Hiding a Leaf in the Woods [Kolath & Confrazzled]

[Confrazzled]

This was a scenario the Princess Selwynn had been drilled on often enough, to scurry down the servantsâ?? passageways and into the stable, and to mount one of the servantsâ?? horses, the ubiquitous sort that could pass as a peasantâ??s stock. To snatch the hidden pre-packed bag, filled with the sorts of things she would need. She had counted on this. But now, confronted with the wan light of the grey predawn painting itself across the horizon, and seeping in through the narrow niche of her paneless tower window . . . it all felt so achingly real, and rather like . . . confronting distant mists for the first time, and recognising how bone-chillingly cold those downy-looking swirls were.

Mists. Mists were well-suited to the nondescript charcoal-grey cloak laid out on the bed, unfurled from the little bundle that had been delivered. Rough-woven and woollen as it was, it likely kept the dampness at bay very well indeed. A wise choice for a travellerâ??s cloak, or a burgherâ??s. An impoverished burgherâ??s. An impoverished male burgherâ??s.

Selwynn sighed. If ever a time there was for dalliance, this was not it. Not when time slipped past so preciously, and the mere passage of a quarter of an hour might mean the difference between safety and discovery. She couldnâ??t procrastinate any longer, for such a futile, bizarre reason as wishing to clasp fast to this last moment attired in proper womanâ??s dress. Even if it were merely a linen night dress, trimmed with satin rosettes, and not some exquisite silk brocade ballgown. From here on it would be britches and tunics, breastbindings, belts and boots, cloaks and . . . whatever else burghers wore.

Reluctantly the young woman peeled away the gown. Usually an attendant would aid her in such, but today was far from usual. She laid it in a rumpled heap atop of her posted bed, then donned the strangely coarse undergarments, and bound the breastbinder at tight as she could manage about her chest, flattening her moderately modest bosom nearly entirely. Over this she donned the green-dyed tunic, and drew up the leather britches, belting the ensemble about her hips and leaving a simple but sturdy dirk to hang from it. Her brassy-brown waves of hair Selwynn simply released from its sleep-braid, and bound messily with a leather thong in a queue. She knew that tucked in the saddle bags were a pair of shears which would need to be employed in the matter but . . . that would require assistance, and would leave evidence that none wished in the castle. Tossing the cloak over the entire serviceable outfit and fastening the tin clasp, Imogene could have been any anonymous traveller.

And would be, so soon as her escort arrived. One sole escort to provide protection from three powerful families . . . it seemed so little. But Selwynn and indeed all of those loyal to the King of Saxony had already witnessed the damage that a single assassin could wreak. So why not a single, underestimated knight?

Why not, indeed. Selwynn paced across the flagstone, awaiting his arrival.

 

[Kolath]

Soft grey predawn light was already filling the courtyard and man in simple grey cloak drifted silently into the stables. He had been up for hours being sure that there were no enemies about to observe their passage. His hand slipped to the sword at his side as the hay rustled softly in one of the stalls. Moving silently two the stall side wall he peered over it finding the young stable boy comfortably asleep though from the way he was moving he would awake before long.

Slipping silently across to the wall that the stable shared with the castle the figure pressed a series of stones that seemed to be nothing of interest, till the wall silently pulled back and moved to the side allowing him passage. There were many such passages throughout the castle and he was one of the few non-royal family that knew of them. The hinges and bolts of all the passage door were always well cared for to prevent them from rusting shut or from making too much noise.

This passages was put in place for the princess alone for just this situation. The long winding stair was designed to remove any disadvantage for the person fighting on the lower stairs as her protector might have to hold back any enemies while the princess fled. The door slid silently shut behind him the seams lining up perfectly to prevent any but the most talented master of secret door from finding it.

He hurried up the stair his soft leather boots making no sound as he climbed. With the turn of the lamp at the top of the stairs another door opened sliding the back of her fireplace to the side and moving the burning logs in their holder also. He slipped through dropping to one knee before her his hood thrown back so she would see his face and not think he was the very person that she was trying to hide from. Taking her hand gently he kissed the ring baring her family crest softly. â??Sir Fryan of the shadow at your service my lady,â? he stood slowly lifting her hand up with him her ring in plain view, The ring was to be left for her parents to send to her once it was safe for her to return. â??If I may mylady?â? he slowly started to remove her ring, taking with it her rank and the last mark of who she was.

