Holding Audience

[Queen Beathag Aberdeen]

Continued from Helping Hand



Beathag: "The sun is low 'nough now, ye may tell the pages, Brom, m'audience time is drawin' tae its close." The North man gave a mute nod as his reply, releasing his breath only after his back was facing the High Lady as he muttered an inaudible, "Thank God." Petitions were not idle in a time of flux. Men sought more than questions on neighbor's fences but more on what lay across the other side. Advantage? Why, be it in the arrangement of sudden matches, the ending of those that weren't with a family in sudden dishonor, or the heat fanned from fire tongue speech that exploded in the little stone room, more than Spring had come to bloom on Skye. Clans were making ready for war. Lines were being drawn in the ground again by bold, enobled idiots as the woman who would be Queen cautioned them of the consequences. Such things decided fortunes, with the victor claiming spoils. Those that crossed wrong the royals with their squabble would find the battle field decided for them. It was less than what was desired. Brom's ears burned with the talk, too, of the foreigners who had come to pledge themeselves steadfast or caution consequence as the continent became alive with hot debate over the heads that would wear Scotland's crown. How could one small chain of islands hold so much sway over the entirity of the known world? She had the stained glass windows opened, for she loved the way light played on them, but loved the light more. Fresh air brushed against the long, gold pride as she watched another day move closer towards eternity. With her hands to her desk, her back would be towards the door as she thought on what awaited her beyond this room with its high backed chairs in circle arranged to make people more 'welcome' to speak. The true welcome awaited with her family, her children. (d)

Brennah: With having finished the meal now finished, she would look across to Ranald. `` We best be on our way if we want to make sure we get there in time to catch either the Duke or the Duchess so that you might can deliver this message of yours.`` She finished off what little bit she could of both drink and food and scooted her chair back as a hand lifted the napkin to wipe at full lips. Brennah would continue to keep her seat until she knew for certain Ranald wasdone and soon rising himself. ``I do hope that we can get there in time and if they won't see you on account of your name, perhaps they will upon mine.`` she offered. It was perhaps a little more insight for Ranald with that commentas he had yet to learn of just who the dark haired Lady was that now sat across from him. Yes, he had learned of her name, but only her name and nothing more. He was sure to have his assumptions about her just like any other would when it came to just meeting someone. Was she deliberately keeping things from Ranald? It was possible, but then if she were, one might wonder for what reasons. Was it because of his comment of knowing how most women of nobility and of royal courts were... or was it because she simply wished to be accepted for who she was rather than by name or affiliation alone? He in time would find out like so many others before him had. [end]

Ranald: Ranald had enjoyed his meals and the company of Brennha even more. He almost regretted that it would be necessary to go to the castle, but he considered that it was his duty to his homeland, and duty must always come first. "Come,let us get over there. I'm sure the High Lady must be overrun with with petitions, complaints and the like. It's what usually happens at these audiences or court." He pauses almost dramatically. "I only hope they will listen. As a soldier I've seen good counsel ignored many times, and every time it happens people die unnecessrily. And if it happens this time, the results will be horrendous." He took her hand and assisted Brennah to rise from the table.Then he most properly escorted her out of the Inn. Earlier they had left the Briar Rose and come into the city. The castle was quite thronged with people for the audience. That was when they had decided to wait a bit. They even partook of a light lunch at an establishment near the castle. They were close and it was such a short walk. By the now the crowd had dispersed, and they made their way to the small audience chamber where the High Lady was holding court. The way was not barred, but he found his way blocked by a tall fair haired, mailed warrior and a smaller blonde woman standing beside him. "Hold on Friend. The High Lady has finished her audiences for today." It was Marius de Brabant and his wife Janice. "Unless this a major emergency, you may return for the next public audience." (d)

Brom: "Debrabant keeps track of time well," Brom of the North emerged into the hall as the door with the desired presence, the wanted ear, was shut behind him. "She has just sent me forth herself to say the same. The day has been long and Her Grace wishes it to be finished. Unless it is dire, it will wait until the morrow. Sir Marius! Take you home the young wife, long her day is, with eyes between lines of foreign paper."

Janice: Janice lifted a hand that hid the sign of laughter but couldn't quell the sound. "Many languages, the same things I assure you said across many papers." Her eyes, the windows to an intelligent, gentle soul looked at the people who had come forward. The man she didn't know, but the woman in company seemed familiar at least by description of mention. She would cant her head, the smile unmoving as the hair straying down from her bun refused to stay out of her eyes. By jove, she was wed now! If all else in life might find order, why not her hair? (d)

Brennah: Brennah would of course rise when Ranald had helped her to her feet only to then go where it was he wished. When it was known that many wished to see the Duchess, Ranald had the grand idea of passing the time by seeing to otherthings about the city to keep from having to wait so long in hopes that by the time they returned, it would work in their favor. However, now they stood before what Brennah was sure to be just one of many obsticles. ``Please, Sir, it is of great importance that we speak to the High Lady this day... this hour even. If she will not see him on behalf of an urgent message alone, then have her know that the niece of Talion Apollous is here and with a friend. I am sure the High Lady would not turn away the relative of the Lady Artisan and her husband.`` Brennah said as she stepped forward to place herself between Ranald and both Marius as well as Brow along with Janice. While she spoke politely and with respect, there was indeed the tone of an underlying demand in her words. ``I as well as my friend here will camp out in this very spot if we must. I will remain planted here as if I were a solid oak tree rooted deep within the ground.`` She let her eyes shift for only a moment as she looked from one to the next, awaiting to be either tossed out on her rear or to be taken to the Duchess. [end]

Marius: Marius quietly crossed his arms. "You sir, convince me of the urgency of your request and I shall lead you to the High Lady myself, past any obstacle." Ranald quietly goes up to him and whispers in Marius's ear. Marius's eyes go wild with fear, as he hits his own forehead. "I knew it, I knew it," he shouts. "Come with me, but first we surrender our arms to Brom, all weapons" Marius is the first to undo his swordbelt and give bastard sword and dagger to the giant guard, while Ranald follows suit. Marius pushes past two of the other guards and literally forces his way into the chamber. He does not apologize. "High Lady, this man has brought some vital information. I know your audiences have ended, but this must be said."He motions for Ranald to tell his story

