David ap Gillen The Welsh Bard

[cgraven]

OOC: This is a thread of encounters between the Bard David ap Gillen and the Norman ladies. Each encounter will be limited, and reveal a different side of this Character. For established writers a chance to play a medieval maid, and for new writers a chance to work in a thread. If you are interested PM me with you character and the side of the Bard you would like to explore.

C G Raven

IC: It had been many a long year sense I had left my home Liangillen by the Berwyn Mts. to cross the Irish Sea. Yes to Ireland to learn the art of the Bard. This no pale scribbler of words as the Norman has, nor the pretty feathered birds of the French with their delicate sonnets. But a lively man of action as adept with harp and verse to entertain, or with sharp tongue and sword to chastise and humble the Manor's Lord. Ours is an ancient role to keep alive our history and our Clan chieftains humble, so they can sever their people. I am a wander a weaver of word and verse to the harps sweet voice.

I have come home my father's house a charred ruin his men dispersed. Now a cold "Norman Keep” stands, their laws they enforced, with iron hand and pitiless heart. Gone is the joy of Llangillen the clansmen driven deep into the Berwyn Mts. I am no longer young my ginger hair touched with traces of sliver, yet I am strong of body and limb, and quick of mind. Yes I have come home to fight with wit and charm, and with arm and sword if need be to, write the wrongs, and take my vengeance. To pick their "Norman Roes" and cast them aside as they did my sister. This I David ap Gillen swear.


The Keeps cold stony gates. It is a watchdog not a home, as I approach smell of oppression fills the air. This is the place of a "Master" who will not tolerate disobedience from my people, his kith n kin, or even from his dogs. He is shroud, his steward is Welsh Logan ap Laughflyn yet he dresses in the Norman way. How markedly these contrast with my simple kilt, doublet, and traveler’s cloak. My harp is upon my back, traveler's pouch by my side, Hunter's sword by my side, and traveler's staff to hand.

I have been given shelter for the night, the price some songs upon my harp. I sit by the open hearth and play the courtly ballads of their land, they are as bored as I. Then what took hold of me I no not but I struck the deep lively airs of "Men of Harwich" a tune of, my people of revolt, those the words I mouth are of mountains valleys and planes. I see the Lord's anger rise at the first notes then subsidizes my soothing words set in. I see he like this bold mixing and the strife it causes around his table. So then in such manner I passed the next few hours. As I take a break for mead and food Logan ap Laughflyn offers me a week’s stay from the Lord. I raise my goblet in salute as is their custom and acknowledgement. As he takes a struggling sever wench upon his knee. The anger boils in me, a clam rage to strike at him fills me, yet my face betrays nothing.

The last hour I devote to ballads of love and romance to woe them to their beds. The Lord has left quite some time ago with the tearful wench in tow.

It is late as I put away my harp and a shadow falls over me.

 

[cgraven]

(A little nudge.)

 

[Tammi]

OCC:Sara Flynn had just turned 18 two days ago and had spent the those days awaiting what she had feared most when she first had come to serve Logan ap Laughflyn. Up until now, she was still a virgin, but she knew that would not be for very long.

At fifteen, with a body that looked much like a scrawny boy, with tangled red hair and green eyes, she had been taken from her family and home she loved as payment for the meager food and supplies given to them. Logan had kept his end of the bargain, helping her parents and two brothers survive, but the price was her servitude. He had brought her to his home where she had learned quickly that he was a harsh man who allowed no mistakes and his punishment was swift. Many times she had felt the burning pain from his hand on her buttocks for things as little as spilling his mead.

The first time she was told to undress him, she was scared to death but not at seeing a naked man, as she had seen her brothers and father naked many times. Living in a one room shack, had not allowed much privacy. What she did fear was the way he looked at her, and Sara had seen the same look in her father’s eyes looking at her mother and knew what came of that look. Her fears, at least that one, had been laid to rest when he assured her that she would remain a virgin until she was 18. At that time, when her body filled out and if she turned out to be the beauty he expected, he would sell her virginity at a high price. If she did not turn out to be a beauty, he would take her virginity and other’s would pay for her services. She knew some of what that meant as although he left her virginity in tact, he had taught her well how to please a man with her mouth. Now at 18, her full wavy auburn hair cascaded down to her waist, her figure was slim and shapely, with subtle curves and firm round breasts, not overly large, but most pleasing to look at.

