((Ok this is elsewhere, in a city in a faraway kingdom, read my character introduction.))
Benjaminrode through the crowded streets atop his fine, auburn steed, his head held high. He moved at a casual pace, returning friendly waves from the people each time he noticed. His long-blade bounced lazily on his thigh with each step of the horse. He was off to his home, returning from the Town Keep. There had been some trouble, a peasant who stole from a shopkeeper. The loss was minimal, but the shopkeeper seemed very furious. It had been a 3rd offense and his cousin was held up in the Capital on a visit with the royal court so his presence was required to rule over the trial. He ordered the peasant be detained for 3 weeks, seeing as it was a 3rd offense, a light charge as his cousin would have most likely sent him off for a beating by the town guard. The shopkeeper seemed satisfied, though, so all went well in Bejamin's opinion.
He was nearly home now, he could see it in the distance, on top of Muglin's Dike, an old hill on the edge of town. It was his father's home, a very large manor-house, built of stone and timber from Dramed's very own soil. Within its grounds were held small armory, servant's quarters, a stable and the Dramond fields. Benjamin spurred his horse a little faster, now anxious to be home.
***1 day later***
Benjamin sat in his study, at his desk, examining the town tax records and expenses he had requested. No no no, this will not do at all, we are receding! A knock on the door broke his concentration. He looked up from the books and said "Come in."
A young boy, Martin, one of the field hands, entered with an uncertain look on his face. "Milrod."
"What is it Martin, what brings you here when you should be home, resting for tomorrows work?" Said Benjamin sincerely.
"Well sah, its your cousin, he's returned from capital and will be at the west gate shortly. I thought you might want to know . . ."
"Of course, of course. Martin, would you fetch my horse, and also send me that page, Jacob." said Benjamin, closing the books and standing up.
"Y-yes milord, right away sire." Martin ran out the door, and his footsteps could be heard throughout the house as he headed towards the door. So my cousin has finally returned, I shall meet him then, and make sure all of the people realize how long he has been of at court. Benjamin walked out the door and towards his bedroom, through the dining room and down a well decorated hallway. As he began to change into his finest clothes there was a knock on the door. "Jacob is that you?"
A small voice answered, "Yes, milord."
As he pulled one leg into his tan pants, Benjamin said, "Ah good, listen I'd like you to head to the keep and tell Constable Richards to assemble a small greeting force at the west gate to wait for me."
"I'm already gone, milord." said Jacob eagerly. The lad was famous throughout Dramed as the fastest runner in the city. He was a good boy, waiting for a knight to take him on as squire, after he learned how to be a servant as Benjamin's page. Serving one of the king's knights would not be unlike serving a first-born son of nobility, as they are trained much in the same way as knights as one day they are expected to rule a parcel as lord and, in times of war, fight. Benjamin finished dressing himself and looked at himself in the mirror, perfecting his hair and fine tuning his dress, and finally strapping his sword on. "Yes, I am ready to meet my cousin."
Benjamin met the fieldhand Martin near the edge of the Dramond estate, at the gate, a horse in hand. The Dramond family owned several horses, but there was one Benjamin favored, an auburn steed with a black mane called Ulysses.
"Your horse sah." said Martin triumphantly, handing the reigns to his master, who promptly mounted and thanked the young man, and then took off at a speedy gallop towards the west gate where a crowd was gathering, anxious citizens waiting to see their lord. Not twenty minutes later Benjamin was trotting up to the west gate, where a large group of citizens gathered around a small formation of the town garrison. The city Dramen's walls were a formality, they had never seen any battle as any threat of hostile creatures or brigands were always dealt with far from the city. The walls were more of a separation point between the farmland and the city proper. Those who lived within were merchants and tradesmen, those who lived outside were men of the soil.
The crowd, probably 500 people in all, were nearly silent, small chatter here and there, like a low rumble of a coming earthquake, but they seemed to have gathered more out of obligation to their lord than out of excitement of his return. There was a small aisle formed around the gate itself, at the end of which was about 60 men-at-arms, arranged in a tight formation, at the front was the city constable, Richards, who wore his uniform proudly. The soldiers wore light leather clothing beneath a bright red and white tabard and iron helm. The constable, however, wore chain mail beneath his, and wore no helm, his features standing out. He had black hair and a goatee, with coarse pale skin and a well defined and muscular body. At his side was a fine broadsword, which his hand rested upon. Benjamin rode up to him and said, "How long do you suppose he shall take."
Richards looked up, smiled weakly and said, "Well he should have been here an hour ago, so he should be here soon."
Benjamin laughed heartily. "My cousin, Manuelle. . . a good man . . ."
"But not a good leader?" Richards wasn't smiling anymore.
Benjamin's smile faded as well. "Maybe not . . ."
A sudden commotion caught the entire crowds attention as a file of soldiers, pikes at the shoulder, marched into town, the flag of Keldrith and Dramed flying powerfully. A richly dressed officers rode forward, ahead of the formation as trumpets sounded. He spoke loudly and clearly with a tone of superiority and self-pride,
"Presenting his lordship Manuelle, with him comes the favor of the crown!"
There was a weak cheering from the crowd as through the formation rode up a finely dressed man, very large and muscular, as well as fat. He had a shaven face, though five'o'clock shadow was painfully obvious. He covered his curly hair under a fine feathered cap, and on his bridle was a golden clasp, glistening in the sun. He rode ahead of both his soldiers and his officer, right toward Benjamin, a smile spreading across his face.
He let out a deep and powerful laugh as he waved to his people, until finally reaching his cousin, saying, "Have I really been gone so long?"
"Cousin, things are never quite the same when your gone."
"Hahaha, you are always good for a laugh Benjamin!" Manuelle grabbed his cousin's hand and squeezed it.
Benjamin's half-hearted smile weakened a little, he had to say it now. "Cousin, I think we should talk." The troops advancing behind him were now closer than before and the constable began to order his men to march aside.
Manuelle's large smile faded completely for a moment, before it returned, larger than ever with a light laugh. "Dearest Benjamin, I have just now returned home! Allow me to collect myself at the keep, to check the city. Listen, meet me at Devil's dike tomorrow morning, we will go hunting, then we will talk."
Benjamin managed to grin, genuinely this time. "Yes, I suppose that would be for the best. I shall see you then Manuelle." The constable's troops were shifting formation to the rythmic 'hi ho hi ho' of the officers.
"Take care cousin." Benjamin turned his horse around and began to gallop back towards his manor, glancing back at his cousin as he took in the cheers of the crowd while his soldiers marched toward the keep. He looked like a fool.
Tue May 06, 2008 5:22 am
