1875-06-22: A Letter to Rikton
A Letter to Rikton
Summary: Lillian pens a letter as news arrives of a crusade in Aequor.
Date: 1875-06-22
Related: Aequorian War Council
NPCs: Sorcha, ladies maid
Players:
Alejander  Lillian  

"Viscountess," the young woman's voice that broke the silence a moment after the sound of the tent flap being drawn back was nervous, hesitant, "My apologies, I do not wish to interrupt, but…a letter has come and…a a delivery."

Lillian looked up as soon as she heard the tent open, turning to take in the young ladies maid that had come with them from Murias. "Sorcha, what is wrong?" Lillian voice was concerned, rather than upset at the interruption, and she rose from where she had been working at a bit of embroidery. She crossed the space easily enough, glancing first at the girl and then at the crate that was being carried in by a pair of the Arkanin retinue they had brought with them to the tournament. She nodded her acceptance and the crate was set onto a free space on the floor before turning back to the girl. "You look as though you were about to faint. What has happened?"

Sorcha fair cowered, eyes bright with tears, "I…I didn't mean to overhear, my…my lady, but you can't. Say you won't go." Lillian could not have looked more confused, "I am not going anywhere until you tell me what is going on." But the girl didn't, perhaps couldn't in her state and so she only handed over a letter before dashing out of the tent.

Lillian stood entirely still, confusion reigning in her expression for a few seconds after the girl had run off, leaving the tent flap fluttering behind her, before Lillian moved to refasten it and turned to the crate. It was to that that she stepped first, setting the letter aside on the writing table where she had been working. The men had been of Arkanin, but the crate itself bore the marks of Bordeaux. Lillian broke the seal, her expression growing dim, as she sorted through the items that were held within. A surcoat, new and clean and sharply pressed. Brilliantly crimson red with the white cross maltese of the Order Reliant. Beneath it, a set of armor she had not worn in years, though she had, as was expected, kept it in perfectly presentable order. Black leather, not so dissimilar from what her own men at arms wore, for black and crimson were the colours of her birth House, but beneath it a crimson ceremonial sash as well as a cloak, in the same red with the symbol of the faith emblazoned on it in silver and gold thread.

Lillian knelt in silence, looking for all the world as though she were praying to the crate, or perhaps to its contents, until her knees ached and she had to use the crate itself to stand. Only then did she take up the letter and, breaking the seal which bore the signet of the Holy City, read its contents. Her expression grew darker still, masking the conflict in her eyes, before she set it aside and, returning to her seat, took up ink and parchment to pen her own letter.


Your Eminence,

Lillian doubted the letter would ever be received by the High Priest himself, for he had his own cadre of cardinals and bishops who tended to the much of his administrative duties, but as it was his word writ down in the letter, it was to him she addressed it.

Word has come to me of the Crusade which the Church has called in Aequor. There is no greater good a knight of the Holy Orders can do in service to the Church than to stand as its sword and shield, to set themselves as champions of the Faith and protectors of the faithful. This I know and firmly believe. I believed it when I received the honour of my spurs and pledged myself to the Order Reliant, and I reaffirmed that belief when I reconsecrated myself to the Holy Church of Rikton in the aftermath of the excommunication of the Order. I write to you now, however, to ask, that should the members of the Orders who reside in Rikton be called to join our brothers and sisters in Aequor, to be released from this duty, and to be allowed to continue to serve the Faith and the faithful in the capacity to which you have set me. I implore you to allow me to remain in Bordeaux, to continue to lead my House and to stand as a ready warden in our lands against those who might wish to invade or seek war against us. I ask also to be allowed leave to continue to further the great task of diplomacy between Rikton and Galenthia which you set me when you allied Bordeaux with Arkanin of Murias.

I serve the Church and I serve the faithful, and I pray that I be allowed to continue to do so, but I remain a humble knight and I serve at your will, and will answer whatever call you in your grace and the One set for me.

Yours in the Faith and in the Light of the One,

Sir Lillian Bordeaux, Signora of Bordeaux, the Viscountess Arkanin


Lillian set aside the ink and quill, staring at the words she had set on the parchment, reading and rereading them before, finding the ink dry, she rolled and sealed it. Once it was done, she rose, returning to the crate and packing everything that she had taken back out in silence. She left the crate where it had been set, before she returned to the tent flap and called one of the Arkanin men to send the letter off to be delivered. She had done all that she could. She had known the reward but also the risk and responsibilities that came with her spurs. Now…all that she could do was wait for either the call or a reply to her request.

There was nothing more that she could do, save to return to the embroidery she had abandoned nearly an hour ago now. Cervantes' surcoat would not embroider itself.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License