Ranald:.The dark haired warrior bows politely to Bess, not even fully comprehending who she is, but he needs to tell his story. "I am Ranald MacKenzie, Scots by birth but outside of my homeland. I have earned my livelihood as warrior. I was between contracts when I went to Avignon to seek Papal employment. For the first time in memory they aren't hiring. While I was there I overheard a conversation between two ranking churchmen. They spoke of the plans for my homeland. There was to be a Papal Bull, excommunication and interdict to be laid upon all lands of the Gaelic Alliance. And then they spoke of a possible crusade, if their other operation did not succeed. Dispensations were cheaper then salaries and crusaders had many uses." He paused dramatically, licked his lips and continued. "I was attacked by Papal assassins and wounded. This lady" he pointed to Brennah "most graciously tended my wound and aided my trip here. But I came to Skye in a smuggler's craft. It was the safest way under the circumstances. There were four or five other men also coming in on the same craft. They kept together and ignored me as I ignored them .From a few snatches of their conversation carried by the wind, only a couple of more groups were coming and the operation could proceed after it was published. I came directly here to you to report this. I fear my homeland is in great danger. As a Scotsman I could do no less." he bowed again politely. (d)

Bess: "Oak trees belong outside, Lady Teegan, though they are adored of the High Lady. We needn't use such symbolism. I will see what she says, twould nay be her way to turn aside those as close as kin..." The giant guard put his fingerto his chin in contemplation, a half laugh given at her determined stance. What of the man in her company? Before he could inquire a name, or a purpose as to why he would be attached to one of the women of the court by relation, he went off to Marius. He glowered with no means to hide it. Why should he? It was not the man he held contempt for, but his actions. He lifted up his hand so the guard she pressed past would not bar his way with steel points. "DeBrabant will get your friend run through if he isn't careful." He muttered to Brennah, jerking his head in the direction of the door so she would follow him. Within the chambers, the Lady was shutting folios and rolling up scrolls when a familiar Austrian accent turned her ears up to reveal a sharp, careful gaze. The woman was increasingly studious as the days went on, and extremely cautious. Letting the words be witness, she remained behind the desk, and thus behind a man but one inch shorter than herself. He was auburn headed, dark eyed, but not without some shared facial features enough to mark him for the blood relation he was, her brother, Caldean. Instead of the background, for once the man sought the foreground in the days when the golden head he loved was subject to much scrutiny. He crossed his arms, almost a silent question posed to Brom whom was his superior in these , yet the man still emerged. He knew of people, even if he wasn't known by them. He'd stood in court with Beathag a hundred times by now while none knew his name but those that need know it. "Tis Alright, move Caldean, come stand upon m'right." Ranald remained in his lowered posistion no doubt until she harkened, "Rise, McKenzie. 'Pon first accord, should welcome ye tae yer home land, n' tae Skye Isle, far part o' it. Ye made with personal peril n'duress tae speak as ye have. Rise. Be it known tha' while yer full trust is bein' appraised, yer words now are trusted. Ah've heard enough of m'own tae validate belief. " Eyes next turned to Marius "Ye keep dangerous company tae thyself, deBrabant. Another man tha' would have ye kidnapped or killed at yer side. Ye favor more excitement than Ah did at yer age, though it just seems tae bloom from the ground for ye. Tis nay smart tae push one forth sae, words nay withstanding. They are important, but it is better said by the likes o' ye first as introduction proper. Or tha' one.. Good evenin' Brennah. M'doors will open n' my ears are nay shut tae such plee nor word, but if Brom did nay lift his hand, they have command tae harm the disobdient on sight n' ask questions later. Comes with havin' a marked head. All come, tae the chairs, sit then. Lady deBrabant I will trouble yer hands again.." "Yes Lady, and you say they will kill if necessary," "Aye, the one near successful attempt 'pon m'life was an infiltration when we first arrived. Since yer husband pointed out those who sought tae dae the same, with wot was heard the last few days..there is just cause. " (d)

Brennah: With Brom's reply, there was both a sign of relief as well as amusement that showed in her expression. However, even before she could say anything else on the matter or in reply to Brom's own statement, the demand for weapons hadbeen made and there was of course a slight roll of her eyes. ``Oh alright, for heavens sake if it will help speed up the process.`` she said before bending a little and gathering up a portion of her skirts to remove the dagger from the inside of her boot to hand over to Brom. Only after the others had moved forward and through the doors did Brennah follow. A glance was given to Janice, and although Brennah didn't think they had been properly introduced, she seemed familiar. Once inside and before the High Lady, Brennah quickly stepped off to the side, but remained within close proximity of the gathering in a respectful distance. She let all others - Marius, Ranald, Brom and the man at the Duchess side say what need be said first. Only when a chance was given did she step forth and speak. ``I do hope you will pardon our abrupt entrance at such an hour your Grace, but as you can see for yourself it was of great importance that you receive this messagae as soon as possible.`` she said as she dipped down into a deep curtsey that was well perfected. . I should hope that perhaps upon another evening, we might can meet again under better circumstances.`` Once she was done, she simply straightened and stepped back to await to be addressed again by whom ever wished to be the next to have her speak or to remain silent and allow business to carry on as it should. [end]

