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> [RP] Mortimer Castle

--Richard_bagwell_bocock
And could she ever say that again!

The silence was awkward but Lord Juliyn seemed of little words. That MUST be Richards cue.

"I .. uh.. I .. beg your pardon sir, erm Lord and Lady Mortimers, I'll just....be on my way" he started to move past them but it was close quarters now with three healthy people inside. Two would have been plenty, was plenty only seconds ago. Now there were plenty of things a single man unattached man should not see, he thought to himself.

It was horrifying, but to get to the door he had to squeeze and flatten himself, nearly tripping over his feet to get out. Privacy, they need privacy, and I need four buckets of cold water, he thought again.

Before either of the couple could speak, he fell through the pantry door, swinging back against it as it closed. He'd meant to try and shield them. They had snuck into the storage room for just that reason. It shut with such a loud clamor that he even surprised himself as he panted, gasping even, with his back pressed against it.

"Almighty Jah.."
he whispered.


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--Rose_the_cook
She stood lookin at the poor man, white as clean sheets and huffing'apuffin like an overworked mule. By the looks of him she was none to sure that SHE wanted to know what was in the pantry much less go in there later to put things away!

"Aye! What's the matter man? You look like you're sweating out sickness. Are you ill? Did you eat something molded? Go on now, answer me" she ordered. Now of all times, Liza was not here. She might need to call out the back for the stable hands to carry him if he hit the floor.

Instead of answer he just held his finger up, kept swallowing, shaking his head. She just sat the plate down and put her hands on her full hips. She cocked her brow at him and was determined to figure this out.

"Did you see something in the pantry, then? Carrying on like that, something had to get at you. Go on now, Tell Miss Rose what done got you turned topside lad" she thought maybe coaxing him might work.


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--Liza_the_maid
"Forgive me Miss, I meant to bring the tea to calm you. Are you well, milady? Should you need anything I could get you?" she bowed.

The Lady Cordelia and her sweet daughter, fair Fiona, were two of a kind. Never had Liza seen such deep red curls or fair milky skin. This new baby would carry on the same, if it were lucky. Aunt Rose says that she saw mane like that before come over on boats for trade once. They stayed for months in the taverns. Rose said they drank like fish but their skin was pale and their hair was of fire. Liza dropped her eyes to the floor again and waited to see if she would be needed for anything else.
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Cordelia
"I am well enough. And I thank you for tea. 'Tis most welcome. If ye could show me to my room or to where some people are, I would be most obliged." She smiled at the maid lightly, masking the different worries she had: Kenna's reaction to the baby, Viceroy's distance, her traditional difficulities with pregnancies..."
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Dowager Queen, GPKoA, Duchess of Surrey, Earl of Herstmonceux | Let Us Lead By Serving Others | I'll come back when you call me...
--Richard_bagwell_bocock
Oh in his head he always had answers. He said such elegant, quick witted things. He could be proper or a right angry badger! Full on speeches or just what ever the answer should be. Except, no matter what he said or even if he jumped up and down, those wonderful bits and bobs in his head never seemed to make it to his lips or our his mouth. No not even tween his teeth.

It was such a shame that no one could hear it. It sure would help out in times like these..

He could say for instance, No, good lady, I ate no moldy item nor did I get gotten, I simply was inside the pantry with Penelope, Juliyn, Kenna, and myself. Be sure to know, it was at different times, twice by myself, which were the less interesting peaks of my afternoon BY FAR! I suggest you look not in the pantry to well into tomorrow afternoon, however. It is currently still under occupation and well.. just trust me, you don't want to go in there.

He would have answered eventually. He had intentions.

It was just that she had said a name he'd heard earlier in the night. She had called herself "Rose".

"You" he whispered.

"You... you... you" he stuttered. Ah spit it out for Christos sakes!



"You are the Rose? The very same Rose Lord Drestakil should like me to marry?" he said. NO! Not that, you toad! NOoooo! Why did you say that!?! his inside voice shrieked.

