! Forgive me my foolish timidity, which turned me from man to woman in our hour of need, forgive me! I swear to thee, I shall atone for this and shall ensure that you will have no further need to regret our friendship!"
There was a distant snort from another part of the courtyard, one which was so loud, so rude and obnoxious was it that it at once captured the attention of the knight.
This dear Reader, was to prove itself the first meeting of Mathieu and Salomon. Theirs was to be a mutual disdain, and distaste for one another from the very first moment they set eyes on one another.
Not a word was uttered between them, save those which Mathieu uttered against Augustin who shrunk back from him. Of the two men, the woodcutter was the taller, but such was the pride and dignity of the northerly knight that he made the peasant shrink back ever so slightly.
"To have uttered such nonsense, merits far worse than scorn," another of the knights' by the side of Mathieu grumbled with a stern glance in the direction of the woodcutter.
Full of shame, the red-faced knight departed with nary a glance in their direction, or that of his travelling companion, in favour of the city that encircled the castle. It happened that Salomon was to devote himself for the remainder of the day, to his preparations for the joust.
Thinking to put the matter of the mystery of Vifombre behind him, he succeeded in casting it from his mind. This was done as much out of anger towards Augustin, who remained ashamed of his inability to speak up, and was to devote himself to the duties normally assigned to a squire. Resolved to purify his good name, from the smear placed on it, and to earn the forgiveness of his friend he was to devote himself to.
There were others who arrived in the days that followed. A number of the northern nobility, some from the former lands of Folkmaringie, just east of the great king-city of Gallia, Armand. There was even rumours that one of the sons' of King Clovis might well arrive to participate in the joust. How such a rumour came to be, was unknown to Pierre who eagerly wrote to the King and his cousins, to inform them that they should be more than welcome, in his home.
Doubtless the monarch of all Gallians, was pleased at this message for it was well known he was a great lover of tourneys himself, and held Pierre in high regard. The difficulty was that the equally aged ruler, rarely if ever left the heartland of his own territories, in recent years.
If Pierre was pleased to see so many nobles and knights from all throughout the land arrive, and his wife and daughters flush with pride, there were few who were more pleased than Seonag. She had never seen a joust before, and had never before borne witness to so great an assembly of knights.
"This is not unlike a dream, Ruaidhrí what say you?" She was to ask late one day, almost a week since Salomon had been ejected from the castle.
"I think you have shown yourself of fickle character, and that this whole matter of the joust is nonsense, we should have already begun a search of the forest for Marculf." Ruaidhrí complained, frustrated and irritated by his sister's enthusiasm for the fine clothing, and small gifts given to her.
"I understand you think that, but it is very unlikely the Comte will send out his men to aid in such a venture before the tourney." She argued, adding for good measure, "And it is not as though he will let us out of his sight, until he has proof."
"Which we must find, by slipping away and returning," Ruaidhrí snapped at her, growing angrier as they toured one of the towers of Château-Arvon.
"Ruaidhrí, to do so would be incredibly dangerous, and could put our lives needlessly at risk," Seonag retorted horrified by his sudden outburst of impulsiveness. "You heard Augustin, the knight of Vifombre burst from nowhere with a small army of Goblins and brigands to slaughter his friend."
"Aye, and that is why we must discover the truth before the tourney," Ruaidhrí replied, adding when he saw her open her mouth to argue once more. "And it is precisely Augustin and Salomon that we must request aid from, in this manner."
"But would this not trouble Salomon, just before the tourney? It could cost him the joust, if we distract him the night before it is expected to begin." Seonag complained, even as her heart halted completely and constricted terribly at the notion that she might bring sorrow or trouble down upon the noble knight of Breizh.
"It may well be, but he has already troubled himself in the past for our cause," Ruaidhrí countered her, with the same steely resolve he had shown before.
It was he who had pushed to cross the Channel, in the hopes of searching for their Ogre friend Marculf, in order to bring him home. It was his view that they must carry on the search, fine clothes or no, and regardless if it displeased the ill-tempered Pierre.
Seonag, always more cautious than him, to the extent that she could at times prove utterly passive, was reluctant as she could not also think of a single lead to Marculf. It was her view that there was no proof that, he was near there or that Vifombre had had anything to do with the disappearance, of the magi.
The two were in staunch disagreement with one another, and it exasperated both of them. Not that Seonag would allow herself to speak more furiously on the topic, not after the recent sorrows that had overtaken her brother.
"Ruaidhrí, I only wish to avoid trouble while we wait for a new lead, to guide us along the way," Seonag sought to explain, "Sir Salomon also looked troubled, by the Comte's rejection of him. I feel we should be more careful, lest we bring down upon ourselves the displeasure of our host."
"And what of the displeasures likely being heaped upon Marculf?" Ruaidhrí snapped at her, "While you frolic about, in the finest silk one can imagine?"