Marius:As Ranald rose, Marius began to speak quietly but firmly. "High Lady, this information confirms what I had suspected about the Papacy's intentions. I fear we can expect a Bull of Excommunication and Interdict as soon as you and Adam have the crowns placed on your head. Don't expect the Bishop of Skye to officiate. He's a Papal servant first. That is not what is frightening; it's the other operation. We know for sure that large Papal parties are coming in through the smugglers and almost all of them are here. I believe it is an assasination attempt on the soon to be Royal Family. One or even two hundred men could already be here inisde Turas Lan awaiting the publication of the Bull. They will of course be roughly dressed; so it will appear that your own subjects rebelled and slew you all, including to the children. And he Papal hands will be remain clean. After that they can easily take apart the Gaelic Alliance, piece by piece." Now Marius pauses, because what he will say next could bring him trouble. "High Lady, there is only one way to stop this before it begins. Your husband must throw himself at the Pope's feet and abjectly beg his pardon for being in secret communication with an Infidel lord, for not surpressing the Templars, and for planning a coronation without a Papal blessing. It could work, and it is a fair chance. However, if he wishes not to avail himself of this counsel, then station a company or two in the palace at all times and make sure the nursery is protected. And "His Majesty" needs to cease going out along among the people, at least until we've drawn the fangs of this viper." He continues quietly. "I do apologize for bursting in. I am but your faithful subject and cannot compel you to any course of action. But I do implore you to listen; for the lives of your family,for Skye, for Scotland, for England, and even for Ireland." Marius simply bows his head at the end. From another quarter comes applause, and a man in the uniform of a servant comes into the room from a passageway hidden by a tapestry. Marius just looks up and rolls his eyes. "My pardon all, but I simply cannot do without a bit ofthe dramatic. I'm his cousin Nicholas" He gives a most correct court bow. "High Lady, the information from both my cousin this othe gentleman is quite correct. The Papal Bull is set to be signed as soon as you are coronated, and a special messenger to bring it to the Bishop of Skye, with instructions on what to do if he refuses to publicly proclaim it. And I am most afraid that my cousin's interpretation of the assasination attempt is quite real." (d)

Beathag: Beathag merely listened with such a bout of silence as for one to think she'd been infected by a disease that turned women into statues. Waves of news crashed against her, and she was expected to absorb it all and return some dignified response that would make it all right again? Royalty was alleged to make one's blood blue. It was a station assigned by Heaven so that the chosen could lead. Salic Law was man' slaw, dictating that a woman should have noplace in this procession through the ages but here it was. Beathag of Aberdeen defied all known convention to share authority with her husband, and in his absence designated supreme. Inhaling on the mention of the papacy, she exhaled with more flare as anger flickered across her eyes. Why was the man emerging from the passage meant for servants - and if her person - only elected ones? Was it a point to be made? Nicholas received none of her patience, but enough animosity to bolt him down by the weight of gaze alone. Words were heard for what they were, but actions spoke louder. She looked instead at Marius, with a more gentle disposistion. "Lord Aberdeen will nay be kissin neither the ring, nor shoe, nor gown hem, nor posterior o' His Holiness unless he arrives him himself. Tis he who designated this given we were, at his approval and the Bruce's left as heirs in the man's stead. I believe wot ye tell me, have enough reports this dae and in audiences as people act tae validate there is blood tossed out in the water. Yet I also believe the Pope has tae many damn strings and his strings are bein' pulled, and thus it is nay the man himself. M'court harbors Papal court members as well as relatives. Still, his strings n' puppets carry enough power tae move some of our allies closer tae us, n' some in the wrong direction. Tis a precarious time. On your word, the guard will be doubled within halls and contingent accompaniment outside o' them, but tae cease our lives now, we freeze, they have tae much advantage. Brom..gae n' tell, n' fergive me if ye are Christian cross yerself,Father Donovan, the Cathedral head, n' the Archbishop Meurig, tae search among their conclaves. They are nay safe either, n' if they have been infiltrated, robed or no..they must turn o' there brothers n' sisters tha' would harm. Brennah, ye n' yer friend remain her taenight, fer yer protection, as will ye Marius n' Janice, any further word ye all have on the matter may prove useful. They have also increased the askin' price on yer wifes head, Marius. In direct writin. Janice when Donovan arrives, have him baptize ye proper, n' seal yer marriage thus. Whomever is pullin tha' man's strings is nay only endangerin us..nay doubtif the Pope becomes dead within weeks twill nay surprise me. We will speak more on it later." Before she departed, she went over to Nicholas. "And you? Unless ye are m'faithful or one of my Talon brain soldiers?" In the most calm display of her lost temper, no voice was risen or yell given. She merely took her left, dual ringed hand and brought the back of it across his face. The woman was still no flower to be trod upon. "Stay the hell out o'the walls, rafters n' any such entry. Use the damned front door. Marius does nay need tae lose family nor gae intae trouble because of ye. The man seeks tae earn his place in a reputable manner, n' is already hangin' by a thread nay o' his own choosin. Ye Jackass. N' I hate theatrics. Front door." She canted her head to them, and flexing left fingers into a fist there after to rest in right hand whilst she thoughtshe took her leave. No, the pope nor assasins would keep that crown from sitting on her head. (d)

[King Adam Aberdeen I]

Adam too could be the son of dramatics, for from the halls of the rear passage, he stood listening... his blood began to boil, his teeth ground as the words came from the man’s mouth. Then just as he was about to speak... his beloved wife and advisor spoke... Again he listened intently and soon the frown of anger transformed into the smirk.

Exiting the rear chamber, he too applauded when Bess backhanded the man who marred his sanctuary... The resounding thud of gloved hands echoed in the halls... “Well said M’Luv... Ah shall bow down to no man... especially a red robed, ring toting arrogant fat man... one who says he is pitous, yet double deals with every breath... If God so spoke thru men, then men would be holier than any upon Earth... but we know there have been no burning bushes in a millennia or more...” Adam’s stride was slow and calculated... his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword... With accentuation, he moved the handle to and fro as he walked before the people who gathered in the Hall.

“Ah shall wear the crown as duly is mae birthright...” he looks to Bess... “Desire for, an’ possession of power never pleased mae o’rmuch, and Ah did naet unduly desire this rule, but nevertheless Ah wish’d for tools and resources for the task that Ah was commanded tae accomplish, which was that Ah should virtuously and worthily guide an’ direct the authority which was entrusted tae mae. Yae know o’course that no one can make known any skill, nor direct and guide any authority, without tools and resources; a man cannot work on any enterprise without resources.”

