The margrave looked at his eldest daughter, placing a hand on her golden shoulder. “And that…I believe….concludes that….now we have more important things at hand.”
Larol nodded, looking away from Kraddock to gaze at the waiting pyre of Septimal Caine. “Yes father…we do.”
The Margrave, his daughters and his wife slowly made their way through the crowd, greeting kinsfolk and well wishers, exchanging a few words with knights and warriors who had known and served with Caine. An impressive number of well-born young ladies also seemed quite bereaved, weeping on the lawn, though several of them grew more annoyed than sorrowful as their number kept increasing.
Spying Captain Kraddock, The Margrave made his way to his son’s officer, his gaze taking in the company as he approached. When he arrived, Kraddock, Gareth and Xanderian all dropped to one knee, the others following suit.
The Margrave casually gestured for you all to rise and as they came to their feet, he gripped hands with Gareth, his sister’s son. "Good to see you my boy." Next he embraced Captain Kraddock with a ring of metal as their armor clashed. A few words were whispered between them, until Kraddock said “Thank you my grace” as the Margrave pulled away. Then the nobleman turned to look at the others, his gaze a mix of gravity and amusement. "As for the rest of you, Lili tells me you lot were the last to spend time with Septimal, along with this old battlehound of course…” he slapped Kraddock’s armored shoulder “....and by what Lala and the boy’s mother just went on about, I take it that is so.'
Xanderian nodded softly. “I fear your grace I was detained by other matters, and did not join my companions in Linhir. That I fear is to my shame, but those of my company did indeed labor by Septimal Caine’s side there.
Nethrida kept her head bowed slightly. "Your son, was... An exceptional soldier, and we are all lesser for his passing." She spoke with a tone laced with a hint of sadness as Addiela remained silent; her crystal blue eyes locked on the Margrave as she carefully studied his words, expressions, and body language.
The Margrave nodded to Xanderian. "I understand, Herald, yet it is good to see you again. I know he had remained quite fond of you. It is too bad you…you were not there for that reason alone." He then looks to Nethrida. "Well, congratulations on your spurs, Sir Knight...the Vanguard is a good company to serve Bachelor so you should be all right....now...perhaps you might inform an old man what ACTUALLY happened, unless I am expected to believe an elderly farmwife took it upon herself to consort with shadow and slay a Knight of Minas Tirith with a rock?'
Nethrida pursed her lips a little, she took a deep breath and lowered her tone "If... It should suit the Margrave... The tale is one I believe is best to be kept away from public ears so as to not stir panic... But I would be more than willing to explain what I know afterwards?"
Carneryn sighed quietly and looked at the Margrave, nodding along with Neth's statement while Addiela simply stared at the ground, a look of remorse and sorrow washing over her countenance.
The Margrave nodded. "So be it...once this is finished I will expect a report...though I imagine you will have some things to be told concerning your new duties first, Sir Nethrida. Lala showed me the letter he had written her from this..Linhir place. He seemed quite impressed with you lot.
Kraddock saluted. "I will see that she is brought up to speed, your grace....and that you get your report. The investigation has already...taken some odd turns..however your daughter can explain those better than I could.”
Nethrida straightens her posture a little bit and saluted as well. "I... Am ready to serve" She replied with a sharp nod.
Carneryn now seemed a little concerned, what if those new duties took Neth away? She shook her head dispelling those thoughts... at least for that moment.
As the others answered the Margrave, Xanderian reached out and took Nim's hands...whispering..."You have been missed..and we have been concerned for you."
Nimlindir squeezed Xan's hands and smiled sweetly. 'I was resting love, Tra la la, la lolly! They made me...'
Xanderian petted Nim's shoulder softly, now even more concerned...and glanced at Cal. "Perhaps when this is concluded, dear Songstress, you should come and rest at Tol Lochul?”
Nimlindir smiled and nodded happily and returned to the musicians platform with a playful swish.
Xanderian just watched Nim go back to the bandstand, whispering to Calidis. "Clearly something terrible has happened...the Songstress needs us.”
Across the grass, a figure in the armor of the Pale Kestrels was openly watching the group, her eyes locked with those of Calidis, clearly waiting for the margrave to move on.
Calidis blinked out of her one-sided staring contest with the mysterious person she had spotted across the lawn and then spared a look of sympathy for Onorie. Regardless of the spectacle that had occurred, she could understand the woman's grief. Had she not also felt that similar, maddening pain herself all those years ago? Her brows had furrowed ever so slightly at the Margrave's question however she remained silent as she had not spoken to and let her gaze drift back out toward that figure on the lawn, wondering if they meant to approach or say something...
