Royal Crown Commision: A Night Out

[Jim Roberts]

[Jan 30 PM – Castle Sibley]

> “True,” Miracle agreed. “But this *is* important. Morale of the
> hardworking troops is critical; you *know* this. So, if you do not
> seek out the good Sister, I *will*. And I think you might make less of
> an impression than I would.”
>
> Tregarth blinked. “I would, at that,” he agreed. To both horses, he
> added, “Please give Tramma my apologies if she arrives while I am
> away.”
>
> Both horses nodded. “And we’ll reassure her that you’ll be *right*
> back,” Miracle confirmed. “This works out well, I won’t have to bother
> Madame Aronson the chamberlain for ‘indoor’ shoes after all.”

Some minutes later, Tregarth was back, a delicate winter blossom in his
hand. As he had predicted, in his absence the bard Tramma had appeared.
As he approached, he could hear her in earnest conversation with both
steeds. Though of course he could only hear Miracle’s magically
transformed “voice”, but Erik’s steed was content to translate his
colleague’s replies.

“Ah, there you are, Tregarth,” Miracle said genially as the huge knight
approached.

“Good evening, Tramma,” Tregath greeted the bard. Even though they had
spent the entire day together either in a conference room or at the same
banquet table, this was their first moment together alone. If “alone”
could include a pair of Divine Steeds. But the empathic projections from
Maximus were encouraging, rather than inhibiting, and Miracle was
nodding approvingly.

With a courtly bow, he presented the winter flower to the bard, while
stating gently, “You are looking *particularly* fine tonight.”

“This old thing?” Tramma chuckled dismissively. “It’s just something I
threw on this morning.” Horses cannot actually smile, but it was evident
to the knight that both steeds were exchanging knowing glances.

“I’m SO glad you got my note,” Tramma continued. “I felt like I was back
in school, terrified that Sister Erin would call me to the front of the
class for passing notes. She would, too, just so she could laugh at my
expression.”

“I am heartily glad, too,” Tregarth replied fondly.

Tramma cocked an eye towards the pair of Divine Steeds, and asked
quietly, “Is it considered outré to proposition a holy knight in a holy
castle in front of a pair of holy horses?”

Maximus snorted in amusement, while Miracle’s answer was a bit more
descriptive. “Most certainly not when a hero like yourself propositions
a *norse* knight. Some of the Tellics might not agree, but I do not see
any Tellics likely to object here at present.”

“Oh, good!” Tramma exclaimed, and practically leapt into Tregarth’s
arms. In between kisses, she exclaimed, “That was a *really* nice
thought of yours this morning to keep the druids of the various
persuasions in the loop about how to manage population.”

“It was both my pleasure,” Tregarth replied as best as he could in
between the kisses. “And manifestly only what was right. It was
reassuring to hear that the Kamyran Crown is fully in accord with
staying on the right side of the various druidic orders.”

“And as a former Kaltan myself,” Tramma purred, “I just *know* how
Pilinde and Lomi would want me to convey their thanks.”

The earlier rather steamy empathic image Maximus had sent Tregarth was
once again being broadcast into the knight’s mind, this time without the
interrogative. Miracle, too, was nodding in approval. “As much as I
applaud your proposed course of action, Tramma Silverhair,” the steed
observed, “or *would* if I had hands, this IS the point where I would
suggest that you both get a room. As much as a roll in the hay might be
therapeutic, it WOULD frighten or at least shock some of the humans,
though likely not the horses.”

“I *do* have a block of rooms at the Triton Windwalker up in town,”
Tregarth suggested.

“And I just so happen to have my overnight bag here,” Tramma enthused.
“I had the strangest intuition I might not be staying in the guest rooms
at Castle Sibley after all.”

Maximus stepped forward, projecting the empathic desire to be leaving.
For Tramma’s benefit, Miracle translated the sentiment. “Max is
volunteering to bear you both. If, that is, Tregarth is willing to leave
the heavier barding and a few other items behind that we both doubt you
will need between here and Fort Lucas. Just be certain to be back here
in time tomorrow.”

“Can do,” Tregarth promised.

* - * - *

Some time later, Maximus was gently walking the few miles that separated
Castle Sibley and Fort Lucas. While Tregarth did have a set of reins in
hand, they really were not needed for anything outside of desperate
combat where there simply was not time for empathic communications, and
the more advanced technique of weight shifting might lack a specific
degree of precision. Here, on a well known road absent any howling
savages or other threats, Maximus was left to his own to choose the way.

