A Bit of Areluin History
Summary:
After his Apprenticing is complete, Will, now a full-fledged Ranger with big responsibilities of his own, drops by his former mentor's house for a few days visit before returning to his duties where he learns a bit of Areluin History that he didn't know of before.
After practicing for some hours, swapping between his bow and both knives, Will decided to call it a day. The sun was beginning to set now, throwing orange and pink hues across the large expanse of darkening blue sky above, and in the thickness of the trees, it was almost too dark to see.
He retrieved his last arrow from the target he had been shooting at, inspecting it carefully before deciding it was still good, and replaced it in his quiver. He checked to make sure his knives were set securely in their sheaths and picked up his bow where it leaned against a nearby tree, setting off up the small incline to the quaint cottage which was bathed in orange light from the setting sun. It was getting closer now to supper-time, and Will was more than hungry.
The moment he entered the cottage, he was bombarded with the scent of roasted meat, rich broth or stew, and freshly baked bread. Will's stomach growled angrily and he smiled at it. 'Just a little longer now.' He thought, propping his bow against the wall and hanging his quiver on a peg. He removed his cloak as well, hanging it beside his quiver and bow. The small cottage retained heat well, and he felt overly-warm in the thick cloth.
"Good practice, Will?" Halt called as a greeting, chopping up some vegetables and dropping them into the stew pot beside him.
"Good enough as any." Will replied, glancing around the room before settling himself in a chair at the table in the kitchen, the better to converse with his friend. "I hope that's supper you're making." He added, nodding at the pot Halt was replacing over the fire.
"It'll be ready once the softer vegetables are cooked through." Halt said, stirring the contents of the pot.
Will nodded, sighing and sinking lower into his chair. It had been a long but enjoyable training, and he was beat. A book was lying open on the table and he tilted his head, closing the cover partially to get a better look at the title. 'A History of Aerluin: Volume IV' was written in bold gold lettering across the soft blue leather binding.
"Areluin history?" Will asked, remembering all too well the kinds of studying he'd done as an apprentice ranger, and that book had not been counted among the many he had searched and scoured for information. It didn't look that old or used either, the colour was still rich and the pages looked too clean to be included on the old ranger's shelf for long.
"Surprised?" Halt said, turning to face Will. He moved forward and sank into the chair opposite Will, sighing heavily. He pointed to the book lying between them. "It's supposed to be a full account of Areluin's early years, when she first became her own kingdom. Pauline got me a whole set as a wedding present. I guess it means I'm supposed to stop prowling around playing ranger for Crowley and start spending more time here being a domestic man."
Will smiled at the obvious displeasure in the older man's words. "Yes, I didn't recall using this book in my studies to become a Ranger."
"No, of course not!" Halt snorted. "The only books you even thought about stuffing your nose in, were the ones I made you read under threat of a good thrashing, or the loss of your bow."
Will grinned. "I made it fine without those stuffy old things, anyway."
"Stuffy?" Halt raised an eyebrow, and Will felt his grin widen.
"Stuffy." He repeated with a decisive nod. "They're always so boring. No wild stories about knights fighting in heroic battles, saving kingdoms, or rescuing pretty maids who always turn out to be a Princess. There wasn't even one single story-book on your shelf!"
"Ah-ah. There was." Halt said, wagging his finger at Will. "Still is, in fact."
Will looked doubtfully at him. He had checked the shelf countless times before, and not once had he come across a book that even sounded remotely like a good story. Halt stood and crossed over to the bookshelf in the adjourning room, quickly scanning it's titles before selecting one and pulling it free. Returning to the table, he passed the book to Will.
"That's been on that shelf since before Gilan was even thought of." He said, pointing to the book and sitting back down as Will inspected the faded green cloth binding, and squinted at the nearly gone fancy lettering engraved on it.
" 'The Queens of Girdlesbride'?" Will asked incredulously, glancing up at Halt. "What's that?"
Halt leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow at Will, looking every bit as smug as a cat who had just successfully pulled a nasty trick on the dog and gotten away scott-free. The look was infuriating Will, who narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Halt, but said nothing. He tried staring down the older ranger, but decided that his plan wasn't working and gave up, carefully the cover of the book, peeking at the front page inside.
