A House Divided RPG

[Envinyatar]

Tarciryan had passed him a small pouch of coins, and Megilwë was glad of it. Silver loosened the tongue more readily than did the blade. Various reports of the run away cart had been told him, most accompanied by hair-raising and impossible tales of how the teller or someone he knew well had barely been able to escape being crushed beneath the wheels.

What he had gleaned from all these accounts was that just before the horses had panicked a number of nearby merchants had seen someone slip in to where the horses had been tethered. And it was in the confusion of those moments, when their attention was focused on gaining control of the horses, that somehow the cart had rolled down the hill, picking up speed as it hurtled toward the booth below.

Tarciryan listened in silence to his guard’s report. A few questions on details followed when Megilwë had finished; then, he dismissed him, thanking him for his information gathering. ‘Go to the palace guards’ quarters and clean up and get yourself something to eat. Once done, report directly back to me. You and Caeran will be Earnil’s personal guards now. Let Caeran know that I require this of him.’

^*^*^*^*^*^

It was a grim faced Gaeradan that listened to Tarciryan’s telling of the incident in the market place. ‘Too convenient,’ he said aloud, when the man had finished his recounting. ‘And yet how would anyone have known you and your family would be present at that particular time. Either it was simply an unfortunate happening, or the network of ill-wishers against this regime is larger than anticipated.’ He scratched the back of his neck, chasing a prickling sensation that had started during Tarciryan’s account of the incident and the findings of the guard. ‘I’m betting on the second to be true, unfortunately. Rumors have come to me – more merchandise coming in from the south.’ He clapped Tarciryan on the shoulder in a familiar manner. ‘Thank the stars your family came in early, and there was only a small window of opportunity to strike.’ He shook his head at his following thoughts. ‘I hate to think what was planned for your announced arrival day.’

^*^*^*^*^*^

‘Eärnil, I insist!’ Miriel was shaken by the near miss of the cart in the marketplace, and she was intent on keeping her son close to her side. They were at the moment engaged in a battle of wills about where he would be quartered.

‘Mother,’ returned Eärnil, quietly, his clear voice cutting through the rising hysteria of her demand. ‘I am in the King’s house now. I will be as safe as he is. There are plenty of guards to see to it. And look! Father has assigned the two guards who came with us to me. Megilwë has told me already that one of them will always be by my side.’ Miriel looked up to where Megilwë stood a few paces from her son. Her eyes flashed angrily at him, then relented as he bowed his head to her and stepped closer to his charge. ‘With my life, Lady Miriel,’ he said, bowing slightly to her.

Eärnil stood hands on hips, looking at her. There was a resoluteness in his countenance that she had seen before and over the years had watched grow. ‘So much like his father,’ she thought to herself. ‘He has made a decision for himself and will find a way to see it realized. Already my wishes are turned aside, though as gently as he can.’ She sighed mentally, then straightened her shoulders and addressed him. ‘Will there be a promise to me that you will not leave the sight of your guard?’ She looked closely at him as he considered her words. ‘If you cannot promise, then I am afraid I will have your Father intervene, Eärnil. And I will speak directly to the King, if need be.’

It was a small price to pay for a measure of independence, and after another moment of consideration, Eärnil acquiesced. Their business concluded, his perimeter drawn and established, Eärnil grinned widely at his mother and clasped her round the waist in a tight hug. ‘Oh, Mother,’ he said, sounding like her little boy once again, ‘Gaeradan told me he has a dog for me . . . that I might keep in my room. And he’s had shelves put up for my ships. I’ll be in the rooms right next to his, you know . . . oh, and I am to have lessons with the Master at Arms. And my Uncle . . . the King, I mean, will show me his new ships . . .’

Eärnil prattled on, his excitement at this new phase of his life evident in his voice and demeanor. Miriel listened attentively to him, a smile fixed on her face, and every so often she would glance up at Megilwë, wondering what comfort the loss of his life would bring her should she lose that of her son, too . . .

[ July 26, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]