It's Not So Bad...

We have had a little taste of winter lately.  But it wasn't all that bad here in the woods.

Though the Fuzz did see where some folks weren't so lucky.

But here is a little sign that Spring is not so far off!

The Fuzz was a little surprised to see these guys, but one must admit, it is an encouraging sign.
Enjoy!

Schwan (7 News from Home)

The Fuzz says here's another chapter of this little tail of imaginary people and an imaginary kingdom.
And just in case you might have missed something, this tale can be read from the beginning at "Schwan" in the sidebar at the right.

7 News from Home

When Rolf came that morning, Fredrik was waiting for him.  He wasted no time.

"I need you to do something for me," he said.

"Thank you, and I hope you slept well also, Your Majesty," Rolf laughed.

Fredrik was embarrassed.  He hadn't realized how abrupt he'd been.  Then, he laughed at himself.

"And what's so important so early this morning?" Rolf asked with amusement.

"Rolf, there is this girl..." he began, but stopped when he saw the look Rolf was giving him.

"No… I didn't sleep with her... Well I did... But I didn't…"

"You sound confused about it, don't you remember?"

"No…  I mean yes, I remember.  She spent the night here with me.  I want to know more about her.  Her name is Elise, and I believe she works in the castle kitchens."

"I thought you gave that up, after Paris."

"You know I did.  This is different."

Rolf could see that he was serious.

"You know you are King Fredrik now, Your Majesty."

Fredrik walked over to the window, and looked out.

"I know that Rolf."  Then after a long pause he added, "You're a lucky man, Rolf.  And you don't even realize it."

✠

Rolf puzzled over Fredrik's words as he crossed the courtyard to where the main kitchens were.  Fredrik would be occupied most of the day with the Duke and his daughters.  The rumor in castle was, that he was to marry one of them.  Rolf had had a glimpse of them.  Neither was bad looking.  In that respect, a man might do worse.

But now his job was to find this "Elise".  And Fredrik had made it clear that she was not to know who he was.

The kitchen area was crowded, smokey, and filled with activity.  In addition to the Duke and his guests, the rest of the castle must be fed.  Rolf knew he was out of place the moment he entered.  When he finally asked about Elise, a man pointed across the room to a young woman chopping cabbages.  She had not noticed him.

As he started in her direction, he was blocked by an older woman who glared fiercely up into his face.

"Leave her alone," she hissed.  "I suppose now you'll all want her!"

Rolf was taken aback at this, and protested -

"No... No... You don't understand."

"I understand all right.  Leave her alone.  Let her be happy; at least for today."

"But, King Fredrik..."

"King Fredrik!" she sneered.  "She thinks he's in love with her!  She doesn't even know who he is!"

Rolf decided to take a chance.

"But, he is." 

Anna gave him a funny look.

"Who are you, and what do you know about it?"

"Can we talk?"

Anna glanced over at the head cook.  He was busy.  She led Rolf to a side door that opened out into a small herb garden.

As Rolf talked with Anna, he could see Elise though the half opened door.  She had a slight smile, and a faraway look to her.

"She's not usually like that," Anna told him.  "The cook is hard on her."  Then she added, "But even he is leaving her alone today."

"King Fredrik sent me to find out who she is, and whatever else I can."

"Why does he care?  He is to marry Lady Juliet."

"He has never said that."

"How do you know what this King says?" she asked scornfully.

"I've known Fredrik since childhood, we're like brothers."

Anna gave him a skeptical look.  But he seemed in earnest.  And she did remember a story she had heard somewhere, a long time ago, where a Midmontian Queen, had begun life as a village girl.

"Is it true that your Queen was a commoner?"

"That was Fredrik's grandmother."

Anna gave a long sigh.  What if it were true?

“Alright.  What do you want to know?"

✠

Fredrik spent the morning with the Duke and his two daughters, Juliet the oldest, and her younger sister, Marianne.  The two Women were on their best behavior, and the conversation was polite.  But Fredrik's mind was somewhere else.  Eventually, the Duke excused himself, claiming some business with the Archbishop.

The ladies insisted on taking Fredrik for a tour of the castle.  They started at the highest tower, and worked their way down from there.  The fortress rose on a rocky spur of the last mountain at the mouth of the valley.  The town below was walled, and just outside it's walls, was the river.

St. Petersbridge took it's name from the old Roman bridge which spanned the river here.  The smaller river flowing from Midmont, met the larger, navigable, Black River here.  Crossing the bridge was the old trading road, which wound it's way south and up the mountains to Midmont.  In the other direction it was the main route into the Archbishop's realm.