IC: I had noticed the more stares and looks from Logan and the other men, since my 18th birthday and walked with my head down, feeling as if they were undressing with their eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder if Logan would soon be offering me to them. Tonight when the stranger came, my belly tightened into knots, especially because of the look on Logan’s face. I began to relax, listening to the strangers songs and music and I felt a mixture of happiness and yet a sadness filled my heart, making me long for home.

Then when Logan had taken me upon his knee, reminding me of who and what I was, I was relieved the stranger did not see the embarrassed and humiliated blush across my face. As the tears streamed quietly down my face, I tried blocking out Logan by listening to the ballads the stranger played. Later when Logan pulled me with him, I glanced at the stranger, tears running down my face and then quickly glanced away.

Once alone with Logan, he unzipped his pants, pushed me down on my knees, and pressed my head down upon his manhood. I was relieved he came quickly and thought I would be allowed to go rest and my services were over. I was quite startled when Logan told me to clean up my face and then go see if the stranger was in need of anything.

Dressed only in a light chemise, as instructed, I walked quietly to where the stranger was. As I stand before him, I could not help but admire his strong form, but I quickly cast my eyes down when he notices me there. With my hands held together, my fingers play against each other, nervously.

“Sir, My Lord asks if you are in need of anything?”

 

[cgraven]

She was a slip of a girl the 1st blush of her blooming woman hood in its innocent perfection was on her. This house hold pleased me not, the Norman master had dragged poor lass off to his bed, and she had been scream and his guests but laughed.

The steward Logan ap Laughflyn, Welsh by birth but a cunning man always looking for advantage had taken this poor lass upon his knee. Her cheeks flushed as dark as her red hair her green eyes flashed and showed her embarrassment as she was also dragged off.

The great hall was empty and I packed my Harp and was shown to a guest room for a Bard dose not sleep in the common servant’s hovels, but is an honored guest. I was seated by the heart enjoying a bit of mead and a crust of bread. A shadow feel across me and a meek little voice pricked at my ears.

“Sir, My Lord asks if you are in need of anything?”

Leisurely I turned in my seat and smiled at her for it was the slip of a girl that steward Logan ap Laughflyn had been misusing sent to me only in her chemise.

“What is your name girl and why have you been sent to me only in your chemise?”

My voice was soft and kind.

 

[Tammi]

“My name is Sara, Sir. My Lord insisted that I hurry and gave me no time to dress properly.”

I continue to look down at my hands, my voice still trembles slightly, although he sounds kind. I can feel the warm blush across my face at having to appear before him in this state of undress.

“As you are my Lord’s guest, he wanted me to make sure you had enough food, drink, blankets. He wanted me to make sure you were in need of nothing.”

 

[cgraven]

“As you are my Lord’s guest, he wanted me to make sure you had enough food, drink, blankets. He wanted me to make sure you were in need of nothing.”

“That is a pretty name…. If it is no bother some cheese a bit of mead from the kitchens would be appreciated “

My voice was soft and deep lost some place between a bass and a baritone. A gentle smile, her blush so appealing.

“Now off you go for I am hungry. And bring some for yourself”

I pause, my hazel eyes meeting Sara’s.

“And Sara best get a skirt, bodice and shawl for there are a chill this night and I would talk with you for a while and be glad for the company…….Now off you go for I am hungry and my throat is parched.”

 

[Tammi]

I blush again, never having been told before I had a pretty name. I listen to the things he asks for and am surprised when he tells me to bring something for myself.

For the first time, I look up at him, my head tilted slightly with my eyes meeting his, and I see his gentle smile, his voice deep, yet kind and soothing to the ear.

And Sara best get a skirt, bodice and shawl for there are a chill this night and I would talk with you for a while and be glad for the company…….Now off you go for I am hungry and my throat is parched.

“Yes Sir, I will hurry.”

My voice is soft and as I turn to leave, I let out a deep breath. The nervousness I had first felt is somewhat relieved, knowing that I can go get dressed before I return. I quickly go to my room in the servants quarters and put on my skirt and bodice, tying it tightly. I wrap my shawl around me, glad for the covering as it hides my amble breasts which push out above the small bodice Logan insists I wear.

I hurry to the kitchen, getting the cheese and mead, making sure there is plenty for two, although I am somewhat baffled as to why this stranger would care to have me, a servant girl, share his food as well as his company. I quickly go back to his room, and after knocking softly at the partially opened door, I walk in. I keep my eyes lowered, not wanting to anger the stranger, for that would only bring on Logan’s punishments.

