Schwan (10 A Promise)

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" A Promise"

10 A Promise

The Duke had been watching Fredrik throughout the dinner.  If Juliet played her part well, his plans just might succeed.  If he could get his daughter into the House of Midmont, he could deal with Fredrik any time.  He had his own man there already.  The old King had been a fool, and never suspected until it was too late.

Joining the Kingdom of Midmont to his own lands would make him a force to reckon with.  Even the Archbishop would have to respect him then.

He was tired of kowtowing to that pig.   The Archbishop had the Church behind him, and the Emperor.  But Midmont was an Elector as well.  Even the Emperor would have to acknowledge him then.  He could tell that Bastard Priest to go to hell, where he belonged.

The Duke was enjoying these thoughts when he was interrupted by a knock on his door.  It was Damson, his right hand man, and head of his spies.

"My Lord, we have a problem."

"What is it now, Damson?" asked the Duke in irritation.

"I had a man watching the road from Midmont..."

"So?"

"We don't know what happened to him.  His horse came in without him in the morning.  He was a bad one for drink, but never while on duty."

"He's probably drunk, in bed with some wench.  Have him flogged when he shows up."

"But there's more."

"What?"

"Slythain's man, Potten, was found dead, in the river.  It appears he was washed down from Midmont.  From the looks of him, he went over the falls."

"Was he carrying any message?" asked the Duke, suddenly interested.

"We found none, My Lord."

"It could be an accident."

"Yes, My Lord..."

"But you don't think so?"

"No, My Lord."

"Go on."

"There was a monk, traveling with Fredrik and his men.  He is staying at the monastery now.  He received a visiter early that same morning.  We believe there was a message from Waterton."

"Then, this man would also have been on the road that night."

"Yes, My Lord."

The Duke thought about it.

"We'll need to talk to this man."

"I can't just take him from the monastery, My Lord."

"I'll have to talk to the Archbishop," said the Duke in resignation.  He hated to have to ask for another favor.  The Archbishop always wanted something in return.

"You can go now.  Keep me informed if anything else turns up."

"Yes, My Lord."

✠

Slythain had lost all track of time in the dark.  He relived his arrest over and over in his mind.  First had come some concern, then panic as he was dragged before the Princess.  Then, after a beating, he was thrown into this hole.

Next came an eternity of silence and darkness so thick he could feel it.    He was chained to a damp wall by an iron collar around his neck, barely long enough to let him lay down on the moldy straw.

He did have plenty of time to think.  Duke Richard had promised him a position of authority in the new puppet state of Midmont.  But those promises were worthless now.  Maybe he could bargain his way out of this.  But, if they had realized that he was the one that had poisoned the King; he could expect no mercy.

When he heard a key turn in the lock, he was expecting the worst.

The jailer came in, keys jingling, with two of his men.  They locked manacles around Slythain's ankles, and led him out, and up a twisting stairway.  He stumbled along in the torchlight, dragging the chains, rattling behind him.  No one spoke.

They stopped at a heavy oaken door.  Light shown though a small grating.  Slythain's heart pounded as he recognized the torture chamber.  The old King had had little use for it.  It seemed his daughter had other ideas.

In truth, Princes Lillian was a gentle soul.  She had hoped that the traitor would break without this.  But she was prepared to follow though, if it came to that.  She steeled her nerves, and waited.

She was there, watching impassively as they strapped him down with leather straps.  He broke into a cold sweat as the men ripped his tunic open.  One was heating irons in a fire.  The fire cast weird shadows on the cold stone walls.

Princess Lillian spoke only one word.

"Names."

"Please, Your Highness," he begged;  It had no effect on her.

By now the irons were red hot.  One of the men drew one out, holding it up where Slythain could see.  Slowly he approached.  Slythain could feel the heat on his exposed flesh.  He involuntarily strained at his restraints.

His mind was racing.  What was the use in trying to hold out?  He was doomed either way.  At best, he could only hope for a quick and relatively painless death.  And this wasn't it.

