by Cpt._Funkotron » Thu Oct 18, 2018 5:17 am
Like the riders of revelation, the knights barrel into the camp of Levcomagus, sowing confusion and panic wherever they trod. They have already found the ladies and begun to free them by the time the Praetor is able to rouse himself and assemble a force around him. While the squires cut the women's bonds and help them into saddles, the knights afoot carve a path to freedom. Persidius plunges himself into the enemy and lays low all he encounters. The others hold the line and make good progress under the direction of Elad. Meanwhile, Terwynn comes face to face with one of the sigil knights, whom she had two years previously defeated and ransomed. The encounter draws into a duel, and Terwynn finds herself isolated from the others. Fighting two at a time unaided, she is pierced once, and then pierced again, and bested, near death. It is only thanks to the confusion that her squire Diane is able to push through the throng and drag her to safety.
The raiding party makes clear of the camp, and the knights retake their mounts. From the looks of things as they ride away, a fire has started. Once they have put a sufficient amount of darkness between themselves and the host, they stop to treat the wounded. Miles rushes to Terwynn's aid, and although it looks as if she is bound for the shroud, the reaper is robbed of her soul yet again. She is still in critical condition, and it may be some weeks before she is returned to her senses.
They return to camp before dawn. Besides Terwynn, not a single of their number was seriously hurt.
***
Just at sunrise, Sir Roderick, Sir Elad, Sir Eliver, Sir Miles, Sir Persidius, Sir Bleddyn, and Sir Leiryn, present Princess Audofleda to Prince Madoc. The young man isn't even properly washed or shaved yet, still groggy from sleep, perhaps weary from the siege. He stares at her for a long while. Perhaps he's thinking about what to do with her. Perhaps he's wondering where the hell she came from in the middle of the night. At long last he says "It's not exactly glorious, taking a noblewoman prisoner. But Britain thanks you." He looks as if he might start asking questions about the ladies' wherabouts, when the Prince's herald barges into the tent.
"My Prince! The Franks of the town have offered terms! £10,000 to leave the city in peace!"
The prince's tired face falls into the palm of his hand, before he remembers himself "Oh god...be praised." He clears his throat. "I suppose I better go accept the terms in person, you may all go. Herald, wake up my chamberlain, have him make sure that the ladies are shown every comfort."
***
A few hours later, after what must have been a grueling forced march, the Silchester division arrives in camp. The Praetor, all swagger if a little frayed and smelling of smoke, is dismayed to lay eyes on the giant caravan of treasure already parked by the river, dwarfing his own. He is seen some time later departing the Prince's tent, seemingly cool as a cucumber, where it not for his white knuckles. "Better luck next time" gloats Roderick, as he passes by Levcomagus with a cup of wine in hand.
***
In the evening, with the tribute from Bayeux and Levcomagus's contribution, the British army is now sitting on an absurd fortune. The ships have been summoned, and the loot is being slowly loaded into their hulls. There is some worry going around that they won't be able to even carry it all back to Logres. From the east, the column of Sygarius is spotted approaching. The knights of Salisbury happen to be near the Prince when Sygarius rides up to greet him, with dozens of Gallic equites following behind him. "Madoc!" he cries jubilantly. The Prince does not appear pleased with the familiarity. "Battle awaits us! The enemy is massing at Rouen! Word of your victory at Odon and Caen have spread across the land and your victory at Bayeux will surely do the same! Together, we can knock the barbarian back across the Rhine, or into hell, where he belongs!"
Madoc grinds his teeth. "I have some good news for you, King Sygarius. We have taken hostages; of note King Ragnachar of Cambrai and Princess Audofleda, sister of Clovis."
Sygarius is thrilled. "Aha! Then we have the barbarians in the palm of our hands!. They should be jailed in Logres. My court is in my saddle, and as of yet I can summon no better barrier than the British sea. Clovis will stop at nothing to get her back, needless to mention Ragnachar's many sons."
"That is exactly why they aren't going to Britain; she's beautiful enough to be Helen, I don't need to tell an educated man how that story ends. I make them a gift to you, as a token of our friendship."
"Then...why are you preparing your ships?"
"The hostages aren't going to Britain. My army is."
Sygarius' noble brow curls in rage. "But your father swore-!"
Madoc shrugs. "I am not my father. We have enemies at our borders, and traitors in our west. Besides, we have already more treasure than we could hope to carry back. That's not even counting your share, of course."
"This is not a game, boy! This is my kingdom!"
"Do you really think I have nothing better to do than win crowns for the likes of you?" Madoc remarks cooly.
Sygarius bunches up his reins in his hands. "Victory to the righteous. I'll meet the Franks myself, and when I have my kingdom back, I will not forget this!" he turns his horse and spur it away. The next day, his host, the hostages, and slightly more than half the treasure, are gone. It is also that day that Galehaut de Brun's division returns to camp. They gathered comparatively little booty compared to the rest of the army, because Sir Galehaut decided to hunt down a pair of Wyverns who were troubling the locals. He presented their severed heads to the Prince, who after everything, enjoyed the story.
The next day, the army sailed back to Britain.
***
The Earl is overjoyed to learn that his wife is pregnant. The court prays for a male heir.
***
As Eliver is riding home to Woodford, he finds a bridge in his way to be out. Just as he starts looking around to think of a better path, he suddenly notices a ragged hermit holding a large treebranch to his side.
"You'll thank me later" is all he says, before striking Eliver over the head, knocking him unconscious.
He awakes the next day, under a tree, on a hill overlooking the same bridge, except it appears to now be in perfect condition. His squires come to just after he does. Neither of them seem to have any better idea of what happened, only having their own lumps to show for trying to rescue or avenge their master. Nothing appears to have been stolen, their horses are all hitched up to the tree.
Continuing along their way, they come to Woodford Manor to find the fields completely bare, with hardly any peasants in sight. Perhaps there's been an early harvest? But he cannot see any livestock, either. As he passes through the village, the people start poking their heads out at him as he passes. Out in the manor yard, is a dry white skeleton, in common clothes, but wearing one of Eliver's cloaks. It was the cook, Evan, who was known to borrow it for his evening walks. The stables and barns, likewise, hold nothing but skeletons. Underneath a large clay bowl not too far off, he finds the family cat and her kitten, shaken but alive. In the hall, he finds his family cowering, terrified but breathing.
"Last night...rats...thousands of them...millions...they just...came, they ate...everything." says Gwiona.
After a full review of his estate, Eliver finds that a horde of rats have indeed swept through and eaten every crop, evey crumb of food, every animal, but no people, save one. Evan the cook, who had been wearing Eliver's cloak the night that he was supposed to arrive home.
Thus concludes Year 488: "The Matter of Frankland".
We are taking a break from Pendragon to start Mobsters on Friday, but Pendragon will return at a later date. We'll be finishing up the winter phase for this year over the next few days. Thank you all for playing!