“Sir, here is your cheese and mead as you asked. I am sorry if I took to long, but thank you for allowing me to dress. Would you like me to pour you a goblet of mead?”

I set the cheese and mead down on the small bench near where he is seated in front of the fire. I look up at him, my eyes staring into his for a brief second and then quickly I look down, hoping he this has not angered him.

 

[cgraven]

“Yes Sir, I will hurry.”

Sara turns on her heels and scurries off to do as she has been told. Her voice soft and sweet like the nightingale. Some timed passed a soft knock on the door and ther she stands a plate in one hand and a pitcher in the other. Her eyes downcast as if she was studying her toes. A hint of a smile plays at the corners of my mouth.

“Sir, here is your cheese and mead as you asked. I am sorry if I took to long, but thank you for allowing me to dress. Would you like me to pour you a goblet of mead?”

Sara’s eyes rise to meet mine for a moment then they are quickly downcast again.

“Sara yes some mead to easy my throat would be greatly appreciated. Thank you Sara.”

I watch her perform her duties with a bit of a nervous hand.

“Sara me girl though you feet are quite dainty, and very pretty …It is a bit vain to be watching them all the time”

My voice is light and just a hint of teasing tone.

“Now draw up a chair and have a seat Sara, pour your self mead and join me. I am sorry for teasing you as I know I am not the handsomest of men. I hold it not against you that you avert your eyes.”

 

[Tammi]

Sara me girl though you feet are quite dainty, and very pretty …It is a bit vain to be watching them all the time.

A quick, but barely audible giggle escapes me at his comment, not used to being spoken to in such a manner.

Now draw up a chair and have a seat Sara, pour your self mead and join me. I am sorry for teasing you as I know I am not the handsomest of men. I hold it not against you that you avert your eyes.

“Oh Sir, it is not because of your looks, you are very nice to look at…”

My thoughts rush from my mouth before I can stop them and I look up him with wide eyes and quickly putting my hand to my lips.

“I mean, you are not at all a man to look away from…”

Seeing a quick flash in his eyes, a questioning look appears in mine, unsure if I have offended him or amused him. I turn from him, drawing up a chair across from his, and pour myself some mead, having to use both hands to keep steady. After sitting down, I take a rather large swallow of the mead then with both hands cupped around my drink rest it in my lap. With a nervous smile on my face, I look up at this mysterious stranger.

“Sir, I have always been told never to look up at anyone other than the servants, unless told to. And thank you for letting me share this mead with you, I was very thirsty.”

 

[cgraven]

“Oh Sir, it is not because of your looks, you are very nice to look at…” ……………..“I mean, you are not at all a man to look away from…”

Sara’s words com tripping across her lips in a quick tumbling rush, her eyes wide, then quickly putting my hand to my lips. She draws up a chair and her hands are nearly shaking as Sara pours her mead downs a health draft. A nervous little smile plays at the corner of her lips, Sara’s hands now demurely placed on her lap.

“Sir, I have always been told never to look up at anyone other than the servants, unless told to. And thank you for letting me share this mead with you, I was very thirsty.”

“This is a strange house you serve in Sara where servant can not meet the laird’s gaze.”

I sip from the goblet, and take a morsel of cheese.

“These Normans have strange ways. I see none of the service that is owed to those that serve for nare man now woman is better than the next it the eyes of heaven.”

Ideally I pick up my rose wood traveling harp and wrest it upon my knee, lazily picking out and old tune from the wild welsh mountains. The notes float on the air, slowly my voice joins those notes and the tail of a sweet maid betrayed for love of money fills the small guest chamber. My eyes never leave Sara’s and I sing and play for her alone a tail the mirrors her young life.

 

[Tammi]

These Normans have strange ways. I see none of the service that is owed to those that serve for nare man now woman is better than the next it the eyes of heaven.

I look into his eyes, puzzled by his words, yet I feel something strange, a long ago recollection, growing up in a home where eyes were always met. Although it had only been several years, it seems a lifetime ago that the smiling, playful young girl even existed not knowing the troubles that lay ahead.

I take a small bite of cheese and swallow it down with the mead, watching him pick up his harp. I sit memorized by the beautiful sounds that his fingers bring to life as they play across the strings of the harp. There is a soothing warmth that his music seems to enhance and I begin to relax, my hands ease their trembling while I listen.