 

[Confrazzled]

â??I am ready,â? Selwynn nodded, the hood of her cloak falling even further forward as she ducked through the low passage door, set behind a tapestry as it was. In her hand she held a leather thong, strung with her personal signet ring. The other items she had gatheredâ??and those were few enough, for the princess tried to be rather practical about the sentimentality of it allâ??she had stowed away in various pockets. But this . . . this would like as not be needed to prove her identity, eventually. More delicate and lighter than the ring emblazoned with her family's crest, the signet ring she would need to sew into a hem, or tuck into a nook of wherever-they-were-bound, but for now she simply tossed the thong about her neck and turned away from the waiting knight as she shoved it between what would have been her breasts, were they not flattened.

She could not stand to take a last glance at the chambers that had housed her since her advent from the nursery, at the expensive brocade of the bedcurtains, nor the lush luxuries, the familiar and carefully-wrought tapestries, the ornately-carved armoire and furniture, the gold and silver trinketry, and even the large mirror which had been imported at great expense. So she winced her eyes closed as she stepped outside towards the knight, easing the door closed behind her.

If he was a knight at all now, truly, Selwynn thought as she fell into step behind him in the unlit stone corridor. For the brief moment that heâ??d been bathed in that grey pre-light, heâ??d seemed as any peasant might. His posture seemed so much less . . . formal, and regal. Lacking in confidence. But perhaps that was merely Selwynnâ??s own fears, reflected upon him as her face reflected in the mirror.

He was knight enough. She recognised his face, though the selection had been somewhat of a surprise. Sheâ??d expected Gwydion, her sole remaining personal guard to accompany her, but . . . the king had deemed that far too suspicious. Too many knew Gwydionâ??s distinctively scarred and weathered face. But this knight, this . . . Sir Fryan, he had said? She marked well the face, but not the name? But she truly could not be certain . . . he had fared well enough at the tournaments, and was reputed to be dutiful, always prompt. At least, that was what her loyal old Nurse reported. And Selwynn had no cause to dismiss that.

â??Well met, brother,â? she grinned implicitly, trying to infuse some little humour into the situation.

 

[Kolath]

He slipped her family crest onto another leather thong and hung it on the lamp inside the tunnel closing the passage as he did. There was a reason he had been chosen for this mission though he doubted she would know it. His honor had been disgraced not for any legitimate reason, instead merely for a higher born knight. Fryan had willingly taken the disgrace because it meant that the kingdom would not be split by civil war as the other knight commanded a large army. The king had begged him to take the disgrace and promised he would still be known to those that mattered as a honorable man even more so now for having been willing to do this.

Fryan shook his head at the princessâ?? joke and lightly punched her in the arm as he would his brother, â??You and your jokes.â? He started down the stairs turning a slightly sorrowful look on his face as he held out his hand to her, â??Come my lady, this stair leads to a new life for both of us, let us face it together,â? he paused, having to get used to no longer calling â??my ladyâ?? from now on it would be, â??Brother,â? he said smiling and looking into her eyes.

 

[Confrazzled]

â??I suspect that there shall be rather more of them, than you are accustomed to,â? Selwynn replied, dimpling a little with the humour of it. â??Brother indeed,â? she stated before bending low to heft up her concealed saddlebags, and entering into the stable. The nag that she wished for was easy enough to spot. Commonly homely but uncommonly fast, her father had marked the grey-dappled beast for her, days prior, and she slung the saddle over its awkwardly-high back. Her own sleek bay hunting mare whickered after her, and Selwynn felt a twinge of pain. But the bay was a princessâ?? horse, and Selwynn . . . for a time, at least, would no longer be a princess. She ignored its entreaties as a hyperalert stableboy, certainly no older than fourteen, delivered the bent-willow cage containing, hooded, her favourite sparrowhawk, and cinched the worn saddle about the girth of the homely horse.

In a few more efficient moments, all was done, ready. And so needed she be. â??Your princess thanks you,â? Selwynn murmured, probably uttering the phrase for a last time in a long while, accepting one-handed the hawk, and seizing otherhanded the reins of her horse. The packed saddlebags were slung over his saddle already, so she briskly walked out of the stable and into the square, to find her already-waiting guardsman. Brother. Fryan.