He looks directly at Marius and MacKenzie, then he looked at Brom his eyes averting to the Mo’r Okesula, then seagreen eyes looked at Bess... “Recind yer order M’Lady... Dunnae increase the guards... keep all the norm...” then he smirked... “Lest yae use shadow resources we have locally... and these dunnae need tae knaew...” His eyes would damn near tell her to use Claramae’s resources. Looking back at Marius, Janice, Brennah and the new man, Adam simply smirked... which would make all there minds wonder at his decision and resolve...

“There is much turmoil amidst... From mae reports, Spain wishes tae oust the Muslims, the Muslims wish the Strait... France, well, France shall be France... and Flanders is under pressure again... and in the middle is Skye... Be they jealous of our freedom, or if profits motivate those to be more profitable... The Gaelic Nations are strong, and in order to deal with Kings and Queens, it takes a King and Queen, nae a Duke ‘r Duchess...” he turned sharply and looked at them... “Power corrupts... and absolute power corrupts absolutely... and if I am bullied, sae shall I bully back...”

Strolling the Hall, Adam did put on his own version of the dramatics, walking around the group, daring them to even veer their eyes toward him, meanwhile looking up to Bess on occasion. Then he smirked at Marius’ cousin... “Yae outta see ‘er when she is upset...” then he laughed... “Nay, the Gaelic Court shall nay be locked down becaue of any Papal Bull... Italia is Italia, Skye is Skye, and should the Pope himself wish tae coom tae Turas Lan to issue the Bull himself, Ah welcome ‘im...” Stopping to their left, he moved to the right, stopping before each one... Eye to eye contact... How would they see him? Would one look back or divert their eyes...?

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

The Harp Room
Part I

Maahes:

The events in the halls had billowed down the stone as if carried on the wind, and pressed by the rage of the thunder. What good would a spring be without it's storm? In like a lion, out like a lamb; the harsh winter had turned it's face from the world rolling into the horizon to sleep while the body of a new season opened her eyes. The living sigh of her careless breath, rushed over the hills, and over the sea to only stir up the sky. Dark heavy clouds rolled in from the ocean, casting away the stars and even hiding the moon's half turned smile. He lived in moments as this, felt alive and free. The first drop of rain was cherished--more rare then any precious jewel in the lands of his birth. The sun was relentless, Egypt's oasis nothing but dry burning sands that even now the memory could haunt his every moment..that someday Skye would be taken from him. A massive man, an unmovable mountain could hold the kingdom on his shoulders, but no matter how he swore--or how he begged--Bess or Adam never let him carry the full load. In the moments that passed, the great hall had been opened, and a table set for those who would gather. Yet, it was not the distant storm that made the world feel so heavy, the air so thick, but as he came round the corner and the fires in the hearth alive in amber eyes; Maahes would find his reason. A second nature, the pull of a growing battle could see to it the lion found himself in the midst of all the spider's webs, but was that a harp that so delicately directed his heart? (d

Martin:

It was spring, the season when wars and rumors of war sprouted up like winter wheat, filling the fields with it unrestful waivering. Martin  felt it in the air, the roiling of spirit that he had when things were about to change.In most years, that meant business, sieges to be defended from, machines rolling; castle walls checked to see all the repairs were done. "Done. Am I done with my career now?" he thought as he walked along the corridor, there in the castle. "My daughter goes off to do the work I once did, at her age. I am done?  Gad! I hope not!" (d)

Rosalind:

Rosalind and the bishop were not a rare sight within the castle, but they were not so frequently seen together.  She placed a hand upon the bishop's elbow only after he insisted, though her familiar cane remained in her other hand.  Few would ever see that she did indeed rely upon the bishop for balance, so sure and confident were her steps, despite the minor dip in her stride.  They spoke in quiet voices, Rosalind more than happy to revert to her Picardie-accented French, and Meurig rusty, but glad for the practice after spending so much time butchering his Italian. They spoke of Rosalind's children -- particularly of the one that might not have existed had the matchmaking Welshman succeeded.  There was much sighing and shaking of heads, and a commiserating laugh from Meurig as she recounted her daughter's latest feat, with her father cheering her on the entire way, but of course.  As they turned down the hall, Rosalind's step faltered a moment.  Though she had come a long way over the intervening years, her fears were deep-rooted and trespasses not so easily forgiven.  Meurig patted her arm, and Rosalind glared upward at the bishop, until she recalled her manners and humility and rapidly apologized, pulled along by Meurig rather than her own willpower to overcome her unreasonable attitude toward the General. She liked him.  He had built her home for her.  He had made his apologies and she had accepted.  It was her own heart that was cracked, and Maahes only deserved her friendship.  She smiled warmly, and inclined her head politely.  "Good day, my lord General," she greeted. *

Beathag:

The storm raged against the expensive glass work windows . Air pushed through the tight crevices to jar any that hosted the expensive shutter fixtures, but all of it save the movement of feet on stone was lost to Beathag.   Life had a rhythm that inspired the way hands moved like water over the strings. Timbre, tone.  Constant collision in vibration with only crystal to be coaxed from the wreckage.  The table was laid, but the woman did not eat.  Like a writer caught up in some muse's assault, her hands played a song worthy of any warrior's table, but it played at this table set for the unarrived, attended now only by ghosts.  Adam referred to her as his counselor. The Celts favored their advise givers inclined to old ways. Voices built up rapport beyond the doors that were just ajar. After the words exchanged during last eve's audiences, her brother Caldean was a stoic, auburn statue beside the door while Brom was the more fortunate of the two, just behind the harpist ."Looks like the General, m'lady, n' others. Shall they come in if they please or wish you not to be disturbed?"  "Thank ye Brom, but such are ne'er a disturbance tae me, I 'ear good familiar folk, let them in, good folk help makes good thought."      Had Maahes ever met the man that opened the door just now, and bowed just so?  His resemblance to those of the darker haired from the portraits was unmistakable, and he wore enough of Murieall's features to be more than his father's son. Brom would move down the hall to greet them, LePower, Avalle, The Bishop, and the General. A decorated, celebrated gathering!  (d)

Ahmir:

