fic: a not-fairytale (pg-13, gen) 2/2
Dec. 5th, 2009 01:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sailorstkwrning Part 1
Jon is quiet as they go up the stairs. He moves slowly and he's breathing hard, but he shakes Ryan off when Ryan tries to help him. They are almost to the landing when Ryan hears the sound of running footsteps and boys yelling. Jon steps out of the way, but Ryan just waits. The boys see them and slow down just enough for Ryan to grab their collars as they barrel past. They fall down in heaps of untidy limbs. Ryan ignores their outraged protests, boxes their ears and dispatches them to the kitchen to fetch hot water and food.
The food arrives first: a plate of bread, cheese and sliced meats, and two tankards of rich brown ale. Jon sits on the bed and sips the ale while Ryan drags the laird's tub out and locates some mostly clean clothes for Jon to change into once he's bathed.
The boys finally arrive with buckets of hot water and Ryan is quick to fill the tub, conscious of Jon's eyes on him. He sends the boys off for more water, then helps Jon out of his clothes and into the bath. Jon grumbles a little, but sighs happily once he's actually in the water. Ryan brings the tray of food over and busies himself with putting Jon's things aside to be washed -- or, better, burned -- and turning down the bed. He has so many questions he doesn't know which one he wants to ask first.
He's debating between "Where have you been?" and "What happened to you?" when the door swings wide and Spenthair walks in, flanked by the Giant and the Whippet. They are all wearing swords and Spenthair shows no signs of having fallen into a thorn bush only the day before. Ryan stands in front of the tub, arms stretched out, and prays Spenthair doesn't decide to just run him through.
Spenthair arches one eyebrow and waves Ryan aside. Ryan swallows hard and stands his ground. The Giant steps forward and Spenthair grabs the back of his tunic and yanks him back, gargling something sharp. The Giant flushes but offers no reply.
Spenthair turns back to Ryan and raises his arms, showing flat, open palms. There's noise behind them and Spenthair moves just enough for two boys to come through with more hot water. The Whippet grabs one of them on their way out and gargles something -- he has the same odd accent as Jherard -- and a moment later the boy comes back with three low stools. Spenthair sits down, followed, slowly, by the others, and Ryan reluctantly steps out of the way.
Spenthair gargles a question, and Jon once again gargles back at him. Jon speaks slowly and stumbles over some of the words, but Spenthair still seems to understand.
Ryan only understands bits and pieces of the conversation that follows, but he can tell the news continues to be bad from the way Spenthair's expression darkens. He also catches the word for "men" and "horses," and if Jon's gestures are anything to go by, there are archers, too.
The Whippet leans forward and asks a few questions too, but Jon's answers to those take longer, and he seems to struggle more for the words. Also his voice is starting to sound strained. Ryan is gathering himself to interrupt when the Whippet sits back, apparently satisfied. Spenthair gives Ryan one last appraising look, then stands up and leads the men away.
Jon exhales loudly and sinks down into the water. Ryan stands still, listening, then goes and closes the door. When he comes back, Jon is swaying to his feet, trying to get out of the tub. Ryan rushes to help him, and manages to get him into a clean robe with a minimum of fuss and swearing.
Jon sits down on the edge of the bed and eats some of the sliced meat. Ryan perches on one of the stools and twists his hands in his robes. Jon straightens up and tries to look at Ryan, but Ryan can tell he's all but asleep. Ryan takes a deep breath, stands up, and moves all of the dishes onto the trunk at the end of the bed. Then he pushes Jon's good shoulder until he falls over onto the pillows.
Jon coughs and sighs and curls in on himself, and Ryan covers him in sleeping furs. His questions can wait. Jon starts to snore softly. Ryan drapes another fur over his shoulders, then moves around as quietly as he can, eating the rest of the food and emptying the bath.
Jon sleeps for the rest of the afternoon. Ryan hovers nearby for a time, brushing Brendawn's robes and pressing stray boys into service changing the rushes in all of the rooms on the second floor, but it soon becomes clear Jon is unlikely to wake unless the Last Trump sounds. Ryan tucks the furs more closely around Jon's shoulders, dismisses the boys to the stables, and makes his way to the still room.
He passes through the courtyard on the way, and while it is, as usual, full of men with swords, something doesn't look right. Ryan stops and scans the ranks again, and it becomes clear: Spenthair, the Whippet, the Giant and several of the other men are gone. The drills are being led by hunched old men -- one of them is missing an ear -- and most of the people wielding the swords are half-grown boys.
Ryan smoothes his hands over his robes and walks a little faster.
When he does get to the still room he finds Brendawn and Jherard hunched over a cauldron wearing matching thoughtful expressions. Whatever they are cooking smells vile. The second interloper is still at the table, and sorting the enormous pile of greenery from earlier. He's unbearably slow about it, though, running his fingers over every root and stem like they're made of spun gold. Ryan's knife is laying beside him on the table.
Ryan steps forward to grab it and the interloper pins Ryan's wrist to the table in one sudden, sharp movement and gargles angrily at Ryan. Ryan cries out in surprise and a little pain, and both Brendawn and Jherard turn around.
