Stories Thread

[_Tristan_]

Co-op between Tristan and Ignoramus

Bruges - 1081

Gaspard tried to brush the mud off his mail as he dismounted. Flandres, true to its reputation, had showered the Order with a drenching torrent, turning the poorly cut road to mud.

Muttering under his breath, Gaspard looked around for the royal pavilion. He had requested an audience with the roi as soon as he had arrived.

Enquiring of one of the men-at-arms, he soon wound his way through the camp. The pavilion was similar to the other tents scattered across the field, though of a finer weave and make of its counterparts. Noticeable was the royal coat of arms flying fiercely in the stiff breeze that had just sprung up to add to the miserable weather.

Walking boldly past the two men-at-arms on guard outside, Gaspard made his way inside.

Immediately upon entering, Gaspard paid the roi a short bow before resuming a respectful stance.

Seeing the young knight, utterly drenched, enter the pavilion, Philippe could bearely repress a smile.

"De Neufville, how was the ride ? A bit humid, I suppose..."

Going to a sidetable with silverware, Philippe turned to Gaspard with a goblet in his hand.

"Un verre de vin chaud, to take the bite of the cold out of your bones?"

"Merci, mon Roi." replied Gaspard gratefully.

After taking a couple of long sips, Gaspard looked at Philippe and began.

"Mon Roi, how long do you think we will have to spend before the walls of Bruges? From what I've heard, an assault would be extraordinarily costly in men."

"Truly, Robert d'Artois, Comte de Flandres, is a formidable adversary. His men are well-trained and disciplined and he has the benefit of the walls.

For now, I was content letting his men come and go. It served our purpose.

Why the query, de Neufville? You have something better to do in the next few seasons?"

Shaking his head, Gaspard fingered his sword.

"Non, I am content to fulfill the Roi's business. Only, I trust it is not too long before I can face the enemy in the field. I prefer the chaos of the melee to the cool, calculated plans of a siege."

"I would tend to agree but the question should be put to your "Captain". He is the one who has lain siege against my orders. I have summoned him to tell him my mind but he hasn't arrived yet. I thought the Order would be more thankful of the honour done by joining me in this campaign."

Looking shocked, Gaspard stared at Philippe.

"Sieur de Rethel has lain siege to Bruges against your orders? I am appalled! He never told me what your orders were. I trust the situation can be salvaged somewhat."

"We'll see what explanations he can come up with for his actions. I am willing to forgive him if he's willing to make amends but I'm not sure everyone in the Royaume will be as generous. Some already think it shows the Order's true agenda."

Gaspard looked the roi straight in the eye and said slowly, "Mon Roi, whatever happens, you may trust moi with your life. I would rather die than fail in mon duty to your majesty."

"You'll soon have opportunities to prove your point, Neufville... Now go and see where your Captain may be and remind him I'm expecting him rather sooner than later... If he wants to salvage this merde he put us all in..."

Mildly shocked at the expletive, Gaspard quickly bowed and left with a "Oui, votre Majesté".

[Cultured Drizzt fan]

Horrible Timing:

Yvon awoke with the largest headache of his life, his temples pounding like drums.... He rose from the bed he was seated in and looked around at the room he was in.... Definitely a tavern, the rats told him that. He could hardly put together a coherent thought, but he realized he was missing something important...
"Wait a minute...... The council....... My lord...... I am late!"
Yvon rummaged around the room frantically looking for his gear and other things, And found them soon enough stacked neatly in one corner. He gathered it all up and was just running out the door when a women entered with a bowl of soup.
She looked startled to see Yvon standing and the bowl clattered onto the floor, spilling the steaming liquid across the floorboards

"oohhhhh! Well sir, I was not expecting you to be up so early.” She smiled a bit and laughed, “Quite a few of the Physicians were not expecting you to get up at all! But I am delighted to see they were wrong.” She looked at Yvon’s equipment “but where could you be off to after your ordeal?”

“I have to go! I am late for the council! If I am not careful, I could miss EVERYTHING! I already missed the Tournement, I will not lose the chance to gain some prestige in the council!” Yvon was frantic “tell me, how much was I drinking…. How long was I out…….”

The lady shifted from foot to foot “well, you were out from the wine for a day….. You were drinking some of my husbands best stock……”

Yvon let out a cry of relief “then there is still time! Thank you Milady! I…”
The woman cut in “but then you caught a fever from some of the food you ate…. You were out for another week. The council is already over with.” Her face scrunched up waiting for the explosion.
“over….” Yvon’s face went blank, his eyes widening. “oh.”

