Quietly Making Noise

Disclaimer: As if. Nope. Not mine.

For the lovely JenBachand and her groom, Gataca42…as the countdown to the wedding begins, I hope this offers you a smile or two, Jen.

Major shout out to the uber amazing Kristen Elizabeth. She is the world’s best cheerleader and beta extraordinaire…this would not have been started much less posted without her help and encouragement.

***

After they had moved along for a bit in comfortable silence, he ventured a look at her. “My lady, may I ask, why you were hiding amongst the tree tops?”

She raised her nose in the air. “I was not hiding.”

Conceding his point at his droll look, she allowed, “I was not hiding at first.” His forehead wrinkled and she sighed. “I did not set out with the intent to hide. I only thought to enjoy the afternoon in the wood. I had climbed up on the lowest branch to sit. I saw you coming from a distance, though mind, I did not know it was you. Then I heard Judith calling and I was not quite ready to go back yet, so, I climbed a little higher.”

Curiously, she turned to him. “How did you know I was in the tree? Did you see me?”

“Not at first; there was no birdsong or squirrel chatter from that tree, but an overabundance from its neighbors.” Pursing his lips, he inclined his head. “Something had chased the tree’s inhabitants from their home…and the neighbors were protesting.”

“Ah! You are very quick, my lord. I would not have been so clever.”

“You do yourself an injustice. You say you were not hiding, that was not your intent. Yet, you were clever enough to wear a dress that would blend in with the tree.” He quirked an eyebrow at her and she laughed merrily.

They walked along the forest path and exchanged news. She made him smile with her descriptions of her cousin’s new home and the people there. He described the new book of tales he had acquired the summer before saying he would loan it to her, smiling when she accepted before he was even finished with the offer. She listened with rapt attention as he described the trading center where he met a mage from the Orient and a scholar from India, how he had passed weeks in their company and they had shared the gifts of their works with him and he with them.

The last letter he had received from her had been in the autumn before his journey North. He had not realized until this moment how much he had missed his contact with her nor had he realized from her letters how much she had matured. The same sharp and hungry mind was there in her rapid fire questions, but there was a more thoughtful quality to her observations, a surety to her answers that had not been present three years prior.

They strolled along the path easily, as old friends; yet, he could not help but notice how the beams of sunlight breaking through the trees seemed to touch her reverently, lighting her hair with gentle fire, illuminating the curves and angles of her face.

As he watched, a butterfly landed on her shoulder.

She stilled as the small creature rested upon her, slowly opening and closing its colorful wings. He could see her lightly inhaling, barely exhaling in an attempt to not disturb the insect. Her quiet calm took on a beauty all its own and he watched her, transfixed, as she studied the slight movements of the tiny being.

After a moment, it took wing and Sara watched it go with a look of delight. “Such beauty,” she breathed.

“Yes,” he quietly agreed.

Blushing slightly, she began walking again. “I have heard, m’lord mage, that you have acquired another pupil in my stead.”

“Gregory.” He gave a put upon sigh. “I would not call him a pupil so much as a helper. His first year did not go well, but he has improved. If he finishes this year out well, I have promised to make him my apprentice.”

“He is lucky to have the opportunity.” She looked down at her feet as she fiddled with the bell of her sleeve. “Is it all right if I…may I still come to the tower some times?” Absently, she toed the dirt with her slipper.

A slow smile spread upon his face. “I would be honored.”

When they came to the village Judith materialized in front of them, breathless and sweating. “Oh, my lord, you found her! My thanks to you.”

Biting back a smile, the mage responded easily. “Indeed I did. She had gotten somewhat off the path in the forest and was most anxious to set your mind at rest once she knew you were seeking her.”

The maid tutted over the young woman, pulling a stray leaf from her hair. “Well, then back to the keep with you, my lady.” She tossed a hurried curtsy at Lord Grissom, “Thank you again, m’lord.”

The mage bowed to the women, eyes twinkling. “Maid Judith. Lady Sara.”

Sara curtsied deeply, “Lord Grissom.” And then gave an unladylike squawk as the maid began pulling her back towards the castle.

It took her a minute to find her feet and follow along, shaking her head ruefully. She turned her head to smile over her shoulder at her former teacher, delighting in his answering, outrageous wink.

He stood in place for a long time, watching the women head along the castle road, enjoying the lazy sway of Sara’s gown over her hips.