Seonag sighed impatiently; her patience little as it was then was near to its limit. A series of curses of the most obscene variety escaped her full-lips thence, as her brother met her gaze frostily. No stranger to the fouler side of their language, nor to his own sister's habit of imitating the sailors and knights they had once lived near to in their childhood, when they were little more than a castle chambermaid and servant.
It was later as she was called away to enjoy some wine, and called upon to assist with the organising of the Château's meal and bedchambers for the oncoming guests, expected to begin swarming in a matter of hours and days. Her years of experience of service, were a source of immense aid then, as she for the first time in her life took command of a household of servants. It was a role she had once believed herself born to perform, and took to with considerable relish.
Her hostesses, notably Gisèle and Augustine were pleased by her strict discipline, yet kindly fairness towards all of their servants. If they noticed the missing Ruaidhrí they did not comment upon it, thinking him, Seonag suspected busy with meaningless games.
It was what she hoped he was in the midst of distracting himself with, though she had her suspicions that this was not so.
Ruaidhrí she was later to discover had fled to the village, having slipped out the southern gates, the same ones that Augustin and Salomon had left through. The youth had made his way through it, in search of the mighty knight who had come as out of legend and had seemingly departed back into it.
It took him some time to discover where it was that the warrior had gone to. His Gallian was not quite so excellent as he had originally believed it to be, and yet so many treated him with either derision or amusement. Few there were who understood him and even fewer could understand him quite so easily, the more anxious and angry he became.
Most treated him as though he were foolish, for to them he seemed little more than a strange, foreign child one who muttered constantly of 'Salomon'. Though, it was not the most common of names in the far northern lands of Norençie, it was not wholly unknown to them. It was because of this, the lad was redirected to a butcher from Breizh four times, and to a stable-hand whose mother stemmed from those lands and who had passed down the name to her son.
Frustrated by this confusion that occurred between them, he was to almost give up and return to the château, when he stopped to ask a fruit-seller. "Have you seen a knight, who spoke with a Breizhian accent, and who was accompanied by a large, dark haired man with a clumsy gait?"
This sentence was not all correct, and had flaws to it. But in his broken Gallian, it was a better choice of words than 'have you seen the man known as Salomon?' that he had uttered countless times hitherto then.
The fruit-merchant stared at him for a few minutes, puzzling out what he said, pushing past the accent, the clumsy dialect wherefore he smiled and nodded. Pointing to a nearby inn, he informed the ill-tempered youth, "They are staying over there, at the 'Clumsy Dragon'."
"Thank you," Ruaidhrí muttered at once, sincerely grateful and hopeful that this would not prove to be as embarrassing as his previous misdirected efforts to find Salomon.
"Ah one other thing, my boy," the merchant called out.
"What?"
"Have an apple, you look famished," The merchant said cheerfully as he tossed him the finest, reddest apple from one of the baskets on his stall just outside his home.
Ruaidhrí caught it, and blinked up at the bearded figure in surprise. Unused in recent days to such kindness, he could not at first understand why the man had tossed him the apple. His stomach growled, and as he devoured it he felt his ill-mood lighten a little.
Grateful to the merchant, he was to mark it in his memory to thank the man, mayhaps when he found Marculf he might convince him to pay the man a visit to properly recompense him for the apple. Thinking about the Ogre, and how it had been some weeks since he had last seen him, made Ruaidhrí regret his hot words when last he had seen him. He missed his friend, the mage had proven to be the closest thing he had to a brother or father, since his father had died when he was but three.
Casting aside such dark thoughts, he was to push on towards the inn, eager to at last find his friend, he knew Salomon would help him, as would Augustin.
"What do you mean, you refuse to aid me?" Ruaidhrí demanded of Salomon, as he paced the length and breadth of the small room that the knight had rented, at the Clumsy Dragon.
"Gallian lad, Gallian I cannot understand your northern tongue," Salomon grumbled in exasperation.
Ruaidhrí was to repeat himself, in Gallian stumbling as he did so, with Augustin saying when he had finished speaking, "Sir Salomon, all could well understand reluctance on thy part, however in this matter Vifombre continues to menace the locality."
"Yes, but none wish to believe so," Salomon replied at once, "And to investigate might well cost us dearer than any attack, we who are near to the lady Seonag and suspected by Lord Arvois."
"But what of those who will be slain, when next Vifombre strikes?" Ruaidhrí demanded of him, stunned by his words. "You are a knight, you swore to aid Augustin in the hunt for the wicked false knight Vifombre, will you simply forsake that oath in pursuit of petty games?"
Salomon was silent.
Hot words came to Ruaidhrí's lips at that moment, and he might well have spilled them such was the fury that overtook him. He was saved from uttering them, when Augustin intervened if shyly so, "If I may say so, Sir Salomon you did swear that oath. However, you are right that so long as Pierre refuses to investigate the matter, and suspects thee there is little that you might accomplish."