At the first touch of the iron, he shrieked.

"Stop it!  Stop it!  I'll tell you everything!"

Potten had been right.

✠

At Duke Richard's castle, in Fredrik's room, Elise listened with pleasure as he described the land of Midmont, and the town of Waterton on the lake.  It brought back memories of her mother, and the stories she used to hear as a child.  From time to time, she would interrupt him.

"I remember my mother telling me about that.  She always said we would go back, but then, she died, and I came here."

Then, Elise grew quiet, and withdrawn.  Hearing him, brought back more memories.  Ones that had lain dormant for years.  Fredrik's voice trailed off as he watched her.  After a time she spoke again.

"No... That's not what happened."  Then she slowly continued, her voice filled with sadness.  "No... We came here...  Then, she died."

Fredrik could see tears running down her cheeks.  He wanted to dry her tears.

"Elise... Elise... Come back to Midmont with me."

"I can't," she sobbed.

"Marry me... and come home with me, Elise."

"What?"

"I want you to be my wife... "

Now she broke down completely.  Fredrik pulled her to him and wrapped her in his arms.

"Please, Elise."

"But I'm only..."

"My Elise..."

"And you are..."

"Just a man that loves you..."

Finally she said the words he longed to  hear.

"Yes... I'll Marry you.  I'll be your wife."

It was a strange thing.  They had only just met, yet it seemed to be destined.  She could tell, that he felt it too.  Elise was still crying as he held her, but this time it was for joy.  There was hope for the future.

After a time, they walked to the window.  Fredrik took out a cross on a silver chain and slipped it around her neck.  The cross itself was carved of Ivory, with silver trim, embedded with gemstones.  It was a beautiful piece of work.

"This is a token of my love for you, and my promise to take you with me."

He took it and put it beneath her chemise between her breasts.

"Keep it hidden for now, until the time is right.  Trust me."

They spent the night laying beside each other.  Elise talking about her life, and Fredrik speaking of their future.  He was careful not to mention the throne.

In the morning he reminded her, not to speak of this to anyone.

"Except, you can tell Anna."

Elise wondered how he knew Anna, but she did not question him.    

To be continued...

So... What happened to Spring?

So what did happen to spring?

Well, apparently it's not here yet.

The Fuzz admits to being a little disappointed.

But then, it is still the middle of February.

Wow

The Fuzz saw this on BBC.

Einstein's gravitational waves 'seen' from black holes

 

"... the detection [of gravitational waves] was one of the most important developments in science since the discovery of the Higgs particle, and on a par with the determination of the structure of DNA." 

" ...ripples in the fabric of space and time..."

Pretty cool.

The Fuzz thinks we don't know the half of it.

Schwan (9 Two Dinner Parties)

Time for a little bit more of our story, a tail of imaginary people and an imaginary kingdom.

This tale can be read from the beginning at "Schwan" in the sidebar at the right.

9 Two Dinner Parties

That evening the Duke provided a banquet for his guests.  There were musicians, and the wine flowed freely.  Juliet and Marianne were both very attentive to Fredrik, insisting that his cup remain filled.  They sat at either side of him, vying for his attention.

All the time the Duke watched closely, looking for some sign that his plans were working.  But Fredrik did not seem to be living up to his reputation.  The Duke was beginning to think that he might have to take the Archbishop's advice.

He looked at the Archbishop in disgust.  He was already drunk, and seemed unable to keep his eyes off of the Duke's daughters.  Fredrik, on the other hand, was making an effort to remain sober, despite being constantly pawed by both Juliet and Marianne.  In tending Fredrik's cup, they had not been neglecting their own.

Eventually the Archbishop's attentions returned to Marguerite at his side.  Marianne, looking a bit green, left the table and disappeared for a time.  Fredrik was left with Juliet.

"Tell me about Midmont," she said.

"Midmont?" he asked.  His home was very different than this place.