He saw the look on her face change. Somewhere, the other very quiet, very frightened part of him got goose pimples and whispered "help"

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--Rose_the_cook
The Prince's brother? He'd meant to marry her off??

She was the cook of the house, the room where everything happened, and yet she was still the last to know. Don't it just go to figuring?

She felt heat in her cheeks, even as old as she was. She'd never ever meant to marry. Her Gran told her it'd be best to stay a maiden and she'd given her many reasons why that was wise.

And why would the Missus let such a thing take place? It was not a woman's place to go against the man, but if she were no longer the cook then how would they eat? Who would feed the help, the house, and the heathen?

She'd agreed to making the donations, she'd even gone to the churches and worked for the Missus, but wasn't this taking the the words "giving to the poor" a little further than need be?

She'd not given him a good look, but now she did.

I mean, if a woman of her grace and fullness were going to be a man's bride, she should at least know what he looks like. She let her eyes look into his, scan down his frame, the width of his shoulders and hips, the health of his hands and sturdy legs, and even the size of his feet.

On a scale of better than Beef or Legless lamb he was at least a tender cutlet of pork. He would do if she had to go through with it.

She walked slowly towards him, a persuasive stride to her gait. For some reason he looked as if he might back away.

Was he truly this shy? or was he trying with all his might to play hard to get?

Better get on with it, she thought, Lord Drest can say the sun turned violet and if it hadn't it better and quick!

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--Liza_the_maid
"Yes mum, this way. I only know that the Lady Gina, Lord O'Neill, and your husband the Prince are about to retire for the evening. They are still in the dining hall presently" she held the door wide for the Lady "..Lord Drestakil has already made for bed, the Lady Kenna has been to the kitchen, she is now in the garden with Mary sound asleep with the nurse upstairs" she was accounting for the family in the house but she couldn't say where the young couple had gone off to.

She led the way now and stopped short in the door way.

"I present the Lady Cordelia" she told them, bowing twice and hurrying off back the kitchen.

She was shocked to find Rose in what looked to be a very odd, very uncomfortable stand off.

"Rose?!? What's the matter?" she asked, innocently.

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Dutchbart
Bart had watched Drests scheme unfold with great pleasure and enjoyed seeing Richard as nervous and clumsy as ever. He had not minded the conversations at the dinner table at all and it hadn't even really sunk in that most, if not all, family members had already left the table. Bart looked around the dining room and wondered where Kenna had gone, Gina and Vice were still here “How are you and Cordelia doing?” Bart asked suddenly, breaking the silence in the room.
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Mary-Calista Marlise O'Neill
Drestakil
The moon was rising, full and bright, hanging like some huge, dim sun in the night sky. All but the brightest stars were dimmed out, but he could just make out the Great Square and over there The Plough.

Drestakil gave the horse his head and let him run, feeling the air blow his hair back. Drest clucked his tongue and Adamant stretched his legs, flying down the road, a cloud of dust behind them. The road curved first one way, then another, then straightened. He was surprised to find himself riding down the street of a small village. He had passed through here many times, but never this late at night. He saw the lights of the local tavern and rode toward it.

Drestakil spied a dark mass in the alley next to the tavern. Curiosity got the best of him and he rode toward it. The mass broke apart and one part sprang at him. He slid off his horse on the side away and was pulling his sword up out of the scabbard and cutting down before the man knew what had hit him. The blade bit into the man's shoulder and he staggered away, leaving a dark trail of blood on the ground.

Drest moved toward the much smaller mass still in the alley. He heard a weak voice whisper, "Are...are you Death? ...come for me?" Drest heard a rattle and a ragged intake of breath, "You ride a pale horse and you're dark. Your eyes are fire..." and the voice trailed off.

Sheathing his sword, Drestakil knelt down and cradled the head of an old man in his arms. He sighed and said, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
Plainly the old man was on his last, his throat had been cut and there was blood down his chest.