Life could be interesting at times.  It truly could be.  Who would have thought a chance encounter at a random tavern would end up directing his path to the very walls of the castle.  Then again, in his own eyes, it was the path the gods must have designed for him.  To what ends, he still did not know, but it was not every day that Ahmir managed to gain invitation into the castle of what land's capital when he happened through.  At least not unless he was working to get there.  There would be a hint of curiosity as he was allowed entrance and then given reign to wander on his own in the direction that was issued.  He had expected to have his weapons removed, which was why he had come sparsely armed.  He had cleaned up to the point where he would be wearing freshly cleaned and pressed trousers, with a crimson tunic that fit his frame, hanging nicely.  Dark hair that reached down to his chin was left loose, while the slight beard that had grown over the course of two days remained present upon those copper skinned, Egyptian features.  Eyes the color of the desert under the midday sun gazed upon a gathering that seemed to be headed in the direction he had been given, and so it was with silence from his lips and upon his steps that would lead him to the rear of this small grouping so that he too might enter that Hall that held the sounds of music flowing from within.  Eyes raked over the grouping before him, though he did not linger his gaze upon any for more than a single moment, sizing each of them up quickly.  ~d~

Maahes:

"Good Evening, Lady.." Her title had never been known to a man who did not favor much by greater manners. Politics made him weary--nervous of the react to follow; for wars could be started he had learned by simply forgetting to bow. A thick neck came to bend in his bow, his eyes dipping to the pirate's wife. "Bishop." Thunder rolled behind his tongue as he spoke to the man through vindictive teeth as he forced back a comment of Holy Wars, and whores. The name of his Lord sounded so precise..blissful--natural, as it rolled from his lips in a small Arabic prayer to bide his peace, and keep his tongue. Once the doors were open, and the room opened to the rest dark eyes swept the room scanning each corner as if reading a book; his mind combed over the words much the same, a struggle this language, had it not any pictures...well then he didn't find much pleasure in it. From the arena he had come, armed to the teeth, a decorated war veteran whose title alone gave him rank and privilege along side the royals if the friendship wasn't enough. He came round to where the harper played, the sounds of blissful measure could have put him to sleep in the midst of any battle raging both on and off the field. He loved this woman dearly, and a kiss to her cheek would be proof. "Your grace." Oh, look at that--manners! With respect given to the guard his eyes rose again over the room to watch the faces old and new file one by one through the doors. However, a flood of conversation was quick to be silenced as the man of distant lands found his way before the sights of the Beast. A heavy chest drew in a breath, sharp and quick--knowing. He knew this man, or so he thought. Either way amber eyes burned into him like the desert sun, and refused to back down. A stone wall this one, who was not the shadow of the court, but the brute force of the backhand this woman before him carried. (d

Meurig:

Meurig was mild for one of his station, and to the Moor, he just arched a brow and inclined his head minutely.  It was not a slight.  Not much more deference was due, as a bishop of the Holy Roman Empire.  He watched as the Moor went forward, not as suspicious as one of his peers may be, but Meurig had been sent to the end of the Church's reach for several reasons, none of which were harmful to Skye.  He would not enjoy such a relationship with the rulers here, had he set his heart upon swaying the religious convictions of the High Lord and Lady. Rosalind more than made certain Meurig remembered that promise.  Had she been born a man, she would have made a fine theologian, and he might be out of his current job.

Rosalind:

Rosalind led them in after Maahes, rather proud of Meurig for saying nothing to the Moor.  One of the saviors of Wales, and on his way to sainthood if any of his countrymen were to be consulted, he -- like all men of Europe -- had his misgivings about the Moors, none of which had been soothed by Rosalind's history.  "Your grace," Rosalind greeted, giving the traditional deep curtsey afforded her sovereign, and rising with the elegance of a woman half her age, and without the twisted leg that so hampered her powerful stride.  "Music soothes the savage beast, I am told, but might it soothe a storm?" A glimmer of humor in Rosalind's otherwise sober hazel eyes. *

Adam:

Adam shivered as he entered the castle, handing the servant the oil-treated  cloak. "Damn spring weather..." then he ruffled his mane shaking the water out... "Ah need a drink, ah do..." then as he made his way down the corridor, he saw the trails of Bess' dress, he'd recognize anywhere...Quickly, he followed behind her, "Yo wench of min...." his sentence trailed off... Oh chyt!! Guests... He did not realize there were others present... and he was going to tease his wife... noit tonight... "M'pardon Ladies, Lords... Ah didn't realize we had guests... Welcome one and all..." :::::::::::

Beathag:

"Must be the only near Queen tae be called a wench in the eyes o' the court by her husband n' merely shake her head. let alone be kissed by a sun skin colored man n' nay think twice on it. "  She pressed her hands against thestrings of the harp to stand and take in a hug for Maahes, another for her husband, and a turn to Rosalind while simply chuckling as she stepped down to touch her shoulder, "Ah've been told the Aberdeen harp could quell Gods, sae we shall see if it does  a storm. It lulls men tae pause, aye?  Yer Holiness, tis good tae see ye about..we have visited tae less. Yer cousin tells me one benefits from yer presence.  N' LePower! Just the man Ah wish tae see. N' since all are gathered...E'eryone, Amir..Amir..but a samplin' o' the folk you will find within the castle. Amir is a good conversationalist n' quite wise.  N' given his origins tis wisdom we'd downright pay for.  Wot brings all tae congregate in the hall?  Was told if the hall was set, folk might emerge, though maybe twas the harp instead o' the food? A woman may be allowed a small bit o' pride."   Her humor was as infectious as Rosalind's perhaps the two might set the room to laughing! The storm mirrored what the world was like beyond the Isle, at the moment. "Within six days.. we will be crowned. Sooner rather than later.  Paper rains as hard as water does in these days. Were tha' the herald read wot was upon m'study desk, your ears would burn at all hours. Ah've ne'er heard o' sultans, kings, the Pope, riches, n' war mentioned in sae many sentences for or against in sae many languages. Bishop, the Pope's agents are vera busy spreadin' his alleged discontent, yet fer it all, Ah've recieved boxes from Italy.  Avignon is nay pleased, yet Rome is? Humor must nay leave us.  We will need it. Ye will need it tae . Ye have all become rebels within Europe fer it, far more than afore." (d)