An intricate painting of several women in a large circle, each posed as if warding off the thorny vined wall around them, were carefully painted on the page. 'The Queens of Girdlesbride' was woven between them. Will's face turned beet-red once he realized the women weren't depicted wearing clothes, and that there were scrawled names on each of their stomachs. He quickly shut the book and looked up accusingly at Halt, who was still watching him with that infuriatingly smug look on his face. Will cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"This isn't Areluin, is it?" He asked, feeling confident enough that no such book existed of this type that was Areluin-made.
"Yes, it is." Halt answered, and Will could almost hear the laughter in his voice. "I bought it here, in Redmont Fief. It's my third copy, and the only copy ever to exist with the writers and artists signatures in the back. I aquired those when I conviently rescued them from highway bandits. There's also a list of names of all the women the book is about, courtesy of the author, who was only too happy to convey the information to me on the promise that I not divulge certain secrets of some of his…other works. I later tracked them down and got all those women to sign the book as well. Those are the signatures on their charaters stomachs on the front page."
Will looked absolutely petrified at Halt, who almost couldn't restrain his amusement. Reigning in the laughter threatening to explode at his former apprentices horrified expression, Halt leaned forward and tapped the books cover, drawing Will's attention back to the plain green book.
"You know, the book is better than the front cover. It's just artwork, Will." He said, and flipped the book open to a random page.
Will paled and his eyes widened as they fell upon the page. Then he relaxed, seeing nothing implicating his initial thoughts about the book after seeing the artwork. He looked at Haly questioningly over the pages.
"It's a story about thirty beautiful women, each with a special gift of their own who take part in a deadly game of cloak and dagger to find a killer who's out to kill all the pretty faces in Girdlesbride, a large Fief down near the southern-most borders of Areluin. It's supposed to be based on an actual event that occurred hundreds of years ago, but the writer used the thirty most beautiful women in Redmont as his heroines, rather than the women in Girdlesbride."
Halt turned back to the front cover artwork, just inside the book, and pointed to one of the women.
"That one there's Gertude Haverstock. She was the wife of a tailor, Miles Haverstock. They both died as traitors to the king, later on."
He pointed to the woman just to Gertude's right.
"That one's Melbine Stole, a noble-woman. She's about as stuck-up as they come, but she's got excellent tastes in fine winery. She later married a cobbler by the name of Truance Dunner. This is Lettie Lewitt, a cook's daugher. Not only very good in the kitchen, but she's a fantastic mother. She got quite big and married a courier. Here's Jules Ferner, wife of Walter Ferner, the blacksmith who improved the battle-blade, making it lighter and more effective in battle. I got the honour of testing out one of his blades once, almost losing an arm in the process. Beside her is Cherry Cole, wife to a pig farmer, Nathan Cole. Raised very nice hogs, and she had quite a collection of children. Twenty or so, if I recall correctly."
"Twenty children?!" Will exclaimed.
"Oh, yes. You can imagine how pleased she was. Cherry loved children." Halt said, then moved his finger to the next woman.
"This beauty is Heather-Belle Canter, a Jeweller. She never married, but raised several orphans. Some of her work was done with Walter Ferner, when he did special, ornamental orders. I still think they had an affair once or twice during those arrangements. Over here is Sable Vales. She was a vicious woman, married to Daniel Vales, a barkeep. I don't know how he could stand being married to that woman. One dinner is enough to send everyone running for their lives. But they never had much trouble at their bar, and had very decent drinks, most of the nobility spent their evenings there. Grew very wealthy too. Here's one you would have liked, I think. Winter McDoughty. Pretty as can be, and as gentle as a butterfly. She was a courier, like Alyss, and probably just as successful. Unfortunately, she fell for one of her jobs and was never seen or heard from again. Ah…..Ruby."
Halt tapped one of the women on the page.
"Ruby Segel. A woman many a man would kill to touch. She was a noble-woman who got around. Only man she ever bedded down with was her eventual husband, Everette Tisdale. I got the pleasure of dancing with her on more than one occasion. Made of with all my money in the process. Not that I minded." Halt added slyly, winking at Will. "She had a way with that mouth of hers that would leave even the most hardened of men weak in the knees."
