To A Lady In His Shield

Lightholder Crossroads - Interdistrict Carriage Hub 


 * A small village has sprouted on the edge of the Lightholder River where the cobblestone roads from Fastheld's other prominent districts intersect, in the shadow of Caryas Hill and the majestic gray silhouette of Fastheld Keep - the seat of power for the entire realm.


 * Sutlers, traveling performers and other small-time merchants ply their trades along this main crossroads - competing for space with carriages hauling passengers, couriers rushing important communiques from one district to another, and the soldiers of the Emperor's Blades who regularly patrol the area.


 * On the northwest corner of the intersection, next to the road that twists north toward Lightholder Bridge and the palace, sits a large tavern and inn where weary travelers can refresh themselves.


 * It is a cool evening as the sun sets beyond the horizon to the west. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. Dark puffy clouds hang low in the sky. The following of the six moons are visible in the sky: Dayhunter (crimson/waxing), Stormwatcher (green/waning).

Lucius Nepos stands by the tavern apparently enjoying the ends of his evening meal. On a window ledge is his canteen, temporarily stored there while he smokes his pipe busily and is in the middle of making sure it's properly lit.

Taran rides down from the northern thoroughfare, slumped somewhat in the saddle and rather bundled in his thin cloak for the relatively warm evening. Yet he rides with the steady determination of a man who is not going to slow or stop short of his set goal. Clopping into the square, the dark green hood...pauses, seeing the tavern.

The armoured figure is very intent on keeping his pipeweed properly lit apparently. So intent on it that his focus is completely squared on the man's current activity, hand covering the bowl from the slight breeze as he oncemore lowers his firey stick into it.

Taran studies Lucius a moment longer, and then - pitching his voice to be clearly audible without shouting - calls, "Master Nepos. Light shine, sir."

Lucius Nepos is interrupted rather abruptly from his task - luckily for him, he seems to be finished. He waves the stick so that the flame on the end dissapears, and replaces it in one of his belt's pouches. Similarly, the water skin is put back onto his belt and he looks up at Taran. "Master Bard! Light keep ya. How you doing today?" He walks on over.

"I've had better days," the bard replies, with audible wry humor. "I shall hope you aren't the sort to be jealous; the flowers were just an idle fancy." The hood's tugged back; face bared, the bard seems tired. "I have a message for you. Have you a few moments?"

Varal rests against the wall by the doorway of Lightholder Tavern. His arms are crossed, and he's noticeably alone. He scans the crossroads lazily, looking for something to do. The idle lord seems to be boring of civilization.

"A message for me, eh?" Lucius asks, grinning. He arches an eyebrow and puffs on his smoke with an almost religious fervour. In between his puffing, he manages to say, "You've piqued my interest, Taran. Sure. Is it a public sort of message, or what?"

Taran shakes his head. "Contrary to popular opinion, I *can* be discreet if the situation warrants." He turns his mount down the river path. "We'll take it lightly; come, sir," he says pleasantly. "Alas, 'tis not the sort that is writ down, else my life would be much easier."

"Well, I've played the messageboy for overzealous garrison Captains before, so I know how ye feel. Though this is undoubtedly not an important military secret." Lucius adds with a chuckle, grabbing at his belt and nodding. He moves down the path.

Varal switches the balance of his weight from his shoulders to the balls of his feet, and begins to walk towards Taran and Lucius as soon as he spots the pair of them. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he says from afar, making sure that he's noticed, and not interrupting anything.

Taran looks down at the lord with a laughing smile. "No, my lord," he says. "But I am charged to give this man a message from his lady, in private, and as she is making clothes for me I should think myself most unwise not to heed her wishes." He turns Ablaze down the river path. "I do beg your pardon, my lord. It won't take long."

Varal inclines his head, stepping back. "Of course." He winks at Lucius. "Good luck, Warmaster."

"Heh, Warmaster. Ah, I long for the times to be so simple again." Lucius says, grinning. He winks at Varal, belaying all formality, and walks off with Taran. "From Amalai, eh? I wonder what in the Light she could want that's so urgent."

Under Lightholder Bridge 


 * Green marble arches fronted by the tall sculptures of armored soldiers span this muddy jade width of the Lightholder River, which flows beneath the Lightholder Bridge in the heart of Fastheld's Palace District.


 * The river is about ten feet deep and one hundred yards wide at this point, flanked on either side by embankments that appear to be safe mooring spots.

Taran guides his mount down under the bridge, away from the fishermen. and general traffic. "Do forgive me," he says, dismounting. "But this, t'is no one's business you do not choose to share it with. I'll not fall prey to sharing another's secrets again." He walks around to the wagon drawn behind Ablaze - apparently full of seedlings and pots and slabs of clay - and tugs out a wrapped bundle.

"So I imagine that this message is not actually from my wife, hmm?" The hmm he vocalizes causes smoke to billow out of Lucius's mouth at a fast rate, the man slowly approaching Taran's wagon.

"It is from your Lady," the bard replies with a laugh. "Just not the one you're married to." An object is pulled from the bundle, and presented. "It is *this* Lady, sir. Given to me, to bring to you. And quite a day of it, too."

Lucius Nepos is rather shocked when his shield is suddenly given back to him, to the point where his pipe simply falls out of his mouth and onto the ground. The weed inside likewise falls out, smouldering in the shade. "Who.. who gave this to you?"

Taran shakes his head. "Did I not say I would not share another's secrets?" he says, amused. "Though I do not know how you came to lose her, she was given to me to return to you. There are some quite unpleasant sorts about who wish to have her, as well, but you will doubtless defend her better than I."