"Frang," Jherard says, followed by some gargling, and the interloper lets go of Ryan's hand.
Ryan grabs the kife with one hand and goes to smack Frang in the head with the other, but Jherard catches his hand mid-swing and gargles sharply at him. Ryan shifts, trying to yank his hand free, and Frang stands up, clearly ready for a fight.
"Stop," Brendawn says, loudly, and they all freeze.
Brendawn shoves Frang back down on the bench, then walks around Jherard to prize his hand off of Ryan's wrist. Then he takes the knife from Ryan's other hand and stuffs it up his sleeve. Ryan grits his teeth against a protest.
Brendawn makes an aggravated noise and elbows Jherard out of the way. Then he picks a handful of greenery up off the table and holds it out to Frang. Frang frowns and his nostrils flare, and he misses Brendawn's hand when he reaches for it. Brendawn lowers his hand to the table with a gentle thump. Frang's expression clears, and he seems to find Brendawn's hand easily.
Ryan flushes, shame and irritation vying for dominance. How was he supposed to know Frang was blind? Brendawn gives Ryan a stern look and he apologizes as he knows he is supposed to do. Frang's knit fleetingly, and then he stands up and offers Ryan his hand. Ryan clasps it as briefly as propriety will allow -- it's then that he notices Frang is also missing a finger -- and they both sit down at the table.
Jherard is still giving him a baleful look. Ryan hunches his shoulders and scowls at a clump of weeds. He's grateful when Brendawn sends him to the scullery to wash out some cauldrons. He scrubs them thoroughly, cursing Jherard and Frang and every last one of their brethren, until the cauldrons are gleaming and his hands are red and sore.
Ryan does feel a bit better for venting his spleen, though. When he gets back to the still room Jherard's good humor also seems to have been restored. Even Frang is singing softly to himself as he peels apart leaves and stems.
Brendawn takes the cauldrons from Ryan with a smile, and Ryan relaxes further. He doesn't care for the opinion of interlopers, but he does not want Brendawn to turn him out of the still room, or worse, the castle.
After that Brendawn gives Ryan a series of errands that require him to run all over the castle. He's on his way back from one of them when he hears the clatter of hooves in the courtyard. Ryan leans out a window to investigate and sees that Spenthair and the men have come back. The Giant swings down off his horse with ease. The Whippet is slower, however, and even from a distance Ryan can see he's favoring one arm.
Ryan watches for a moment longer, then makes his way to the still room. He opens the door and finds Spenthair and a few of the other men are already there. Frang is moving between them, helping them out of their armor. Brendawn and Jherard are following in Frang's wake, gargling at each other over various scrapes, cuts and bruised limbs. None of the men seem especially badly wounded, but Spenthair looks exhausted.
Ryan sets the jug he had been sent to retrieve on the sideboard, and goes to help Frang. They're struggling with a particularly stubborn set of leather ties when the door slams open and the Giant strides in, dragging the Whippet behind him.
"Mihall?" Jherard says, abandoning the man he's working on and walking across the room to help the Whippet to a bench, gargling anxiously the whole time.
The Giant gargles back at Jherard, but his accent is even stranger than Jherard's and Mihall's, and Ryan can't understand him at all.
Brendawn apparently can, though, because he looks up from the bandage he's tying with wide, startled eyes and gargles a question at Spenthair. There's a long pause before Spenthair answers him, and Ryan can sense the other men are uneasy.
Brendawn starts to ask another question. Jherard interrupts him, gargling angrily at Spenthair, but the Giant interrupts him just as quickly. Jherard narrows his eyes and draws himself up, and all of the men go very still. Mihall mumbles something Ryan can't hear, but it makes Jherard deflate and turn to him. His mouth is set in a tight line, though, and Ryan can tell the argument isn't over.
After that the room is unnaturally quiet, the silence broken by the occasional hiss of pain or muffled curse word. Ryan goes where he's bid, helping both Brendawn and Jherard. He keeps a close eye on Brendawn, who is curled in on himself in a way that Ryan has only seen a few times before, and has come to dread. Gradually the noise level of the room rises again.
It is well past dark by the time the last of the men have been seen to and sent off to the Great Hall to eat. Even Brendawn is starting to wilt, hiding big yawns in his sleeve as he writes in one of his big black books. Ryan is itching to look in on Jon but unwilling to leave if Brendawn might still need him. He makes a production of folding bandages and stacking pots of salve until Brendawn stops writing and waves him off.
When Ryan does get upstairs, he finds Mihall has been put to bed with Jon, and the Giant is standing guard over both of them.
Ryan steps closer to the bed, eying the Giant warily, but the Giant is carving something out of bone and doesn't seem to be perturbed by his presence. Mihall appears to be sleeping. Ryan moves quietly so as not to disturb him.
This time Jon wakes when Ryan touches his shoulder. He accepts a cup of water and drinks it slowly. When he finishes that Ryan helps him stand and walk to the necessary room. Jon moves slowly, still clearly in pain, but much steadier than he was earlier in the day.
When they come back, Ryan settles Jon on the bed and gives him another cup of water and a couple of pieces of bread from the tray that someone had probably brought up for Mihall. Jon nibbles at them, telling his story between bites.
