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Knight and Day (Violetrose and Campion

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Campion

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Joined
Mar 11, 2015
Location
Eastern US
Sir Roland had the mare at a trot. He was almost there. The house of his fiancee was just ahead. Her written words to him of what she would do to his body when she saw him had him boiling.

For three years he had battled in distant lands and touched no woman, though he had seen things that would have scandalized his provincial associates, and had changed his views on much. Only his Percheron mare, Engage, had kept him warm at nights, for he taken vow of chastity until marriage. That very vow had saved him in several ways. He had avoided the pestilent diseases of the cities by avoiding physical contact, and the lustful diseases as well. Additionally, his reputation for not touching the wives and daughters of the enemy had gained him respect, as he’d also let it be known that any man under his command who took an unwilling woman would be marrying her if she chose, after that man felt the lash for his disobedience and vile behavior.
It had been noted that when assassins stalked the other lords and commanders that he remained unattempted. Some nasty rumors of aiding the enemy had surfaced, but the Duke had quashed them most quickly. “If you louts are unable to keep your bollocks in your britches, don’t be surprised if you offend someone with the ability to do you ill. Roland has honor. For all the vile heresies of the enemy, bravery and an understanding of honor they have in spades.”
The Duke had been far less thrilled with Roland’s interest in things of science, worrying about witchcraft. Roland saw no reason why any tool should not be used to profit. So it was he who had convinced the Duke to change direction when lost in the desert, pledging his life if he were wrong. The star chart and lodestone which he had purchased allowed their arrival in time to save a Christian City, surprising the enemy from the rear, and the grateful Duke had granted him a fief on the spot, entitling the young Lieutenant with a Barony, and breveting him to Captain. The requirement that he wed a lady of the kingdom troubled him not a bit. He was affianced to such, and the three month limit after his return should be easy to manage.

Then had come Jerusalem…and not even the city proper. It had been a small burgh nearby. He was overseeing the ordered taking of the town when a local woman ran to him. “Lord Knight, if your honor is intact, then save the children. The fire has spread from the barracks you lit to the houses!”
He had trotted after her, to see that the fire had reached private homes. Wetting his cloak in a horse trough, he had run in, and found only a poor small girl cowering in a far corner. with his cloak, he enwrapped her and raced through the building flames to leave the building. But the wind had shifted and he had to go another way. He'd neglected to wear a padded cloth shirt under his chain mail and now the searing metal bore into his skin like a hot ingot in ice.

Valiantly ignoring the pain, he threw himself through a window, where the child's mother took her, and he knew no more.
When he awoke, the mother of the child was tending to his wounds. His family crest, the wild dragon, had been engraved on a bronze plate in the center of his scale armor. Now that wolf’s head was burned forever across most of his chest.
The woman, named Gamina, was daughter of a learned apothecary, and together they had kept the infection from him and the swelling down. While abed, he learned so much of his adversaries that no one had bothered to learn ere now. As he exited their home forty days later, it was a much changed young man who braided his hair back and resumed the command of his troops.
He had won in battle after battle, even against overwhelming odds, refusing to cover his chest, using a shield instead. He became known for ignoring the levy soldiers and singling out noble opponents for single combat. It was a new strategy and it worked. He ransomed those he defeated, taking their wealth and their right to fight and sending them home.
When he unknowingly took the son of the Sultan, his saddlebags creaked with concealed gems from the ransom.
But for all his honor, dark tales grew. “He has aligned with the spirit of the dragon, and is cursed! Why else would the Lord have branded him so.” And so the tales spread.
When he entered a surrounded enemy citadel alone to parley, then led them peacefully out with their arms yielded, it was not the reputation of his honor, which the enemy had yielded to, which his own side carried word of. Instead it was said that he had ensorcelled them and he grew even more apart from his own.
His mind returned to the present. He had not even visited his parent’s estate, but come straight to her house. If nothing else, she represented stability.
Roland and Magdalena had never been in love. They were entirely unlike in temperament and he honestly considered her shrewish. But their parents wished to combined the fortune of both their houses and he was a dutiful son. He was now twenty-five, and she would be twenty. He rather hoped her skinny willowy frame would have gained a few pounds. Getting children with her might not be a joyful experience, but he looked forward to being a father. And running a Barony would keep them both busy, so they need not spend much time together.