So he began to tell her about the lake, surrounded by mountain peaks.  And he described the town of Waterton, with it's castle rising from rocky shore of the the lake.  He got a faraway look as he spoke of the mountain valleys with their tiny villages hanging on the mountainsides.

"I think I should like such a place," She told him.  "I am tired of this place."

"I think you would be bored there," Fredrik told her.

"You hurt my feelings," she returned with a pout.

Fredrik looked at her, wondering if he had gone too far with his words.  Perhaps he had been unfair.

"You make it sound so beautiful, I should like to see it.  I could come and visit you there, if you would like."

Juliet had placed her hand on his arm as she spoke.  Fredrik tried to picture her at the castle on the lake.  But his mind was filled with Elise instead.  He realized that Juliet was watching him, waiting for a reply.

"We'll see what happens," he told her.

Juliet smiled.  She thought he was thinking of her.

The Duke had been watching.  Juliet's smile was encouraging.  Maybe things were finally beginning to go his way.

✠

The Porter had walked Elise to Fredrik's room again, and told her to wait there.  

"He asked for you again.  I don't know why," he said dismissively.

Anna had been gathering up the things from the dinner party and bringing them down to the kitchen.  When she got there, with the last of them, the Porter called her over to join him where he sat at the table.  He had already finished one tankard of ale, and was starting on his second.

"Annie, Annie, come sit with old Joe for a bit," he told her.

Anna looked over to the cook apprehensively.  He was already shorthanded with Elise gone.  He scowled at her.

"Don't worry about him," the Porter said loud enough for the cook to overhear, "If he says anything, I'll have him whipped." 

Joseph, the Porter was in charge of all domestic duties in the Duke's castle.  Under the Duke, his word was law.  As Anna sat opposite him, he called out to the cook.

"You!  Bring more ale, and one for the lady!"

The cook brought it, angrily.  He stood there glaring at the Porter, who was ignoring him.  Finally the Porter looked up.

"Don't you have something to do?  I'll call you when I want you."

The cook walked off in a rage.  Anna could hear him cursing the sculleries.  The Porter looked at her.

"Drink!" he commanded.

Anna obeyed.  Joseph drained one cup and picked up the other.  He sat, looking into the tankard for a minute or so.  Then looked up at her.

"You know, you're still a good looking woman, Annie.  I remember when the Duke first brought you here.  I had hoped we could..."  Then he paused again.  "But the Duke is the jealous sort, you know."

Anna drank her beer in silence as the Porter rambled on.

"People like him, they do whatever they want.  We just do what they tell us...  Don't we, Annie.

"Like this King here," he snorted.  "He insists that I take that little bitch, Elise, to his room every night.  Sure, she's pretty enough, once you get her cleaned up.  But he could have Lady Juliet, a noble beauty, or her sister.   The Duke would love to arrange it.  But he prefers a tumble with some stinking little kitchen wench.  But they say he is like that, don't they."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?  When he was in Paris, all he did was drink, and chase whores."

This did not sound like the man she'd just met.

Anna spent the next hour listening to the Porter's monologue.  He became less and less coherent, until he got shakily to his feet.  She had to help him to his own room.  Once there, he made a clumsy attempt to kiss her.  Anna left him asleep on his bed.  She did not return to the kitchen.  Let the cook think what he wanted.

✠

When Fredrik returned  to his room, Elise was waiting, standing by the window.

"The Porter said you wanted to see me, sir."

"Elise, I've been waiting all day to see you again."

It was what she had wanted to hear.  But doubts had begun to disturb her.  What did he really want?

But she forgot all that now, as they sat together over a late meal.  Fredrik did not eat much himself, having been with the Duke earlier.  But he made Elise comfortable as she ate, and drank.

After a time, Elise got up her nerve to ask the question that had filled her mind all day.  He had never even told her his name.

"Who are you, really?"

Fredrik just looked at her and sighed.

"I know you came with that King from Midmont.  But who are you?"

Fredrik had been dreading this, knowing it would come up at some point.

"I'm just one of the Rangers," he told her.  It was a half truth.