Evidently the reivers had come through the sheepfold, too numerous and moving too fast for Jon to sound the alarm before he was knocked out. They carried him away with the sheep and held him captive for a time. Eventually he managed to escape.
Jon pauses to take a drink of water, and Ryan realizes the Giant has stopped carving and watching them intently. Jon follows Ryan's gaze and shrugs one shoulder, then resumes his story. Once free, Jon had started for home, traveling with some people he met on the road. They were within a days' walk of the castle when they were attacked by raiders.
Jon and a few of the men in the party had tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. Jon and the rest of the men that weren't killed in the struggle were taken back to the raiders' camp. Most of the captives had been driven out of their homes further north; they were killed outright. Somehow the raiders had figured out Jon was local, and settled on forcing information out of him.
Jon stops again, and took a deep drink of water. Behind him, Mihall huffs in his sleep and rolls over. Ryan stands up and paces back and forth a couple of times, aware the Giant is watching him. Jon sets the cup down and rubs his eyes before he continues.
The raiders rode out several times -- scouting missions, as far as Jon could tell -- before they struck camp and began marching towards the castle. One night they had all gotten very drunk and careless, and Jon and a few of the others had managed to escape.
The other men had decided to take their chances on the road, while Jon hid in a tree, barely breathing for fear the raiders would hear him. He stayed in the tree for the better part of a day; by the time he started to climb down, his fingers were numb and shaky. Halfway down he disturbed a pheasant, or some other bird, and was so startled himself that he let go and fell the rest of the way. He had been creeping around the castle walls looking for a place to sneak in when Mihall and the Giant found him.
Jon takes another deep drink of water and rolls his shoulders, his expression tightening in pain. Ryan looks down at his knees, vaguely ashamed and annoyed for the second time that day. When he looks up again, Jon and the Giant are both looking at him. Jon's expression is amused and inquisitive, and the Giant's glare is as baleful as ever.
"What about you?" Jon asks, kicking at Ryan's ankles. "What adventures did you have?"
Ryan shrugs one shoulder and looks at the floor. Jon prods him again, the amusement in his expression dimming. Ryan sighs and tells him about hiding with the pigs. Jon's grin broadens when Ryan tells him how one of the bigger sows had driven off a raider, and he start to laugh for real when Ryan tells him about waking up covered in grunting piglets and mud.
Ryan skips over the dead bodies in the courtyard and the accidentally locking himself in the mastiff cage. He also doesn't mention how he almost ran away, mainly because the Giant is pretty clearly still listening to their conversation. Ryan is halfway through describing the first feast when the door to the room pops open and Spenthair comes in.
He's leaning heavily on a smaller, dark-haired man that Ryan vaguely recognizes from his forays into the courtyard. The Giant stands up, hand on his sword-head, and they gargle at each other for a few moments.
Ryan uses the distraction to hustle Jon up and out of the room and down to the cow barn. Jon is still very slow, and by the time they get there Ryan can see beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Ryan finds a spot between the two friendliest cows and makes a extra plump pile of hay for them to sleep on. Jon settles down easily enough, and Ryan tells the feast story until they both fall asleep.
Two days pass. Jon stays in the barn most of the time, alternating between helping some of the girls tend the cows and feeding the cats that come begging for milk. Ryan goes back to the still room and is pressed into service next to Frang, chopping, peeling and grinding plants for Brendawn and Jherard.
Meanwhile, the men are still drilling in the courtyard, and there is a steady stream of visitors to the still room with blackened eyes and bloodied noses. Neither Jherard nor Brendawn make any comment. Ryan keeps his head down and chops as slowly as he dares, straining to catch enough words to figure out what is going on. He can tell the men are restless and eager to fight.
On the afternoon of the third day, Ryan is in the courtyard, filling a bucket with water, when two riders come through the gates. One is fair, and almost as big as the Giant; Ryan thinks there might be ears tied into his beard. The other one is smaller and dark, and the dark, swirling lines on his arms are bright against his pale skin.
Ear-beard bellows a greeting, and they dismount. Two boys come forward to take their horses, and Spenthair and Mihall leave the line of drilling men. There is a good deal of happy shouting, and then the four of them go into the great hall. Ryan picks up his bucket and tries to follow them, but he doesn't get very far before the Giant catches his arm and shoves him towards the still room.
Ryan stumbles, almost spilling the water. The Giant gargles something at the men and the sound of metal crashing against metal chases Ryan all the way down the corridor.
That night there is a feast, including sweet mead and a freshly slaughtered cow. Ryan is lightheaded with drink when the Great Hall fills with the roar of a massive drum, silencing all conversation. Jon's eyes get very wide. Spenthair stands up, and Ryan falls off the bench when he tries to turn around and look at him. No-one seems to notice, so Ryan stays on the floor, clinging to the rushes and waiting for his head to stop ringing.
The drums stop when Spenthair starts talking. He speaks for a long time and is often interrupted by the cheering of the men. When he finishes the hall erupt in hollering and stamping, which only dies down when Ear-beard gets up and walks to the center of the room.
