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Drabbles
03. Matthias Tunstall
Mastiff

June 19, 249
Queensgrace
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Matthias Tunstall left his unplanned meeting with Count Dewin, Master Elyot, and the Mithran priest feeling wary. He had agreed to their proposition, thinking it would be suspicious if he hadn't. He even let the mage have a lock of his hair without complaint. He'd had to, or he would have jeoparded the whole Hunt. Besides, he didn't even have to pretend to desire the bribes they'd offered.

His thoughts turned to Sabine. Ever since that day they'd met, in the fight at the Barrel's Bottom, Tunstall couldn't get her out of his head. Their romance came as naturally to him as Dog work. He'd come to truly love the lady knight over the last two years.

Still, doubt crept into Tunstall's mind every now and then. How long would it be before Sabine decided that she needed to fulfil her duty as a noble and marry? Tunstall had avoided any talk of marriage, know that they came from two very different, incompatible worlds.

Thinking of Sabine, Tunstall got to missing her, so he made his way up to the ladies' quarters to say goodnight. The climb was difficult on his knees after weeks of being on the road, and the pain began to sour his mood as he ascended. It spoiled more when he was stopped at the entrance by a maid.

"I'm sorry, Guardsman," she said stalwartly, blocking his path. "Countess Aeldra would never allow a man up here with the unmarried ladies. It's unseemly, she'd say."

"Surely the Countess would understand, since the lady and I are part of the traveling group, sent by the Lord Provost himself," Tunstall told her, calling upon Gershom's good name in hopes that it would carry some weight with this woman. It did not.

"She would nay allow it, even if you were sent by Mithros himself."

Tunstall mumbled curses under his breath in Hurdik, suppressing the urge to give this woman a nap tap. As he turned to go, a group of giggling ladies came down the corridor, Sabine at their center. She was listening to one of the young ladies as she told a story. Tunstall didn't catch any of it, his eyes on Sabine. When she saw him, she stopped and gave him a warm smile.

"Guardsman Tunstall? What are you doing up here?" She'd adopted her most noble, "company manners" tone. Sabine was a good play actor, but Tunstall was in no mood for it just then.

"I came to discuss the Hunt with you and my partner," he said.

"Unfortunately, Copper is already abed, Sir," Sabine informed him.

"I told him it would be unseemly, my lady," the maid piped up.

"Aye, it would," Sabine agreed, still playing along. "Not to mention, it would be rude to talk details without Master Farmer. We can talk about our work tomorrow."

"Alright, then," he said gruffly, turning to leave.

"Good night, Guardsman," Sabine called after him. The sound of her voice was drowned out by more giggles from the ladies. Tunstall ignored them and stalked away.

Downstairs, he met up with Cape, and they made their way down to the camp with Prince Baird's men, where they talked and drank some more before retiring.

As he lay shivering in his bedroll, Tunstall's thoughts turned downright bitter. The cold night air chilled his very bones, causing his legs to ache fiercely. He had grown tired of this Hunt and was ready to be home and warm in his own bed, Sabine at his side.

Perhaps he should be aiming higher than his station. With lands and a title, he would be worthy of Sabine. They could marry and he could retire from the kennels. They'd live out their days in peaceful wedded bliss.

If Tunstall was honest with himself, he didn't know how much longer he could do Dog work, what with his worsening legs. One more good injury, and the choice would be made for him. This Hunt was taking even more of a toll on him, and for what? If they did rescue the princeling, he'd just grow up to be another nobleman, out of touch with the common people that he'd rule.

What did he care who was the king? One noble was just the same as another in Tunstall's opinion. Why not give himself a chance to be on the winning side? Who not give himself a chance to be happy? He would rather cooperate with the count than continue to struggle all his life, he decided.

That settled, Tunstall finally drifted off into slumber.