Here was the house, but she was not out, as he waited, with twenty of his men mounted behind him, his impatience grew. Finally, he rode in, breaking through the locked front door to the courtyard, he called to the house. “Magdalena! Your betrothed returns from battle! Come forth to greet me as is proper.”


A stammering house servant came out and spoke softly and stammeringly to him, explaining that the family was shamed that she had run off months ago with a tailor. “Please g-good Knight?” His dark reputation had come even to here. “Won’t you wait in the g-garden, whilst I bring one of the family to meet you?”

Infuriated, Roland almost struck the man, but he couldn’t…he was a knight and had to set an example even now. Granted, he had not loved her…but…he would lose the Barony, and the personal insult was so grave…how could he live it down? Then there was the matter of the large bride price his family had paid. They had, when he had left, been of smaller title, and so had paid handsomely for the right to Magdelena, and an opportunity to marry up. He deserved at least that back to salve his honor… but the manor looked run down. Not like when he left. Had they fallen on hard times?

Agitated, he waited in the garden, pacing back and forth. But it was not her father who approached him, it was her younger sister Abigail. A woman whose sweet round curves he had always admired, though she had been too young for him and the older sister gained precedence. She was calmer of voice than her sister and beloved of her servants. How he wished his parents had made the match with her. Then an idea of how to solve this started to circle in his brain and he began to smirk. He'd need to act very angry though.

As she entered, so too came in his Sergeant. "Apologies Sir, but there is news from the men you sent to your house. Your parents are dead...for over a year.

Stunned, he sank into a chair. It was all too much...first Magdelena, now this!"
 
Abigail heard the commotion outside the main door. A servant confirmed her suspistion. It was Sir Roland returning home from the crusades. Quickly she ordered the servant outside to inform him of the recent events and to escort him to the garden.

Over the last two years, rumors of how he had changed and become a rather dark man had ventured back to his homestead. Many of the families were worried and afraid of the day he would return, especially Abigail's. At the fault of her older sister, they were shameful and hung their heads in dishonor for she had broken the promise of marriage that their father arranged. Unwilling to wait for her betrothed to return home, she ran off with another suitor.

After Magdalena's shameful act, the family struggled. Abigail's father had passed away of an illness. An illness the doctors could not describe or cure. Her mother sold half of the house staff in order to maintain the look and financial aspects of the middle class. Even though the middle class position was only given to them due to the high price Roland's family had paid for the promised bride.

Abigail's heart clenched with the fear of having to confront him just outside in the garden. Quickly checking herself in a mirror just outside the foyer entrance in the main room, she smoothed out the pale orange dress she was wearing. Her long red locks braided and positioned on the front of her right shoulder. Abigail's emerald green eyes showed fear and nervousness as she appeared in the garden, a man following swiftly behind her. Unlike Magdalena's slender and small body, Abigail was heavier. Her frame often reminded herself of an hour glass.

The garden was colorful, flowers of every shade lined the walkways. Arch ways covered in vines and roses led the way to the center patio. Wicker chairs and tables were set up. Hearing the news he had just received and watching him slink down into a chair, her 5'4 stature knelt down beside him. "My regards Sir." she spoke softly and as caring as possible. "Your parents were loved by all in the area." she stated watching the other crusader walk away. "Is there anything I can get you to eat or drink?" As the question escaped her lips, a small servant girl her age appeared in the near by arch way awaiting instruction.

Once he had answered, and the servant walked away, she stood. "I apologize, but my father as well passed away a few years ago and my mother is in no state to deal with the re-precautions of Magdalena's actions."
 
When she came out, his throat caught and he could say nothing. Little Abby had grown into quite the woman. Assured in the midst of turmoil, he joined with her in ignoring the squalid state of her family's estate. He could walk away from this...ask the Duke to arrange another marriage.