He talks for a while, too, and Ryan thinks he might be telling a story. At one point he unties one of the ears and holds it up, gargling loudly, and the hall erupts again.
The people around Ryan start to move, and Ryan heaves himself back up on the bench just as the drums start up again. Several more men join Ear-beard -- Mihall, the Giant, and Ink-arms among them -- and the drumbeat picks up as they draw their swords. They raise them above their heads for a moment, then, to Ryan's astonishment, they bell out into a circle and start dancing.
Somewhere behind them, Brendawn is singing. After one verse the rest of the hall (including Ryan) joins in. A couple of verses later he falls off the bench again, but this time he doesn't get up.
The next thing Ryan knows Ear-beard is kicking him in the ribs. He kicks back in protest and tries to roll away. Ear-beard just leans down and hauls him up by his robes, shakes him a couple of times, and drops him on a bench. Ryan presses a hand to his head, trying to ease the throbbing, but it doesn't work. Jon, slumped next to him, looks equally unhappy.
Ryan's noisily sick twice, and then Brendawn appears out of nowhere and shoves a mug of ale in his face. Ryan takes it and drinks it slowly, watching Ear-beard kick more people awake. The hall empties out slowly. When Brendawn leaves Ryan follows him, and Jon trails behind both of them.
They go out into the courtyard, where it is colder, and also still dark. There are a few torches burning, casting odd shadows against the faces of the men. There are horses everywhere, stamping and snorting in the chill. Brendawn shoves Ryan and Jon toward two small ponies. Ryan hauls himself up into the saddle with difficulty.
A few minutes later Spenthair rides past them, and they fall in behind him in a disorganized column. The rest of the barbarians follow them on foot. The men are quiet; Ryan, still muzzy from sleep, is confused but grateful. He curls his fingers in his pony's rough mane and does his best not to fall off.
They ride until they come to the edge of the wood. The men without horses glide past them in silent waves, melting into the trees. The rest dismount and lead their ponies into the forest. Ryan slides off his pony and follows Brendawn and Jon, conscious of every leaf crunching and twig cracking beneath his feet.
Brendawn stops them a few yards from the treeline. It's still mostly dark, but there is enough light for Ryan to see the enemy camp spread out on the field on the other side of the trees. There are one or two people moving around, and he can see the faint sparks of a fire.
The men around him shift into a line. For one awful moment Ryan thinks he might be supposed to join them, but when Jon steps forward, Brendawn yanks him back, hissing angrily.
They wait. Spenthair and Ear-beard walk past the line, stopping periodically to cuff men into place. At some point Jherard appears out of the gloom and stands a few yards down from Brendawn, hands tucked into his sleeves and his eyes on the ground. Brendawn looks over at him; Jherard raises his head briefly and meets Brendawn's gaze, but they don't speak.
Spenthair and Ear-beard walk back to the center of the line and draw their swords. The horses whuffle and stamp. Spenthair holds his left hand up, three fingers extended towards the sky. He lowers them one at a time; when the last one comes down, Brendawn and Jherard let out an unearthly noise, and the men in the line take off through the trees and scream their way down the hill.
Brendawn starts walking closer to the treeline while the echoes of his voice fade, and waves at Ryan and Jon to follow him. They watch the battle. Ryan loses his familiar faces to the bloody, muddy scrum fairly quickly, and the crash of steel is almost deafening. At some point the campfire leaps its bounds and the field becomes dotted with pockets of flames. The fighting ends not long after full dawn, when Ear-beard rides an enemy pony out of the center of the fray with not just an ear but an entire head jammed on the edge of his sword. His arm soaked in blood. He turns and faces the battle, roaring defiance, and one by one the enemy drop their swords.
Ryan stares, horrified and unable to move, until Brendawn places a knife in his hand and closes his fingers around the hilt. Ryan looks down at it, completely lost, then back at Brendawn, but Brendawn is already moving, his black robes flaring out in the early morning breeze.
Ryan feels hands at his back; it's Jherard, shoving him forward, forcing him down the hill. Ahead of them, Brendawn is moving among the bodies, harvesting jewelry from the dead and putting the mortally wounded out of their misery.
When they get inside the battle lines, Ryan stumbles and almost falls, overwhelmed by the smell of blood. Jherard catches his arm and shakes him, hard, then wades in after Brendawn. Ryan staggers after them, falling a couple of times as survivors shove past him on their way up the hill. He can hear Jon being sick behind him.
The sun is high in the sky before they finish. There are several of their men among the dead, and more among the wounded, including Spenthair and the Giant. Mihall, Ear-beard and Ink-arms come down to gather the bodies for a funeral pyre. Brendawn and Jherard make litters for the injured, and Ryan and Jon help carry them up to where the horses are waiting.
The next day, there is a victory feast. Spenthair, pale but upright, rewards valiant men with land. A week later, Jherard declares the Giant is well enough to be moved, and they, Mihall and Frang set out for their new farm. Ear-beard and Ink-arms stay a few more days, drinking and dancing in the Great Hall at night, but eventually they depart as well.
Ryan and Brendawn return to the still room, Jon settles down to the cow barn, and they all live (mostly) happily ever after.