"There is much that he might accomplish," Ruaidhrí grumbled at once.
"But I say to you, as I said when first you arrived hither, Rudrée, I shan't help you," Salomon told him wearily, "It happens that I will need to participate in the joust tomorrow."
"Ruaidhrí," He corrected at once, irritated by their inability to properly pronounce his name.
Both men looked to one another, ere they struggled to pronounce it, the most he was able to wrench from them was; 'Ruadrée'. Resigned to the fact that they would never properly spell his name, he was to insist once more on the importance of his own quest.
At the end of several more minutes of bickering, he decided firmly, "If that is to be how you feel; the tourney coming before thy duties, Salomon I shall inspect the mountains myself! I will tour every inch of them, until I have found Vifombre and where he hid so many of his fellow brigands, and have found Marculf!"
"You will likely search forever," Salomon snapped at him, adding for good measure, "Ruadrée wait I say. Vifombre is in the forest, but as I am forbidden from hunting I can no more go in search of him than Seonag. I will join in the joust, win the favour of the Comte and shall be certain to bring this matter once more to his attention!"
"A wondrous stratagem, noble Salomon!" Augustin cheered at once, to the preening gratitude of his friend.
"It is a terrible one, what use is patience and diligence without action?" Ruaidhrí snapped once more.
"And what use is action without thought? A knight ought to pursue justice, and right action it is true, however if he does so simply to satisfy his own ego, and without consideration for how it might affect the lives of others, he is no knight. He is little more than a vagabond who pretends at justice, and a vagabond of that sort should be shunned and disregarded by all." Salomon decreed with utter conviction and such finality that Ruaidhrí could no more argue against him, from then on, than he could command the seas.
It was with a great deal of disappointment that the youth left departed from the inn, displeased and bitter about the refusal by his friend to aid him. He could not fully bring himself to understand the logic of the man, even as a part of him suspected that Marculf might have said something similar.
It was sound advice he knew, but deep down he could no more reconcile himself to it, than he could reconcile himself to being pleasanter towards those around him in recent days.
If Salomon and Seonag would not aid him, it fell upon him to investigate this bandit-knight Vifombre, Ruaidhrí decided. The only question, he said to himself that remained, was to determine where he ought to begin his investigation?
"Wait, young Ruadrée!" Augustin called suddenly from behind him, the great big giant throwing one leg before the other caught up to him with all the desperation of a drowning man, clinging to driftwood. "Wait, I tell you, do please wait!"
"It is Ruaidhrí," The youth corrected him impatiently.
"It is what I said," Augustin replied confused, struggling with the pronunciation and particularities of the Caled tongue spoken in Norwend.
Ruaidhrí swallowed the hot words that came to his tongue, he was a proud youth and one who had a greater affinity for the Gallian language than even his sister. What he did not know, was that in his learning the musical language of Gallia, he had taken into himself some of their attitudes towards language. He had adopted their obsession for pronunciation and spelling, so that grammar meant ever more to him, with the passage of time.
He may not have known it, but it was why with his visible effort to pronounce every word carefully and natural gift for the language, why the Norençians had taken to him. Why they also showed themselves to be so patient, despite his openly churlish nature.
"What is it Augustin?" Ruaidhrí asked of him guardedly, for he had no wish to have his hopes dashed once more.
"I wish to accompany you, on this most meritorious quest of yours, and though I be of cowardly character, I would not have it said that I hid while a child risked life and limb." Augustin answered him, with his usual timidity.
Though, he was hitherto then unimpressed by the woodcutter, it was now that Ruaidhrí looked at him for the first time in a new light. There was more to the soft, and gentle woodsman than timidity, there was genuine steel beneath the wool, he realised with a start.
Nodding his head, he agreed before he was asked, "Good, now where did you have in mind to search for these brigands?"
This was the query that he had dreaded, truth be told simply searching the mountains wildly struck even him as pure madness. Ruaidhrí thought about it for some time, ere he turned to study the distant hills past the jousting fields. "I have heard tell of a monastery in the mountains, one devoted to the goddess Marianne."
"Yes, it is a small one though with high-walls, few there are they simply let wander in since the events from forty years hence, or so I am told. They are favoured by the Comte, and their abbot is always in attendance for his yearly tourneys," Augustin informed him, "I have never had the privilege of meeting him though. He is quite a reclusive man, and so are the rest of the monks he lives with."
"If he came into contact forty years prior, and has greater knowledge of the locality, than any other after the Comte and some of the locals, it is to his abbey that we shall go now." Ruaidhrí proclaimed resolved once more, to solve this mystery, and find his missing friend Marculf. "Surely, he must have heard something of Marculf, if Marculf truly did travel through yon mountains."