Ahmir:

As the doors were opened and the procession of those before him entered, Ahmir let his eyes gaze upon the guards that were closest, before that golden gaze came to rest upon Beathag, by who's invitation he had found himself there that very evening.  The next target for those eyes to rest upon would be the large man who would come to lean down and kiss her cheek.  Something sparked within the back of his mind as a clear view of the male's face was taken.  Something familiar was there, though he could not force it to the front of his mind.  His own form was not quite as thick as the other Egyptian's, yet it held strength within it, he was built more for speed and stamina than anything else.  Eyes devoid of any emotion would meet those eyes of amber.  He showed absolutely nothing to the other male, before a simple smirk slid over his lips, and his chin dipped down in the slightest of nods as he found his name being mentioned and introductions being made for him to the others.  Manners would dictate that he pull his gaze away from the other male's to let his eyes come over the others present.  A small bow of his head offered to each in turn.  "A pleasure and an honor, I have no doubt, to meet you all...and you flatter me, M'lady, but I thank you for your gracious words."  He then allowed himself to shift back out of the spotlight of the conversation

Maahes:

Perhaps that is what made them such a pair, these years past, brute strength against the speed of another--perfected. How many times in the past had he wanted so badly to recreate those years, live them again if only to remember how it was the blade fell. Visions and memories flashed behind his eyes of the blinding sun, the deep blue endless sky and the gold of the ever changing sand beneath his feet. It was a fight for freedom, where some won and others lost; Maahes won to only be traded a year later.The other had been out of Egypt a long time, and this was known only in the manner of his perfect use of the English words. Behind Adam Maahes would come to stand his arms crossing over his shoulders as he came to back his King. For now silence fell over him, the ever stoic brutal man whose only weakness was in tiny hands that could wrap around his finger. (d

Adam:

The slight blush upon his face as he looked around, then saw Bess... Canting his head slightly as if to saw sorry, chyt happens... as for the clergy he would bow his head slightly.He respected Meurig and Father Donovan, but not many else in the Church... The strings she could pluck on that harp...t'was so beautiful, and if she ever made a mistake, she could hide it well... and each time she played, he would imagine Lord Alan and his grandmother listening to the same harp.Her words shook him from the thought and he listened... andas usual, what she said was true... "Rebels of Europe?" Adam addressed the subject. "Nay consider us rebels...tis the errent Kings of Europe that are rebels... they rebel against their people's freedoms... they chide women like cattle..." oh chyt, she did get him rolling on a soapbox... Looking to Meurig, he bows... "Nae offense Yer Grace..." then he looks at the others... "For centuries wars have been fought for, or because of religion... I dunnae want a war for or against religion... I want it for freedom... freedom of all people if possible... fredom of trade, that would benefit all..." He came in for a drink, and he gets into politics... Pouring himself a whiskey... "I was brought up in the Catholic way... even wanted to become clergy... but all Ah 'ave seen in mae life, religion is not what it should be..." he looks at Bess, then to the others... "Ah 'ave no religion... BUT, Ah dae 'ave FAITH... FAITH in God and in man... and in the trees, and rocks o' the Gaelic Nations..."He swallows the whiskey fast. "Aye, Ah bae accepting the Crown... and soon..." Then he set the glass down and looked around. This had been the very first tiem ANYONE, save Bess, say he would accept the kingship.  :::::

Martin:

"Ah, thank you."he noded politely to Brom, who admitted him to this chamber.  Dignified, his navy blue merchant's robe spoke of success; Martin bowed, leaning heavily on his walking stick , greeted them al in turn; Your Majesties.  Bishop.  Lady." He had a good eye for who was who, but the Amir stumped the old man. "Greetings. " as Martin had a terribly embarassing "senior moment".  He smiled and tried not to get into too much trouble. (d)

Meurig:

"Religion has become political, Your Grace," Meurig said gently, bowing respectfully to the Duke.  "When it is a matter of man, his intercessor, and his deity, it is a pure and good thing.  A thing worth preserving, for a kingdom without religion is a kingdom without morality.  Without law, without governance, man is reduced to his natural state, and anarchy reigns."  Did Meurig truly believe what he espoused, or was he placating two diametrically opposed points of view?  It was difficult to tell, judging by the expression on his face, comparable to Rosalind's only in how little it revealed.  Though he did smile then, chuckling a little before turning to address the others, and offering a blessing to those who asked for one. "Let us hope freedom includes the freedom to worship as he chooses, even if it is a Church that is not so ... free."  Here he did joke, and received another scathing look from Rosalind as he deviated from the Church's script, though he saw how she turned her profile to him and the corner of her mouth rose in amusement.  Hypocrite.  "As for rebellion, I see none here."  He rolled his shoulders absently, and being the Church's authority, his word counted for something. 

Rosalind:

His seemingly passive acceptance of heresy spooked Rosalind, but she had sworn fealty to these two deserving souls, and even stoic Rosalind could adapt to changing times.  Had she not herself held the Pope by his proverbial lapels once upon a time?  She squared her own shoulders and lifted her chin slightly.  "Avignon would not act without Philip's consent, I assure you, but these are troubled times.  The storm says it all." *

Beathag:

"Ah hope nay, Rosalind. The amount o' Papal bullion upon our desks is sayin' otherwise, which leads me tae believe the world is full o' snakes.  We've met the Pope, yer Grace,  in fact he was e'en amused by m'brashness n' Adam's bravery. He considered me the most fascinatin' heathen he'd e'er met. Take it as a compliment, really."  She signed softly as she watched her husband drink whisky, chuckling, "Have faith in rocks n' trees husband, they make ships n' homes n' all matter o' other things which shelter and send out men tae dae our will.   Wot e'er is movin about, it is enough tae raise the ire tae try tae kill the entire royal family, this is nay new.    Yer Grace, will ye find among your holy men those gain enough tae travel tae Rome with a personal gift tae his holiness?  Think it may way all intentions in the end. Le'Power..."  She smiled to the old man "Ye have six days tae build me a spring arbor fer the Cathedral gardens n' an altar as his grace deems, fer the coronation, n' then ye haste yerself tae London.  Believe the Governor has need o' ye."  Then to Maahes.."M'husband may say one thing, but among yer men pick at least a pair ye'd know Kendrew would be pleased tae see where Talon tips. With Dimitri at a duty...m'husband's back is tae precious tae leave uncovered..consider it a coronation gift love, mor company."  She chortled...but then said in a half slighted tone " Wot think ye all, pon these times?" (d)

