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Post by Lady Isabella on Jun 22, 2016 17:48:19 GMT
“Mother,” the child asked, “Where are we going?”
“We’re going on a pilgrimage sweetheart” Isabella answered, “All three of us.” she said, referring to her child, herself and Edward. “The snows of winter are gone and you’ve never been to Caerleon!” Isabella mused, “You will absolutely love it, I promise.”
“Will we ride in a carriage?” The child pestered, “Will we? Will we?”
“No dear,” Isabella answered, “The horses are staying here. Your uncle will take care of them for us. We’re going to walk all the way across Albion, where brave knights and fearsome dragons have roamed before us!” She excitedly and playfully told her child, “It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll make it fun.”
The child believed her; Isabella had a way with words that she could weave a story that could make a nun blush, that could stump a sage or make the most stoic knight break out into laughter.
“Now help pack our things!” Isabella said, “And don’t forget that you have to carry everything that you bring!”
The child looked perplexed, “But mother, couldn’t we bring a donkey?”
“My dear, don’t worry about that. We won’t be walking alone.” Isabella answered, “Just pack your things and Edward and I will take care of the rest.”
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Post by Lady Isabella on Jun 23, 2016 19:11:45 GMT
On a cold spring morning, the three of them had left the outskirts of the city. They had indeed brought a donkey to help carry supplies, but the horses had stayed in the stables, and were cared for by Isabella's brother. “Edward, I wish you hadn’t brought that.” Isabella stated, referring to the blade at his side, “Couldn’t you at least have brought an axe?”
Edward looked at her and smiled, while they kept walking, “My lady, it is a long and dangerous road we travel. I’d rather deter brigands or worse from attacking at all than have to cleave them with an axe.”
Isabella huffed and seemed displeased, “Hmpf… just make sure the wrong people don’t see it.” and Edward acknowledged her requirement silently.
The child, meanwhile, was not as silent, “Mother, we’ve walked so far... “ The child begged, “Can’t we stop here?”
“It’s not noon yet my child, and we have a long way still to walk.” Turning to Edward, she asked, “Remember that alehouse in that farming village? It isn’t too far away from here, is it?”, Edward responded with a nod, as he kept walking, “Tell you what,” Isabella turned to the child, “Why don’t we stop there? We can eat and rest, and get our spirits up!”
The child smiled back. This was going to be the longest and hardest journey, so any respite from the road was welcome. As they kept walking, Isabella added, “I think some of our friends might be staying at that alehouse, isn’t that right Edward?”
Again, Edward nodded silently. He expected the alehouse would host some friends and acquaintances they knew. Perhaps even some they didn’t.
“Well then, it’s settled.” Isabella clapped her hands as they walked, “We’ll stop there and get some food to fill our aching stomachs and rest our weary legs.” Remembering an old story, she then continued, “Now child, let me tell you the tale of the white raven…”
And in Albion’s countryside, as they headed towards a locally famous alehouse, a mother told her child a long elaborate tale about how and why a white raven turned black.
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Post by Lady Isabella on Jun 24, 2016 20:28:18 GMT
“...and when the fire burned the raven, it’s feathers turned as black as soot, and they’ve been black ever since.” Isabella finished telling the story for the fifth time. The child loved it, so Isabella repeated it ever so often, with ever so slight changes to it each time it was told.
Rather than just the three of them, they had since joined a group of pilgrims headed to the Shrine of Columba. The group was quite varied and the norms of etiquette equally so. Acolytes hoping to one day become monks were taking their first devout pilgrimage. Poor peasants hoping to receive divine favor. Wealthy merchants hoping to give up some material goods in return for spiritual wealth. Errant knights seeking redemption. The list went on.
Isabella, like many others in the group, told tales and fables. Mostly to her child, but also to anyone else who was willing to listen.
“Mother,” the child asked, “Can you tell me the story about the fox and the cat again?”
“No, my dear child,” Isabella answered, “Let us instead speak of virtue and vice.”
The child sighed. Those stories were boring!
Isabella lowered her head to her child and whispered, “I have invited this man here to tell his tale, dear child, for he has much he can teach us. I have heard his story and I urge you to listen,” She then raised her head, and nodded towards the Pardoner, who told his tale of vice. How he cheated men and women out of their fortunes, to satisfy his own greed. The same men and women though, suffered his vices all the same.
When the tale was done, Isabella spoke, “So you see my child, those among us who seem virtuous, may indeed be full of vice. Though this pardoner is himself full of sin, as he readily admits, he gives a chance to people to prove their worth to God. When they fail, they do not blame themselves or their own vices, but instead, they blame the pardoner, the charlatan, and the conman. They themselves are never to blame for their own faults. The pardoner knows this, and seeks redemption he may never get, but his victims are blind and will never find redemption they refuse to seek.”