His voice is soft and gentle to my ear hearing him sing. Looking at him I am entranced, his eyes along with the words he sings make me feel as if he is reaching inside me. The song of the maid, so much like my own life, taken from the warmth and love I had known to be thrown harshly into a world in which those things were replaced with coldness and cruelty never known to me before.

Tears well up in my eyes as I gaze into the depths of his, wondering how this stranger knows of such things, feeling as if he somehow sees inside me and knows the things that are there. I look down at my cup, quickly wiping a tear from my eye and then look back at him.

“Sir, you play and sing beautifully, your song has touched my heart more than you may know. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

My voice is almost whisper; trying to steady the emotions his song has stirred. I finish my goblet of mead and stand up, placing it on the bench.

“Sir, perhaps I should leave you to rest now as it grows late.”

 

[cgraven]

For a brief moment the sensual sing of the harp’s strings reach Sara’s spirit, then the intertwined words carry her away from the misery of her life here in the Keep of the Norman masters of our land, there ever increasing incursion as they lust for more and more, their iron shod horses trampling the life and freedom where ever they go.

A tear tickles down the smooth curve of Sara’s cheek a glistening crystal that holds her sorrow an misery. Wiped away she stands.

“Sir, perhaps I should leave you to rest now as it grows late.”


Setting my harp aside I stand, her hands now rest in mine, my eyes soft and tender, hold Sara’s


“I am not tiered, and I find your company refreshing.”

My lips brush Sara’s cheek in the ancient greeting of our people.

"But if your duties call you, then go my child.”

My hands still hold hers, for I have no wish for this wounded child to leave.

 

[Tammi]

His hands are warm and gentle holding mine, like the look in his eyes are. I smile up at him, feeling that this stranger has a kindness unlike the masters of this Keep.

I am not tired, and I find your company refreshing.

The brush of his lips on my cheek is warm, soft and so tender, something I haven’t felt since that horrible day they took me from my home. He sounds sincere when he speaks, like those of my parents, yet they had sent me here telling me this was what was best for me. But his eyes, looking into them, there is something different about him. I am unsure what that is.

But if your duties call you, then go my child.

“Sir, I was told not to stay long, if I do my Lord will surely think…”

I blush at the same time feeling a cold chill knowing what Logan will think and what he may do with those thoughts. I look down seeing my hands lost within the size of this strangers hands, again feeling his warmth pushing those thoughts of Logan away for a brief moment, only to return.

“I must go, Sir, but maybe if there is time tomorrow, my Lord will allow you to play your beautiful songs for all of us again.”

I smile warmly up at him, letting my hands slowly slip from his and pick up the plate with the empty pitcher and goblets. As I walk to the door I turn back to look at him before leaving.

“Sir, I do not wish to be rude, but may I ask what your name is?”

 

[cgraven]

“Sir, I was told not to stay long, if I do my Lord will surely think…”

The blush on Sara’s cheeks at her own words tells me more than her words. This girl has been cruelly used robbed of a portion of her innocents, and though anger at this injustice rises within me, my features remain calm and tranquil. Again she cast her eyes down as she looks at my crude hands, Sara’s thoughts her own.

“Sir, I was told not to stay long, if I do my Lord will surely think…”

Sara busies herself collecting up the remains of our petit repass

“Sir, I do not wish to be rude, but may I ask what your name is?”

“My name child is David ap Gillen, the bard. And I am sure that Lord Fitzhues will have me play tomorrow at the evening meal.”

“Now off with you Sara before you attract the attention and anger of his steward Logan ap Laughfly, I fear he is a cruel man.”

***************************************

My day was spent in the kitchens, about the keep as I listened to the servants speak there ears eager for news of the outside world and their tongues eagerly wagging with the local gossip. All too soon a picture emerges of Logan ap Laughfly and his little cruelties, his pilfering and the hushed roamers of Sara’s fate

The household is assembled for the evening mea, Sara, is serving the lower tables this night out of the grasping reach of his lordship and his steward. The gentle strains of my harp lulling them and easing away the cares of the day. I rise from my seat by the hearth.

My Lord Fitzhues I ask a boon of your hospitality, a servant to attend my meager needs while I terry here. I cast my eye about the room, my arms lifts as I point to Sara.