Fredrik looked out over the river wharfs, and the fertile fields beyond.  Then he turned his gaze to the narrow valley that led to Midmont, and home.  He missed it already.

They walked the battlements and saw the armory and family apartments.  Fredrik made a point of memorizing the lay out of the castle.  Eventually they made their way down to the dungeon.  It appeared to be well used.  Then came the stables, and finally a quick peek into the kitchens.

And there he saw her.  Elise was working hard at some task.  Fredrik wanted to linger and watch, but didn't dare.  He was relieved that she never looked up.  But Anna had seen him.  He had no idea who she was, but when he saw her staring at him, he hastily stepped back outside.

But Anna had seen him with Juliet and Marianne.  She had no doubt who he was.  And she had also seen how his eyes had lingered on Elise.  Perhaps Rolf was right.  Perhaps there was something there.

As they crossed the courtyard to the castle, Fredrik's thoughts were elsewhere.  And this was obvious to the two sisters.

"What can be on his mind?" Juliet said to her sister.

"It must be some weighty affair of state," she replied with a giggle.

This brought Fredrik out of his reverie.

"No, no, I was just thinking of something,"

They were walking on both sides of him now.  Each had an arm.

"Something, or… someone?"  It was Juliet teasing him.  Then she said to her sister, "You know how men are."

"Is she pretty?"  This time it was Marianne.

Fredrik certainly didn't want to talk about Elise with them.  But he was surprised at how close they were to the truth.  Then he noticed Rolf standing with Friar John in the courtyard.  They motioned for him to join them.

Fredrik excused himself.  Ladies Juliet and Marianne made their way into the castle, laughing at his discomfort- Juliet tossing a teasing smile back toward him.

✠

Fredrik led Rolf and the monk to his room in the tower, and closed the door.

"Princess Lillian has sent a messenger to Friar John at the abby," Rolf explained to him.

Then the monk told Fredrik what he had learned from the Ranger.

"Poisoned.."  Fredrik said thoughtfully.   "And The Duke was behind it?"

"That's what we believe.  Lillian was having Slythain arrested when he left."

"I never did trust that bastard."

"There's more," the monk told him.  "The Ranger encountered a Morlanian on the road, and also a courier from the Duke's spies in Waterton."

"And?"

"He killed them both."

"Good.  I'll want to thank this man personally."

Fredrik thought for a moment.

"Can we assume that the Duke knows nothing of this?"

When Rolf shrugged, Fredrik added, "We may be in danger when he learns of it."

Then he told Rolf;

"Have everyone prepared to leave on a moment's notice."

Rolf nodded and opened the door to leave.  But Fredrik stopped the monk.

"Friar John, I have something to talk with you about."

Then Rolf left, closing the door behind him.

   

Going to the Tree Bank

Not long ago The Fuzz went into the woods for some firewood.

It's not all gone yet... But with all this winter we've been having lately, it was going up in smoke fast.

So it was time for another round of woodcutting.

While The Fuzz is kinda susceptible to that P-Factor, he was ready for this one.

With all the snow & ice the ground would be much too soggy to take his vehicle into the woods.  So it was time to make a withdrawal from the Tree Bank.

The Tree Bank is when The Fuzz finds a dead or dying tree and marks it for later.

The ones closest to the trailer are saved for when he needs wood in a hurry and close to home.

This seemed  like the right time for this one.

It came down pretty easily- no hangups in the other trees, which is not only a pain in the ass, but a bit dangerous.

Now all that was left was to cut the sucker up.

The Fuzz started at the top since those pieces wouldn't have to be split.  Then he worked his way down from there until he ran out of gas.  That was when he realized there was no more chain oil.

Oh well.

Well, he and His Sweetie had been cooped up since the snow had started, so they were ready for a ride into town anyway.  It was a chance to take care of some errands and a tasty Thai dinner.

The next day The Fuzz got back on the job.

What was left was the main trunk.  In this area it was straddling this depression.

The Fuzz was hoping to be able to cut this thing up without having to roll it around.*  So he drove a couple of smaller pieces up under it so that  when he cut it in half, it would still be off the ground-

And it worked!

Now it was time to fire up the old log splitter.

This guy can be a bit unhappy about getting going in cold weather.  I suppose that is a hint that one should cut one's wood ahead of time!

But Our Fuzz has a few tricks up his sleeve.  It this case his trusty can of ether.**

The splitting was a lot of work, but went okay.

He switched to vertical mode for the last few-and largest- pieces. 

So now there is once again, a respectable woodpile.  The Fuzz is hoping it'll last through the rest of the winter.

