4th Cri, 229: What Happened that Night

What Happened that Night
Summary: Kierne attempts to fill gaps in Eoin's memory.
OOC Date: 04/Apr/2014
Related: For Research Purposes
Players:
Eoin Kierne 
Dining Hall - Greenshire Manor, Stormvale
Stone floors, a vaulted ceiling and a large stone hearth at the far end of room greets guest. Natural light is let in through high windows, which are at least 8 feet up from the floor and stretch towards the ceiling. A formal old dark and mahogany table graces the room, along with red velvet cushioned high back chairs that sit sternly around it. Tall silver candelabras stand spaced at intervals along the table. Soft yellow bee wax candles from a local beekeeper rest in place on it of the great silver pieces. Between each of the candelabras are fresh cut flowers from the garden. Theses flowers fill the room with their rich scent. The stone floor is padded with colourful hand woven rug and the walls are covered with tapestries featuring hunts.
4th Cri, 229

It's mid-afternoon perhaps, certainly well after the midday meal but not yet time for the evening one. With Oscar gone to the Mowbrays with Elisabeth, Cricket out in the stables, and the cat and her kittens god know where, the dining room is actually fairly quiet and peaceful as Eoin sits and dips his spoon half heartedly into a bowl of cooling broth.

Kierne has a little bit about him of the guilty dog peeking into the bedroom where it's been scolded not to go, peeking timidly into the dining hall and then, seeing Eoin, he brightens a little bit, a wistful but pleasant smile settling crookedly over his features. "Hey," he calls out, rather informally, given the circs.

Perhaps Cricket should meet Kierne and be introduced to the concept of guilt. For now though, Eoin glances over towards teh door a the greeting is heard, then pushes himself to his feet to greet his visitor. "Apologies, I must have lost track of the time," then gesturing towards the table, "do you want anything? Food, drink? I think I'm about done but please feel free if you wish."

Kierne skulks over tableside, "Oh, I'm good. Might have a cup of wine if there's any lying about," he answers. "How're you feeling?" he goes on to wonder. "I can barely imagine, with everything I went though, what it must have been like to be in your shoes. You really stood tall that night."

Eoin looks mildly amused at the uggestion that there might not be wine, sitting back down and notioning that Kierne should do the same. "You forget, we Haraveans are from Greenshire, conveniently the same place that the best wines in the Kingdom come from. Red or white?" Sumoning over a servant as they pass he'll let the younger man place his own order and then have he left overs cleared. Then, what happens to be a tough question at the moment, so he sticks to a purely medical point of view. "Much improved I'm pleased to say, I'm hoping to be able to go back to sea soon. And yourself?" He still doesn't recall the night and so can only reply to that with a vague smile and a "so I've heard."

Kierne has a brief moment of aporeia when faced with an actual decision as to which wine to order, then, finally, with the smile of a boyish lush in the making, "Well, one of each, then. Won't let the one be lonesome without the other, much less pass over the best wines in the kingdom," he tells Eoin, how hesitant smile growing playful. "Oh, good! Cleared for duty, then? You must be glad to be able to get about your business, at last. I'm fine. Just sort of in a holding pattern until I hear about where we're moving next. It's getting to that point at which I feel I should be packing, but I'm not sure for whither."

"A glass of each then," Eoin agrees with a short nod, "you will not be disapointed I promise you." Leaning back into his chair to get comfortable he continues, "the Royal Physician says she'll be happy once the dizzy spells have stopped and they mostly have now. Not everything is fully back to how it was, a I'm sure you'll understand, but apparently I'll pass." Another nod at the mention of packing and he states dryly, "north, although I suppose from here it has to be southwest first unless you fancy becoming a sailor of course."

Kierne nods slowly. "North, somehow. I suppose we could all take sea transport, and that would give us the added benefit of space to bring more supplies should the campaign last longer than we may pack provisions for. But as likely as not I suppose we'll go by land, to free the vessels to their own proper work," he speaks easily about the logistics, as though they were some hypothetical for an assignment he were doing, still somewhat detached from it as an actual thing that's Going To Happen And Probably Kill Him. "I would guess a dizzy spell aboardship would be one of the less fortunate things to happen to one, so that's probably wise."

"I suspect that Lord Arlen is likely the best to ask about that," Eoin notes as the wine appears, three glasses in all, one for him, two for Kierne. "He has command of your uncle's ships and would likely either preside over, or at least co-ordinate, any such manouvers. I must admit though, I have been out of the loop for a while now so I have little to no idea of the current plans." Something he'll have to fix sooner rather than later alas. As for the dizzyspells, that gets a nod, "it's not something to take likely that is for certain." Lifting his glass he savours the wine a moment then rubs his forehead a moment. "Shall we get to business though? You said you could enlighten me on what did actually happen?"

"Uncle Aidan and my Lord Knight have met at length about arrangements, but no plans have been finalized, as far as I know," Kierne reports. "Alright, well, all I can tell is how I happened to see it, and you know what a biased thing a man's observations can be, so I'd suggest you hear some other accounts in order to triangulate something akin to truth, if such a thing as truth exists." Some philosophy of that depth requires a draught of red, and so one is taken. "At any rate, I was waiting for my Lord Knight to arrive. In retrospect he was likely fighting off invaders even as I was hoping he would arrive. I went and took post by the door so as to be in attendance on him when he should arrive, when who should enter but what seemed a good dozen men clothed all in black, with axes and rapiers drawn. They had cut down the better part of the guard before I could even realize what was happening."

