Ladyjennet
The waves lapped at the sides of the ship with a regularity that had lulled more than one tired sailor to sleep. They stood at their posts, somewhat, one slumping against the mainsail, another leaning against the railing, another squatting next to the bucket of soapy water where the deckhand had been cleaning the pristine wooden planks just one more time. The captain at the helm saw all, but kept her eyes sharply towards the island that rapidly loomed before the swift little ship. The winds were constant and steady, the flagship of the Royal English Navy gliding with ease over the dark blue waters that separated the Isle of Anglesey from the mainland. The captain of the ship kept her peace all the while, because these men and women had made the fastest trip up the coast of Wales that she had ever seen, surprising even the captain herself who had demanded that they make for home with all due speed after such a lengthy stay in southern England. The sailors had taken her words so much to heart that they had sliced through the waters with alarming speed, outpacing every ship that had come near them as easily as if they were dancing upon the waves. Persephone might well be small, but, by all the saints, she was fast. And the Princess Regent at the helm smiled as she thought of it. Let the sailors sleep. They had done well, and she was almost home.
Persephone glided into the harbor at Beaumaris slowly, the deckhands having risen with gentle taps to their shoulders by the Princess, who only smiled at them in forgiveness before returning to the helm. They stopped in the docking bay reserved for the Princess' own ship, sails unfurled in billows of white canvas with the royal arms emblazoned on them. She could hear the calls in the distance even as the plank was being lowered, calls from sailor to messenger, from messenger to constable, from constable to keep. All along the streets of Beaumaris town, word was being spread that the Regent of England had returned home.
She made one last check of the ship before disembarking, leaving the vessel in the capable hands of her first mate. The man bowed smartly and then began barking orders at the sailors who remained. Jennet smiled at the familiar scene and made her way down the plank, stepping solidly onto the docks and accepting a grey woolen cloak lined with red fox fur from her lady in waiting. The night air bit through all but the thickest material, swirling off the wavy sea. She tossed the cloak over her shoulders and fastened the silver clasp at her neck. The hood fit snugly over her head, obscuring her features even as she grasped the reins of her white mare and climbed into the saddle. Whether it was horse or waves, it seemed the Regent was always traveling these days and she laughed at how for more than two months her feet had barely touched the ground.
The large traveling party took off with all haste, hooves pounding up the sea coast of the beautiful island, thundering into the night. Beaumaris Castle loomed in the distance, commanding the countryside. Waves rushed in and out of the moat that had been dug around the castle with the tide, belying its connection directly to the sea. The flags of the de Holland family and of the lady that now owned this magnificent castle fluttered softly in the breeze. The very walls seemed to breathe in and out with the rhythm of the life that lived within. Beaumaris had a soul, and it was in harmony with that of the lady who now called Anglesey home. Grey stone towers rose four stories into the sky, topped with battlements and the men at arms who patrolled here. Some were dressed in the red and silver livery of their lady, some in the red and blue of the de Hollands, but still others wore black with a white rose...members of the Black Company.
The party pulled up to the roadway that led to the drawbridge of the castle and reined in.
“Who goes there?” the constable called down from the walls.
Jennet grinned softly and drew back her hood, her crown, understated though it was, glittering in the torchlight.
“Your Royal Highness!” the man exclaimed. “Drop the bridge, you flea bitten lot!” he cried out, and the sounds of metal chains dropping through metal and stone to release the bridge was the answering reply. The party rode in through the arched stone gatehouse, candles flickering through the halls in iron and glass cages to shield them from the wind casting a warm and welcoming light over the cobblestone path.
Jennet accepted a hand from a sandy haired Welsh lad with a crooked but bright grin and hopped down from the saddle with easy grace.
“Welcome home, Your Highness. Your rooms are ready and the cook informs me that supper will be served in the Great Hall at your leisure.”
“Excellent, Rhys,” the Princess replied, “thank you.”