Will looked incredulously at Halt.
"Did you scandalize with all these women?" He asked, gesturing to the artwork.
"Don't be daft, Will." Halt scoffed. "Didn't I just tell you the only man Ruby slept with was Everette? How are a few dances in a tavern scandalizing? Nobody got to lay a finger on her goods except for Tisdale. A damned shame, if you ask me."
Will shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you." He said.
"If you'd known Ruby, you'd be singing a different tune." Halt said, and tapped yet another woman.
"Here's a precious gem, Penny Fruche. A very soft girl with the brains of a bird. She married seven different men, all of whom wound up killing each other in dueling matches to be the only one married to her. She hung herself at the end of it all. Very sweet girl though. She was best friends with this one, Betty Ensign. A clever girl who eventually talked herself into her own death. Accidently, of course. She died before she could marry, but she was betrothed to some fellow to the north.
Here's the blonde to know, Rachel White. She knew over half of everyone in Remont, and not just as a friend. Pretty famous with the Rangers as well. Crowley could tell you a tale or two about his time with Miss White."
"Crowley?" Will raised his eyebrows. "He knew some of these women as well?"
"Everybody in the Corps knew Rachel White." Halt said, waving his hand. "Nobody cared who had done her in, she was handed around and shared with everyone anyway. No one was too picky when it came to a pretty and willing face."
Will turned white. "You slept with her!" He raised an accusing finger at Halt, who sighed.
"I never said I did, did I?" He said, slapping Will's hand aside.
"You never said you didn't." Will said sullenly. "And you implied that you had."
"Oh, you and you're wild imagination." Halt scoffed. "If I've done half of what everyone says I've done, then I wouldn't be sitting here with the likes of you at my table. Now, are you ready to hear more? Or are you satisfied with only the first twelve women?"
"Go on." Will said reluctantly, and Halt moved his finger over the page again.
"This here is Julia Schnell. She ran a small fruit stand in the market place. She had two children and lived with her mother. Her husband was a no-good dog who joined ranks with the local bandits and highwaymen. Here's one you don't want to cross. Rebecca Newont. Nasty temper cleverly hidden behind a sweet demeanor. I happened to pass over her lawn while she was wandering around in her slips, and got caught. I was lucky to get away with my life. As it was, a black-eye and a severely bruised rear made me think twice before crossing her lawn without knowing where she was first again."
Will sniggered, snorting loudly. Halt raised and eyebrow at him.
"You find that funny, do you?"
Will nodded. "I never thought I'd hear of a time when the legendary Ranger Halt got paddled by a woman in her slips while he was sneaking across her yard!"
"I wasn't sneaking." Halt said coldly. "And I was hardly legendary then. Highly doubt sneaking would've helped anyway." He added, turning back to the book and ignoring the loud snorts of laughter from Will.
"Rebecca never married. I doubt there was a man in Areluin who could live with that woman. But Genevieve Slate, now she was a true sweetheart and a rare catch. Her heart was so large, and her affinity for traveling so great, she used to wander all of Areluin with a cart laden with food, and cook for anyone and everyone she came across. She was well-received among the Corps. She was married to a courier, at first, but when news came of his death, she married one of the Rangers. An old horse by the name of Pritcher."
"Wasn't he your mentor?" Will interupted.
Halt looked up at him. "Are you going to interupt me evertime something familiar of decidedly amusing comes up?" He asked.
"Sorry." Will muttered and turned his attention back to the picture. Halt continued, moving his finger to the next woman.
"Wendy Lovuere. Pretty as an angel, with a temperament to match so long as you weren't married into her family. She was one of the richest noble-women in all of Redmont, and died the poorest, after squandering her entire fortune in men. Jelvie Farran, a court-woman. Never got famous, aside from this book, of course. To her right is Jenna Corsen, a cobblers daughter. She dreamed of one day opening a flower shop. She died of illness not long after I got her signature. Sometimes I still wonder if I'm the one who gave it to her.
Over here is a strange one. Xeri Pret. She was a chamber-maid I fancied. I never found out she was married until her husband caught us kissing in the castle grounds. He was one of the high advisors at the time. He made sure he knew if I was in Redmont after that."