A couple of years later, Spenthair steals a wife, but that is a story for another time.
Jon is quiet as they go up the stairs. He moves slowly and he's breathing hard, but he shakes Ryan off when Ryan tries to help him. They are almost to the landing when Ryan hears the sound of running footsteps and boys yelling. Jon steps out of the way, but Ryan just waits. The boys see them and slow down just enough for Ryan to grab their collars as they barrel past. They fall down in heaps of untidy limbs. Ryan ignores their outraged protests, boxes their ears and dispatches them to the kitchen to fetch hot water and food.
The food arrives first: a plate of bread, cheese and sliced meats, and two tankards of rich brown ale. Jon sits on the bed and sips the ale while Ryan drags the laird's tub out and locates some mostly clean clothes for Jon to change into once he's bathed.
The boys finally arrive with buckets of hot water and Ryan is quick to fill the tub, conscious of Jon's eyes on him. He sends the boys off for more water, then helps Jon out of his clothes and into the bath. Jon grumbles a little, but sighs happily once he's actually in the water. Ryan brings the tray of food over and busies himself with putting Jon's things aside to be washed -- or, better, burned -- and turning down the bed. He has so many questions he doesn't know which one he wants to ask first.
He's debating between "Where have you been?" and "What happened to you?" when the door swings wide and Spenthair walks in, flanked by the Giant and the Whippet. They are all wearing swords and Spenthair shows no signs of having fallen into a thorn bush only the day before. Ryan stands in front of the tub, arms stretched out, and prays Spenthair doesn't decide to just run him through.
Spenthair arches one eyebrow and waves Ryan aside. Ryan swallows hard and stands his ground. The Giant steps forward and Spenthair grabs the back of his tunic and yanks him back, gargling something sharp. The Giant flushes but offers no reply.
Spenthair turns back to Ryan and raises his arms, showing flat, open palms. There's noise behind them and Spenthair moves just enough for two boys to come through with more hot water. The Whippet grabs one of them on their way out and gargles something -- he has the same odd accent as Jherard -- and a moment later the boy comes back with three low stools. Spenthair sits down, followed, slowly, by the others, and Ryan reluctantly steps out of the way.
Spenthair gargles a question, and Jon once again gargles back at him. Jon speaks slowly and stumbles over some of the words, but Spenthair still seems to understand.
Ryan only understands bits and pieces of the conversation that follows, but he can tell the news continues to be bad from the way Spenthair's expression darkens. He also catches the word for "men" and "horses," and if Jon's gestures are anything to go by, there are archers, too.
The Whippet leans forward and asks a few questions too, but Jon's answers to those take longer, and he seems to struggle more for the words. Also his voice is starting to sound strained. Ryan is gathering himself to interrupt when the Whippet sits back, apparently satisfied. Spenthair gives Ryan one last appraising look, then stands up and leads the men away.
Jon exhales loudly and sinks down into the water. Ryan stands still, listening, then goes and closes the door. When he comes back, Jon is swaying to his feet, trying to get out of the tub. Ryan rushes to help him, and manages to get him into a clean robe with a minimum of fuss and swearing.
Jon sits down on the edge of the bed and eats some of the sliced meat. Ryan perches on one of the stools and twists his hands in his robes. Jon straightens up and tries to look at Ryan, but Ryan can tell he's all but asleep. Ryan takes a deep breath, stands up, and moves all of the dishes onto the trunk at the end of the bed. Then he pushes Jon's good shoulder until he falls over onto the pillows.
Jon coughs and sighs and curls in on himself, and Ryan covers him in sleeping furs. His questions can wait. Jon starts to snore softly. Ryan drapes another fur over his shoulders, then moves around as quietly as he can, eating the rest of the food and emptying the bath.
Jon sleeps for the rest of the afternoon. Ryan hovers nearby for a time, brushing Brendawn's robes and pressing stray boys into service changing the rushes in all of the rooms on the second floor, but it soon becomes clear Jon is unlikely to wake unless the Last Trump sounds. Ryan tucks the furs more closely around Jon's shoulders, dismisses the boys to the stables, and makes his way to the still room.
He passes through the courtyard on the way, and while it is, as usual, full of men with swords, something doesn't look right. Ryan stops and scans the ranks again, and it becomes clear: Spenthair, the Whippet, the Giant and several of the other men are gone. The drills are being led by hunched old men -- one of them is missing an ear -- and most of the people wielding the swords are half-grown boys.
Ryan smoothes his hands over his robes and walks a little faster.
When he does get to the still room he finds Brendawn and Jherard hunched over a cauldron wearing matching thoughtful expressions. Whatever they are cooking smells vile. The second interloper is still at the table, and sorting the enormous pile of greenery from earlier. He's unbearably slow about it, though, running his fingers over every root and stem like they're made of spun gold. Ryan's knife is laying beside him on the table.
Ryan steps forward to grab it and the interloper pins Ryan's wrist to the table in one sudden, sharp movement and gargles angrily at Ryan. Ryan cries out in surprise and a little pain, and both Brendawn and Jherard turn around.
"Frang," Jherard says, followed by some gargling, and the interloper lets go of Ryan's hand.
