Author Note: Thank you for the reviews. Yes, I'm sorry I disappointed a reader or two, but I have other plans for Briar's heart. Mwahaha. And as far as the girls go, they may be making an appearance in the fic, and they may not. I don't want to give anything away...
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A nineteen year-old Briar Moss dipped his reed pen into the small pot of ink that sat at the upper right hand corner of his desk, then paused. He looked away from the piece of parchment on his desk and out of the window of his study. Right outside, the gardens of Kesterly Fiefdom stretched towards the sandy dunes in the distance. Birds were already awake, fetching their breakfast from the garden's menu of insects, calling to one another in soft trills.
He rolled the pen between his fingers. The letter in front of him was for Daja. She had written him on her return to Summersea with Frostpine and Evvy, and had threatened to send him a bracelet charmed to repel young women if he did not send an answer in a timely fashion. The bracelet had yet to arrive, but Briar was quite sure it was on it's way presently to Reiland. Her letter had reached him three months ago, and he was only seeing to it now.
Now that I have given you sufficient reason to thrash me with that stick of yours when I return, I'd like to ask you a few favors. I'm sending an Reilish ivy stem with my letter. Please see that Rosethorn receives it. I've once again acted against her wishes in sending her a birthday gift. This should arrive before the Midsummer celebrations. I've also enclosed a packet for Sandry. It is the designs of the latest fashion worn here in court, yet again, and I am sure the young ladies of Emelan would be glad to keep up to date with their wardrobe.
I'll be grabbing the last ship home before the winter snows begin to fall here. My roots won't be able to get through the cold for another year. I'll enjoy Reiland's summer and high tail it.
Best Wishes, Mate
Briar
He set his pen to the side and dusted over the fresh ink to keep it from smearing across the parchment. Satisfied that he hadn't missed anyone or incurred anyone's wrath but Daja's, Briar folded his letter in threes and closed it with a green wax seal.
There was a small knocking from behind the door to his main room. Placing the letter in a drawer so he wouldn't lose it, Briar got up from his chair and answered it. Two servants brought in his breakfast, a cup of Reilish tea accompanied with the usual crumpets and jam. They were efficient in setting it next to his bed table and curtsied.
"If there's anything else you'll be needing, Wizard Moss." inquired the senior of the two.
He grimaced inwardly. "No, really, that's quite enough. Thank you very much, Alla. Maryanna." Briar held the door open for them as they curtsied again and left, eyes to the floor. He called out after them as quietly as he could, "And there's no need to come and turn my bed down while I'm out today. I'll be fine, really."
His saying that was somewhat in vain. Briar told the girls every day that they needn't come and fix his bed for him. He was nineteen. At Discipline, he and the girls had made their own bed every morning or Rosethorn would want to know why they hadn't. Alright, he admitted Alla and Maryanna were much better at fixing the sheets and pillows than he was, but Briar was still uncomfortable with the idea of personal servants, even after two years among the Reilish highborn. The only reason he allowed them to bring him his breakfast was that Lady Olador was appalled when he had asked to be shown to the households kitchens his first night of his stay at the fief.
Walking over to his bed, he busied himself with his breakfast. He had promised Lord Kesterly to look over his precious apple orchard. Kesterly apples were popular throughout Reiland, as popular as Kesterly's Lord was disliked. He was a fussy and stingy older man, and was constantly worrying about the condition of his fruit. Yesterday, Lord Kesterly was throughly convinced that the northern portion of the orchard had apple rust, a disease that dried apple trees to the core of the trunk, rendering the tree fruitless, but not before spreading to any apple tree near it. The subject would not be dropped at dinner until Briar had offered up his services.
The stupid toad has nothing to worry. His own head gardener is a man with a head on his shoulders, but he may as well be an apprentice gardener while I'm here. I'm supposed to be studying his apples, not playing doctor. Briar grumbled as he dressed.
There was another knocking on his door, which he answered half-heartedly. He brightened when his guest turned out to be Rubert, the head gardener that Lord Kesterly was ignoring. It was hard not to like and trust Rubert. He had no hard feeling against Briar's being in Kesterly.
"Are you even awake yet, Rubert?" Briar joked as he followed the man out to the garden entrance.
"Since I've had my cup of tea, I've never been chipper." The large grin on his face was proof of that. Rubert was an easy, laid back man. Briar had come to discover that as long as Rupert had two things, his tea and his garden, life was perfect. "Right oh, so where does my Lord want you slave today?"
Briar shaded his eyes with his hand from the sunlight. "He says the northern section off the orchard has succumbed to apple rust."