She touched his sword, laying on the table beside them;   It was obviously a superior weapon.

"You are not just any Ranger," Elise said watching him closely.  "Are you a captain... are you a knight?"

"Something like that," he answered.

She could see he didn't want to say any more about it.  But that only made her more curious.  Now emboldened, she told him;

"Tell me about yourself,".  "What is your name?  You know mine."

"Just call me Freddy."

"Freddy?"

"Yes, that's what my sister calls me."

"What's her name, Freddy?"

"Lily," he answered, hoping she would not make the connection.

She did not.  Elise was not familiar with the Royal House of Midmont.  Fredrik was relieved as she continued.

"My mother was from Midmont.  I think I was born there."  Her eyes seemed to be looking at something far away now as she said, "I'd like to see it some day."

"Perhaps you will."

"No... I have to stay here.  But tell me, what is it like?"

"It is beautiful, you will love it."

Elise thought that an odd choice of words.  But she listened with pleasure as Fredrik described his homeland, and unbeknownst to her, his Kingdom.  

  

Schwan (8 New Plans)

And we have another piece of this little story for those who wish.
And of course, this tale can be read from the beginning at "Schwan" in the sidebar at the right.

8 New Plans

The Duke and Archbishop were alone in the Duke's private rooms.

"And how are things going for you?" the Archbishop asked, helping himself to more wine.

The Duke looked at him without expression.  He loathed the Corpulent Cleric who had imposed on him time and time again.  But he owed him.  The Archbishop was the one who had arranged for the Duke's wife to enter the convent when she had become inconvenient.

"Well enough, I suppose."

"I understand that young Rathard was not a success at Waterton."

When Duke Richard didn't answer, he went on.

"But you have Fredrik here now."

The Archbishop took on a conciliatory tone.

"It would be difficult to resist the charms of such beauties as Juliet and Marianne.  The only problem I can forsee is choosing between them."

"In your case that might be true, but this is Fredrik."

"I know what you're trying to do.  But if things don't work out, you could try another route."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

The Archbishop stepped closer and lowered his voice.

"If by some chance this young King Fredrik is able to resist the many charms of Lady Juliet or Marianne, perhaps he could be persuaded by other means."

Despite his dislike of the Archbishop, Duke Richard was listening.

"It is surprising to me that this young King was naive enough to put himself within your power."

"You mean hold him hostage?"

"Let's just say that you could provide time for him to, perhaps... grow fonder of the girls; and change his mind."

The Duke was quiet.  In truth, this had occurred to him.  But he had dismissed the idea.  Now the Archbishop had revived it.

"The wedding would take place here, of course," the Archbishop added.  "Sometimes it's best to act boldly."

It was clear to the Duke how this man had reached his position.

✠

When Rolf left Fredrik's room, Anna was watching unseen from a shadowed corner.  She waited a bit, and then went to the door, knocking softly.  After speaking with Rolf, she had decided to risk approaching Fredrik personally.

The Door was opened by the young King himself.  But he was not alone.  She could see a monk standing near the window.  She had not counted on this.  She curtsied deeply.

"Please, Your Majesty, may I speak with you."

Fredrik stepped back, letting her enter.  He closed the door behind her.  Anna was a bit intimidated being face to face with the King.  He was taller then she expected, and wore a serious expression.  She glanced over at Friar John and waited for the king to speak first.

As Fredrik looked at her he realized that she was the same woman that he had seen staring at him, in the kitchen earlier.  His expression softened.

"What do you wish to tell me?" he asked.

Anna looked questioningly at the monk.

"It's alright.  Anything you wish to say to me, can be said before Friar John."

"Please sir," she began, "Elise is like a daughter to me.  Please do not toy with her."

Anna began to cry.  Fredrik could see Friar John watching from his place by the window.

"Don't... " Fredrik began.

But there was no stopping her now.

He began again,

"She told me she came here when her mother died, and..." But she interrupted him.

"She was young.  She doesn't remember it all."

"Tell me, please.  I don't wish to hurt her."