Ryan grabs the kife with one hand and goes to smack Frang in the head with the other, but Jherard catches his hand mid-swing and gargles sharply at him. Ryan shifts, trying to yank his hand free, and Frang stands up, clearly ready for a fight.
"Stop," Brendawn says, loudly, and they all freeze.
Brendawn shoves Frang back down on the bench, then walks around Jherard to prize his hand off of Ryan's wrist. Then he takes the knife from Ryan's other hand and stuffs it up his sleeve. Ryan grits his teeth against a protest.
Brendawn makes an aggravated noise and elbows Jherard out of the way. Then he picks a handful of greenery up off the table and holds it out to Frang. Frang frowns and his nostrils flare, and he misses Brendawn's hand when he reaches for it. Brendawn lowers his hand to the table with a gentle thump. Frang's expression clears, and he seems to find Brendawn's hand easily.
Ryan flushes, shame and irritation vying for dominance. How was he supposed to know Frang was blind? Brendawn gives Ryan a stern look and he apologizes as he knows he is supposed to do. Frang's knit fleetingly, and then he stands up and offers Ryan his hand. Ryan clasps it as briefly as propriety will allow -- it's then that he notices Frang is also missing a finger -- and they both sit down at the table.
Jherard is still giving him a baleful look. Ryan hunches his shoulders and scowls at a clump of weeds. He's grateful when Brendawn sends him to the scullery to wash out some cauldrons. He scrubs them thoroughly, cursing Jherard and Frang and every last one of their brethren, until the cauldrons are gleaming and his hands are red and sore.
Ryan does feel a bit better for venting his spleen, though. When he gets back to the still room Jherard's good humor also seems to have been restored. Even Frang is singing softly to himself as he peels apart leaves and stems.
Brendawn takes the cauldrons from Ryan with a smile, and Ryan relaxes further. He doesn't care for the opinion of interlopers, but he does not want Brendawn to turn him out of the still room, or worse, the castle.
After that Brendawn gives Ryan a series of errands that require him to run all over the castle. He's on his way back from one of them when he hears the clatter of hooves in the courtyard. Ryan leans out a window to investigate and sees that Spenthair and the men have come back. The Giant swings down off his horse with ease. The Whippet is slower, however, and even from a distance Ryan can see he's favoring one arm.
Ryan watches for a moment longer, then makes his way to the still room. He opens the door and finds Spenthair and a few of the other men are already there. Frang is moving between them, helping them out of their armor. Brendawn and Jherard are following in Frang's wake, gargling at each other over various scrapes, cuts and bruised limbs. None of the men seem especially badly wounded, but Spenthair looks exhausted.
Ryan sets the jug he had been sent to retrieve on the sideboard, and goes to help Frang. They're struggling with a particularly stubborn set of leather ties when the door slams open and the Giant strides in, dragging the Whippet behind him.
"Mihall?" Jherard says, abandoning the man he's working on and walking across the room to help the Whippet to a bench, gargling anxiously the whole time.
The Giant gargles back at Jherard, but his accent is even stranger than Jherard's and Mihall's, and Ryan can't understand him at all.
Brendawn apparently can, though, because he looks up from the bandage he's tying with wide, startled eyes and gargles a question at Spenthair. There's a long pause before Spenthair answers him, and Ryan can sense the other men are uneasy.
Brendawn starts to ask another question. Jherard interrupts him, gargling angrily at Spenthair, but the Giant interrupts him just as quickly. Jherard narrows his eyes and draws himself up, and all of the men go very still. Mihall mumbles something Ryan can't hear, but it makes Jherard deflate and turn to him. His mouth is set in a tight line, though, and Ryan can tell the argument isn't over.
After that the room is unnaturally quiet, the silence broken by the occasional hiss of pain or muffled curse word. Ryan goes where he's bid, helping both Brendawn and Jherard. He keeps a close eye on Brendawn, who is curled in on himself in a way that Ryan has only seen a few times before, and has come to dread. Gradually the noise level of the room rises again.
It is well past dark by the time the last of the men have been seen to and sent off to the Great Hall to eat. Even Brendawn is starting to wilt, hiding big yawns in his sleeve as he writes in one of his big black books. Ryan is itching to look in on Jon but unwilling to leave if Brendawn might still need him. He makes a production of folding bandages and stacking pots of salve until Brendawn stops writing and waves him off.
When Ryan does get upstairs, he finds Mihall has been put to bed with Jon, and the Giant is standing guard over both of them.
Ryan steps closer to the bed, eying the Giant warily, but the Giant is carving something out of bone and doesn't seem to be perturbed by his presence. Mihall appears to be sleeping. Ryan moves quietly so as not to disturb him.
This time Jon wakes when Ryan touches his shoulder. He accepts a cup of water and drinks it slowly. When he finishes that Ryan helps him stand and walk to the necessary room. Jon moves slowly, still clearly in pain, but much steadier than he was earlier in the day.
When they come back, Ryan settles Jon on the bed and gives him another cup of water and a couple of pieces of bread from the tray that someone had probably brought up for Mihall. Jon nibbles at them, telling his story between bites.