“Yes that wench there, the calmly one waiting the lower tables………………She would have to be in immediate attendance both day and night me lord.”

A roar goes up from Lords Fitzhues men yet Logan ap Laughfly face is soar.

Bard you are a bold fellow indeed, brash, to boot, to make such a request.”

There is a deadly silence that descends upon the hall as Fitzhues rises.

take her I give her to you as a present not only for your stay but till you may tier of her services, for you are a brash fellow and would leave her here with child not doubt another moth to feed.

Logan ap Laughfly stalks off in anger as he sees his well laid plans evaporate.

I played a special ballad for his lordship about the steward who was untrustworthy, and the scenes where from the days gossip.

Bring Logan ap Laughfly to me and his accounts as well

“Come girl it is time to retire form this pleasant company I think.

 

[Tammi]

Thanking him for telling me his name, I quickly leave like he tells me to, but not without giving him a grateful smile for his understanding.

David ap Gillen, the bard, his name echo’s in my mind as I make my way back to my servants quarters. There is a smile on my face and I feel a gentle calm within me just at knowing his name.

“What took you so long girl! And why are you dressed like that?” Logan’s anger is very apparent, and I wonder how long he has been waiting. The smile quickly fades replaced by fear and I look at him, already feeling the tears gathering.

“Sir, I did as I was told….He wanted food and drink… He wanted me dressed…”

“You did not do as you were told and now you dare to look at me.” Logan’s eyes flare, his voice loud and I quickly look down, the platter in my hands shaking.

My words are lost on him. Grabbing my arm, he pushes me into my room taking the plate from me tossing it to the floor.

“You will clean that up later.” These words he speaks at the same time thrusting his hands between my legs.

I cry out, from the pain along with the humiliation I feel as he checks to make sure my maidenhood is still intact. My relief when he stops is short lived, the first sting of his hand takes my breath away. I lose tract of time, my weeping echoes through the quarters long after he leaves until finally sheer exhaustion overtakes me and I fall asleep on the floor.

****************************

I go through the next day doing what is required, hiding my face from all including those of the other servants. My body aches and I am relieved that I am told to serve the lower tables, away from his lordship and Logan’s hands and away from David’s gaze. Yet I listen intently to his music, once again feeling a calmness, making me forget for awhile of the pain Logan has caused.

When I hear David’s request of his lordship, I raise my eyes, seeing him pointing at me. Suddenly I feel all eyes are on me, I hear their roar, ashamed and fearful I look away trying to busy myself with my tasks. At the lordship’s gift of me to David, my heart pounds, knowing the anger this will cause Logan.

The next ballad I hear, David’s voice again so soft and gentle and the lyrics speak of things only other’s whisper about.

Bring Logan ap Laughfly to me and his accounts as well

Come girl it is time to retire form this pleasant company I think.

I follow him quietly, my emotions swirling, relieved at being taken from Logan yet confused and fearful of what may lay ahead as well as with his wish to have Logan brought to him. Once inside his room, I look up at him, my eyes still unsure and fearful.

“Thank you, Sir.”

My voice quivers for the kindness he has shown me yet I cannot tell his thoughts nor his intentions for wanting me day and night. Before anything else passes between us, an angry Logan storms into the room. I immediately look down, my body trembles and I back away, wishing I could take flight or somehow make myself invisible to Logan’s angry glare.

 

[cgraven]

All eyes are on Sara and I as we leave the Lord Fitzhues’s hall, the air alive with whispers and little smirks as they taunt Sara about now she’ll me a woman soon.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sara’s voice is a quivering whisper, yet now words can I speak of her, for Logan ap Laughfly, the cheating and scheming steward barges into the small guest chamber.

Platroon, deceiver, and liar how dare you speak of me such in the presence of his Lordship and his Household.”

“Master ap Laughfly, what do you mean I am just a singer of song, a spinner of tales, how have I wronged you?”

The man seizes with anger and his rage is barley held in check, his carefully laid plans for Sara ruined the money hoped to gain at the expense of her innocence thwarted. His hand flying to the dagger at his waist.

” Logan ap Laughfly Lord Fitzhues awaits your presences and your accounts

The measured voice of the keeps warden booms out, and his will enforced by four men at arms forces the Steward to withdraw for the long overdue accounting to his Lordship.

I turn to Sara my eyes soft my voice gentle.