Instead, he gave a slight grin and moved to embrace her. "Really...Abby! Is this how one greets those nigh as close as family? Have you any doubts that should any cast aspersions upon my desire to see you in good straits? Granted...your father cast a poor bargain with Magde...but she is out of the picture. All that is needed to restore my honor...and your parent's estate, is your agreement to be my wife. I am not so pure as I was, but I can still make you happy, I think...

His Sergeant had overpowered the chamberlain, to learn that the household owed roughly twice what it was worth. The man came and whispered in roland's ear and he nodded.

"Abigail...I don't want anyone to think that somehow I am settling for second best. You are three times the woman your sister ever will be...so I will forgive the 80,000lbs that I put up for the brideprice...and I will offer an additionally 165,000lbs for your hand. Understand me, I do not expect to BUY you, but I hope that this token of my esteem will assauge your worries for your mother and the hands of the estate. Your family is good and they deserve better than this."

"Whatever your answer..." Here his voice caught. "M-my parents...Oh my Lord...they are gone and I never got to say goodbye! Sergeant! Get out of here!" The Sergeant wisely fled and as the mighty, dark draconic Baron Roland began to cry and he held her waist as he pressed his face to her tummy, sobbing without cease.
 
The embrace startled Abigail, but only momentarily. Smiling she returned the embrace with a smile, glad a friend had returned home. The rumors began to subside within her thoughts as Roland spoke to her.

The proposition stunned her, took her a few moments to realize what he was offering. "You want me to take my sisters place in marriage?" she questioned trying to calculate everything he was saying. It was true, she was the better of the two when it came to her sister and most knew that. The amount of money he was offering would cover the costs of bringing her families estate back to its original beauty, original pristine condition. How can I tell this man no, especially after everything my sister has done, and everything that he will be dealing with now that he has returned. she thought to herself.

Drawn from her own thoughts to see his forehead buried against her stomach she sighed. The loss of his parents would be the biggest hurdle he would have to face before facing the town and their newfound opinions. "Roland, your parents were happy knowing that you were doing what you wanted. Fighting for all of us here." Placing her hands on the sides of his face she caressed his cheeks. "Perhaps you should travel to the estate. See what the condition is and how the staff are before asking my hand. You may need that money to refine your parents home." she stated as she motioned to the servant.

The servant quickly vanished and returned shortly with beverages and food. Placing them on the wicker table she awaited for the order to pour the drinks and serve the food. "Roland, lets eat and catch up...then you shall travel to your parents estate." Abigail was known for her purity, and her caring ways along with her intelligence and opinions.
 
He calmed at her words. She was right, he had to get his estate in order. There would be debts to pay and work to be done...but nothing else mattered if he laid not the groundwork for his remaining happiness.

He knew she was a woman of pride and duty, and she did not shrink from his touch. Well, he would cast out a loop and see if she caught it.

He wiped his face and realized just how grimy he was from the trail. Her pristine dress was smudged and ruined. "Oh...I'm so sorry, your dress...if only...I could get you fifty of them.

He stepped back, nodding. "You are gracious in your deferral of your refusal of me. You wish me to maintain my honor. Am I not right? I understand I think..." He slid up the sleeve of his surcoat, exposing the pattern of terrible scarring underneath. "Some think me no longer human as I must bear this burden of supposed shame upon my body. But Abby, knowing that I would not lie..ever. I did things for which I am ashamed...in war, one makes decisions that will accidentally ruins the lives of others who may be innocent...or murders them. But these scars were gained doing what I should be doing...protecting the helpless." Softly he told her the story of the fire and the young girl.

When the story had been told, he grimaced. "Mind you, I do not share that with only you to boast, but that you may better understand what I have been and what I wish to become. I am to be Baron." He let that sink in for a few seconds, before speaking again. "I must have a Baroness. The Duke requires it in his wisdom that I be wed, for he knows that the mind of a warrior oft seeks justice in place of mercy. The people deserve a gracious Baroness to temper my harsh hand, to be my conscience for their sake."

He gazed into her eyes for a long time. Any man but the Duke and anyone else to whom he'd done so would look away. But this was a look of a man seeking understanding and it was pleading where his voice could not.