***

The throng of the market day crowd had abated somewhat, so he took his time as he moved from stall to stall, examining the food and wares, making the occasional purchase but mainly listening to the sellers and buyers exchanging news and gossip.

He learned the elderly squire to the west had died and his young, pretty wife had not observed the year of mourning, but had married the squire’s son from his first marriage within a fortnight of the squire’s death and was now heavy with child. He learned the king’s huntsman was spending more time in the tavern than the forest and the apple crop would be especially fine this year. The rye and barley were doing well, but the wheat had suffered from the cooler temperatures at planting time. He learned the local shepherds had reported more sets of twins during lambing than any other year and that a pair of swans had nested close to the willows at the lake, near the fishermen’s favorite launching spot and several had been chased quite aggressively by the male (the bird had even bitten one); the fishermen had now found a new favorite launching spot.

And he learned what he already knew: the Queen’s niece had returned from her cousin’s court in the West.

Clearing the market stalls, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the gate to the castle road. The Captain of the Guard was a stocky man of limited stature with a craggy face and a dark wit, but the mage knew him to be an honest and loyal man. They made surprising but good friends; perhaps it was both their natures to tend toward solitary pursuits that made them such good company for each other. No matter, each found within the other company when it was wanted and quiet support when it was needed.

“Captain James.” The mage extended his hand.

The captain in turn extended his hand, “Lord Grissom.” They grasped each others forearm in hearty greeting.

“Back from your roguish wanderings, I see.” The older man clapped his hand on the mage’s shoulder.

“Indeed. I had hoped to be home more than a week ago but the rains kept us from travel on several days.” He leaned against his staff to address his friend. “What tidings have you, my friend?”

“There is not much news other than the usual and what you have gathered from the market stalls.” He inclined his head towards the tavern. “Still, if you would take a moment to share a draught with an old friend, I will do my best to enlighten you to all the happenings you missed.”

The mage smiled. “I would that I could. I am afraid I must check on Gregory’s progress in unloading from our trip. However, should you choose to come to the tower when you are next off duty, I might have returned from the northern climes with something you would like better than the draught from the tavern.”

Smiling broadly, James countered, “As there is very little in this world I like better than the tavern’s offering, I will take that as a challenge and see you this evening.”

“After first watch?”

The captain nodded. “Aye.”

They clasped forearms again and the mage started up the castle road.

He was hailed by several people as he made his way across the grounds and through the castle to his tower. Keeping his answers brief and his manner distracted, he was able to keep from being detained, but it still took him longer than he had anticipated to reach his tower. Gregory was hanging the last of the cache of dried herbs they had acquired on the journey.

Grissom removed his cloak with an unconscious flourish and hung it on a peg by the door. As he turned he noticed a scroll on his otherwise clear workspace. “What is this?”

Gregory shrugged. “I know not. It was here when I arrived. Something from the King perhaps?” He dusted his hands and turned. “Will that be all then, m’lord?”

Distracted, the mage picked up the scroll. “Yes. I will see you on the morrow.” He had several in his library, but most were of old, even ancient works. Most works that came to him these days were in codex form.

The wooden dowels were smooth and highly polished. The material was vellum. He began to unroll the scroll and a smaller, less expensive piece of parchment fell out. He ignored it for a moment as his eyes were caught by the words and art. Cleverly copied and beautifully illuminated, he recognized a work that had been composed some forty years previously, before he had even been born but he had read the words within countless times, nonetheless. A guide to what herbs and plants to use in the healing of common, and some uncommon, ailments stared back at him.

Taking a deep breath, he bent to retrieve the small scrap of parchment and read the carefully scripted words.

My lord mage,

Please accept this humble offering as my gift to you with thanks for all you have taught me and if I may be so bold, in hopes of learning more.

I am particularly interested in your father’s work with Verbascum thapsus. He sees much more use for it than most herbalists.

Please forgive my presumption as I say, I hope to discuss it with you soon.

Sara

He sat on the bench with the scroll on the table and her parchment in his hands as the light began to fade and wondered if there was any cure in his father’s work for the tangled feeling in his stomach and the uneven thumping of his heart.

Madrigal-Chapter 1
Madrigal-Chapter 2
Madrigal-Chapter 3
Madrigal-Chapter 4
Madrigal-Chapter 5
Madrigal-Chapter 6
Madrigal-Chapter 7
Madrigal-Chapter 8
Madrigal-Chapter 9
Madrigal-Chapter 10
Madrigal-Chapter 11
Madrigal-Chapter 12

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