"Taran. I /need/ to know who gave it to you. It is not an option, this is something of grave seriousness." Lucius says, eyes narrowing. He leans down to pick up his pipe and brushes the implement off. "I gave it to the great Drake Val'sharax in exchange for him lifting the siege of Crown's Refuge in the Wildlands. /Who/ gave it to you?"

Taran shakes his head again, though there's an understanding sort of regret there. "I do not know that the answer would help you," he says. "Nor would I wish to betray the trust; I have done that too often of late, best of intentions or no. Suffice it that I have no idea how this item came from the claws of a drake to the hands from which I received it. And another drake's servants *want* it, master Nepos. Quite badly."

Lucius Nepos sighs, running his free hand over the combination of rough and smooth contours that make up the Lady's Aegis. He stops at the Wildstone eyes, smiling, then looks at the Bard. "It must have been grave business, then, yet I do not know why I have it in my possession or what exactly to do with it. You say another Drake's servants want it badly?"

"Badly enough to kill and burn," the bard replies with a nod. "I may request lessons in combat from you, master Nepos. If I am to be delivering such dangerous messages, I would like a better chance of surviving the hazards along the road." He holds up his right hand, which looks like it's been burned. "Quite unpleasant sorts."

"Of course, of course. I'm not the most skilled teacher in the world, though I am certainly passable, and my sword fighting is quite decent. What would you learn of me?" Asks Nepos in passing, pulling the shield's strap and slinging it over his armour. He looks comfortable with it in that position. "What happened with that?"

"Lacking a weapon, I tried to punch Shadow," Taran replies dryly, flexing his fingers. "I should be glad I still have a hand, I suppose. I will look into getting a staff, I think, though I'll take what I can get." He tucks the bundle back under its concealment of seedlings and pots and flowers, walking over to his horse. "I cannot *believe* I risked damage to my Lute over it - then again, I couldn't very well lose what I had been charged to carry, either."

"Your Lute is made of seraphite, is it not? If that is the case then it /cannot/ be damaged. Take it from me, who's fought with large beasts and had the Lady's Aegis protect me every time. At least, it cannot be destroyed by anything less than a Drake I'd imagine." Lucius replies, thoughtfully. "What exactly is going on?"

"The strings are Seraphite," the bard nods. "The Lute itself is of wood, though of what kind no one can tell me - not even woodworkers have seen its like. So if it is damaged, I do not think it could be repaired." He absently rubs Ablaze's muzzle, fishing a few sugar lumps from a pocket within his cloak. "As to what is going on...aye, good question. I only hope at some point I'll find an answer to it."

"May I see your Lute please?" Asks Lucius, ignoring the second part.

Taran does so, swinging the Lute by its strap from its usual place against his back, under his cloak, so that the soldier can get a good look at it.

"I've only seen wood like this once. A forester named Kenneth Fionnlagh from Light's Reach had a bow, made of a rare extinct wood called Ebony Steelwood. This isn't the same colour.." Lucius says, running a hand over the instrument. "But it is the same type of wood, I believe. As strong as steel."

"It is precious to me," says the bard. "But not as a weapon. The music of this lute is one of a kind...I would sooner use any other weapon than this. It is meant for the making of music. Though it did crack a skull without so much as a scratch, I do not wish to test its limits."

"Naturally. It is singular, one of a kind. Talk to Mistress Whicker in the Aerie about getting a staff, if I were you. She makes excellent weapons." Lucius replies smartly, nodding. "So.. are these bloody lunatics who attacked you going to be after me, now?"

Taran considers this, and then shrugs. "To be honest, I know not," he says. "The ones who knew I had received it appear to be dead now, and I have not been attacked again. So they may not find out for some time that you have received her back again." His lute is swung back under his cloak again, its strings resting against the bard's back. "Then again, underestimating Shadow is never a wise idea. I think it best to assume you may find people who wish to take the shield from you, yes."

"Lovely. Now I'm /forced/ to travel armoured around the realm. Oh, well, I thank you for the warning and the priceless artifact. Light knows how whoever gave it to you got it back, but they must've had /quite/ the influence." Lucius says, chuckling harshly.

Taran smiles at that, climbing back up into the saddle again. "Such items are not tossed about lightly," he says. "If it is for you, then you are meant to have it. Need there be more to it?"

"Ask the person who gave it to you to please meet me whenever is convenient. By sending a letter first, of course, and preferably in Eastwatch's Cardo. I have many friends there who would help us be near invisible, if that is necessary." Says the soldier with a sense of conclusion in his words. "Thank you again, Taran."

Taran blinks. "You do rather overestimate my skill," he says, shaking his head. "Better to assume that if you were to be met directly, you would have been, I think. If there is more for you to know - I am certain you will receive word, by one means or another." He pats Ablaze's neck. "All right, lad, more road yet tonight. Light keep you, master Nepos." A twitch of his knees, and the horse sets in motion, climbing back out onto the main road.

"Did they get back Master Wolfsbane's warbow, by chance? Since it was given to the Drake at the same time?" Lucius asks in calling.

Taran turns back, eyebrows raised. "My, you lot did have quite the adventure out there, no?" he asks. "I should love to hear sometime how you all came to be heaping such gifts on dragons - but for now it will have to wait. I am sorry, master Nepos. Another time." And on up to the road.

"Hmmf." Lucius is left there to puzzle this whole deal. He puts a fresh bowl of smoke into his pipe as he ponders.

''Return to Season 5 (2007)