“Are you all right Girl”

 

[Tammi]

I hold my head down with my eyes squeezed shut and my fingers are tightly laced through each other. Logan’s angry shouts even rumble the floor I’m standing on. I am bewildered by how David is so cool and calm, not recoiling like others have done when faced with Logan’s anger.

Wide eyed I look up at the sound of the warden’s voice and holding my breath watch his men take away my tormentor.

Are you all right Girl?

Flushed with an overwhelming relief I fall into his arms with my body trembling, my head to his chest.

“Oh thank you Sir. You have no idea… Thank you…”

My words rush forth in a whisper before I realize I am in the arms of the one I was gifted to and now supposed to serve and attend to. I quickly move away from him, my eyes cast down.

“I’m sorry Sir. I’m fine, thank you. I shall attend to the fire for you.”

I go to add wood to the fire having always been instructed by to do. My mind is flooded with what he thinks of my outburst and my belly is turning knots thinking of what my future holds in store.

 

[cgraven]

Sara’s Flushed, visibly shaken, she falls in to my arms as her persecutor is taken away to answer for his stewardship, and I feel that Lord Fitzhues id not a forgiving man. Sara’s head buried in my chest. Suddenly she draws back, eyes downcast as if a whipped cur.

“I’m sorry Sir. I’m fine, thank you. I shall attend to the fire for you.”

She goes about the familiar task her hands shaking, desperate for something to do. I stoop drawing Sara to her feet. And lift her chin so she is looking into my eyes.

“Sara the lord of this manor has gifted you to me; you are no longer a part of this household.”

My voice is quiet but firm, my eyes let her see the truth of my words.

“You where free born, Welsh……………..you are now an again free………… Free to determine your own destiny……………While I am here you will live in my protection………When I leave you may chose your own road or come with me.”

I enfold Sara in my arms and ease her head to my chest.

“Now you may cry my girl and let your tears wash away your grief, for truly you have been cruelly used by the fates.”

 

[Tammi]

The tears trickle down my face by this gift he is giving me and the cruelty he has taken me from. He can see a certain confusion in my eyes as I listen to him, having lived within this Keep for so long, I understand little of what being free is like anymore.

Now you may cry my girl and let your tears wash away your grief, for truly you have been cruelly used by the fates

Wrapped in the warmth and strength of his arms, my face covered against his chest, my tears flow, soaking his doublet. He patiently holds me until at last my tears subside, the grief easing from my body. I wipe the tears from my eyes and look up at him, his face gentle and kind.

“Thank you for all you have done for me, Sir. It has been a long time since anyone has been this kind to me. What is it that you wish for in return for my freedom….”

A blush crosses my face, my last words slipping, the lingering smirks and whispers of the others still lodged in my mind.

“I mean… is there something I can do to thank you for your protection and kindness?”

 

[cgraven]

“Thank you for all you have done for me, Sir. It has been a long time since anyone has been this kind to me. What is it that you wish for in return for my freedom….”

My hands cup Sara’s face my thumbs drying the tracks on her tear stained face. I kiss each of her eyelids and her forehead.

“I mean… is there something I can do to thank you for your protection and kindness?”

Sara’s cheeks are crimson her voice but a shy maidenly whisper.

“Freedom is given Sara to ask you for something in return would old make you my bonds woman and that is not freedom my sweet innocent girl”

 

[Tammi]

There is such gentleness in the way that he wipes the tears from my face and kisses my eyelids and forehead.

Freedom is given Sara to ask you for something in return would old make you my bonds woman and that is not freedom my sweet innocent girl.

His words are soft, soothing like his music, easing the trembling knots I feel. He seems so wise and knowing whereas my knowledge stifled from my life within the Keep.

“Sir, I know not much of this freedom you speak of, having always been told by either my family or the people of this Keep what to do.”

Searching his eyes, I recall a childhood memory and a soft smile begins to crease my lips. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently brush my lips to his cheek with a tender kiss.

“Thank you Sir, for your kindness.”

 

[cgraven]

Sara’s soft lips set a firry touch upon my cheek and a rye smile on my face.

“Thank you Sir, for your kindness.”

“”This nothing more than is your Welch birthright to be free Sara, the body may be held captive but not the mind lest you will it.”

My eyes sparkle as she stands there not knowing what to do with her freedom, all her life others have told her what to do, be it Sara’s parents, or the foul steward.


“Go gather your things and bring them back her me girl.”