 

[Kolath]

Fryan had grabbed his saddle bags also tossing them over his shoulder. Then stepping to another wall he opened it and removed the weapons that had been prepared for this time. Taking the rough bow and quiver of arrows he also took the two rough iron swords from their brackets along with the scabbards and belts for them. Taking off his own fine blade he softly kissed the hilt and then hung it on the bracket one of the other had just vacated. â??I will return for you old friend,â? and finally taking the pouch of money he sealed the door. Quickly preparing turning to his horse he pulled the saddle down tighter in case they needed to make a quick getaway and checked the rest of the equipment. It was all satisfactory and so he led his bay gelding out to the courtyard and waited for the princess.

She wasnâ??t long in coming out and taking the hawkâ??s cage from her he allowed her to mount before tying the cage to the back of her saddle and swinging up into his own. The sun was just peaking over the mountains in the east as the two â??brothersâ?? began their journey to the north. Not knowing how close they had come to not escaping detection for barely thirty minutes after they had left the assassins struck, only to find their quarry fled and it cost nearly all of them their lives, nearly but two escaped to continue the search. Even now the princess was not totally safe.

 

[Confrazzled]

Wending through the streets of the capital itself, their pace had been slowed, almost leisurely, though the peasant impostors tried to maintain a brisker pace, as if they had some sort of business. Beyond the city though, once the crowds had thinned on the northwest road, they burst their horses into a rollicking catering gallop. The rhythm of the gawky grey, lurching as it was, left Selwynn hankering for the smoother seat of her steady hunting mare.

Especially by the time that they drew aside from the path, into a little clearing by a quietly-babbling brook. However, it was as good a time to water their mounts and break for the midday meal as any. Even though she was accustomed to riding long hours, hunting, and could keep her seat among the best of them, the beastâ??s odd gait had her using muscles sheâ??d long forgotten about, and set them stiff. Selwynn slid from her saddle, holding her horseâ??s reins with one hand and rubbing the other hand distractedly along the inside of her britcheted thigh. â??Ah!â? she winced. â??Not quite what I had envisioned. I guess I am rather softer than I anticipated.â? The horse lowered its head, starting to drink sloppily from the icy brook.

 

[Kolath]

The bay that he was on was no less lurchy but being used to the hardships of riding a horse in battle it didnâ??t faze him much. In truth the only reason he had taken them to stop at the side of the road was because of the obvious pain the crossed the princess face each time the grey took a step. Even if she was pretending to be his brother there was still a part of him, a part that would need to be retrained, that recognized her as the princess.

He loosened the horseâ??s girth and then broke out the hardtack rations holding one out to her. â??Here brother, its not very appetizing but it is some of the best food for on the road.â? He grabbed the water skin taking a quick drink to ease his parched mouth before handing it to her. â??Go slowlyâ?¦or it will come back up.â? He smiled and then sat right next to her one hand clapping down on her shoulder. â??Now brother lets take a look at those legs, I warned you riding could be hard on you the first few times.â?

 

[Confrazzled]

â??I ride finely enough in the hunt,â? she glowered in hushed tones, more frustrated with her own lack of stamina than directing the anger at the knight, in particular. â??I am not exactly the softest, lily-handed . . .â? But she caught herself, halting the flow of words and pursing her lips to a grim line, â??brother, ay?â? she tried slipping into a little of the cruder dialect she had overheard among the stableboys and ostlers, a time or two. The rhythms felt foreign upon her tongue, and were quite laughable, really. So Selwynn offered a friendly smile to the knight, grey eyes dancing merrily at the little joke. â??Though I suppose we have no few steps to take before we succeed, and this business of brothers becomes solidified, yes? I mean, â??ayâ???â?

She stretched out her legs, parallel as they ran to this segment of the winding brook, and allowed her â??older brotherâ?? to examine them. Flushed, and swiftly suppressed it, for protocol and schooling screamed that this was no way to regard a lady, clad in skin-skimming, tailored britches as she was, let alone a princess. But Sir Fryan was a knight; honour bound to his duty, and her care was his duty, so Selwynn quickly overruled this qualm, drowning it in a brief gulp of water from the skin before lowering it. â??I should be calling you by something other than â??Sir Fryanâ??, for one. And for another, â??Selwynnâ?? should hardly suffice for myself. Though I suspect that we should select something similar, with a familiar root, else I may not mark my new name.â? She paused, raising a finger contemplatively to tap against her somewhat squared chin. â??For another, the shears still lie in the crux of the saddlebags. And without my cloak, I shall hardly pass. Too many suspicions, once folk are seeking.â? Selwynn half-lamented to bring such a thing up so early in the day, but the fewer saw her as she was, the fewer questions would arise, could arise. And the more difficult it would be to track the pair, on witnessings alone. Might as well address it now, as she always understood, since the planâ??s conception, that she would need to. â??My dialogue, I expect, shall take a great deal more study, ay?â? she smiled again, meeting her knightâ??s eyes once more to lighten the mood.