Evidently the reivers had come through the sheepfold, too numerous and moving too fast for Jon to sound the alarm before he was knocked out. They carried him away with the sheep and held him captive for a time. Eventually he managed to escape.
Jon pauses to take a drink of water, and Ryan realizes the Giant has stopped carving and watching them intently. Jon follows Ryan's gaze and shrugs one shoulder, then resumes his story. Once free, Jon had started for home, traveling with some people he met on the road. They were within a days' walk of the castle when they were attacked by raiders.
Jon and a few of the men in the party had tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. Jon and the rest of the men that weren't killed in the struggle were taken back to the raiders' camp. Most of the captives had been driven out of their homes further north; they were killed outright. Somehow the raiders had figured out Jon was local, and settled on forcing information out of him.
Jon stops again, and took a deep drink of water. Behind him, Mihall huffs in his sleep and rolls over. Ryan stands up and paces back and forth a couple of times, aware the Giant is watching him. Jon sets the cup down and rubs his eyes before he continues.
The raiders rode out several times -- scouting missions, as far as Jon could tell -- before they struck camp and began marching towards the castle. One night they had all gotten very drunk and careless, and Jon and a few of the others had managed to escape.
The other men had decided to take their chances on the road, while Jon hid in a tree, barely breathing for fear the raiders would hear him. He stayed in the tree for the better part of a day; by the time he started to climb down, his fingers were numb and shaky. Halfway down he disturbed a pheasant, or some other bird, and was so startled himself that he let go and fell the rest of the way. He had been creeping around the castle walls looking for a place to sneak in when Mihall and the Giant found him.
Jon takes another deep drink of water and rolls his shoulders, his expression tightening in pain. Ryan looks down at his knees, vaguely ashamed and annoyed for the second time that day. When he looks up again, Jon and the Giant are both looking at him. Jon's expression is amused and inquisitive, and the Giant's glare is as baleful as ever.
"What about you?" Jon asks, kicking at Ryan's ankles. "What adventures did you have?"
Ryan shrugs one shoulder and looks at the floor. Jon prods him again, the amusement in his expression dimming. Ryan sighs and tells him about hiding with the pigs. Jon's grin broadens when Ryan tells him how one of the bigger sows had driven off a raider, and he start to laugh for real when Ryan tells him about waking up covered in grunting piglets and mud.
Ryan skips over the dead bodies in the courtyard and the accidentally locking himself in the mastiff cage. He also doesn't mention how he almost ran away, mainly because the Giant is pretty clearly still listening to their conversation. Ryan is halfway through describing the first feast when the door to the room pops open and Spenthair comes in.
He's leaning heavily on a smaller, dark-haired man that Ryan vaguely recognizes from his forays into the courtyard. The Giant stands up, hand on his sword-head, and they gargle at each other for a few moments.
Ryan uses the distraction to hustle Jon up and out of the room and down to the cow barn. Jon is still very slow, and by the time they get there Ryan can see beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Ryan finds a spot between the two friendliest cows and makes a extra plump pile of hay for them to sleep on. Jon settles down easily enough, and Ryan tells the feast story until they both fall asleep.
Two days pass. Jon stays in the barn most of the time, alternating between helping some of the girls tend the cows and feeding the cats that come begging for milk. Ryan goes back to the still room and is pressed into service next to Frang, chopping, peeling and grinding plants for Brendawn and Jherard.
Meanwhile, the men are still drilling in the courtyard, and there is a steady stream of visitors to the still room with blackened eyes and bloodied noses. Neither Jherard nor Brendawn make any comment. Ryan keeps his head down and chops as slowly as he dares, straining to catch enough words to figure out what is going on. He can tell the men are restless and eager to fight.
On the afternoon of the third day, Ryan is in the courtyard, filling a bucket with water, when two riders come through the gates. One is fair, and almost as big as the Giant; Ryan thinks there might be ears tied into his beard. The other one is smaller and dark, and the dark, swirling lines on his arms are bright against his pale skin.
Ear-beard bellows a greeting, and they dismount. Two boys come forward to take their horses, and Spenthair and Mihall leave the line of drilling men. There is a good deal of happy shouting, and then the four of them go into the great hall. Ryan picks up his bucket and tries to follow them, but he doesn't get very far before the Giant catches his arm and shoves him towards the still room.
Ryan stumbles, almost spilling the water. The Giant gargles something at the men and the sound of metal crashing against metal chases Ryan all the way down the corridor.
That night there is a feast, including sweet mead and a freshly slaughtered cow. Ryan is lightheaded with drink when the Great Hall fills with the roar of a massive drum, silencing all conversation. Jon's eyes get very wide. Spenthair stands up, and Ryan falls off the bench when he tries to turn around and look at him. No-one seems to notice, so Ryan stays on the floor, clinging to the rushes and waiting for his head to stop ringing.
The drums stop when Spenthair starts talking. He speaks for a long time and is often interrupted by the cheering of the men. When he finishes the hall erupt in hollering and stamping, which only dies down when Ear-beard gets up and walks to the center of the room.
He talks for a while, too, and Ryan thinks he might be telling a story. At one point he unties one of the ears and holds it up, gargling loudly, and the hall erupts again.