"Abigail, I did not ask you to be my wife. I merely stated an advantageous arrangement. Now I will humble myself to show my true wish and hope. Abigail Trent..." He knelt before her. "I am a horribly scarred, angry, lost man who is given to poor judgement. But I am to be a Baron. I ask that you consider my request to you to be my wife and my Baroness. If you say yes, please accept this token of my wish for you."

From his belt pouch, which he opened before her, he extracted a bracelet of pearls, opals and sapphires, cunningly wrought in some metal that shone like silver, yet did not tarnish. He didn't hide the many other treasures in his pouch, but chose this one, offering to clasp it upon her arm.

"You are right that my parents estate needs my attention. But the people there need your attention much more than mine or it might go ill for all concerned."

He dropped his head, showing that he did had some humility, but inside he found that he could not consider a world where this sylph was not by his side.
 
Abigail was taken back as he revealed the scarring on his arm. Gasping, she covered her mouth lightly. It was true he had been marked. Listening to him tell her the story in which the scarring surfaced from, she felt slightly unstable as she continued listening to everything he said. Abigail was not rejecting his offer, but trying to determine herself the best way to handle it.

As he gazed into her eyes, she never looked away. Unlike the rumors she had heard, this man was different. This man was not the heartless monster everyone had made him out to be. To be baroness was a job that she was unsure she could fill. As he knelt down before her, her heart sank. Years ago she would only dream of this happening, fearing the day her sister would be the one to take his hand due to the age difference.

Taking a heavy sigh she allowed it to clasp around her wrist. The bracelet took her breath away, it was magnificent in so many ways, Abigail could not fathom what the price was, or where he had come about this token but as it lay on her wrist sparkling and shimmering against the sunlight she smiled. "Roland, stand up." she ordered.

"No tokens or treasure in the world would make me say yes, but the fact you asked would. I will journey with you at your side." she stated calmly. Now the only feat would be informing her mother. Shaking the thought from her mind, knowing that it would only bring joy upon her. "When do you wish to travel to your parents estate?" she questioned taking his hands.
 
Taking her hand in his, he kissed it. "I will thankfully and joyfully take you with me, but let us not depart without informing your family."
The Seneschal had been quietly observing the interplay from a distance and now hurried to Abigail's mother, having make herself presentable to receive them. He explained the situation, Roland's apparent wealth and the offer and acceptance of Abby to now be his bride. She quickly dressed in her one remaining court outfit and waited regally for them on the open air Dias adjoining her rooms.
As they approached hand in hand, Esmerelda smiled. "So, Sir Roland, do you return to us in our hour of need? It is grave that you return to learn of my eldest daughter's perfidy, and the loss of my dear friends, your parents."
She patted her lap, and Roland's following Sergeant blanched as he witnessed his dread lord and master kneel before this small frail woman and lay his head across her knees as she patted it like a fond puppy.
"Aunt Esme, you watched over me as a youth and kept me from too much trouble. Now I wish to return the favor. Dearest Abigail has consented to wed me, and out of respect, I must insist that you retain Magde's bride price. I wish to pay that amount thrice to recognize a pittance of the value that I ascribe to sweet Abby. My squire and clerk will see to handling any outstanding debts that you need not face such ruffians...that is so far beneath you. I hope to now be calling you Mother and look to the joining of our families in the midst of so many tragedies."
Her place of honor restored, Esmerelda smiled and fought to control both voice and tear ducts. "You naughty boy, I know you have been raising Hades abroad. But ever were you truthful. I'm glad that I'll be near to you as a mature influence."

The Sergeant made a pained sound as he bit his tongue in shock.
Roland stood and glared at him, then returned to Esme. "Mother of my heart, your words are always true. I will try to be a dutiful son. But please give us your leave to go, as my own estate needs my attention."

Esme rose and patted his hair again. "Then you have my leave, both to withdraw, and to marry my only faithful daughter, to become my dutiful son."

The Sergeant was smirking slightly when Roland turned. There seemed to be a russet glare in the Captain's eyes as his hand squeezed the Sergeant's shoulder so hard that tears brimmed at the man's eyes. "Do you laugh at this good lady or her words cur?"

