Previous Richard File

The boy came from Here

Dave:
More adds at end. I think we're pretty much done here. Is there a dinner scene ahead? I've got an after-dinner scene to through into the pot.

Neil:
I concurr. I added Yasgar's parting words to it.

Oh, most certainly there is a dinner scene. What a scene it should be! I need Stu to get the thing working correctly, so it'll wait till after the weekend.

Narrator:
Richard stalks out of the tent with a face like thunder and wanders blindly through the camp. Finally, the inevitable happens: he wanders around the wrong corner, into a conversation about this morning's events, right where the story of the chamberpot (now almost an entire latrine trench) is being expressed. With a frozen snarl on his face, Richard grabs the soldier by the shirt and lifts him several inches off the ground. As he talks, he hears someone call for Yasgar.

Sir Richard:
Talking behind someone's back is rude, and saying something like that to my face is stupid. Let's get the story straight: it was a chamberpot, it was an accident, and it was over a week ago. I hope you will take it upon yourself to correct these rumors, because I'd hate to think you'd been spreading falsehoods.

Narrator:
Richard drops the speechless man and walks on, not giving the matter another thought. Finally, he finds a stump to sit on and drops onto it. The previous occupant returns after a moment but wisely decides to leave the Baron alone.

It's been a hell of a day for Sir Richard. He's seen his prospective brother-in-law engage in a bit of knavery not all that to his liking. He's saved the life of an old friend and was paid back in harsh words. Words that can not be unsaid. Does he count his list of friends one the fewer? And he's getting really tired of remarks like Luther's about him. Is the whole damn duchy set against him?

It's a long way from his rose garden, his beloved wife, and their precious daughter. What is she seeing now? What are her dreams like? Will he be home in time? His thoughts wander to cousin Harold and his wife Judith. Sweet little Judith, but a McKitrick to the core. Perhaps it is well for the east that she loves Harold and is not next to rule McKitrick.

But can he trust his daughter's sanity to her? To Rabban's sister? Does he have a choice? And that story about Garth. Fact or fiction? Will his daughter grow up to love a monster that lives under the moat in Trent?

His mind half a continent away, a young boy comes up to him and politely addresses him.

Boy: [about ten or so]
Baron, I have something for you, and a message.

Richard: [smiles at the kid]
Yes?

Boy: [hands Richard a golden pin]

"Thank you for giving me my life, I will try to use it more wisely."

Narrator:
He looks over the pin, a stylized cat done in gold. Evaine's, without a doubt. The Knight Commander of the Helm, Baron of Arundel, stares at the pin almost hard enough to melt the soft gold. The boy stands there watching, waiting for some kind of response, wondering what's up with the baron. Richard finally looks up and notices that it is 4:00 or so in the afternoon; he's barely time to find his tent and prepare for dinner.

Sir Richard: [unspoken]
Hell. I'm a sorry excuse for peer. Sitting here contemplating my woes and feeling sorry for myself. What would Header say? "Kick yourself in the ass and get moving, boy, or I'll do it for you." She'll never admit to being wrong, but at least she's trying. What do I do now?

Sorry, lad, I'm having a bad day. Could you return a message to.. Blackbird for me?

Tell her this for me: "I would appreciate that, since friends are so hard to replace." Are you a friend of hers?

Boy: [Kicking at the ground]
Well... not exactly, Sir. I'd like to be an apprentice.

But my father wants me to be a knight.

Sir Richard: [Smiling]
You're off to a good start; you have a wonderful speaking voice, a good manner, and know how to make a presentation. Thank you. Do you have a hat?

Boy:
A hat, M'Lord? Nay.

Sir Richard: [Shaking his head]
Every good bard has a hat, lad, else what do you pass for your reward? Here, then, take this and my advice: buy a hat. You'll do well.

Narrator:
Richard hands the boy a half crown, a gold piece worth 10 silver, and trots off to find his tent. He no more than turns around to find Sgt. Yasgar standing patiently a discrete distance behind him, quietly waiting.

