a_libertine
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 13, 2010
- Posts
- 6,739
Closed for myself and Mignonette
East Lothian, it was home of a proud people, as all of Scotland was proud. Gavin Fenton looked from his tower home near Linton. The tower sat atop a small hill the River Tyne flowing next to it. Gavin was lord of all he could see and hold.
The problem was though he could see far, his hold hand been greatly compromised by the British Army detachment that was besieging his tower, plundering his land.
Gavin and his cousin, Robert, surveyed the scenery before them. “It looks bad, Gavin.”
“Now bad depends on whether or not the British are willing to hang out there for all of winter. The snow is coming you know.” Gavin replied evenly.
“Aye, it is; in five months; and there are plenty trees about to keep them warm if they stay that long,” Robert pointed out needlessly.
Frustration rising, Gavin spun on his cousin. Wrapping his hands around Robert’s throat, “What? Shall I lift my kilt and let them have at whatever they find?” Shaking Robert mightily, Gavin shoved his cousin back. His voice was full of anger and disgust as he said, “Maybe I’ll hold yours up for them first.”
Gavin looked at his shield, rent nearly in two by one of the British knights recently. The red enamel shattered along the path of the blade and Gavin thought it someday would make a fine clan coat of arms as it was.
If the clan lived that long.
Most of his kinsmen had died in the last handful of years, fighting for Robert the Bruce and Scottish independence. He had buried a father, a brother, and more cousins than he could remember.
Worst of all the damn war had cost him his beloved Lilias. Perhaps a more charitable man would said the child birth had gone poorly, killing both mother and child. Gavin was not feeling charitable. If he hadn’t been fighting the damned English, he could have gotten her help. Maybe a more experienced midwife.
Maybe if there wasn’t a war he would have been here to force her to work less hard around their home when the pregnancy was taking so much from her.
But no. The damned English had to be repulsed from Scotland, which required soldiers. For all the faults he may or may not have as a man, he was a bloody fine soldier. Seldom home while Lilias had been alive, he had been here mourning her lost when the damned English contingent before him now showed up, harassing him and his holdings. Besides his entire life had known this war.
Starting in 1296, some 32 years later it still seemed to be going on. It was bad luck that the English showed up at the beginning of the planting season; winter was going to be hard if he could not dislodge the occupying force so they could plant. Turning his back to the English Gavin started to wrap his head around how to feed his people and men this winter.
Still pondering the situation, Robert roused Gavin from his thoughts. “Look. A rider is coming bearing a white flag.”
It was a very long wait for the rider to go into the English camp then ride from there toward Gavin’s tower home. Bounding down the stairs, Gavin met Percy Kennedy at the outer fortifications. If Gavin had a friend not in his clan, it was Percy.
“Gavin you look older than Methuselah,” Percy jibbed.
“You look like an Englishman up on that horse.” Gavin retorted.
Dismounting from the horse, Percy managed to look both pleased and put out simultaneously. “It’s over Gavin. We have peace, the English admitted defeat and signed the Treaty of Edinburgh-Northampton.” Through Percy’s tired exuberance, Gavin saw something else, a hint of trepidation perhaps in Percy’s eyes.
Robert standing behind Gavin heard and went running back into the keep proper to spread the news.
“What aren’t you telling me Percy?”
Percy sighed, shoulders slumping as if he were defeated and not the English. “Robert the Bruce wants you to marry again.”
Before Percy could continue, Gavin ripped off one syllable, “No.”
Raising his hands Percy continued, “Look, it will be a political marriage that potentially could pay off for Clan Fenton.”
“No Percy.”
“Listen, Robert is insistent, he is marrying David off this summer to help seal the treaty. Your marriage to one of Isabella of France’s ladies in waiting is also a component of the treaty.”
“No Percy.”
“Gavin, she is only a day behind me. She’ll be here tomorrow midafternoon.”
Rage overtook Gavin and he briefly considered striking Percy, “I don’t want an old gnarled hag of an Englishwoman for a wife. I have one, Lilias. A second wife is not necessary.”