"When her father died... " Anna began, “…(he had come here to take service with the Duke's Men at Arms) …her mother found work at an inn in the town."

Now Anna met his eyes and continued.  The monk stepped closer to listen.

"She and Elise lived there, at the inn."

"Elise told me that.  And then, her mother died."

"No, that's not how it happened.  One day, Duke Richard saw her mother at the inn.  She was a very beautiful woman.  He wanted to bring her here- for himself.  She wanted no part of it.  But the Duke is not to be refused, as I well know."

Here she looked down, and was quiet until Fredrik spoke.

"And?"

"Well… he compelled her to come.  But it took the light and life out of her.  She died soon after."

Then after another long pause, she continued the story.

"Elise was left alone.  I cared for her."

"So, what do you want with me?" Fredrik asked.

Anna fell on her knees and took hold of his tunic.

"Please let her be!  Don't do this to her.  She thinks she loves you.  She doesn't even know who you are."

Anna turned toward Friar John.

"Tell him.  It's not right to use her like that."

"What is your name?" Fredrik asked pulling her to her feet.

"Anna, Your Majesty," she said still looking down.

Fredrik turned her face up toward his own.

"Anna, I have every intention of making Elise my queen."

"But..."

"In fact, I was just discussing this with Friar John.  He, of course, thinks I'm mad,” he said with a smile.

"But, you can't..."

"Are you telling me what I can't do?" Fredrik asked sternly.

"No... No, Your Majesty," Anna said, looking away again.

"But Anna," he said raising her face to his once more, "I don't want her to know what I am, not yet.  I want her to love me, not a King."

"But you are a King," Friar John reminded him.

Fredrik and Anna had both forgotten he was there for the moment.

"Yes," said Fredrik slowly.  "And she must know that too.  But not yet."

Coptic Stitch Part 2

Last time we left off with the signatures and covers sewn together-

Bound as it were.

And so the job was nearly finished.

But not quite!

As can be seen, The Fuzz had not trimmed the covers to size.  This was because, as with many of his projects, he had no idea exactly how he was going to finish it up!

The leather covers were too limp to expect them to stay in place and protect the pages.  So he decided to make a flap that could be tied when the book was put up.

The leather was cut into the appropriate size and shape and the point for the tie was located.

Then the holes were punched.

The Fuzz was not satisfied with the way the cover was loose at the corners.

So he decided to add some more threads there.

This seemed to solve the problem.

Here's the finished project.

The next question will be what to put in it!

Coptic Stitch Binding

It's been over 2 years now since The Fuzz and His Sweetie participated in this Book Boiling Project back at the old Art Blooms Studio in town.  Sadly that place has been closed for some time now.

But...

The other day His Sweetie was looking into putting together some sketchbooks and ran across this tutorial for Coptic Stitch Binding.

It caught The Fuzz's interest.

Remembering his boiled pages, he figured this was the perfect chance to actually do something with them.

And so began this Coptic Book Project.

After the pages were boiled this is what it looked like.

So the first thing was to cut them apart and sort them into "Signatures" ("A" below)  to be bound together.

The Fuzz had a bunch of scrap leather samples (B) he had picked up back in his days on the trash truck.  So he decided to use a couple of them for the covers.

After the holes were punched through the signatures he used one as a template to punch through the leather with the awl (C).

Now it was time for the actual "Coptic Stitch".

The needle was threaded (D) with some heavy thread- almost a light cord.

This was first passed through the first signature from the inside.

On the outside it passed around the cover and up through the pre-punched hole.

Next, came a turn around itself...

And then back into the signature, and out the next hole, where the process was repeated.

Each time the thread was looped around the cord under the signature directly below the one being sewn.

This procedure continued with the rest of the signatures and 2nd cover.

Here's a closer look.

Well that's all for now.

Next time we'll finish up with the covers.

  

A Good Sign

Well, a few days ago we had the Crocus.

And now...

This!

The Fuzz just has a good feeling about this.
A great way to start off this new month.