The Woman snapped her fingers “Also, the Prince sent a message, he wishes you to know he is marching from the city to begin campaigning. I told the messenger I would tell you, but as I said you have been out cold…..”

“The prince is on campaign……” Yvon snapped from his stupor.
“Then I have to leave right now!!!!!” He rushed from the inn saddling his horse and making to the gates in what must have been record breaking time.

It was hours of riding before he slowed down, and started thinking “ahhhh, I believe I forgot to pay the tavern keeper for saving my life….. I only payed for a night in the Inn…..” He reached down to his coin purse, and hit only empty air. He looked down and grimaced to see it was missing. He sighed “just my luck…. Well, I think that should be enough to placate the inn keeper…. Wait a second. Did she say I caught the fever from food they gave me?” Another sigh, this one deeper. He almost turned around, heading back into the city to give the women a piece of his mind. Instead he headed south, hoping to catch up to his lord as soon as possible.

[woad&fangs]

Metz, 1084

Bertin sat at the table he had positioned in the center of his chamber facing the door. To his right was situated his bed, which currently contained the sleeping naked form of the curvy blonde serving girl he had spent the night with.

An expected knock emanated from the door. Bertin whispered “enter” just loud enough for the man on the other side to hear, so as not to disturb the sleeping beauty on the bed.

Odo entered the room and cast a blasé look at the girl. This had become all too usual for Bertin since they had come to France. Looking back towards Bertin, Odo growled, “You wish to see me, boy?”

The girl in the bed shifted at the sound of Odo’s voice. Bertin shot a furtive glance in her direction. He was relieved to see that she remained sleeping. Turning back to Odo he angrily whispered back, “If she had heard you call me ‘boy’ our ruse would be uncovered. You will address me as chevalier when in the presence of others, even slumbering serving girls.”

Resuming a calm demeanor, Bertin casually continued, “I called you here to offer a gift for your valor during the assault on Metz. I have managed to procure some ale in this settlement. I know you have been yearning for it since we left Kent.”

Bertin gestured towards two goblets laid out on the table. Bertin picked up the cup closest to him and took a swig. Odo smiled and picked up the other goblet.

“Perhaps I have been a bit harsh on you, chevalier,” Odo quietly said back. With that Odo downed the goblet’s contents in one gulp.

The two sat across from each other for several moments, neither uttering a word. Bertin was writing a letter to Edward, informing him of the capture of Metz. Odo was helping himself to more ale. Finally, Odo looked into Bertin’s eyes with a panicked look of realization etched across his brutish face. “The cup…Poison,” was all Odo could say before he fell off his chair, dead, with a loud thump.

Bertin nonchalantly finished his letter to Edward. “Uncle, I regret to inform you that Odo died during the assault on Metz. May he rest in peace.”

On the bed, the now awake serving girl looked silently in shock at the dead body lying on the floor, which she certainly did not remember being there when she fell asleep.

“Gisela,” Bertin calmly said to the woman while indicating the remaining ale, “Dispose of zis swill. It is embarrassing to even ‘ave it around.”

Gisela hastily threw on her chemise and ran over to the ale. Bertin smiled and then waved her out of the room. With much bowing she quickly backed up to the door and then darted out of the room without even bothering to grab her bliaud.

Bertin dragged the body into a large chest he would use until he could dispose of the body that night. He felt confident that Gisela was too frightened to say anything about what she had seen. Even if she did, it would not matter. The delightful little thing spoke nothing but German.

[_Tristan_]

Bruges, 1083

The man who was ushered in the royal pavilion bore upon him all the marks of the wealth that made him what he was : one of the leading merchants of Bruges, the Venice of the North.

Clad in a heavy fur coat, with heavy chain of gold studded in gems hanging from his neck, his hands coming out of his deep sleeves in a respectful bow allowed the King to get a glimpse of several gems that could almost put those of the King to shame. But even more than the jewels, it was the girth of the man that spoke of his wealth. Philippe estimated it would take the arms of three man to circle the man at his widest.

“Nicholas van Donkkers, at your service, your Majesty”, the man intoned. “You have sent for me, I believe ?”

“Yes, Monsieur Van Donkkers… Please, join me by the fire and warm yourself…”

“Thank you, your Majesty” The man warmed his hands by the fire, clearly wanting for the King to speak first.

“I have asked you here as the leading merchant in that guild of yours. You and I have some impotant matters to discuss for the future of your city. How do you like having Artois as your souverain, van Donkkers ?”

Not knowing where the discussion would lead, the merchant chose to speak his mind truthfully.