A kiss to the crown of Sara’s head, a teasing smile, and a pat on her rump, to hurry her along.


“Now be quick about a new life awaits you dear.”

 

[Tammi]

The kiss upon my forehead and his smile make my heart feel light something I hadn’t felt in many a year, until I first heard his music. Smiling, happy to go get my things from my quarters and be away from that place, I turn and feel his pat on my rump.

I quickly look back at him, a blush across my face and giggle softly.

Now be quick about a new life awaits you dear.

Once out of the room, I dash to my quarters. This new life, I have no idea, but looking about my room and gathering the meager things I have, I can only pray that it be better than the one in this room.

I gather the few clothes and the one other chemise I have besides the one I have on. I pick up the hair brush that my mother had given me when Logan had taken me away, the only personal thing he had let me keep. Then hidden behind a piece of wood in the corner of the room, I take the small parchment of papers filled with poetry scribbled on them that my father had been trying to teach me to read, yet I had learned very little once I had come to the Keep.

Walking back to his room, I pass the servants, seeing them stare and whisper. My smile fades and I look down, avoiding looking at them, hurrying back to his room. Before I enter, I place the poetry in between the clothes I am carrying, unsure at what David will think if he sees this. I knock softly and then walk in the room, I look at him, then look away, then back at him, this all feeling so strange to me.

“Sir, these are all the things I have, it is not much, so will not take up much room. Where shall I put them?”

 

[cgraven]

“Sir, these are all the things I have, it is not much, so will not take up much room. Where shall I put them?”

Sara’s meager positions are truly pitiful. I hear the unmistakable rustle of parchment. But leave it go for the moment.

“Sara it will never do those chemises are tattered and meant for shall we say a child not a young woman graced with a delightful figure such as yours…. Beauty deserves beauty.”

I pause scathing my chin then my eyes light and I go to my traveling bag and rummage through it A book of verse in the Gallic our native language, and book of days for devotions, a cloak, other odd bits of this and that the contents strewn on the crude bed look twice what the bag could hold but bards have their secrets closely kept.

At last I find what I am searching for. a fine linen chemise embroidered in the geometric design so much apart of the Celtic people, a fine woolen skirt in saffron the royal color of the Irish a ladies griddle no commoner’s bodice, and a pair of fine Moroccan maroon boots soft as a baby cheeks. All the correct size for Sara as if they had been made for her.

“Ah now thses are yours Sara as I certainly have no use for these gifts, from the past. I think they will suit you better that I, I fear I have not the figure to properly wear them.”

I tease Sara my voice light and gay my eyes smiling into hers.

“Sara I do not need a servant but a friend to attend to my needs as I shall attend to hers.”

I see fear in Sara’s eyes, and the back of my hand gently caresses her cheek.”

Dear Sara be at easy child for I will not take anything that is not freely given girl.”

 

[Tammi]

Amazed, I watch as he withdraws item after item from his small bag and I wonder how in the heavens all could fit in there. I stare at the beautifully embroidered chemise, the woolen skirt and the ladies bodice, all of fine taste unlike the shabby tattered things I have worn.

I run my hands softly over each item, almost afraid to touch such divine things. I am bewildered not only that he had them, but that they look as if they would fit me perfectly. The boots, I can only imagine how they will feel, never having worn anything so soft on my feet before.

I think they will suit you better that I, I fear I have not the figure to properly wear them.

My fingers press to my lips, not being able to stop the giggling that escapes me from his teasing words and a vision of him wearing such garments. The smile in his eyes is bright, his voice filled with light laughter making me think he too saw my vision.

My heart warms when he tells of wanting a friend, not a servant, yet my pulse quickens and I fear when he speaks of attending my needs. He quickly notices and his hand is gentle against my cheek as reassures me, easing those fears.

“I would like to be your friend Sir, and help you. I have not been allowed friends while I have lived here and it would be an honor to be a friend to someone as kind as you.”

I smile at him, blushing softly, then again look at the garments he is given me, running my fingers gently over them.

“These are very beautiful. Thank you, Sir…”

I hesitate and my eyes glance about the room. Before I could put these beautiful things on, I would have to undress and wash the filth from my wounded body. I look back at him, still hesitant.

“Perhaps I shall wait until I have bathed in the stream so that I do not dirty these things. The servants are given early morning hours to cleanse themselves before their chores begin.”