East Lothian, it was home of a proud people, as all of Scotland was proud. Gavin Fenton looked from his tower home near Linton. The tower sat atop a small hill the River Tyne flowing next to it. Gavin was lord of all he could see and hold.
The problem was though he could see far, his hold hand been greatly compromised by the British Army detachment that was besieging his tower, plundering his land.
Gavin and his cousin, Robert, surveyed the scenery before them. “It looks bad, Gavin.”
“Now bad depends on whether or not the British are willing to hang out there for all of winter. The snow is coming you know.” Gavin replied evenly.
“Aye, it is; in five months; and there are plenty trees about to keep them warm if they stay that long,” Robert pointed out needlessly.
Frustration rising, Gavin spun on his cousin. Wrapping his hands around Robert’s throat, “What? Shall I lift my kilt and let them have at whatever they find?” Shaking Robert mightily, Gavin shoved his cousin back. His voice was full of anger and disgust as he said, “Maybe I’ll hold yours up for them first.”
Gavin looked at his shield, rent nearly in two by one of the British knights recently. The red enamel shattered along the path of the blade and Gavin thought it someday would make a fine clan coat of arms as it was.
If the clan lived that long.
Most of his kinsmen had died in the last handful of years, fighting for Robert the Bruce and Scottish independence. He had buried a father, a brother, and more cousins than he could remember.
Worst of all the damn war had cost him his beloved Lilias. Perhaps a more charitable man would said the child birth had gone poorly, killing both mother and child. Gavin was not feeling charitable. If he hadn’t been fighting the damned English, he could have gotten her help. Maybe a more experienced midwife.
Maybe if there wasn’t a war he would have been here to force her to work less hard around their home when the pregnancy was taking so much from her.
But no. The damned English had to be repulsed from Scotland, which required soldiers. For all the faults he may or may not have as a man, he was a bloody fine soldier. Seldom home while Lilias had been alive, he had been here mourning her lost when the damned English contingent before him now showed up, harassing him and his holdings. Besides his entire life had known this war.
Starting in 1296, some 32 years later it still seemed to be going on. It was bad luck that the English showed up at the beginning of the planting season; winter was going to be hard if he could not dislodge the occupying force so they could plant. Turning his back to the English Gavin started to wrap his head around how to feed his people and men this winter.
Still pondering the situation, Robert roused Gavin from his thoughts. “Look. A rider is coming bearing a white flag.”
It was a very long wait for the rider to go into the English camp then ride from there toward Gavin’s tower home. Bounding down the stairs, Gavin met Percy Kennedy at the outer fortifications. If Gavin had a friend not in his clan, it was Percy.
“Gavin you look older than Methuselah,” Percy jibbed.
“You look like an Englishman up on that horse.” Gavin retorted.
Dismounting from the horse, Percy managed to look both pleased and put out simultaneously. “It’s over Gavin. We have peace, the English admitted defeat and signed the Treaty of Edinburgh-Northampton.” Through Percy’s tired exuberance, Gavin saw something else, a hint of trepidation perhaps in Percy’s eyes.
Robert standing behind Gavin heard and went running back into the keep proper to spread the news.
“What aren’t you telling me Percy?”
Percy sighed, shoulders slumping as if he were defeated and not the English. “Robert the Bruce wants you to marry again.”
Before Percy could continue, Gavin ripped off one syllable, “No.”
Raising his hands Percy continued, “Look, it will be a political marriage that potentially could pay off for Clan Fenton.”
“No Percy.”
“Listen, Robert is insistent, he is marrying David off this summer to help seal the treaty. Your marriage to one of Isabella of France’s ladies in waiting is also a component of the treaty.”
“No Percy.”
“Gavin, she is only a day behind me. She’ll be here tomorrow midafternoon.”
Rage overtook Gavin and he briefly considered striking Percy, “I don’t want an old gnarled hag of an Englishwoman for a wife. I have one, Lilias. A second wife is not necessary.”