The people around Ryan start to move, and Ryan heaves himself back up on the bench just as the drums start up again. Several more men join Ear-beard -- Mihall, the Giant, and Ink-arms among them -- and the drumbeat picks up as they draw their swords. They raise them above their heads for a moment, then, to Ryan's astonishment, they bell out into a circle and start dancing.
Somewhere behind them, Brendawn is singing. After one verse the rest of the hall (including Ryan) joins in. A couple of verses later he falls off the bench again, but this time he doesn't get up.
The next thing Ryan knows Ear-beard is kicking him in the ribs. He kicks back in protest and tries to roll away. Ear-beard just leans down and hauls him up by his robes, shakes him a couple of times, and drops him on a bench. Ryan presses a hand to his head, trying to ease the throbbing, but it doesn't work. Jon, slumped next to him, looks equally unhappy.
Ryan's noisily sick twice, and then Brendawn appears out of nowhere and shoves a mug of ale in his face. Ryan takes it and drinks it slowly, watching Ear-beard kick more people awake. The hall empties out slowly. When Brendawn leaves Ryan follows him, and Jon trails behind both of them.
They go out into the courtyard, where it is colder, and also still dark. There are a few torches burning, casting odd shadows against the faces of the men. There are horses everywhere, stamping and snorting in the chill. Brendawn shoves Ryan and Jon toward two small ponies. Ryan hauls himself up into the saddle with difficulty.
A few minutes later Spenthair rides past them, and they fall in behind him in a disorganized column. The rest of the barbarians follow them on foot. The men are quiet; Ryan, still muzzy from sleep, is confused but grateful. He curls his fingers in his pony's rough mane and does his best not to fall off.
They ride until they come to the edge of the wood. The men without horses glide past them in silent waves, melting into the trees. The rest dismount and lead their ponies into the forest. Ryan slides off his pony and follows Brendawn and Jon, conscious of every leaf crunching and twig cracking beneath his feet.
Brendawn stops them a few yards from the treeline. It's still mostly dark, but there is enough light for Ryan to see the enemy camp spread out on the field on the other side of the trees. There are one or two people moving around, and he can see the faint sparks of a fire.
The men around him shift into a line. For one awful moment Ryan thinks he might be supposed to join them, but when Jon steps forward, Brendawn yanks him back, hissing angrily.
They wait. Spenthair and Ear-beard walk past the line, stopping periodically to cuff men into place. At some point Jherard appears out of the gloom and stands a few yards down from Brendawn, hands tucked into his sleeves and his eyes on the ground. Brendawn looks over at him; Jherard raises his head briefly and meets Brendawn's gaze, but they don't speak.
Spenthair and Ear-beard walk back to the center of the line and draw their swords. The horses whuffle and stamp. Spenthair holds his left hand up, three fingers extended towards the sky. He lowers them one at a time; when the last one comes down, Brendawn and Jherard let out an unearthly noise, and the men in the line take off through the trees and scream their way down the hill.
Brendawn starts walking closer to the treeline while the echoes of his voice fade, and waves at Ryan and Jon to follow him. They watch the battle. Ryan loses his familiar faces to the bloody, muddy scrum fairly quickly, and the crash of steel is almost deafening. At some point the campfire leaps its bounds and the field becomes dotted with pockets of flames. The fighting ends not long after full dawn, when Ear-beard rides an enemy pony out of the center of the fray with not just an ear but an entire head jammed on the edge of his sword. His arm soaked in blood. He turns and faces the battle, roaring defiance, and one by one the enemy drop their swords.
Ryan stares, horrified and unable to move, until Brendawn places a knife in his hand and closes his fingers around the hilt. Ryan looks down at it, completely lost, then back at Brendawn, but Brendawn is already moving, his black robes flaring out in the early morning breeze.
Ryan feels hands at his back; it's Jherard, shoving him forward, forcing him down the hill. Ahead of them, Brendawn is moving among the bodies, harvesting jewelry from the dead and putting the mortally wounded out of their misery.
When they get inside the battle lines, Ryan stumbles and almost falls, overwhelmed by the smell of blood. Jherard catches his arm and shakes him, hard, then wades in after Brendawn. Ryan staggers after them, falling a couple of times as survivors shove past him on their way up the hill. He can hear Jon being sick behind him.
The sun is high in the sky before they finish. There are several of their men among the dead, and more among the wounded, including Spenthair and the Giant. Mihall, Ear-beard and Ink-arms come down to gather the bodies for a funeral pyre. Brendawn and Jherard make litters for the injured, and Ryan and Jon help carry them up to where the horses are waiting.
The next day, there is a victory feast. Spenthair, pale but upright, rewards valiant men with land. A week later, Jherard declares the Giant is well enough to be moved, and they, Mihall and Frang set out for their new farm. Ear-beard and Ink-arms stay a few more days, drinking and dancing in the Great Hall at night, but eventually they depart as well.
Ryan and Brendawn return to the still room, Jon settles down to the cow barn, and they all live (mostly) happily ever after.
A couple of years later, Spenthair steals a wife, but that is a story for another time.
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