A Tale of Two Lordlings

So... Last week was a killer as far as work. I was absolutely slammed--so much that I honestly started using entirely incorrect words for no reason. I think the language center of my brain was scrambled or something. It was honestly like someone dumped out a dictionary and left me to pick it up, and I was trying to put words in the wrong spots, like that old game of Perfection where you had to fit the little yellow shapes into the plastic holes before the time expired...

In any case, I have not had any space to think of or develop any original ideas for this week's blog post, so... I'm giving you a little excerpt from some backstory I wrote several years ago. This story will come up in Unquickened, so I thought it might be fun for y'all to see the source material. It's long, but y'all don't seem to mind that...

In this Tale of Two Lordlings, Braedan is staying with Connor's family for a short time, and these two 17-year-old hotheads have a little exchange over a girl...

Enjoy!

In the morning, Connor dressed in simple linens and woolens and went to the audience hall to break his fast. Braedan was already there, sipping mead and watching a particularly buxom maid serve the regent and Connor's father. Braedan looked up at Connor and grinned. He pointed to the girl. “That one—can you introduce me?”

Connor sat down and picked up a piece of bread. “Are there no pretty girls on Stone Coast?”

“Oh, there are pretty, willing girls everywhere, especially for a noble.” Braedan put his mead down. “So? Introduce me.”

Connor put a sausage on his trencher and sipped his mead. “That’s not my duty. I’m here to entertain you and show you around the estate, not get women into your bed.”

Braedan laughed. “You’re here to entertain me? Then provide me with some entertainment.”

“If you think she’d be willing, I’m sure you can manage on your own.”

Braedan shrugged. “I’m sure some girl will be willing to indulge me. Once it’s dark, it really doesn’t matter much what they look like.”

Gods. What an ass. Connor stared at him. “Your father is a great friend of the kirok. The kirok preaches chastity. Do you not share that belief?”

“No. I have no love for the kirok. The kirok has done nothing for me.” Bitterness tinged his voice, and he settled his sharp blue eyes on his father. “My mother didn’t believe in the kirok, either. It earned her the rough side of my father’s tongue and the hard side of his hand more than once.”

A flash of sympathy welled up for Braedan. The regent’s wife, Lady Alison, had taken her own life years before. “I’d forgotten about the sad circumstances of your mother’s death, my lord. I’m sorry.”

“Yes. Well. I think my father got what he wanted—an heir and all the sympathy of his Table of Councilors.” He took a deep breath and turned back to Connor. “So. What do you do for entertainment around here if it doesn’t involve women?”

“Spar. Hunt. Ride. Would you like to go riding? I could arrange something to include some of the merchant youth in the village.”

“Will you invite some girls?”

Connor sipped his mead. “Of course.”

“Then please—arrange whatever you’d like.”

Connor finished his meal and went to the kitchens to arrange food for the group he had in mind. He found his father’s steward and gave him a list of young people to invite and sent the steward out into the city. By the time the steward returned, Braedan was already bored, so Connor offered to spar with him in the practice yard.

When he arrived, Braedan was waiting, idly brandishing his sword. Connor was glad to see he’d at least shed some of his finery. He was dressed in simple linen tunic and wool breeches. Connor pulled off his own tunic, and Braedan gestured to his tribal marks. “You have a tattoo on your chest, too. And your arm.”

Connor looked down. “That’s the marriage tattoo. It’s only half done. They’ll finish it when I marry. The ones on my arm are from the hunt.” He pointed to his back and turned so that Braedan could see the wolf’s head. “That’s the tribal mark.”

“Gods.” Braedan twisted his wrist, dragging the point of his sword through the dirt of the practice yard. “Don’t you worry that women will be repulsed by all that blue dye?”

“No.” Connor lifted his sword. “Show me what you learned on Stone Coast, my lord.”

Braedan grinned. “By all means.”

They danced around each other for nearly an hour, and by the time they were done, both were dripping with sweat and covered in dust and dirt. Braedan at last held up a hand, sheathed his sword, and then sat down with a skin of water. “That’s the most exercise I’ve had since I left my uncle’s estates,” he said, panting. “You’re good. I had no idea you’d be so well-trained.”

Connor sat next to him and drank his own water. “Thanks. I've had good instruction. You’re good, too.”

"No thanks to my father. My uncle has insisted I learn the blade. I think my father would rather we just leave all the fighting to the soldiers.”

“You don’t?”

Braedan shrugged. “I suppose if the soldiers are loyal it might be all right, but I like the feel of a sword in my hand.”

Connor laughed. “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I’ve agreed with.”

They retired to bathe and dress for their ride. When the other young people began to arrive, Connor ensured that anyone who didn’t have a horse was supplied one from his father’s stable.

Aislinn arrived amid all of the chaos, her blond hair bound in a tight knot at her neck and her slender curves hugged by a wool riding dress that had once belonged to Connor's sister. She smiled at Connor and curtsied. “My lord Mac Niall. Thank you for inviting me on this outing.”

Connor bowed and lifted her hand to his lips. “The pleasure is mine, my lady.”

Aislinn stepped closer. “You look handsome, Connor.”

“And you are a vision, Aislinn.” His stomach tightened, and he couldn’t tell how much was desire and how much was jealousy over knowing how Braedan would see her. He put her hand on his arm. “I’ll help you find a gentle horse.”

When Braedan arrived in the courtyard, Connor introduced him to everyone, saving Aislinn for last. “This is my… This is Aislinn. Aislinn, his highness, Prince Braedan Mac Corin.”