*In these situations one does not want to let one's chain cut into the ground.  It kinda messes things up.

**He used this stuff for years to get his old truck crunk in the morning to get in to work.

Schwan (6 Swords on the Road)

And so it's time for another chapter of this little tail of imaginary people and an imaginary kingdom.
And just in case you might have missed something, this tale can be read from the beginning at "Schwan" in the sidebar at the right.

6 Swords on the Road

The Queen's Own Guard was a mostly ceremonial company.  It was made up of retired Guardsmen and Rangers.  But Lillian knew them as a company of grizzled veterans, with a lifetime of loyalty to the crown.  With the Queen still in mourning, and secluding herself, command had passed to the Princess.

Slythain's spies had reported Karl's departure from the city to him. Slythain was sure that he was carrying an urgent message to Fredrik.  He also knew that the Princess had been consulting the physician, and feared the worst.  He was penning a hasty message to the Duke when his door was thrown open.  Several members of the Queen's Guard entered.

He tried to throw the message into the small fire on the hearth, but was too late.  One of the "old men" delivered a cuff to his head that sent him sprawling.  Two more jerked him from the floor to his feet.  He abandoned any thought of resistance, as he was dragged before Princess Lillian.

There, he was thrown roughly to the floor at her feet.

"Please, Your Highness," he began, but was cut short by another blow to the head which knocked him to the floor again.

Finally, Lillian spoke.

"Is there anything you wish to tell us?"

"This is all a mistake," Your Highness he began, struggling to his knees.

One of the Guardsmen made to strike him again, but the Princess raised her hand and stopped him.  She held the singed, half written message in her hand.

"Take this traitor to the deepest dungeon," she said, turning away.

"Please, your Highness," he begged.  But another blow knocked him to the floor.  This time, the Princess did not interfere.

✠

When he saw the Queen's Guardsmen enter Slythain's chamber, Potten feared the worst.  If they had discovered Slythain, he would surely be next.  He did not expect Slythain to hold out long under torture; he was not the type.  He hastily gathered some things into a bag, and slipped out of the castle.

It wasn't difficult.  The Gatekeepers were used to seeing him leave at odd hours on Slythain's errands.  He hoped to escape before any alarms were raised.

He strode quickly through the deserted streets to one of the less reputable inns.  Here he procured a horse.  

At the City Gate, he was stopped by the Guardsmen.  As they questioned him, a man was heard approaching at a run.  

"By order of the Crown; no one is to leave the city!" he shouted.

But in that brief moment of confusion, Potten spurred his mount past the watchmen, and fled into the night.  They stood watching helplessly.

✠

Karl rode on at a brisk trot in the moonlight, skirting the lake.  Soon the valley narrowed and he came to the outlet of the lake.  Here, the water flowed over a rocky shoal, and descended into a narrow gorge.

The road followed the river into the gorge.  On one side was the river, on the other the the bank rose steeply upward, into the forest.  From time to time the road crossed over the stream on stone arches.  As he neared the falls the river fell away, and the road clung to one side of the gorge, high above.

Above the Great Falls, the road was cut into the side of the cliff.   This was the gateway to Midmont.  It could be defended by a handful of men against an army if necessary.  But in times of peace, it was only a deserted place along a lonely road.

Karl reined in his horse.  He had an uneasy feeling.  He watched from the shadows under the trees.  And then he saw some movement ahead.  A man moved into the moonlight.  After a moment, Karl could see a horse standing nearby.

It could be a Ranger patrolling the road, but that was unlikely.  The horse was too large, more like the type used in the lowlands of Morlana.  And there was something about the man's dress that was not right.  He seemed to be waiting for something- or someone.  Karl was sure it was not himself.

But, he had to pass.  He thew back his hood, and adjusted his cloak to make sure he had free movement.  He loosened his sword in it's scabbard and was about to move forward, when he suddenly stopped.  He heard hoofbeats behind him.  His blood ran cold.

There was no place to hide.  He had been ready to challenge one man, but two were too many.  He was sure that the rider behind him was in league with the one blocking the road.  Yet, he had his duty.  There was no more time to think about it.  In a desperate move, he spurred his horse forward, and drew his sword.

The man in the road was taken completely by surprise.  He had been expecting Slythain's messenger, Potten, not an armed rider bearing down on him.  He ran to his horse and mounted clumsily.  He barely had his own sword in hand when Karl was upon him.

It was a one sided fight.  Karl was well trained, and had the advantage of surprise.  In less then a minute, the man was on the ground, and his horse had bolted.  But it was long enough for Potten to arrive, his own sword already drawn.  Karl had barely enough time to turn to face him.