"And I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death," the old man whispered. "Death, take me home. I've fought the good fight. I've loved and been loved," and another ragged breath, "I've sired 5 children...all gone to the plague. My family," once more a ragged, shuddering breath, "...all gone...mother, father, sisters, brother, aunts, uncles...all gone." Sightless eyes looked at Drestakil, a hand clawed its way up his arm, "You must know, Death, why? Why all of this?" The old man fought for air, "Why will you not tell me? Surely YOU know."

What can I say? thought Drestakil. I DON'T know...it makes no sense to me.

The old man's head sank on his chest, his arm slid down, his last whisper was, "I've been waiting for you for years...," and he went limp. Drest bowed his head. He lost himself in thought for a few minutes, then lifted the lifeless body and carried it into the tavern. The old man's body was ridiculously light, no weight at all. As he entered he said, "Does anyone know who this man was?" Faces turned toward him, several gasping as they recognized the old man. The bartender's face was sad when he said, "That was Jordan. He was as harmless as they come...wouldn't hurt a fly. Who could have done this to him?"

Drest laid the body on the bar, "I'm not sure, but look for someone who has a sword cut on his shoulder. I gave that to the one who attacked me." Drest turned to leave, "The old man said he had no family?" The bartender nodded in assent. "I'll leave, then. I wish I had gotten there sooner."

Outside Adamant was waiting, moving restlessly. Drest climbed into the saddle and turned the horse's head toward Mortimer Castle.
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--Richard_bagwell_bocock
He put up his hands in front of his person and backed up quickly, but he heard her voice, the girl from before and he turned to look at her and then again at the other woman.

"No no no, this is all wrong" he said quickly "..I know the name he said was Rose but it was you" he pointed to the younger girl " I thought you were Rose" he said, still confused.



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Penelope_rose
Enclosed in the embrace of her husband, Penelope looked at him and tried so very hard not to laugh. "Oops," she whispered as the door slammed shut. "I do hope we didn't embarrass him too much!"

A woman's voice on the other side of the pantry door caused Penelope to hold her breath as she waited for the door to open. Frantically looking around she could find no place to hide and silently prayed that something, anything, would occur to prevent that door from opening before she and Juliyn could escape without notice.

Her breath exhaled as she heard Richard answer the woman. Yet the timbre of his voice caused Penelope to wonder if he was under some sort of strain. Feeling a bit sorry for the man who had thus far shielded her little tryst with Juliyn, Penelope felt she needed to do him a favor.

Picking up the closest thing to her on the shelf, she left Juliyn's embrace and boldly opened the door, thrusting the mason jar towards Richard. Glancing at the two women, Penelope wondered who Drestakil had arranged for Richard to marry.

Without skipping a beat, Penelope cheerily informed Richard, "I found the applesauce you were looking for!" Penelope fibbed as her eyes caught sight of the jar filled with prunes. Laughing, she blithely continued, "Well, maybe you have a craving for prune pie?"
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Surprise, Surprise!
--Rose_the_cook
The oldest of the three ladies in the room, the one with the usual color to her face she was named for, turned an even brighter shade of red. He said he, and the he Mister BoCock called on could only be Lord O'Neill or the Uncle.

Oh for the goats and glory what she would not give to beat this cad with her rolling pin for crimes he continued to commit. First it was his lie of looks. Handsome and young, but for all his youth and charm, it had never been meant for her. Second was the false truth he claimed about the Uncle. Drestakil, not even the Lady Kenna's husband, would not have given her niece to such a man when he knew her to be too young, in the service of his cousin, as well as much too pretty a maiden even if she were lowly in class, to be the bride of a Lord's retainer. And lastly, he'd just been in the pantry with another mans wife!

She'd never say it, no she would not even let on. Instead her eyes would grace the ground to which she stood on and she would bow to the Lady and let this matter rest until she had this weasel off to the side to bruise and batter for leading her to believe such false fabrications.