Ahmir:

As would tend to be Ahmir's habit, he would find a space where either no one would be standing at his back or able to get there without his knowing, or he would lean his back against a column if there happened to be one nearby.  The positioning of the large male that seemed so familiar to Ahmir was indeed noted, yet so would the words of all those present.  His journeys as of late had left him out of the circle of knowledge when it came to the most recent states of political or social unrest in most countries.  Fortunate that he would find himself present that evening where such news would be offered out so freely.  As Beathea asked opinions of all that had been spoken, he tilted his head slightly as he thought.  His own opinions would remain unspoken, finding this gathering and the manner, as well as the atmosphere rather unusual, especially when in the presence of those who had just admited to, if not already being royalty, to being crowned as such in mere days.  As the conversation spoke of religion, it was another subject he would currently remain silent upon.  Many had gone over to the belief of a single God, in whatever religion they happened to practice and believe in...yet his own personal beliefs remained with those of the Ancient Pantheons of his homelands.  A subject many found...strange about him in many lands he had visited.  ~d~

Maahes:

From behind them all he moved slowly walking the length of the wall in a slow careful motion, but still keeping his arms crossed lazily over his chest. "You ask Muslim of what he think of the Pope coming?" He gave a heavy snort, letting his arms fall as his attention broke then from the desert born male, and he pushed around a few contents on the service table. "It has been too long, Bess..Adam..since I have had a war to win, a battle to fight. All my life..never such idle times." He had grown impatient on the matter, rolling the serving blade over his fingers before placing it back down. "Only men in my country who wear hats like that, kiss other men." Lord General turned to face them all, "I've killed many man of God, if I must. So be it." Though he knew the extent of the matter, that killing the Pope was like killing Christian King. Every cross wielding fool would come hunt him and have his tendrils of hair around their necks in decoration. Maahes shivered at the thought. "I'll find you the best of the best, or go along myself, but I know of the attention I bring." It hurt him to think of Balian held captive and unable to call for help simply because of the color of his skin, and the birthright of his nation. Perhaps Bess and Adam did not think of the risks of putting such a faith devoted man of God at their head of militia--though weren't they pagan? A heavy hand came to pull his dagger from the holster at the small of his back and the well sharpened blade would slowly start to be cleaned, as he let them all return to their conversations, and his eyes returned to Ahmir. His threats were never empty, but with deep seeded reason--the blood stained blade in his hand proof. (d

Adam:

Adam looked at Meurig... "Yer Grace speaks for the Church? or himself? he mused... "My policy has alwasy been freedom of religion..." he looks at Bess and smiles... "No single Church, as the Plantagents had hoped... Ah have proclaimed years past that no man need a Priest to pray for him... he may drop upon his knees and speak tae God in any form..." He looks at Rosalind... "And ah doubt Philip... M'Lady... pardon me, but members of his court have visited the Berbers... and privateers have been flying the French flag, with supposed letter of Marque... Meanwhile, Spain threatens to oust the Muslims..." he looks around... "and these KINGS... they send away my emmissaries... because they do not wih to speak to a mere DUKE..." Adam poured and drank yet anothger glass of whiskey.... Bess always knew how to keep Adam in check, without even saying a word... The thrid drink would be slower... more discernable... more deliberate.... Coronation... it seemed so foreign to him, yet it was upon his doorstep...Adam looks to Maahes..."I fear my General, that too soon, yu may have to commit more lives for Skye..."   :::::::

[Lord General Maahes Asad-Aziem]

The Harp Room
Part II

Martin:

Overhearing he is in the presence of folks who have met the Pope, Martin siddles into the background of this gathering, taking not to say anything more.  He wishes he was still at his daughter's home. "Six days?  And I rest upon the seventh, like the Creator? I can do that, Your Highness. " LePower answered her, and one could almost see his partially dormant brain click into go-mode. There was an impish gleam in those bright blue eyes as he turned to the Bishop and stated,"So, what do yu think of, a nice relic for the Altar?  I have a nice knuckle bone of Pope Joan I purchased while in Rome last?" Was it some Irish joke or was he serious? Who knew, with Martin? (d)


Rosalind:

"Mon Dieu," Rosalind said quietly, crossing herself.  The bishop next to her did not even twitch at such heretical statements, but stared benignly at them all, even smiling a bit.  "A coronation is a political matter, oui, but also an ordainment before God of the legitimacy of your nation.  There are people in your governance who prescribe to the Church, Your Graces.  As do most of the Continental states.  To not have the Pope's benediction opens your nation to attack.  Though my lord General grows weary of having no battles to fight, I promise you, I am weary of battle.  As is any mother with sons." She glanced upward to Meurig for a long moment, contemplating her next words while regaining her balance.  Rosalind did not lose her temper easily, but she often spoke in a firm voice that left little room for argument.  Since she spoke in such a way so rarely, many believed her by nature prickly, though truly, she usually only sounded her voice when there was a matter worth reconsidering.  Then she looked back to the High Lord.  "Your Grace, I do not know who has given you such information, but it is patently wrong.  Forgive me, but this I would know, for though it has been not a matter of this court, I was given the duchy of Auvergne some months past, when His Majesty of France was impressed the importance of the title's legitimacy."  She had been given the title of comtesse when the error of her parentage had been discovered, but such a rank stripped Auvergne of its customary autonomy.  The peerage had nearly rebelled. "Were Philip making movements in such a direction, I would be among the first to know."  Rosalind had her sources within the court itself, as much good as that did anyone these days.  France had a great wall built around its capital.


