Hiding a Leaf in the Woods (Kolath & Confrazzled)

This was a scenario the Princess Selwynn had been drilled on often enough, to scurry down the servants’ passageways and into the stable, and to mount one of the servants’ horses, the ubiquitous sort that could pass as a peasant’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 traveller’s cloak, or a burgher’s. An impoverished burgher’s. An impoverished male burgher’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 couldn’t procrastinate any longer, for such a futile, bizarre reason as wishing to clasp fast to this last moment attired in proper woman’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.

Sex Beast Number of posts : 249 Age : 38 Registration date : 2008-08-20

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. “Sir Fryan of the shadow at your service my lady,” 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. “If I may mylady?” he slowly started to remove her ring, taking with it her rank and the last mark of who she was.

Last edited by Confrazzled on Sat Jan 03, 2009 4:11 pm; edited 1 time in total

“I am ready,” 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 gathered—and those were few enough, for the princess tried to be rather practical about the sentimentality of it all—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 he’d been bathed in that grey pre-light, he’d seemed as any peasant might. His posture seemed so much less . . . formal, and regal. Lacking in confidence. But perhaps that was merely Selwynn’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. She’d expected Gwydion, her sole remaining personal guard to accompany her, but . . . the king had deemed that far too suspicious. Too many knew Gwydion’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.

“Well met, brother,” she grinned implicitly, trying to infuse some little humour into the situation.

Sex Beast Number of posts : 249 Age : 38 Registration date : 2008-08-20

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

“I suspect that there shall be rather more of them, than you are accustomed to,” Selwynn replied, dimpling a little with the humour of it. “Brother indeed,” 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 princess’ 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. “Your princess thanks you,” 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.

Sex Beast Number of posts : 249 Age : 38 Registration date : 2008-08-20

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. “I will return for you old friend,” 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 wasn’t long in coming out and taking the hawk’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 ‘brothers’ 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.

((Coulda kept going but I wasn't sure how far to push action, with you. Figured this gave you enough to work with.))

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 beast’s odd gait had her using muscles she’d long forgotten about, and set them stiff. Selwynn slid from her saddle, holding her horse’s reins with one hand and rubbing the other hand distractedly along the inside of her britcheted thigh. “Ah!” she winced. “Not quite what I had envisioned. I guess I am rather softer than I anticipated.” The horse lowered its head, starting to drink sloppily from the icy brook.

Sex Beast Number of posts : 249 Age : 38 Registration date : 2008-08-20

The bay that he was on was no less lurchy but being used to the hardships of riding a horse in battle it didn’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 horse’s girth and then broke out the hardtack rations holding one out to her. “Here brother, its not very appetizing but it is some of the best food for on the road.” He grabbed the water skin taking a quick drink to ease his parched mouth before handing it to her. “Go slowly…or it will come back up.” He smiled and then sat right next to her one hand clapping down on her shoulder. “Now brother lets take a look at those legs, I warned you riding could be hard on you the first few times.”

“I ride finely enough in the hunt,” she glowered in hushed tones, more frustrated with her own lack of stamina than directing the anger at the knight, in particular. “I am not exactly the softest, lily-handed . . .” But she caught herself, halting the flow of words and pursing her lips to a grim line, “brother, ay?” 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. “Though I suppose we have no few steps to take before we succeed, and this business of brothers becomes solidified, yes? I mean, ‘ay’?”

She stretched out her legs, parallel as they ran to this segment of the winding brook, and allowed her ‘older brother’ 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. “I should be calling you by something other than ‘Sir Fryan’, for one. And for another, ‘Selwynn’ 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.” She paused, raising a finger contemplatively to tap against her somewhat squared chin. “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.” 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 plan’s conception, that she would need to. “My dialogue, I expect, shall take a great deal more study, ay?” she smiled again, meeting her knight’s eyes once more to lighten the mood.

» (Currently Untitled) (Zero & Confrazzled) A Sci-fi Roleplay
» ~*~Hel hath no Fury~*~[Kratos x Confrazzled]
» Master of the Keep (buttefly0408/Kolath)
» Runaway to forced bride [kolath]
» Pirate Epic (butterfly0408/Kolath)