This fight was different.  Potten was a decent swordsman, and he was desperate, himself.  There was little room for the horses on the narrow road.  They were crowded together with barely room to swing their swords.  Karl had been cut twice already and now they were locked together, each straining to throw the other down.

Now Potten leaned back and took a swipe at the leg of Karl's horse.  It was only a slight cut, but the horse reared up, kicking out with it's hooves.  They struck Potten's mount, and it stepped back to keep it's footing.  One hoof stepped into air, and the other slipped back amid a shower of loose stones.  In what seemed like slow motion, horse and rider slid over the edge, and with a shriek, disappeared into the darkness below.

Karl spoke soothingly to his horse to calm it down.  He looked down at the dead man, laying in the road.  Now there was no sound other than the roar of the falls below.  

He dismounted and examined his horse's wound.  Once he was satisfied it was not serious, he searched the dead man.  He found nothing, but was satisfied that he was Morlanian.  

Karl pushed him over the cliff to join his fellow.

It was early morning, still before dawn, when Karl rode up to the Abby at St. Petersbridge.  He pounded on the door until it was opened by a sleepy eyed monk.

"I must see Brother John, of Saint Mary's Abby at Waterton."

"Can't it wait?" grumbled the monk, as he fumbled with the lock.

✠

Elise woke long before dawn.  She needed to get back to her work.  She got out of the bed carefully, so not to wake Fredrik.  She pulled her dress back on over her head, and quietly gathered the things from the table.  Before she left, she paused again at the mirror.

But Fredrik was not sleeping.  He was watching her from the bed.  There was something about her spirit that drew him.  He was already making plans, as she closed the door behind her.  He was sure she was why he was there.

When Elise got to the kitchen, Anna could tell that something had happened.  She had been watching Elise for years, and looking out for her after her mother had died.  This was the first time she had seen her smile in a long time.  The change was apparent to others as well.

"You must have had quite a night," the cook said.

Elise didn't hear a word.

Snowmageddon ?

Snowmageddon?

That's what the BBC was calling it.

Looks like those Yankees were catching it.

It wasn't so bad here in the Woods.

But The Fuzz didn't feel much like riding anywhere.

In fact, neither The Fuzz or His Sweetie have gone anywhere-

other than a walk-

Since Thursday.

There was a bit of winter happening here in the Woods.

And hungry birdies in the morning.

Won't be sitting out here today.

Hope them fishies are okay down there!

The Fuzz did get out in the woods for a bit and here's a few pix.

The Fuzz does like to see at least one snow in a winter.  It reminds him of the Old Country*.  Around here we can enjoy the novelty of a good snow.  It gives us an excuse to stay home- the stores have been cleaned out anyway.

We were lucky here and the power never went out.

The Fuzz hopes those folks up north make out okay, it looks pretty rough up there.

*The shameful truth is that The Fuzz actually has a bit of a yankee background himself.

Schwan (5 A Plot Unmasked)

So here is a bit more of this story.  If you wish to start at the beginning, you can clic on "Schwan" in the sidebar at the right. 

5 A Plot Unmasked

Princess Lillian was shocked at what she was hearing.  It appeared that her father, the King had been murdered by agents of Morlana.  And these traitors were here, within the Royal Household.

To make matters worse, her brother, Now King Fredrik, was in Morlana, at the Duke's own castle.  She had to get word to him.  But who could she trust?  Then she remembered the chambermaid, and her brother, waiting outside.

As the Doctor left, she motioned for them to rejoin her.  She took a long look at the Ranger.  She liked what she saw.

"What is your name?"

"Karl, your Highness."

"I have a job for you, Karl."

✠

Karl rode through the castle gates and into the twisted streets of Waterton.  As he approached the city gate he hoped no one was watching.  He stopped at the gate and told the Watchmen that he was returning to his post.

"Unusual time to leave for that," one watchman remarked.

Karl thought quickly.

"I need to be there in the morning.  I should have left sooner."  He lowered his voice, and added, "But I was delayed by a Lady."  That was partly true.

That satisfied the watchmen.

"Get out of here," they told him, smirking.

Karl rode off into the dark.  When he was safely out of sight, he kicked his heels into his mount.  Then, took the road for Morlana as fast as he dared in the darkness.

✠

Elise sipped the wine, but when she saw that Fredrik was watching her, she quickly averted her eyes.  She stared at the wine in her hands.

"Drink," he said.

And as she raised the glass their eyes met again.  This time he looked away.  He slid the tray of food in front of her.

"You're hungry."  It was not a question.

Elise sat staring at the food.  She was hungry.