 

[Kolath]

Fryan started to stretch out her legs helping her muscles relax and stop being sore for now though it would take a few days of riding before she was no longer in pain. As she started to talk about their names he paused for a moment in his stretching before he sighed and continued. â??I donâ??t need to change my name, myâ?¦â? he stopped himself smiling at her. â??Brother. My name hasnâ??t been in the roster of knights for over five years.â?

He went over to the sack pulling out the sheers and moving behind her. Pulling her long hair out of the back of her shirt he started to braid it as he continued. â??I was disgraced and my name was removed.â? Her knowledge of chivalry would be more than enough to know that for a knight to be disgraced took a major breach of the rules that knights lived by. In fact there should be no reason that he would be the one her parents chose to have him be her guardian. He knew that by telling her this it would spark many questions and so he fell silent and continued to braid her hair.

 

[Confrazzled]

But at this moment, the thing that seemed strangest to the princess was that a knight would know how to braid just as effectively as any ladyâ??s maid. â??It would seem that I am not the only one who needs to affect their dialect,â? she teased again, at his slight slip-up. This rhythm of dialogue, her none-too-harsh teasings were starting to flow more naturally, it felt. But yet so much of the experience felt surreal to her. For instance, in the castle, this familiar banter between knight and princess would never have been tolerated. Perchance with a high-ranking noble, yes, or mayhaps a lady-in-waiting, but never, certainly ever, a knight. â??I shall be your brother Selkirk. It suits fair enough, does it not?â? she tilted her head, trying to grin up at him, but in the process succeeded in slackening the slow-growing brassy-brown plait sprouting at the back of her head.

Perhaps not too useful an aid. She shifted her chin straight ahead, firmly facing forwards once more. â??And Merely Fryan you shall be, then. Regardless of whether or not you truly are, through fault of your own.â? Her words were vague, deliberately so, for Selwynn had not spent so many years among mostly-navigable court politics to be entirely incompetent. She was thoroughly capable of expressing an interest, while not spooking him from the topic entirely. Merely keeping it as an open bookâ??s chapter. Though her grey eyes held untold volumes of curiosity.

 

[Kolath]

He couldnâ??t suppress a chuckle as she said that so diplomatically. She was born to be a princess he could clearly see that in her every action. He tightened the braid back down then finished it. â??Now then to make sure the evidence is gone.â? He stood and held his hand out to her, â??Come on brother we need to get some fire wood we canâ??t have anyone thinking youâ??re a girl with that hair. It was then that he turned into the woods at the side of the road waiting for her to join him he spoke over his shoulder to her. â??It wasnâ??t my fault but I excepted it for the good of the kingdom.â?

 

[Confrazzled]

Would not the stream whisk it away swift enough? Selwynn opened her mouth to ask, but then shut it rapidly enough. That would leave a trace, several thousand traces actually, were anyone to follow their trail, and track them even thusfar. And were even a single hair plucked up, then it would be simple enough for a sorcerer to cast a spell of location . . .

Instead she trailed along after Fryan, bending low to pluck up the occasional scrap of dried kindling. â??Cannotâ??canâ??tâ??have that indeed,â? she corrected herself, wishing for distraction from the topic, the impending action. So drawn out, with that braid still flapping at her back familiarly, she simply wished to have it over with and irrevocable. â??The good of the kingdom?â? she asked, bracing a foot to yank a branch from a dried, tumbled-over spruce sapling. She gritted her teeth and pressed her booted toes forwards, hearing the satisfying CRACK! as it came away in her hands. â??How could tarnishing the reputation of an innocent knight possibly be a benefit to the kingdom? Hypothetically speaking of course, brother,â? she shot a grin towards him. And again, she had not voiced a direct question. Her knight could elabourate as much as he felt comfortable, or simply skim the topic, if preferred.