Meurig:

"Pope ... Joan?" Meurig asked, arching a sandy brown brow very deliberately. *

Beathag:

"And sae they may prescribe tae their Church, Lady Avalle. Ah'm nay without sense enough tae know how the world works, but Ah dun assume we would be without the pope's blessin since twas he who ordained our oddity in the first  place. All o' the children have been brought tae the church door n' blessed tae be taken intae he annuals o' the Church as is the annuals o' time. I m'self am baptized, but ye know  m'persuasion. It's moot.  Perhaps Lady, if ye'd write tae yer contacts, n' have them return the writ, twould appease the mind. Though I dae believe ye.  With our without the move o' Christendom, General, ye shan't be bored vera long, Anythin tha' wishes tae kill me is either Berber or Spanish, n' same with Ahdam or wot else. If ye find the archivist, ye should follow her tae Ebony Hall. Ah'm certain they would appreciate yer heavy handed help. Or ye could gae tae London. Or e'en Ediburgh.  Stornoway is closer.  Ah'm afraid years o' peace..will end." (d)

Adam:

Adam glances at Rosalind... "M'Lady...yu are so correct... and I heed yer advice... so wot bae the best advice on how to receive this benediction? Especially if reports are ture wot we heard?" Adam canted his head a bit.The Mo'r Triath seemed a bit confused. If not Philip, then who? Then he scratched his head... He would listen to Bess, but his mind would be elsewhere... and as sushc he would wander out into the corridor... his drink inhand... He had to think... He had not even said his farewells... Down the corridor, the thud of his boots soon silenced. ::::

Martin:

Martin stood there, both hands resting on the walking stick, tilting his head to one side, eyes cast to one side, slightly puzzled. "Should I begin the projects on the morrow or not?"

Ahmir:

That golden hued gaze shifted between each person who spoke in turn, while arms came to wrap across his chest.  Throughout the conversations that passed back and forth, one hand found it's way up to rub over his chin in thought.  So it seemed that the majority of those here believed that peace was not something that would last much longer in these lands.  It was an interesting bit of information, though from what angles the threats came was another bit of information that he would indeed find interesting.  Sometimes just listening and being in the right room at the right time could provide such interesting food for the mind.  Eyes watched as Adam moved about the hall and then made his way out, leaving those gathered once more.  Truly Skye was an interesting place.  ~d`

Rosalind:

Rosalind inclined her head in slight humility, unused as she was to speaking out so frankly.  It was an oddity in a woman who governed one of Scotland's most humbled clans, one whose temerity and stubbornness in her refusal to submit to her fortune had changed the fate of Scotland.  She found a great deal to respect and admire in Bess, and yes -- this coronation would be a very good thing indeed for all of them.  "I propose you accept his blessing.  He will give it.  His Grace," she inclined her head to Meurig, as the titles were beginning to confuse, "has only just returned from Rome.  If anyone would have His Holiness's opinion, it would be he.  Then you may celebrate however you wish." 

Meurig:

"I should even forgive those indecent poles with which you celebrated May," Meurig added helpfully.

Rosalind:

There is no reason to suggest we cannot all live together, as we have previously.  There is no reason to spurn the Church, when its presence here is thus far completely without malice.  I see no reason to adjust any philosophy which has thus far guided the Gaelic Nations to such a strong position.  I shall call upon my contacts, madam, of course, and continue my discourse with France, such as it is." *


Beathag:

"Yer Grace, ti s nay an indecent pole," she gently chided, " N' fact the May customs 'ave been adopted by many Christ folk they just dun call it Beltane anymore. It's a Maybone pole, or  May pole, but they are  nay indecent. They wish fertility n' good things 'pon the land. Frankly they seem to work,"  she jested with a grin. Such prolific populace were they!  One woman did not stand to give one child, oh no. She bred armies. " We shall nay change ourselves, we've lived tagether these years we may keep daein sae.  Dun intend tae tell any wot be right nor wrong. Tha's the worlds folly as it is. Ifn I did tha' tae a Christian, twould be as guilty o' it as a Christian tellin it tae me. Perhaps we remain odd, Ahdam and I, the Christian who will nay gae inae a Church and his pagan wife, whom has discourses with the father o' the Cathedral in the church, often. Who's children are blessed but whom when she dies will lay on a dragon ship pyre."  If Adam ever placed her in a graveyard, or her children, she'd haunt them until they passed out. "Six days.  Amir.."  She beckoned him closer "Yer a quiet, observant man. Much as in the tavern when we met, come, share yer thoughts.  Unless the wall is more interestin." (d)

Ahmir:

As he came to be addressed once more having the spotlight placed upon him, a small smile worked it's way over his lips as he pushed himself away from the wall where he had been observing and listening.  "You can learn much simply while observing, M'lady...Many times it is best to remain quiet at certain times...As for myself, though, I prescribe to my roots and heritage when it comes to the worship of religion.  I follow not a single God, but the Pantheon of the Ancients, Ra, Set, Anubis, and so on.  While most of my countrymen has suscribed to the religion of the Muslims, I am an oddity.  In truth, to hear of a land not proclaiming a single religion, and promising the freedom of any in their particular faith...it is a new concept that I find...encouraging."  ~d~

Rosalind:

It was one that Rosalind sometimes found deeply upsetting, but she held her tongue in most controversial matters, subscribing to a plan of attack similar to Amir's -- one that involved far more observation than action.  Adam and Bess were heretics, but they were heretics Rosalind had sworn her life to.  It perplexed Rosalind when she thought about it.  A deeply intelligent woman, she chose not to think about it if she could help herself.  Meurig seemed to find great pleasure in Rosalind's ethical quandary, the subterranean chuckle felt only by Rosalind, whose hand still rested upon the crook of his holy arm.  Rosalind finally gave up, and curtsied gracefully.  "Forgive me, madam, but there is much to do before I find my bed this evening.  I shall be in the old Lamont suites until the end of this week -- my road home is all but impassable with this weather."  She smiled, and in it, was the promise of much chasing their children around, debates more of the heart than the soul, and pleasant times weaving stories, just as castle life would always be, with or without Lady Inveryne to oversee it.  Bess kept a timeless court.  Meurig also begged his leave, and they left together. *