The man was white-faced as he shook his hear and Roland snarled slightly as he walked past arm in arm with Abby.

Roland reduced on Abby and it was like hot lead drained from his soul. He chewed his lip and gazed at her, then turned. "Sergeant, It's been a trying day, forgive my anger."

The man's jaw actually dropped and he nodded shakily as they went to the livery to depart for Roland's estate.

Roland assisted her in mounting. "Do I disappoint you Abby?"
 
Abigail walked with him hand in hand to see her mother. Unsure of this would actually turn out, she kept quiet. Surprised by her appearance as they walked. Releasing Roland's hand so that he may kneel down beside her mother she stood to the side to admire the view. Esme always thought highly of Roland, even when the worst of the worst rumors made their way home.

Smiling at her mother as she gave the approval to withdraw, and tend to the matters than needed attending most. "Mother I will return soon, so ensure our estate is back in order." she looked past her mother to the frail servant girl. "Make sure word is gotten to me if anything is needed." As her attention returned to her mother she hugged and bid her farewell before lacing her arm around Roland's. As they walked out, she was caught off guard by his reaction to his Sergeant. Before she could speak up, the look on her face must have been enough for him to realize that she thought poorly of his actions.

Once outside, she accepted his help in mounting a mare that a servant had prepared for her on word. Gracefully sitting on the mare she turned and looked at Roland. "You do not disappoint me, you simply have changed. Change can go either way darling and its that I must get accustomed to."

Bidding farewell to her dearest servants she rode off beside Roland. Glancing back, with a soft sigh. "Dearest, how long shall the journey to your estate be?" she questioned as they began moving. Her estate fading into the horizon, she straightened her back and prepared herself for what ever ruins may lay ahead of her on her entry to Roland's estate.
 
He smiled at her as they began to ride. "Tis but an hour's journey. That will give us time to catch up more with one another. How is Briggy?" He whiled away the time asking after childhood friends. Most of the answers were not happy ones and he grew melancholy.

"So it seems that most of the promises of youth fall to the side. Do you remember when I vowed to always protect you Abby? I have never forgotten that vow, and I intend to keep it for you and your mother."

They were soon trotting up to his estate where some ruckus seemed to be underway. From behind the boarded front door where several men stood, a voice called. "Ye'll nay be taking the family manor an ransackin' it, Ye curs! When Sir Roland gets back, Ye'll be a sorry sight indeed!"

One of the men responded. "Now Archie, we have extended credit to the estate, but there is a limit. We have the right to collect from what may be sold."

Roland forgot that Abby was with him as he vaulted from his horse, sword drawn and his troops surrounded the men. He backed the speaker, a local butcher, against the wall with his sword before the man's face. "Did I just hear you say you have the right to take and sell my property? Without a constable or court making any sort of decree? Perhaps, for soiling my doorstep, I should take and sell your hands? How equitable would that be?"

Then his Sergeant harrumphed and he turned to see Abby. He released the man and took a large breath. "If any have debts needing repayment, they shall be repaid...in pure gold bullion and silver. Present a list of the charges to my clerk and return on the morrow when I will have converted some valuables to cash. Does anyone find this unreasonable?"

All the men shook their heads, and quickly left their lists with the clerk, practically running off.

In the meantime, there were wrenching sounds and the boards were pulled from the door. A very elderly man stepped out. "Heavens be praised, it's the young master himself, returned when all was dark."

Roland offered his hand. "Archie, stout loyal fellow...you've grown so thin. Where is everyone else."

"Some found other work, others stole and ran off when unpaid. I done what I could, my boy...but twer hard."

Roland nodded. "Go to those you trust and offer them their jobs back. Here is my signet, and some gold to convince people."

He turned to Abby and sighed. "Once again, my conscience does me proud. Clerk! Take one of the pouches and go to the market. Take six men with horses. Get all the foodstuffs and drinks to last a week or more."

Then he opened the door to the silent manor and stepped in. It seemed smaller. "Abby, please join me, I'm in need of you. This is all so much."
 
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