 

[Kolath]

Fryan had pulled out a small hand axe from his bag and was currently busily cleaning the top from a fallen ash tree. As she pursued the line of questioning he sighed looking down for a moment. It had been for the good of the kingdom; always he had to remind himself of that fact. Even now after five years he still struggled with thinking it wasnâ??t. Picking a small pile of medium size branches he nodded toward the camp, â??We have enough now brother we had best get back.â? He turned quickly toward the camp as he felt the look of emotional pain twisting his face at the memory of when he lost his title.

As they made it back he quickly set to making the fire arranging the wood in a orderly fashion and then striking flint to steel to light the tinder. A flame started small at first but quickly starting to take to the wood. As they waited for the fire to grow Fryan merely sat there watching it before he spoke. â??Hypothetically, brother? There would need to have been a noble that accused the knight of a serious offense and that noble would have to have been powerful enough, and threatened too, start a civil war if the king didnâ??t disgrace the knight.â? He fell silent his jaw tightening as his eyes never left the fire.

 

[Confrazzled]

Selwynn-soon-to-be-Selkirk let the kindling tumble from her arms, clattering into a erratic pile beside Fryanâ??s orderly fire. A baby-fire yet, with its tongues of flame only lapping lightly at the wood, tentatively streaking them with charcoal scorches. The princess settled reluctantly beside the knight, like an anxious, untamed sparrow, for her stomach knotted on itself for all that she willed it otherwise. Though she hid this, continued with her conversational overtures. Sir Fryanâ??brother Fryan, she corrected mentallyâ??seemed just as uncomfortable, for his own reasons. And the princessâ?? curiousity simply would not be satiated until she well understood just what those were. If, of course, he would permit.

Selwynn dropped all of the country pretense of her near-pretended accent. â??And just what motive, hypothetically, would such an ignoble noble have to incite such a horrid tarnishment?â? Perhaps, perhaps this question might graze a nerve. And yet . . . his statement left it open, begged to be asked. She bit her lip. "You need not answer, if . . ."

 

[Kolath]

Fryan looked down into the fire adding a bit of fuel to help it grow as he just let the silence reign. He slipped behind her making sure her braid was tight before taking the sheers. He slowly cut through the thick braid and because of it being bound together there would be little pulling. â??Never mind that Brother there is nothing that anyone can do about it now.â? His voice took on a wistful tone as he tossed the hair into the fire. â??Not even the king can change it now.â? The gentle acrid smell of hair burning wafted up from the fire mixing in the air before disappearing. Fryan the once honored knight stood staring into the fire his eyes speaking of much pain that he was hiding.


(sorry about its length.)

 

[Confrazzled]

And there it was. Shorn off and thudded against the logs of the fire, where it coiled and sizzled. Irrevocable, now. The transformation was complete. Selwynâ??s breath came a bit ragged; she couldnâ??t quite place a finger upon why. Or else, she refused to.

It took a few moments for her to compose words effectively, once more. The leaves of the trees shivered in that time, the wind stirring from them silvering whispers, but this gossip would reach no human ears, these observers would spread these tales to naught but dryads. â??I find it difficult to comprehend that my faâ??our good king could not restore the reputation of such a knight. Perhaps it might come at a high cost, but . . . could he not be issued some sort of writ?â? mused the princess, â??and sent to a foreign court? Ambassadorially, perhaps. There, at least, his honour would be respected.â? She turned her head to offer a slightly-diluted smile, tossing her novel hair in the process, shaking it loose from the lingering bit of braid. It was choppy yet, more uneven than even a peasant would wear it dressed. â??Do I make a fair to fitting enough baker, Fryan?â?

((Kinda awkward, and a bit short, sorry, taking a while to get into the swing of it again.))

 

[Kolath]

Fryan sighed looking down at her before sitting beside his now brother nodding at the last question. â??Aye that you do.â? His eyes glossed over a bit as he thought about the remainder of her questions trying to put it into words that would mean something to someone other than a knight. â??Aye Brother the king could have just restored the knightâ??s title but it wouldnâ??t have been best. You see the noble was powerful enough to have potentially seized the kingdom over it and was going to till the knight offered to sacrifice his honor for the kingdom. In truth the noble man was merely looking for a excuse to start a war and Iâ?¦that knight would refuse to give it to him. Also the knight was now able to serve the king in ways that he would not have been able to had he not been dishonored.â?

Fryan broke out the hard tack rations and breaking a chunk of it off for both of them he handed one to his charge. â??Best to eat when you can seeing as this fire will alert others for miles around that someone was here. We will need to be moving on soon.â?