The Margrave nodded to Kraddock again, and looked at Gareth. "The hour approaches nephew...you should go up to the Pyre...I will greet some others and join you, with the girls....and Steelheart, please see to Onorie afterwards. Lala is getting her all wound up.' He then paused to look at the company. "As I said, from his last letter, Septimal was well pleased with your company...and so I am in your debt. If Arne, Margrave Palanial can be of assistance in your...shall we say, "adventures", then call upon me...and I look forward to your report.'
The old man smiled and slapped Nethrida on the shoulder, nearly toppling her again. "Good luck Knight Bachelor...you'll need it.'
As the Margrave moved away, the figure across the lawn finally approached and spoke. "I do beg your pardon, especially at such an occasion...but you were at Linhir when...well...what happened happened?'
The woman was petite, dressed smartly in gray leather armor and a pearl gray cloak trimmed with crimson, the edge scalloped like feathers. Her left pauldron was fashioned in the likeness of a flying dove.'
Nethrida bowed her head as the Margrave departed, "Thank you, my lord”. She then looked at the newcomer with a raised eyebrow, taking Ryn's hand protectively. She nodded slowly "We...were...? How can I help?" She asked
Calidis watched the woman who approached intently and then nodded to Xan, still keeping an eye on the woman in gray. "We will make sure Nimlindir returns home with us," she whispered back.
Nimlindir smiled and watches the scene before her from the bandstand, eager to see what happened next. She lifts her bow to play again but accidently hits the lyre player next to her in the nose. The lyre player music scattered in all direction as she hissed “Not YOU again…”, then she threw her instrument down, bursting into tears and running off the stage. Nimlindir didn’t seem to notice and kept on playing.
As the piece ended, a bit abruptly without the lyre solos, Nimlindir packed up her violin in the case happy to be done and to be off with Xan and her friends. In her excitement she swung the case up and struck the drummer behind her who fell, knocking his instrument to the ground and pushing him into the musician next to him. As Nim walked off the platform the entire row of musicians collapsed like dominoes with a loud clang.
From the ground, beneath his band, the bandleader called out "Next time, we hire a Gondorian.'
Calidis watched the carnage on the bandstand and looked more seriously at Xanderian. "We will CERTAINLY make sure Nimlindir returns home with us..."
The girl in gray saluted Nethrida. "I am Sir Lyra, a Squad Leader with the Doves...I am the Knight in charge of the investigation into the Linhir affair...is there...well...in a few moments, somewhere we can talk?'
Lyra turned to allow the others to see that the family and others had approached the Pyre, several taking the seven lit torches. The Margrave held one blazing torch up and turned to the crowd. “Farewell to my son, Septimal Caine, Knight of Gondor, Executor of the Vanguard. To my pride a bright, foolhardy boy grew into a Knight as sharp as his sword, and as fearless as Elendil himself. Now he leaves us having completed his duty, leaving hundreds of citizens alive due to his good work, and hundreds of our foes dead for his time in the field. He will be missed by his family, his friends, and by Gondor.”
The Margrave thrust his torch into the pyre. Each stepping forward, Gareth, Larol, Lianna, Kraddock and two others the company did not know would do the same.
As the flames caught and roared up around the body of Caine, Onorie screamed and collapsed, being attended to by several maids.
The knight who called herself Lyra watched the flames rise as well, wiping tears away but refusing to avert her eyes.
Xanderian saluted gravely, deeply moved, whispering to herself, remembering days gone by.
Nethrida turned to face Caine's pyre. Grief further etched upon her face as she stood at attention and saluted the fallen soldier. Beside her Carneryn was distracted by Onorie's screaming for a long moment before she took Neth's hand.
Addiela 's expression turned blank and her eyes widened as the brightly burning flames reflected in the growing pools of tears that swelled over the crystal blue and masked the empty black voids of her pupils. She pressed her lips together and turned her back to the pyre. She didn’t wish to disrespect Caine or his memory, but she could no longer look nor did she feel she deserved to have the light of that fire grace her face.
For the first time during the entire memorial, Calidis visibly and painfully winced at the sound of Onorie's screaming and even took a step backward, perfect posture breaking as she seemed to want to curl in on herself. It was clear that such sounds reminded her of her own past grief and pain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, after which she quickly forced herself to stand upright and face the pyre. Once she opened her eyes again, the 'mask' was replaced... If only just.
Lyra wiped her tears away more forcefully. "I...I'm sorry....we can speak whenever you are ready. I am fine. " She wiped her tears some more. "Fine.'
Xanderian patted the Dove on the shoulder, understanding he, and gestured towards a remote corner of the vast garden, far from the pyre and the other guests. "Perhaps there?"
Nethrida watched the pyre a moment longer before lowering her arm from the salute and simply nodded at Lyra. "I... Am ready to speak..."
