Quietly Making Noise

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor am I ever likely to. I am making no money from this fic.

A wedding fic for the lovely and kind JenBachand. All the best, dear.

A good beta is better than gold to spend, but a good friend is better than air to breathe. I’m blessed to have both in one person…thanks to Kristen Elizabeth for the beta and so much more.

***
Grissom had roused himself enough to light the lamps and one of the wall torches when a page came timidly through the door. “Yes?”

The page bowed and mumbled something unintelligible to his knees.

“What?”

The young boy rose, stuttered and finally spoke. “Hail, m’lord mage.” He took a deep, fortifying breath. “His majesty the King summons you to the Great Hall for an audience.”

Grissom had been expecting the directive before his wits had been so thoroughly scattered by Lady Sara’s gift. “I will gather some items and be there anon.”

Evidently relieved he had not been transformed into a forest creature or reduced to a pile of cinders (as the other, older pages had no doubt told him the mage was capable of if vexed) the boy smiled, bowed and beat a hasty retreat down the winding stone steps of the tower.

Muttering to himself about distractions and fanciful notions and not being a young man anymore, he gathered his gifts for the King and Queen, tucking them into the clever pockets sewn into his cloak. He donned the garment and left his tower.

He moved at a steady, but stately pace down the winding stone stairs lit by the flickering flames of torches in their wall sconces. The sounds of music and laughter reached his ears long before he reached the Great Hall.

Servants scurried, passing him in the corridors with distracted bows and nods, intent on carrying their burdens and carrying out their duties. In one darkened alcove there was a whispered and urgent conversation between unseen lovers, no doubt arranging an assignation away from prying eyes.

The smell of sage and wood smoke hung heavily in the air as he approached the Great Hall. He stood silently to the side of the entry, close by the screens, and observed the scene within the Hall. The musicians played a merry tune while conversation and games went on around them. The arrangement had not changed since his journey began; there were still the same tables and benches, the musician’s corner, the raised dais for the chairs of the King and Queen, the tapestries along the walls.

The mage tried to simply survey the room, its occupants and activities as was his custom, but his eyes involuntarily sought out the Lady Sara.

She sat on a long bench in the corner furthest from the musicians with two of her young cousins. The youngest was nearly asleep against her side. She was conversing quietly with her middle cousin. She had changed into a surcoat of red but wore the same belt at her waist and her hair was now covered by a thin veil topped with a circlet. The light from the nearby candles gave a soft glow to her skin and the flames danced in her eyes as she smiled at the young one. As he watched, one of the lords from the lower table approached and spoke to her. She shook her head slightly at whatever the man asked. Frowning, he walked away.

He found himself feeling a sense of satisfaction at the man’s retreat but decided to analyze the feeling later. As for now, he had an appearance to make.

None noticed the quiet entrance of the mage through the screens passage until he was in the center of the room, approaching the King’s dais. All conversation ceased and the musicians came to a shuddering halt. The hush that rippled over the room was far more noticeable than the loudest of uproars.

As he stood in front of the royal dais, his bow was sweeping and low, made all the more impressive by the silence that had descended on the hall.

“My lord mage. Welcome home.” The King’s greeting was sincere, if not especially warm.

Grissom knew his work was respected and appreciated by his king though they were not close friends. The King was a smart man, a political man, capable of war, but understanding the greater economic merit of peace. Grissom also knew the ruler appreciated value of his mage; he was wiser in the ways of the world than any other, knew more potions and cures than the doctor or the apothecary, could discern a liar and a thief and provide proof of the discerning. The mage knew the King understood his work was based on the laws of nature, observation and logic but he still sometimes felt the same superstitious undercurrent of fear that others displayed in his presence; well hidden, to be sure, but there nonetheless.

“Thank you, majesty.” Grissom rose and then bowed again in the direction of the Queen.

The Queen gave him a warm smile. She fully believed him capable of magic and held him in high affection for it.

After the birth of two girl children and too many heartbreaking stillbirths and infants dead after only a few days, she had come to fear she was too old to ever give her husband an heir. She was three months gone with a pregnancy that had her alternately afraid to leave her bed and bent to the knees continually retching when the mage had come to the castle. After some consultation, she had taken his potions and advice.

Under his care she had delivered and cared for a healthy son. That prince was soon followed by two others; all three robust, lively boys that terrorized the kitchen maids and were, in turn, terrorized by the stable cats.

“Lord Grissom, we are most delighted that you have returned to us,” the Queen addressed him genially.

“I thank you, highness. It is good to have returned to familiar ground.” His lips moved into a slight smile.

The King shifted in his chair. “You were missed, Grissom. Shall we retire that I may hear of your travels?” The King well knew the mage would not share any tales in a large group and though it was blamed on the mage being a peculiar and secretive sort, the King knew the significance of the knowledge was best imparted to him in private. It only enhanced his power.