The boy goes Here

Yasgar:
I needs a few wurds with ya, Baron, afore you go. I's to ask you not to lay hands like that to the solgeers. If they be outta line, call me, I needs to knowit. 's my job ta make sure no man is in my squad but deserves it.

But no man in McMannon, noble or knave, raises hand 'gainst Her Grace's Royal Army but to his peril. 'e was on duty. Had ya struck him, you'd ha risked bein made outlaw. Yor situation be difficult, wot you a friend of Jhereg an a stranger to our ways, but it be not good for you to strike a Royal on duty, sir. Off duty he's a man jus like you, an his fights are his own. But the Royals serve Her Grace, her daughter Mary, Ruth an the rest - because they've lead us to throw out the mad dog nobles that'd been preyin on us all for too long.

Whilst I've yer ear, sir, in case no one 'as tol you straight, them hard words you said about the duchy sit hard on hearts around here. Makes you serious unpopular 'mong a peoples that aint much for nobility nohow.

Narrator:
Richard draws himself up to his full height, requiring Yasgar to step back a pace to look up into Richard's face. Richard fixes Yasgar with a steely blue gaze and speaks with his officer's voice, exerting the full force of his personality like a physical blow. Yasgar snaps to attention automatically, a conditioned response to authority that he realizes only after the fact.

Sir Richard:
Sergeant Yasgar, that might be the most amazing speech anyone has made to me so far this year. I'm trying to decide if you are a good man with no sense of tact trying to do his job or an arrogant idiot. I guess I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but let's get a few things straight, shall we? When we first met, you insulted me. I let it pass. Since I've been in this camp, I have been continually insulted by your men. How a Royal Soldier can find time to gossip while on duty is something I cannot understand. I am done overlooking these insults. I suggest you see to the discipline of your troops lest you wind up explaining this entire incident to Her Grace. Your mistress will not thank you for insulting the families of Dukes, and I doubt that Lord Jhereg will support you, either. Next time, at your request, I shall wait until the soldier is off-duty, and the discussion will be more forceful. I trust I make myself clear. I am not accustomed to enforcing discipline among elite troops in this fashion, Sergeant, but if you can't, I will.

About these harsh words, Sergeant -- well, I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about. But let's set the record straight on that, too. Chesterton supports Her Grace. Had it been up to me, the Federal Army would have marched in here years ago and put a stop to the whole mess. Your Duchy is still in a state, Sergeant, but so would anyplace be after a decade of civil war. The only comment I recall was stating that this was not a safe place for a party of women to travel unescorted. You yourself suggested that this *camp* might not be a safe place for unescorted women. Sir Hesketh and I were attacked by bandits, so I have said no more than the truth. I have not said anything with intent to offend Her Grace or the people of this Duchy. If you or any of your men find some statement of mine offensive, you'd best tell me. When I insult someone, I am not subtle.

I trust this clears the air between us, Sergeant. I would like to consider the whole matter closed. I will not keep you from your duties.

Narrator:
Richard spins smartly on his heel, making a precise 180 turn, stamps his foot, and strides off ramrod straight, a picture-perfect officer's posture. The image is not lost on Yasgar. It's a number of seconds before Yasgar gets it together enough to call after Richard's retreating back.

Sgt. Yasgar: [loud, really loud]
BEGGIN THE BARON'S PARDON, I TAKE IT NOW IS NOT A GOOD TIME?

Narrator:
Richard stops and turns.

Sir Richard: [Speaking calmly]
Sergeant, it's now a bit after 4:00. At 5:30, I am supposed to be at a dinner with Lord Jhereg and Friedrich Tudor. Now, you know better than I what it is you have to say, and should have a pretty good idea how I'll respond to it. So I ask you, Sergeant; if we can wrap this up within a few minutes, fine. If not, I would be happy to meet with you after dinner at your convenience.