The child listened dutifully, and when mother was done, asked “Now can you tell me the story about the fox and the cat again? Please?”
Isabella let out a short laughter, “Of course, dear." then she smiled, "Now there once was a fox and a cat…”
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Post by Lady Isabella on Jun 26, 2016 20:53:39 GMT
Edward cleaned the blood off his blade with his cloak. The young brigand who had tried to run was lying on the ground in front of him, bleeding. Next to Edward, one of the errant knights was brandishing his own sword. It was the knight who had first spotted the brigand, and Edward who had cut off his retreat. They had been scouting ahead, in search of threats like these.
“You seem a little young for this line of work, kid.” Edward stated, as he sheathed his sword. The knight kept his blade ready. “Where are your friends then?” Edward gave him a little kick, and the youth winced, “You’re a fast runner, but you don’t think quite so fast, do you? Too many ways to run away, eh? Now, about those friends of yours?”
“Stop!” the youth cried out, “Please stop, just let me go and we won’t trouble you, I promise!”
“We’ll let you go alright, kid,” Edward responded, “But not until I know what I need to know.”
Eventually, Edward and the knight let the bleeding kid go. If he was strong, he’d be alright, otherwise he’d probably die from an infection weeks from now. Either way, his brigands weren’t going to be bothering them. Back in the main group, they saw the knight and Edward heading back, which probably meant something was up. Edward headed to Isabella, who asked him “Which way shall we go next then?” and Edward’s answer was “Just a little detour. There’s an ambush waiting for us if we follow this path.”
Isabella nodded, “Discretion is the better part of valour often times.” She turned to her child, “You see, not every fight needs to be fought. Sometimes, it’s better to give up some pride rather than suffer destruction.” Left unspoken was that pride was a vice. Such lessons would bore the child anyhow, so Isabella kept them to a minimum, to better impart her wisdom.
“Just like the rooster, mother?” The child asked, “The one the eagle carried away?”
“Yes, child. That one.” Isabella answered, somewhat wearily, but smiling all the same, “Now, how about a song instead?” and the child was happy, as they sang songs about knights, and princesses, and ancient forests.
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Post by Lady Isabella on Jun 29, 2016 20:50:56 GMT
“Mother, when will we get to Caerleon?” The child asked, “Patience, my child. It is a long road and asking such questions does not bring us closer. Only moving your feet may do that.” Isabella answered. “Remember the fat hen?”
“No mother. I don't think you've told me that story. Will you tell me the story of the fat hen mother? Please?” The child pleaded, and Isabella told a short tale, “You see, there once was a boy who lived at a farm. His mother had given him a daily task of fetching the eggs from the henhouse, which he did quite dutifully everyday. As time passed, he grew weary of the task. Every day he would go out and bring back a single egg, and while his mother was happy, he was not. He did not want to go to the henhouse every single day and he wanted to have more than one egg to eat!”
“So when he fed the hen, he then fed it twice what he used to, thinking it might lay more eggs, that he might bring more of them back to his mother. It was not to be. For the hen was now too busy eating and getting fat, and so never laid any egg ever again! His mother scolded him, for they would have to get a new hen if they were to get eggs again, and his impatience had cost them.” Isabella concluded, “You see, there are no true shortcuts in life. Patience is a virtue.”
At the mention of virtue, eyes were rolled by the child. “But Mother, how could they then ever get two eggs every day?” The child asked,
“Well, my child, as they now had to buy a new hen to get but one egg a day, then had the boy done his task with patience and diligence, they would now have two egg-laying hens all the same.” Isabella responded, “But this boy did not learn. He grew older, and one day he went to market. He was well-behaved and kind, and an old man took a liking to the boy. So for his kindness, he gifted the boy with a wonderful treasure. You see, this old man was no ordinary old man; he was a powerful and good-hearted wizard! He gave the boy a hen that lay not just eggs, but eggs filled with all manner of silver, gold and jewels. He was warned though that the hen would lay but an egg every fortnight.”
Isabella’s voice grew somber as she finished her cautionary tale, “However, the boy was as impatient as ever. He brought the hen home to his farm and before it had time to lay its first egg, he figured that if it could lay such wondrous treasures in its eggs, surely it was full of them already? He chopped the hen’s head off!” Isabella spoke loudly, “But it was all for nought. The hen was dead and there was no treasure to be found inside its butchered corpse. Once again, the boy’s impatience was his downfall.”
The child looked sad, and was quiet for a while. However, it was not long before the child furrowed its brow and asked, “But mother, when will we get to Caerleon?” and Isabella laughed, “We will get there in time, my child, just as you will learn patience in time.” and the mother smiled at her child as they continued their journey.
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Post by Lady Isabella on Sept 25, 2016 17:22:29 GMT
"Mother, why are we moving to Caerleon again?" The child asked, "Why couldn't we stay home?"