Grissom bent slightly. “As you wish, majesty. But first, may I present you and the Queen with a token of my travels?”

With a regal flick of his hand, the King acquiesced and sat back in his chair.

The sudden gasp of those present in the hall let the mage know his sleight of hand had been quick enough to make it look as though the weapon had materialized in his hand. The light from the torches and the oil lamps hit the lustrous blade and caused the jewel encrusted hilt to sparkle with a thousand gleaming fires. He held the extra long dagger carefully, balanced flat on both hands, with the blade pointed towards his own stomach and the hilt towards the King, in the most non threatening posture he could. He wanted none of the royal guard to mistake his intent.

Eagerly, the King sat forward. “Is that a dirk?”

Grissom knew of the King’s fascination with weapons, but he had an especially fondness for knives of all kinds. He inclined his head. “Aye, majesty.”

The older man motioned the mage forward. Carefully and gracefully, he extended the dirk to the King and then stepped back as the long dagger was examined. The King’s appreciation was palpable. “I have never seen one so fine.” He traced the ruby in the hilt and studied the rolling scroll work of the filigreed gold. “Lord Grissom, I thank you.” His voice was deep and pleased.

“You are most heartily welcome, my liege.” Another twist of his hands within his robes and a pool of purple silk overflowed from his arms causing an even larger and much more feminine gasp to rise from the crowd. “For you, my Queen.” He stepped forward and extended the material into her trembling fingers.

Her eyes were round and wide as she reverently grasped the silk. “My lord mage…” She swallowed heavily. “There is more than enough here for a surcoat or better. I am overwhelmed at such generosity.”

“Majesty, it will pale in comparison to your beauty, but I am most glad it pleases you.”

Cheeks tinged a slight pink, she gave him an indulgent smile. “Save your honeyed phrases for those who will believe them. I will take this pretty silk, instead of your pretty words and give you, in turn, my thanks.”

Smiling gently at her, he bowed low, pleased his gifts had been had been so well received. As he rose, his gaze landed on the bright eyes of Lady Sara and he felt his heart warm as he remembered her gift to him; he inclined his head towards her and was rewarded with a wide, luminous smile.

“Come m’lord mage.” The King rose. “Let us adjourn from this company that you may regale me with news of the Northern lands.”

With one last brief glance at the Lady Sara, the mage followed the King from the Hall through the ante-chamber into his private sitting room. A servant followed with two tankards of ale and a board of bread and cheese. The maid rounded the room, lighting the lamps and torches then bowed herself out of the room leaving the monarch and the mage alone.

Sighing, the King shrugged out his mantle and threw himself into a chair. “Sit, Grissom.” He indicated the chair nearest his own. “You must be weary. Have a draught, help yourself to the bread.”

“My thanks.” He sat and began the tale of the points of his journey he knew the King would be most interested in, conveying what he knew of the state of politics, crops and trade in the North. He included news of the port and trading center where he had visited. While the King sipped his ale, Grissom relayed what he had observed and heard through the long months of travel what knowledge would benefit his King.

“And your own business? That was resolved to your satisfaction?” The King’s seemingly casual inquiry hid a lively curiosity and a touch of paranoia, the mage knew. He had not shared all of the reasons for his journey; thought the King sponsored his work, the same benefited the kingdom. Grissom had sworn fealty but he retained a measure of independence as part of their agreement.

“It was, majesty.” He made a careless gesture. “I was able to see to my family business and acquire some items I had been unable to easily obtain the last few years. I have also acquired several new instruments that will help with my work.”

“Good,” the King nodded. “Have you anything else to report?”

Grissom sat forward somewhat. “I walked the forest road, through the village to the castle.”

The King gave a small laugh and slinging an arm over the back of his chair, questioned, “And what say you?” This was always an enlightening conversation for the monarch. Whether the mage was capable of actual magic or not, there was none with a keener eye and his observations had oft proved most valuable.

“I would suggest you speak to the master of the hunt. The grouse are being over hunted, they will all be gone from the forest if this continues.”

“But we must have more meat than the few cattle we have,” the King protested.

Lord Grissom spread his hands in a passive gesture. “Has the hunt brought any rabbit back of late?”

The King blinked at the mage and after a moment, shook his head.

“Yet they begin to overrun the wood.” He leaned back. “If your majesty will send the master of the hunt to my tower, I will show him a trap I brought back from the North; the design is clever, but easy to construct. I suspect the ease of catching the fowl over the rabbits has influenced the huntsman’s choice.” He sat back. “Additionally, the shepherds report an increase in lambing this season. Mutton will abound this year while still making up for the flocks’ losses of last year. All of the crops save the wheat are doing well; but there may be some concern for bread, so meat will become increasingly important through the autumn and winter. However, failing any pranks by the earth, the year will a bountiful one and the people and kingdom will prosper.”