"Oh. That bit of a brown on some of the trees? They'll probably just parched some, that's all. It's been an unusually dry spring this year." Rubert told him.
"I noticed." Briar replied dryly. Tris, being a weather witch, loved rain, particularly large storms. Any plant mage loved rain; it was nature taking care of watering. But after his first spring in Reiland, he had discovered that there could be a thing as "too much" rain.
"I'll bet a mug of ale on that 'un." the gardener laughed jovially.
Briar patted the gardener on the shoulder. "It's yours. Just show me to Lord Kesterly's poor trees."
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"As I was saying to Fredryck earlier this evening, it would be so wonderful to go up north for the summer. The Norsh lands are so green during this time of year, even if they have no sense of culture or court." Lady Olador was announcing to the large dining hall during supper.
She doesn't need to yap so loud. Briar thought to himself, agitated. It just her, Lord Bag, and me. The Norsh can probably hear her from here and are running in fear of their sanity.
"Have you been to the Norsh lands during your studies here in Reiland?" questioned Lady Olador. She batted her long lashes in Briar's direction and flashed him with a smile full of yellow teeth.
He smiled hesitantly back. "I was planning on going up north for part of the summer, before I return to Emelan."
"You are of course welcome to come with u-"
She was interrupted by a deafening clash from the direction of the servants quarters. There was a muffled sound of someone shouting. Seconds later, the head of the servants walked stiffly into dining hall and curtsied.
"What on earth was that din?" Lady Olador demanded, her knuckles white around the napkin she clenched in her hand.
"Excuseme, my Lord. My Lady. Wizard Moss." she said huffily. "The disturbance has been seen to. We beg pardon for interruption.
"I should very well hope so." the noblewoman sniffed, daintly hold the napkin to her heart now. "Be off with you. Oh, that gave me such a fright..."
He endured the through the rest of the meal, which unfortunately had so such interruptions through the rest of it. The Kesterly's rambled on and on. Tonight, Kesterly had asked Briar to inspect the buds of the apple trees. He hadn't seen any on his walks around his estate this morning, and was in what Sandry would have called a "tither," sure that last month's frost had killed of this year's crop.
"Alla." he asked, finding the servant dusting the tapestries out in the halls. "Could you bring me a kettle of hot water please? I'd be very thankful if you did it as soon as possible."
"Is my lord ill? Would you like a Healer?" she asked, eyes wide.
The plant mage waved her suggestion away. "Just a headache."
"Tea, then?"
"I have my own special brew in my room. Hot water will be all." he asked for the second time.
She curtsied. "As the wizard wishes."
Briar proceeded to go back to his room, expecting to be able to lie down on his bed in the much needed silence of his room until his hot water arrived. The fireplace in the corner was being tended to by a servant girl he didn't recognize. She gasped when he entered, the coals she'd been spreading around rolling out of place.
"Forgive me, sir. I didn't finish this earlier today, sir. I apologize, sir." she said hurriedly, poking the fire back into place. Her face was hidden in her wavy hair, she kept her head down like many of the other servants of the fief.
"Please, don't worry about it. And no "sir" either, if you can help it." he asked, walking over towards her.
The moment she saw him heading her way, she scrambled to her feet and bolted towards his open door. Quick on his feet, Briar slid next to her and caught her wrist. She turned wide, green eyes on him, the picture of a frightened deer.
"I apologize. I didn't mean to scare you." he told her quickly, dropping her wrist. She fled out the door past Alla, who nearly dropped the silver tray she was carrying. Briar came to her rescue, taking the tray him and setting on his bed table. "Thank you, Alla."
"Your welcome, Wizard Moss. Will you be needing anything else tonight?"
Briar brushed his dark curls backward. "No, I shouldn't. I have large fire thanks to your friend who just left. Please tell I'm sorry for frightening her."
"Yes, sir." She curtsied and turned to leave his room.
"Oh, Alla?" Alla turned and curtsied again. Her knees must hurt by the end of the day. "What was her name?"
"Parsley, sir. She's a member of the cleaning staff."
"Ah, well, thank you. Have a good night." he said, going towards his tea brews and looking for the willowbark tea.
"Yes, sir."
After she had taken leave and he had a cup of hot tea in hand, Briar laid back on his bed and stared at the fire burning merrily in the corner. Most of the servants had names origin to Reiland or the Norsh people. Parsley was an herb, one cooks usually used for flavoring or as garnish for a dish. But he had never heard it used as a name.
For moment, I believed she thought I would hit her.