This was particularly helpful at present, as a lot of his Rider’s
attention was occupied by their passenger. Seated before Tregarth was
the bard Tramma, his arms gently around the silver haired performer as
he at least nominally pretended to provide direction with the reins.

The sun had long since dipped below the nearby mountains, and the
winter’s night was crisp and bitingly cold. However, Tregarth had
wrapped both himself and his ladyfriend up in his large cloak. Between
their own body heat and that donated by Maximus, Tramma found that she
was actually quite *comfortable* in this arrangement. Particularly as it
let her snuggle back against the huge knight who had thoughtfully left
his plate armour back at Sibley. Both Tramma and Maximus were grateful
for the lack of armour.

Luxuriating in the feel of being between the huge knight’s arms, Tramma
snuggled back a bit more and mused, “Thank you for picking up on my
signal to give us ladies some time with your Boss.”

Tregarth chuckled softly. “I’ll leave it to him to say whether or not
this was his most daunting encounter ever.” Politely, he added, “Without
asking you to reveal more than you should, I take it that he benefited
from the experience?”

Now it was the silver haired bard’s turn to chuckle, though it had a
slightly rueful edge. “Eh, it went as well as can be expected.” She
frowned and twisted so she could glance back and up at her companion. “I
think it IS fair to warn you that your Boss has a chip on his shoulder,
though.”

Tregarth nodded. Diplomacy would suggest that he neither confirm nor
deny the observation. But given how close the two riders were in more
ways than just their immediate circumstances, there really would have
been no point. Particularly with something that was manifestly true.
Coming to his Boss’ defence, he observed, “Understandable, perhaps.
Particularly if he feels that he is part of a joke he does not understand.”

“Ah, about that,” Tramma agreed with a sigh. “That lovely rainbow flag.
Where did it come from?”

Tregarth did not even blink at what others might have believed to have
been a non-sequitur. Her question was only reinforcing some suspicions
of his own that had been growing throughout the day. “Oh, one of our
people in Fort Resolute had suggested it,” he answered. “You know the
difficulties we have had in the past with people confusing Heimdall’s
Horn for the Hunting Horn of Pilinde’s chosen Tela.”

“I do,” Tramma agreed with another grim chuckle. More than one person
had been confused by the sight of a Church Knight… of Kaltas.

“Well,” Tregarth continued, “I truly and especially value that lovely
standard of Heimdall’s Horn that you made for me. So much so that I have
decided to use it as my own *personal* standard, and was quite happy to
entertain suggestions others might have for a standard for Fort Resolute
as a whole.”

“And so the Rainbow Flag, showing Bifrӧst,” Tramma observed. “Which
reference, of course, only a few bards and scholars outside Lord Erik’s
people know.”

“Indeed,” the knight confirmed. “I gather that there might be perhaps an
issue with the choice?”

“May I answer your question with one of my own?” Tramma asked. Feeling
as much as seeing her friend’s assent, she queried, “Did Dame Nerwen
give an opinion?”

“She seemed quite delighted,” Tregarth recalled. His eyebrows furrowed
as he added, “Positively *tickled*, in fact.”

“I thought so,” Tramma grinned wryly. “Elven humour, even among august
knightrixes. Let’s just say that among some cultures clearly not your
own, a variation of a Rainbow Flag has other connotations.” She then
proceeded to describe in fine details just *what* those connotations
might be. “I just wonder if whoever suggested this knew that, too. You
certainly have a few wise-asses up there who would not hesitate to set
you up this way.”

“I see,” Tregarth mused when she’d completed her short dissertation. “I
do not happen to swing that way myself,” he began, but Tramma cut him off.

“You don’t have to prove that to *me*, big guy,” she chuckled. “Or
rather, you already have. And I’d be delighted to have you prove that to
me again. Tonight, even. Almost a shame this is so delightful or I’d
suggest we ask Max’s permission and get started, but this is too nice.
He gives GREAT romantic moonlight ride…”

A flick of one ear and an empathic message in his Rider’s mind suggested
that Maximus both appreciated the compliment and certainly would not
have minded if his riders engaged in some romance. An empathic
impression in Tregarth’s mind that invoked a truly intriguing image
managed to suggest that the riders might even find a way to manage “in
the saddle”, so to speak, and the Steed would not have objected in the
least.

Chuckling at the image while leaving the reins in only one hand,
Tregarth gently stroked her cheek, deftly running a single finger up to
near the single winter flower nestled in her hair. “I would be MOST
delighted to, later tonight.”

Again, she snuggled back against the huge knight. “Mmmm,” she purred.
“Anticipation, leading I hope, to delayed gratification. Something
that’s kinda new to me.”