“Robert d’Artois is a fool, a dangerous fool… But to be frank, your Majesty, I’d prefer having him as my overlord and suffer his foolishness than having him removed at the risk of seeing my city sacked and my riches and those of my fellow merchants spilt down the streets.”

“To be frank myself, I’d prefer Robert removed but I do not want to see your “riches” go anywhere else than the coffers where they belong. Nous, les Français are not thieves like those English fiends. So you see your views are not irreconcilable. I want Flanders to be part of France and to accomplish this, I’ll need Bruges to surrender to me. A siege is a lengthy and costly business, one I do not relish… And neither should you…”

“No, your Majesty, but it is not as if I or any other of the citizens have any choice in the matter. You either lay siege to the city or you don’t… And seeing the massing of forces and that lightning raid by some of your knights, I expect the siege will come soon… Preparations have already been made… Artois is a fool in all things but not in matters of war… Truly, it may cost you dearly to storm our walls…” Nicholas wondered if he hadn’t gone too far, his words had come out of his mouth faster than he wanted to speak them… now it was too late to take them back.

Philippe immediately picked up on the unease of the man.
“You are right… The siege will come. And if it lasts, it will mean the end of your guild and your precious privileges… Other cities will fill the vacuum left when your port and gates close up. You will never be able to recover. Ruin is what awaits you if I siege the city.”

Nicholas managed to stand his ground though the commitment of the King frightened him.

“Only if you win, Votre Majesté… Artois is right now negotiating with the English to come and help, if they do, you’ll be caught between the rock and the hard place.”

“And I will win that I can guarantee you… If not now, then one day, and when that day comes, you will wish you are on my side, van Donkkers”

“And what can I do to be on your side ? Bruges is my city… I live there, as did my father and his father before him…”

“So be true to her and have her join one of the greatest Royaume of our age… Help me overthrow Artois…”

Van Donkkers was taken aback, never had he expected such an offer. But he now saw the uncertainty that beset the French king. Bruges was heavily defended and France was at the mercy of the English and the Germans. If he could not get a swift resolution here, leaving the French army tied up in a lengthy siege, that mercy could very well end suddenly and violently. Nicholas suddenly sensed he had the higher ground, an opportunity that could well turn in his favour.

“What would you require of me and the guild then, your Majesty ?”

“To help this man get in and out of the city unnoticed…” Philippe made a small gesture with his hand and suddenly a man dressed in a black tunic and cloak stood by his side. “He must have been hiding in the shadows of the tent all this time” thought van Donkkers, a thought that chilled him to the bone despite the fire. His face was totally common, the kind of face you would forget immediately once you had him out of your sight.

“Nicholas vanDonkkers, meet Aubry Fevre, a loyal servant of the Couronne Française”

The man gave van Donkkers a parody of a bow, his eyes never leaving Nicholas’ face.

“I want you to help him acquire knowledge of Artois’ forces in the city, their patrols, anything… And when the time comes, I want you to help him have the gates opened for us…” A look of worry crossed van Donkkers’ face “Don’t worry, he’ll know how to proceed, all you have to do is make sure he can relay to us anything he discovers and make sure he can bribe, kill or otherwise subdue the gates’ guards when the time come…”

Van Donkkers balked at the enormity of the plan. Nevertheless the opportunity was still there, otherwise why would the king bother to ask him ? He could have sent the man, unbeknown to anybody in the city.

“Your Majesty, you want me to betray my city but I see nothing in it for me or my fellow citizens. Once your forces are in the city, they’ll be free to prey upon our women and our riches, such is the law of war. What assurances do I have that anything like this will not happen ?”

“You’ll have my word, van Donkkers… Surely the word of the French king carries some weight..”

Out of pure boldness, Nicholas went on “Yes, you Majesty… But what would there be in it for me, personally ? What of the Guild ?”

“So we’re down to haggling, van Donkkers… Speak… What would you ask for your service ?”

“Your promise that the town will be left untouched when it falls…”

“Granted.”

“…and your promise that you will take steps to make Bruges the major trading city of France.”

“Granted.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.” Nicholas fought hard not to let as igh pass his lips.

“Do not thank me yet… The city has not fallen… And should you fail in helping us resolve this siege in due time, you’d prefer your pact was with the Devil rather than with me. Now, go and take Aubry with you. Next time I’ll see you will be on the other side of those walls.”

With a quick bow, Nicholas retreated, the man Aubry in his wake.

Walking back to his carriage, Nicholas was trying to find how to explain the new servant he had acquired in his retinue.