Will snorted with laughter, then fell silent when Halt glared at him. He kept quiet until Halt continued.
"Here's Whitney Joul. We were pretty close until she discovered I had no intentions of marrying her. She sicked the kings guards after me, claiming some very false and atrocious stories about some advances I had made towards her. In a court of law, I would have lost miserably. Fortunately, the men who came to teach me a lesson were some very good friends of mine, and we exchanged stories over a tankard at 'The Dry Barrel'.
Venecia Bulliere. Now she was a beautiful woman. Not a man in Areluin who didn't know her personally. She wasn't bad,all things considered, but she snored up a storm that would give even a Skandian a rough time."
This time, Will couldn't contain it. He burst out laughing until his face turned purple from lack of oxygen, and his sides couldn't take any more abuse. Halt stared at him, stony-faced.
"Oh, yes. Ha-ha. Very funny." He said icily. "If you're done now, I'd like to get this over with before supper gets cold."
Once Will had sufficiently recovered, he nodded, and Halt resumed his telling of tales. But not before sending another death-promising glare at Will that promised retribution if he didn't keep quiet. Will did his best to remain straight-faced and serious. A feat failed miserably by the presence of the wide grin that treatened to split his face in two if it got any bigger. Halt silently wished it would.
"Right here is Constance DeCan-"
"It says 'Dee-can'" Will pointed out.
Halt glared at him. "Yes, but it's pronounced 'Deh-Kahn'. I should know, I made the mistake of calling her 'Dee-can' once too many times. She was a school-teacher who knew her way around a class-room, and was very skilled with a yard-stick. She's the only woman I know of who can be considered armed and dagerous with any object with a flat surface."
"Did she smack you?" Will asked, unable to help himself.
"Why don't I demonstrate?" Halt threatened.
"I have a better idea." Will said. "Why don't I keep quiet, and you continue your story of your many failures at catching a woman?"
"Watch it, Treaty." Halt intoned dangerously. "I might forget suddenly that I even know you, and teach you a thing or two about what happens to nosy little sneaks who delve into my personal history."
Will sealed his lips tightly, holding them between his fore-fingers in a sign that he would hold his silence. Halt continued.
"Aleesha Beckett. I never knew her too well. Once I learned her husband was in the Kings court, I gave her a very wide berth. She seemed nice enough though. And here we have Potenia Wyzen. She's decended from the south, over the border. She had one mean streak about her that kept men at bay. I decided then, that I would be the one man in her long history of men to brave her when she raged. Short story even shorter, I never tried to brave another womans wrath unless I was absolutely certain I could handle her. That was when I began keeping my hair short.
This is Deena Saden, an artist. I didn't know then that she painted bodies. Literally. I'm lucky that stuff wasn't permanent, but I did walk around sporting a rather incriminating painting of a couple on my back and chest for a good month or so."
Halt sent Will a withering look as the Ranger sniggered loudly into his hand.
"To Deena's right, we have Sandra Bullocks. Great kisser, lousy house-wife. Not very good with children as I found out later, when she sired three children to Daven Porthouse. A butcher with a very good sense of humour. Sandra's children were raised by their grandmother, Patty Elden. An excellent wash-woman, by the way.
Moving on, we have Ella Dancer and Esther Grey. Twin sisters married to two noble-men who later left them. They could spin a spell over any man who got within ten feet. Not that they did it for very long, they got old fast. And I mean wrinkles and grey hairs, old. And this last one you know. Pauline."
"Your wife?" Will asked in surprise.
"How many Pauline's do you think I know?" Halt asked indignantly, pulling the book away from Will.
"I don't know." Will said. "To be honest, I didn't think you had that much history with women, seeing as how you never seem to be interested in any of them."
"I see." Halt said simply, his face dangerously blank. "Then perhaps I shouldn't tell you about my time before I was a Ranger. You might think I'd made it up."
"I think you made this up." Will said, matter-of-factly.
"Oh, did I now?" Halt raised both his eyebrows.
"Yes." Will said. "Not only did you make all this up, but you skipped a woman. You only got to number twenty-nine."
Halt leaned back in his chair. "Well, Alice Goodwin is a whole other story." He said. "I'm going to need something to eat first."