This had all been in jest. It was the only thing that made sense. Forever would she be what she was and should have known better than to even flirt with the sentiment of romance!

She returned a very forced smile after coming back up from her show of respect and sent a meaningful, if not ordering, look at Liza.

"Begging your pardon milady" she spoke quietly to Penelope "..our work in the kitchen is done for the night. I will make such pies and sauces on the morrow for you, surely" she promised " but for now I must take my niece up to the sleeping rooms to ready the beds" she walked quickly past Liza, and secured her arm, pulling her quickly away before the girl could object.

She did not look back upon Richard. She did not tarry in the hall. Once she'd made it quite far from their range of hearing she stopped and spun Liza around.

"Get you to bed, little girl. I will do the rest of your chores for this night. Let not my ear hear, my eye see, nor my nose catch a hint of smell of that man either near you or attempting to be so or I swear by the skin of my neck I will set loose my wrath unlike any you've ever seen. I know not what games you have played, and nay, I doubt my heart could bear it! Oh, that Uncle, I should have known! I have warned you about things such as this.." she beat her breast with her fist, her look anguished and weary.

Liza appeared to want to argue it, or speak on her behalf, but Rose shushed her.

"As I say!" she whispered, in a hiss, shooing her on.


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Drestakil
The moon was bright, only the brightest stars showing through. Drestakil rode slowly back to the Castle, his mind moving in dark places. Drestakil was furious. Why? Why had THAT gentle man had to die? ...and for what? So some scat of a thief could get a few shillings? That didn't make sense. Even then...there was no NEED for the man to die. The thief could have had his money and the man live.

Drest rode through the night air, fury coursing through him in place of blood. Could he blame God? The priests said these things were the will of God. Man shouldn't question that will, he should simply accept that God did the things he did for the good of man. God's view was longer and deeper than a mans. He saw far ahead. Man must accept. Well, Drestakil was tired of 'accepting'. In the same way that he couldn't blindly follow the orders of a King, in just the same way he couldn't blindly 'accept' the idea that God's will couldn't be known or understood. They said God made man in his own image. If that was true, then a man should be able to understand why. The actions of God should make sense and a man should be able to see that sense. This didn't make sense, by any standard you cared to choose.

Drestakil looked up into the night sky, 'You took my wife, you took my life, you kept me from my son, you let a madman try to kill my family, you let me find my son and now he's gone....again. And I'm supposed to just let it go...accept it as the 'will of God' and go on. No! I will NOT! You don't deserve that much loyalty.'

As he rode through the Castle gates, past the guards, he was still furious. He kept it hidden, appearing calm and collected as he handed Adamant to the stable boy, but it was still there below the surface. One day he might stand before the throne of the Almighty to answer for his crimes and sins. On that day he would throw it right back into the face of God...Why?

He entered through the kitchen. There weren't many left here this time of night. A large pot was hanging over the fire, something in it gently bubbling. It certainly smelled good. He yawned, inhaling the aromas of the room as he walked through.
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Ladygina
The conversations had died down, people had come in and gone, and returned, and left again. Her stomach was full, and she was tired. She watched as the servants came in and began clearing away the empty dishes. This had been such a lovely day. But it was time to bring it to a close, at least for her. She excused herself for the evening and left the room, heading toward the kitchen to make sure that all was in order in there, and she saw Drestakil entering in the opposite door, yawning as he walked. "Cousin, where did you get off to? Are you retiring for the night as well?"
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| Countess of Arden | Herald of Arms of the CoH | Member of the RHA |
Drestakil
"I think so...too much excitement, too much food, too much catching up. I can't keep up anymore," he said to Gina. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, dark eyes looking at him.

"I am tired," he said. He smiled a bleak smile, "Death wants a rest...in a real bed...with real sheets and a real pillow. I'm going to my room and sit down and have a drink. Sooner or later I'll be able to sleep. Tomorrow will take care of itself."
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