"Eat!" Fredrik commanded, and sat down opposite her.  then when she hesitated he added, "There's plenty for both of us."

Fredrik broke off some of the bread and handed it to her, taking the glass away.

"There's only one cup," he said pouring more wine, "So we'll have to share."

He took a drink, and broke off some bread for himself.  Elise watched him stealthily though her lowered eyes as he ate.

He was not the Duke's usual guest.  It was obvious that he had spent much time outdoors.  And although he was not overbearing, there was an air of authority about him; he was used to being obeyed.  In her fear, she had missed the Porter's words- "Your Majesty".  She only knew that she had never seen him here before.

Fredrik watched Elise eat.  He tried not to be obvious about it as he passed her pieces of bread and meat.  It was clear to him that she was not used to such treatment.  The Duke did not treat his servants very well.

The food and wine had it's effect, and Elise began to relax a little, and even managed a smile.  Now Fredrik asked her name.

"Elise, sir."

By now he was convinced that she had no idea who he was.  He wanted to keep it that way.

✠

The Duke was in his own chambers now, the Archbishop being occupied by Marguerite.  The presence of the Archbishop had complicated his plans.  The Duke had wanted to concentrate on the young King Fredrik.  If he could get him to wed one of his daughters, he would be able to influence matters in Midmont more easily.

It was true that he had his agent there.  Fredrik's Father had thought Slythain to be working for him.  It had been a fatal mistake.  But the Duke knew Fredrik's reputation and was sure he would be easier to control.

There was a knock, and the Porter entered.

"Fredrik is settled in?"

"Yes sir.  I gave him Elise."

"Elise...?" The Duke questioned.

"From the kitchen."

"You gave the King a scullery maid?"  

"He seemed happy enough with her."

"Yes.  I suppose any wench will do for Fredrik," the Duke said scornfully.

But he had no qualms about giving him either of his own daughters, if that would further his plans.

✠

But Fredrik did not consider Elise just "any wench".  Much had changed since his days at the university in Paris.  Before his return, he had already abandoned most of the behavior that had led to this questionable reputation.  And since then, Brother John had continued his education.

And now, becoming King had been the last blow.  From now on, he could no longer think only of himself.  It seemed that a King was the least free of anyone.  But if he was not free himself; he could be free for others - like this Elise.

He enjoyed watching her.  The longer he watched, the more he realized that under the hasty cleanup and tangled hair, Elsie was a beautiful woman.  He wanted her to see that for herself.

Fredrik had brought a number of items to be used as gifts.  Now he took out a carved ivory comb.  Elise's hair had been hastily bundled up with several cords, but the rat's nest of tangles remained.  He handed her the comb.

"Take this and comb out your hair."

Elise blushed in embarrassment.  This was one more reminder to her of what she was not.  And, too personal, coming from a stranger.  But she remembered the Porter's words- and the Duke's dungeon.  She pulled out the cords, and began to attack the tangled mess.  But it only got worse.

"Here, let me try," Fredrik said and stepped behind her, taking the comb.

He began to patiently work his way through knots.  He remembered doing this for his sister, as a child.  He stood behind her as he worked.  The wine had loosened her tongue, and she began to talk.  It had been a long time since she had had anyone to listen.

With Fredrik's encouragement, she talked about life in the Duke's household, of her work in the kitchen, and finally her own life.  Her Father had died before she'd known him.  She had lived with her mother in the attic of the inn where she worked, until she too, had died.

"I'm not sure how old I was.  I don't really remember much; it was so long ago."

å

She wasn't sure about her own age at the time.  But someone had brought her to the castle, and they had put her to work.

"I remember Mama would point out the windows, toward the mountains, and say that some day we would go home…"  and here she paused, "…but we never did."

He was finished now.  He told her to stand up, and turn around.  There was a small mirror on  the wall, and he turned her to face it.  At first Elise thought she was looking at someone else.  Her chestnut colored hair lay over her shoulders and fell nearly to her waist.  Fredrik looked on with approval.

It was late now.  He told her to get into the bed.

Again she reddened, but slowly removed her dress and got into the bed.  Elise was innocent, but she knew what would come next.  At least it was someone she liked, and not some fat pig, one of the Duke's friends.  But, Fredrik remained at the table for a long time.  And so, Elise fell asleep.

Fredrik was tired himself, and eventually did get into the bed.  But he remembered his night in the chapel; and the vows he had made.  So he rolled over, and tried to sleep.

Once he awoke during the night.  Elise had rolled against him in her sleep.  He could feel the curves of her body against him through her chemise.

He lay awake a long time.