Braedan gave Aislinn a crooked grin and lifted her hand to his mouth. Connor saw the color rise in her cheeks. “My lady Aislinn. It’s a delight to meet you. I’m so pleased you can grace this outing with your presence.”

Aislinn curtsied. “M-my lord… Your highness, I—”

“Call me Braedan, my lady,” the prince said.

Does he have to be so familiar? Connor stepped closer to Aislinn and put an arm around her shoulders. “Let's mount up and ride before it gets too late.”

The group rode out to the southern fields of the Mac Niall holdings, and Connor led them on a gentle tour of the streams and fields and forested areas around the estate. When they arrived back near the village, a bonfire burned high, and servants had set up a simple supper for them.

After everyone had eaten, the girls separated into a group and the boys started to challenge each other to friendly contests. Braedan approached Connor with a cup of ale in hand. He gestured to the boys. “You don’t participate?”

“I’ve beaten too many of them. It’s hard to tell if they let me win or I best them fairly.”

Braedan laughed. He pointed to the girls. “Aislinn. Is she warming your bed?”

“No. She’s a very chaste lady.” Connor looked at Braedan. “It’s not a contest. I don’t care if you’ve been with a hundred women. I’d rather keep to one woman.”

Braedan snorted. “Noble, but unrealistic. Even your father didn’t manage that much.”

“He was faithful to his wife until she was killed.”

“Was he?” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Did his Esparan mistress conceive you before or after his wife died?”

Connor clenched his hand around the hilt of a dagger in his belt and took a long drink of his ale. “My mother is a noble lady.”

“The boys here talk about her, you know. About you. They say your father was bewitched—that she captured him, made him—”

“And what do they say about your mother, Braedan?” Connor looked down at him. “What do they say about a woman who would take her own life when she has a son to raise?”

His jaw tightened. “I’m only telling you—”

“Excuse me, my lord. I’m neglecting my lady.” Connor walked away from him, but he went past the girls and the horses and servants and paced in the shadows, trying to shake the anger. Magic tingled at the edge of his awareness, and from the corner of his eye he saw the violet braids of air that meant his mother was near, hiding in shadow, watching him. “I don’t care what he says about me,” he whispered. “But if my father heard what he said about you, he’d beat the little jackass bloody.”

The braids wound around him, soothing and calming him, and he took a deep breath and relaxed.

“Connor.”

He turned to see Aislinn standing with her hands folded demurely before her. “Aislinn. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have neglected you. I just…”

She stepped closer. “I know you chafe around people. It’s all right.” She smiled. “The prince offered to see me back to the village.”

He straightened. “No. I’ll see you home. That’s my responsibility.” He put his hand on her cheek. “You do look very pretty tonight, Aislinn. Megan’s clothes do you justice.”

She closed her eyes. “I’ve missed you this week.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“I know. But it makes me wonder… Could we really… I mean, the demands of a duchy would be a lot.”

He frowned. “Aislinn, you know I’ll never be the duke.”

“But what if you could? What if… there were a way?”

He put both hands on her shoulders. “Aislinn, look at me.” She opened her eyes and looked up. “This is not the life I’ll ever get to have. I’m a bastard. There is no Taurin law that would recognize me as heir to this estate. My father calls me a Mac Niall, but it doesn’t mean anything. Anything I have in this life will be something I earn on my own. I might be a merchant, but I’ll never be a duke.” He paused. “Is that what you’re hoping for? Wealth or a duchy or something?”

She shook her head. “No, Connor, that’s not—”

He let go of her. “We should go, perhaps. It is getting late.”

“Connor—” She stepped toward him again, put a hand on his arm. “Please, stop. I don’t care about that—about money or an estate. I only meant that the regent is here, now, and the prince, and perhaps your father could do something to ensure that you could inherit.”

“No. There’s nothing.” He put her hand on his arm. “Come. I’ll take you home.”

The group started to break up, and Connor helped Aislinn mount her horse. Braedan put a hand on Connor's arm. "I'll see the lady home," he said. "Alone."

Connor turned to him. "No, I invited her. I'll see her home. If you wish, you can join us."

Braedan stepped closer to Connor and lowered his voice so that Aislinn wouldn't overhear. "It's your job to entertain me, remember? I think I know how I'd like to be entertained this evening."

Later, when Fergus and Culain asked what had happened, Connor could honestly say that he did not recall his hand tightening around Braedan's collar, nor did he remember his fist connecting with Braedan's jaw. He only remembered that one moment the prince was standing, and the next, he lay in the dust, lip bleeding, bruise forming on his jaw, clutching one side from a kick that Connor also did not remember delivering.

Connor did, however, remember leaning over the prince as other young men and servants ran at Aislinn's scream. "Listen to me," Connor said, hovering over Braedan's face, holding him steady to be certain that Braedan saw his eyes and heard every word. "And you remember this. If I ever catch you near Aislinn or any other girl who would be ruined by knowing you, I will beat you far worse than this."

The prince gasped and sputtered, his face red and twisted as much from anger as from pain. "You... you will... be punished... for this..."

Connor dropped him in the dirt. "Do your worst. I have nothing to lose." He mounted his horse and motioned to Aislinn, and they set out at a canter toward the village.

_________

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into the past! If you like this, keep watching for more... I'm slowly getting more content put together, and I'll soon have news about some additional platforms where you can read my work.

In the meantime, please share this snippet and others, and I'll hopefully have an update for you on Unquickened next week!