Blood and Land

Miriam arrived back just before nightfall, grinning like a mummer. “A good day?” I enquired. “Almost as good as yours. Nice oratory,” she said, sitting down. “Hugo Dubeque told me as my horse was being settled.... Don’t look at me like that, father, I wasn’t flirting with the knights! Or at least I got the gist of it. He seemed rather the worse for wine. You stink of it as well,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “It served it’s purpose,” I replied. “The speech or the wine?” she said archly. I glared at her. “Anyway, is it true? About Hardrada invading first?” “It’s possible. But I can’t see even Hardrada being able to pull together the whole of the North into one power, though. Their blood ties and kinship are linked closer than hauberk rings but they have their rivalries and blood feuds as well. Vicious ones going back generations. Often even the most inspirational captain offering the choicest prospects of riches can’t overcome such animosities. Are you concerned?” I asked, vaguely cheered she was worried for me. “Only for Christopher’s sake. He’ll be esquiring one of the Duke’s first lances, you know,” she said, showing clearly the depths of her filial devotion. “And how goes your campaign?” I replied, slightly acidly. “I’ve scouted the country and the prospects look good. Apart from one major obstacle to conclusions,” she said. “Hubert’s reputation,” I yawned, slightly fugged. “Damned be his reputation!” she replied shockingly. “With him still a part of the Family, if Robert dies in this campaign, Christopher will only inherit half the demesne!” “I don’t really see what you can do about that,” I said, surprised by how much this came as a bolt from the blue. After all, I’d always recognised the pragmatic nature of my sweet, delicate little flower. She stood by the tent flap, ready to go to her own tent now she had a full goblet. “Nor do I. Yet,” she said.