Eoin nods slowly at that and takes another drink, "I imagine the talks have been similar to those that my cousin, Sir Shepard and House Ruxton for the security of Westgate." Not talks he's been in on though, so he can not expand beyond that. A nod of undersanding is given to Kierne's disclaimer and he notes for the squires benefit, "quite so. So far I have mostly only the testimony of Lady Nylie who has informed me that I acted to protect her person," which to be fair, is something he can easily imagine himself doing. Very easily indeed. "But beyond that I have nothing really." All that said he listens carefully as the story unfolds, sipping his wine and nodding at seemingly appropriate points.

"And before I could even draw my blade there was a rain of arrows from above; another band, similarly clad, were coming onto the balcony, and firing down into the crowd, making no discrimination between men or women, armed or unarmed, fighting or fleeing," Kierne sighs. "But there was hardly anything to do about that; even fewer brought bows to supper than were dressed with blades. Some people were throwing silverware, but it hardly seemed effective. For my part, I saw Prince Logen being hounded hard by a man with an axe, and I tried to fall in beside him to bolster his efforts."

Eoin keeps silent until the first time after mentioning Logen that Kierne pauses for breath. At that point though he inserts a question or two of his own based on what's been said so far, "two bands got into the throne room?" That one is more rhetorical, but does go someway to explaining the fate of the previous head of the Roiga. "Logen was being hounded you say. What of the King, or the then Crown Prince? How did they fare?"

"They had retired to a further chamber for some matter," Kierne shakes his head. "I doubt anyone will ever be able to say precisely what happened there." There's a moment of pensive silence as Kierne stares into the white, then sips from it. Then, heaving a sigh, he starts up once more. "When I came to the defense of the Prince I drew the attention of one of the axe men, who came at me and compelled me to defend myself and leave the prince to his attacker."

Eoin 'hmmms' at that news, nodding slowly as his questions are answered. It's not easy listening, but it's better to hear it than to not and of course, the wine helps. His own is a red. Finding no words to express the mix of feelings at this point he takes another drink, then a deep breath that he lets out slowly before gesturing for Kierne to continue as he feels fit.

"The push was worse than any I'd seen, or even imagined. They obviously were intent on reaching the royal chambers; they seemed more or less to be clearing a path, again, be it through whomever. They were cutting folk down left and right, all in their dinner clothes. Like it was nothing to them. They were laughing," Kierne shrugs up his shoulders, fidgiting with the white wine glass. "I tried to hold out against the one who pressed me, but after he hit me in the stomach I could barely stand, much less fight. When he realized I was no longer a threat— if I had ever really been a threat, he pressed forward. Knowing I was in no condition to keep fighting, I fell to the ground and helped tend to those who lay wounded there."

Eoin has seen some pretty gruesome fights in his time, ship to ship mostly, so he doesn't take Kierne's comments lightly. "It sounds like you and I were lucky," he states, aware that he's using a pretty loose definition of that word. "It sounds like it was a bloody mess and in truth, I am not sure how much of it I want to remember." He shakes his head slowly, gazing out of the windows for a moment as he digests all that, "it sounds though, that since you had a weapon you were one of the most threatening in the room."

"Well, let's just say that all those who thought I comported myself well during the tourney were sorely disappointed when I came to face a real and honest foe who was more intent on killing than maintaining the dignity of a tourney fight," Kierne shrugs it off half-heartedly, though some shame lingers in his voice at the thought of his performance in the grand hall. He washes down the guilt with a liberal swallow of red, finishing the glass and then attacking the white. "By that time it was all but done. We cut down six or maybe seven of them on their way through, but the rest passed into the royal chambers, leaving the rest of us in a slurry of blood and torn flesh."

"If you were helping keep my guts in then you stood longer than I did," Eoin points out, tilting his glass towards the younger man to aid in emphasising this, "and I've had most of my experience in real fights rather than tournaments." He doesn't add anything quite so patronising as 'you're too hard on yourself' or such, it sounds inulting in his head, never mind the fact he only ha the lad's word for it all. "The way you decribe it sounds like the deck of a ship once we've boarded," he adds, eyeing the remainder of his wine and thinking ahead to the months to come, "blood is something I feel we'll be seeing a lot of before winter returns," And on that cheerful though he downs his drink and sets the glass down on the table. "Thank you though, for talking it through. That can't have been easy for you."

"It's nothing I haven't gone over in my head over and over again. Some days I feel like I'm still living there," Kierne lifts a hand to scratch at the side of his head. "It was actually kind of nice to just… get it out from in between my ears, let the words get some air in the outside world. Makes it seem like it really happened, it wasn't just something I'm dreaming on."

"I wish then," Eoin starts, "that I could help by telling you that it happened just so but I am afraid nothing seems familiar to me. Perhaps with time." He ha no idea if that's likely or not, but figures there has to be a chance. "I am afraid though, that the time is drawing on and I promised to meet with my sister and mut thus depart. Please though, finish your wine, have more if you desire, just be aware that if you're still here for supper then someone may insist you stay for it and start eyeing up your potential as a match for Lady Brendolyn." He's only half serious about that last bit as he pushes himself to his feet, but you never know sometimes.

Kierne looks up at the mention of the Admiral's sister. "I hope she's doing well. Give her my best wishes, and my apologies that I was unable to attend her wedding." They were friends, at one point, after all, both of them in the Duke of Sutherland's household, 'til she went off and got hitched. The possibility of his own marriage draws a wincing face from the squire, perhaps a little bit rude, in context, but it's likely as not he has nothing so much against Brendolyn as a general distaste for the notion of marriage, content as he is with his concubine and his prostitutes. "Oh, grand. Thank you, at any rate, for the wine. Hopefully we'll get another chance to see one another before you embark."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License