"Life, my child." Lady Isabella answered, "Life and friends. Have I told you the story about friends?" She asked, "I don't remember it mother" The child replied. Isabella pulled her child close and started telling the tale.
"There once was a young girl, who wanted to live in a place where the sea stretched for leagues and the mountains reached the sky. She was a shy, but kind girl, and she was very smart. She knew just where to go! So she packed her bags, and off she went."
"She passed by a well, and as she was pulling up a bucket of water, the rope asked her 'where are you going that you are so thirsty?' and she replied 'I'm going to go live in the kingdom by the mountains and the sea', and the rope asked 'can I come with you?' and the girl said 'sure, I don't see why not. You can never have too many friends', and she put the rope into her pack, and off she went."
"She came to a river, and she couldn't cross it, because the bridge was washed out. She was about to ford the river, but the river asked her 'where are you going that you are in such a hurry?' and she replied 'I'm going to live in the kingdom by the mountains and the sea', and the river asked 'can I come with you?' and the girl said 'sure, I don't see why not. You can never have too many friends', and she brought the river with her in her pack, and off she went."
The child seemed a bit puzzled that the girl could fit a river into her bags, but didn't ask any questions.
"She climbed a mountain, and a pile of rocks she passed by her asked her 'where are you going that you're sweating so much?' and the girl replied 'I'm going to live in the kingdom by the mountains and the sea', and the rocks asked 'can we come with you?' and the girl said 'sure, I don't see why not. You can never have too many friends', and she put the rocks into her pack."
"Finally she reached the kingdom by the mountains and the sea. The king was an evil king and didn't want a little girl living there, so he had her brought before him and he declared, 'No little girl is going to live by the mountains and the sea! Into the pit you go' and he had her thrown in the pit. She was there for a day, and then she remembered she had her friend the rope. She brought it out, and the rope slinked its way to the top and she climbed out of the pit. The king was puzzled, but declared again, 'No little girl is going to live by the mountains and the sea! Into the pot you go' and he had her thrown in a pot of water and lit the wood on fire. She was scared, but remembered she had her friend the river. She brought it out, and the river washed away the fire and turned over the pot. The king declared one last time 'No little girl is going to live by the mountains and the sea!' and he was going to strangle her, but then she remembered her friend the rocks, and she brought them out. The rocks fell and the king died, and the girl was free to live by the mountains and the sea."
"A few days later, some people came by to petition the king. When they found out what had happened, they were overjoyed that the evil king was dead, and they asked the little girl who she was, and she said 'I am Jessica' and they said 'Jessica, you can be the Queen of the mountains and the sea!'."
"And that's why it's always a good thing to have many friends, my child. Now rest, we have a little ways to go still."
First they'd go to the shrine in Pwlldefaid and then they'd go travel to Aberffraw and settle into their new residence.
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Post by Lady Isabella on Oct 17, 2016 21:01:56 GMT
On the journey back to Caerleon, Isabella told Daniel another story, “My child,” Isabella began, “Eventually we all succumb to our faults. Have I told you of the boy and the werewolf?” and Daniel shook his head. Isabella weaved the tale with her words.
“There once were two boys, who every full moon would turn into werewolves. Each lived a village apart from each other, and one was a terrible liar, the other an honest soul.”
“The shepherds were perplexed. Every month, one of their sheep would disappear with nary a trace, and with only a howl in the distance to be heard. No one knew how or why, they just knew it happened once a month, every full month.” Isabella told, as she then pointedly exclaimed “Not even the boys knew!”
“One bright morning, as they woke up, the boys discovered that they were the werewolves! Muddy tracks, and sheep’s wool everywhere. Do you know what they did then?” Isabella asked. Daniel shook his head vigorously, “What did they do, mother?”
“Well, my child, the liar quickly cleaned up his room and buried all the wool, so that none could ever find it. The honest soul confronted his fears. At the next village meeting, the village elder asked anyone who knew anything to step forth. And the honest boy did! He stepped right up and told the villagers he was sorry, but that he was the werewolf.” Isabella continued, “The villagers were so surprised at his honesty, that they searched far and wide for a druid or a priest who could help with this affliction, and before the month was up, the curse was lifted.”
“But the liar, he lied and denied. Even though he knew what he had done, he wouldn’t admit it. It was just a matter of time until the tracks led to him. And still he lied and denied, even as the truth came crashing down about him. They found his room full of sheep’s blood and guts, and the liar sleeping with his bloody hands within the corpse of the poor lamb.”
“The honest boy lived, and the liar was strung up and skinned as soon as he turned into a werewolf at the next full moon!” Isabella finished, “Do you know what this tells you?”
Daniel mulled about it for a moment, “If you tell the truth, people will believe and help you, but if you lie, people will find out and punish you?” Isabella smiled, as they continued their journey, “Quite right, my child.”
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