She nodded at the young man's bow and watched his retreating back as he headed for the kitchens to deliver news of the Princess' arrival. The stars were out tonight and the sky was clear. She handed the reins of her equine companion to the stable lad and stopped to gaze a moment standing in the inner courtyard of the great sea fortress of Beaumaris Castle, taking in the smell of the sea and the grass beneath her feet. She breathed in deeply, closing her green eyes and savoring it a moment.
Finally, finally home.
_________________
Grand Mistress, Knights of Saint Michael|Knight of the Garter|Knight of the Crown|CoH|RHA|Deaconess of Holywell
Persephone glided into the harbor at Beaumaris slowly, the deckhands having risen with gentle taps to their shoulders by the Princess, who only smiled at them in forgiveness before returning to the helm. They stopped in the docking bay reserved for the Princess' own ship, sails unfurled in billows of white canvas with the royal arms emblazoned on them. She could hear the calls in the distance even as the plank was being lowered, calls from sailor to messenger, from messenger to constable, from constable to keep. All along the streets of Beaumaris town, word was being spread that the Regent of England had returned home.
She made one last check of the ship before disembarking, leaving the vessel in the capable hands of her first mate. The man bowed smartly and then began barking orders at the sailors who remained. Jennet smiled at the familiar scene and made her way down the plank, stepping solidly onto the docks and accepting a grey woolen cloak lined with red fox fur from her lady in waiting. The night air bit through all but the thickest material, swirling off the wavy sea. She tossed the cloak over her shoulders and fastened the silver clasp at her neck. The hood fit snugly over her head, obscuring her features even as she grasped the reins of her white mare and climbed into the saddle. Whether it was horse or waves, it seemed the Regent was always traveling these days and she laughed at how for more than two months her feet had barely touched the ground.
The large traveling party took off with all haste, hooves pounding up the sea coast of the beautiful island, thundering into the night. Beaumaris Castle loomed in the distance, commanding the countryside. Waves rushed in and out of the moat that had been dug around the castle with the tide, belying its connection directly to the sea. The flags of the de Holland family and of the lady that now owned this magnificent castle fluttered softly in the breeze. The very walls seemed to breathe in and out with the rhythm of the life that lived within. Beaumaris had a soul, and it was in harmony with that of the lady who now called Anglesey home. Grey stone towers rose four stories into the sky, topped with battlements and the men at arms who patrolled here. Some were dressed in the red and silver livery of their lady, some in the red and blue of the de Hollands, but still others wore black with a white rose...members of the Black Company.
The party pulled up to the roadway that led to the drawbridge of the castle and reined in.
“Who goes there?” the constable called down from the walls.
Jennet grinned softly and drew back her hood, her crown, understated though it was, glittering in the torchlight.
“Your Royal Highness!” the man exclaimed. “Drop the bridge, you flea bitten lot!” he cried out, and the sounds of metal chains dropping through metal and stone to release the bridge was the answering reply. The party rode in through the arched stone gatehouse, candles flickering through the halls in iron and glass cages to shield them from the wind casting a warm and welcoming light over the cobblestone path.
Jennet accepted a hand from a sandy haired Welsh lad with a crooked but bright grin and hopped down from the saddle with easy grace.
“Welcome home, Your Highness. Your rooms are ready and the cook informs me that supper will be served in the Great Hall at your leisure.”
“Excellent, Rhys,” the Princess replied, “thank you.”
She nodded at the young man's bow and watched his retreating back as he headed for the kitchens to deliver news of the Princess' arrival. The stars were out tonight and the sky was clear. She handed the reins of her equine companion to the stable lad and stopped to gaze a moment standing in the inner courtyard of the great sea fortress of Beaumaris Castle, taking in the smell of the sea and the grass beneath her feet. She breathed in deeply, closing her green eyes and savoring it a moment.
Finally, finally home.
_________________
Grand Mistress, Knights of Saint Michael|Knight of the Garter|Knight of the Crown|CoH|RHA|Deaconess of Holywell
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