The King studied him quietly for a few minutes. “I will send the master of the hunt to you on the morrow.” He gave a slight shake of his head. “I sometimes find myself more concerned with the politics of lands and alliances I forget the most basic need of the people is food. I am glad to have you back for these reminders alone, Grissom.”

“Your majesty has weightier matters to consider than the fate of the forest grouse. All can be balanced with a bit of effort and all can be achieved with balance.”

The King smiled faintly. “It is just that mindset that I have need of on another matter.”

The mage inclined his head. “I am at your service, majesty.”

“The Queen’s nephew journeyed South some time ago and has not been heard from. I suspect he has met his end either by accident or brigand.” His tone of voice was emotionless, but the mage felt himself frowning. “The Queen doubts this, though I fear it is her attachment to the young man that keeps her hopeful; she even refuses to speak of the prospect of his death to her niece, the Lady Sara.”

“How may I serve you in this matter?” Grissom hoped his voice did not sound as wary as he felt.

“If, as I suspect, the young lord is dead, his lands become his sister’s and that makes for both a boon and a burden to the crown.” He carved a hunk of bread from the loaf, stabbing a chunk of cheese with the knife.

“A burden and a boon?” Grissom’s brow furrowed thoroughly and he felt a tendril of apprehension curl within his stomach.

The King ripped off a piece of bread and gestured with it. “The Sidle lands are not vast, but they are situated close enough to the southern border to be invaded and taken without men to protect it and a lord to lead those men. Who controls those lands controls a vital stepping stone; whether ‘tis a step to peace or to war depends upon the man who holds the land. The ruler of the South has given the lands bordering the Sidle lands to a soldier I have no fondness for. He has been made a Duke, but a new title does not make him a new man. He is a warrior and he is hungry for both land and conflict.” He put the bread in his mouth, followed by a bite of the cheese and chewed. “I believe as long as the land is stable, he dare not encroach on our borders. However, if he perceives any weakness he will act, swiftly and ruthlessly.”

The mage had an idea where the King’s mind had turned and he wondered at the sinking feeling within his chest.

“The stability of the border depends on the stability of the Sidle lands and its lord.” Swallowing, the older man continued, “Here to fore, the young lord has resisted either a marriage of alliance for himself or his sister. If he has, in fact, perished, it will be imperative to marry the girl off as expeditiously as possible.”

Grissom pursed his lips but replied easily enough. “I am sure there will be no end to candidates for the Lady Sara’s hand.”

“I am sure of that as well.” He buried the knife point in the board. “But I don’t just want someone who wants her, it must be someone who can guard her lands and keep them safe. Someone already loyal to the crown, yet, someone that needs be closer, that an alliance of lands and marriage will ensure their constancy. It must be an alliance that allows this lord to see his prosperity is entwined with the kingdom’s so I need not worry about him taking the lands and going to war against me along with the Duke.”

Keeping his face impassive, Grissom attempted to tamp down his feelings. The political strategy was brilliant, but the thought of it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Lady Sara was not a commodity to be bartered away; the thought of the quiet girl with the quick mind serving at the behest of a man she did not choose, nor maybe even know, sickened him. The King, however, seemed to expect an answer; he gave as little as he could. “A weighty problem.”

“Indeed,” the King agreed. “Compounded by the fact, my wife, the Queen, has made me promise to look for her nephew. I have given my oath to send riders to his lands and to the south and wait until the winter solstice to declare him lost to us and begin arrangements for the Lady Sara to be wed.”

The mage felt the weight that rested on him lighten somewhat. It was not yet midsummer; there was more than half a year for the young lord of Sidle to find his way home. “Most generous of you, my liege.”

A hearty and dismissive snort came from the monarch. “Generous? I think not. Foolish, is more to the liking of it. A woman’s wiles applied in the right way will bring the most powerful man to his knees, I fear.”

Mouth half quirked, the mage wisely withheld a response. The King was well and truly smitten with his wife and cared not who knew, oft joking at his own expense how he was made a slave by a small, quiet woman. He continued, “While we wait out the time, I require your skills in the matter.”

Grissom inclined his head. “And how am I to serve my king?”

“First, I would ask that you speak with those that know of the young lord’s journey and determine the way for the riders to go. Counsel them as best you can on ways to look and observe. I know none of them have your skill for observation or your wisdom of the world, but do the best you can.” He paused, waiting for acceptance.

Which, of course, came immediately. “I will do as you will, majesty.”

“For the rest, I require your counsel. While I promised the Queen no arrangement of marriage would be made until the solstice, I will still be considering the choices available, the alliances needed.” Grudgingly, the King nodded toward his mage. “I know of no one that reads the hearts of men so well as you. In order to make the most of the accord I will need to know the minds of the lords before us.”

There seemed to be something stuck in his throat as he agreed, “Aye, majesty.”

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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