Sgt.Yasgar: [mind working rapidly - it shows outwardly]

Lessen five minutes Baron, 's'all I need.

I got no tact, 's'true. But the women be safe here. Their dignity, might suffer, wot them all good looking an there bein a bunch o soljeers here. They might hear a whistle or an indelicate word or three. But any woman screams in this camp, Royals 'll pave the grass with blood gettin there, to the last. I'll have the guts of any soljeer o mine don't answer the call. I cain't speak for Jhereg's lot.

Jhereg's why there's bandits 'bout, Baron. All last year we patrol and root em out, wherever the folks tells us they been, we go. But we been here o'er a month, an not on patrol, cause Lord Jhereg needs us to keep the riff raff in order, an because o what he's settin out to do case he needs troops. But afore that, wasn't good odds being a bandit in McMannon, we hang em. We don't miss many, either.

The insults an the hard words is all wrapped up together. Alls the news we gets come from the Anchors and other travelers. We all heard it when the news came through, hell, must be month or two ago. Theys said you called us...said we was...

...I haint got the 'xact words, but it went somethin like we was all a bunch o' liars an the whole duchy been dipped in shit. No that haint it. But somethin like it. Ask Ruth, Sir, I ain't got the words. But it dint set well, high born or low, with anybody. Words bout Federal troops don't make it easier, Sir. Us common soldiers pitched the army of the Regents inta the sea. Last year we was better fed, had more trade goods than since a young man can remeber.

Am I makin any sense to ya, Sir?

Narrator:
Something clicks back in Richard's mind. Ruth - she lead the northern army to victory repeatedly against the Regents. Threw one enemy army into the sea, to hear it. A noble, her father died at the very start of the war. Red hair, like a large number of McMannon people, not a small person...she must have been the person who walked into his tent after he and Evaine had words. It takes a second - Lady Katherine Stanton - Ruth is what the troops call her. One of the most popular people in the duchy, short of the Duchess and the Heir.

Sir Richard: [Much more human, but still very serious]
Sergeant... yes, you are. I'm not quite sure what I said that came back to you that way. When the late Duke was alive... well, Duke Ian and Chesterton didn't get along at all. I was not sorry he died. But the Regents, Sergeant, they were worse. Your people deserved better. I said a lot of things about the Regents, none of which I regret. Things have changed here a great deal since then, and I don't know nearly as much as I probably should about the restoration or your Duchess. The last time I had a report from McMannon, it was a very dangerous place. I don't think it is the safest place yet, Sergeant, when bandits attack two Knights, but that isn't intended as an insult.

So... what you are telling me is that you and all of the other soldiers and officials in McMannon are upset with me about some statement I supposedly made insulting the entire Duchy, is that right?

Sgt. Yasgar: [nods]
Yessir, Baron, that's the way o' things.

Narrator:
Richard raises his voice slightly and puts his entire diaphragm behind it. The volume is only a little greater, but it carries clearly for some distance.

Sir Richard:
Sergeant Yasgar, I do not remember what I said, nor under what circumstances, but it was never my intention to insult your Duchess or your people. I have nothing but respect for the way in which your people removed the blight which was the Regency Council. I am sincerely sorry if I said anything that was taken as a blanket insult, and I hope that you will accept my apologies.

That makes a lot of things clearer, Sergeant. Thank you for taking the time to explain it to me. I don't normally lose my temper this way. It's been a very bad day.

Good afternoon, Sergeant Yasgar.

Sgt Yasgar:
I'll see to it that the men get the word, Baron. You be better off talking to the nobles yerself. Ruth was at yore tent last I saw. Ask after her or Wolf, big tall man,

-any the troops be sure to tell you if they seen 'em lately. 'Joy yerself.

Narrator:
The name clicks finally, while Richard is walking back to his tent.

Neil:
Under separate cover.

Next Richard file.