675-08-28 - Pieces in a Game
Pieces in a Game | |||||||
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Summary: Duke and Duchess Istivean deal with the Granville gloom by moving little pieces. | |||||||
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At a wide ledge of a window high in the Chancery Tower, Duke Solinus has turned his back to his wife, his eyes louring out upon a wide, but scattered and impoverished dominion. He stares over the threadbare, persistent scraps of arable amid the fallow, fixing his dark, glum look upon the distant mountains, as if just by standing and concentrating he could see the farmsteads ablaze, feel the pain of their folk and kine, and urge the king's men, as well as his own, to their effective deliverance. Needless to say, he does not look especially contented, or fed, or slept. It is the hour of darkening, but the Duke still resists any blandishments to rest.
The Duchess sits still. A pantheresque impuls to pace up and down the room until the gloom is ripped apart with sharp claws sits illbound in the tension of her body, lurks in the sound of her breath. The only, maddening sound that reaches her ears right now. The stillness of her husband could not differ more from hers, a tantalizing gap that needs to be... she raises and starts to pace, yet she stops all too soon.
"Click."
She reaches for a box of dark wood, one of the rare leftovers of the family's more luxurious objects and puts it on a table.
"Click, clack."
Figures of ebony and ivory are placed on little hexagonal sections.
And the Duke turns half way towards her, as if quite literally torn between land and lady. At first his eye is hard and sceptical...but soon he has shrugged. "Why not disport ourselves while nothing more useful can be managed? And at least you have picked a pursuit which demands some thinking, not the meaningless whirl of a die. I shall...entertain you, if I may, my lady." His smile, sudden and fleeting, twists about, gritty and ambivalent as an earthworm underfoot, revealing the odd tooth passing to the same blackness as the night.
"Alrin," he grunts to one of the attendants never far off even amidst apparent privacy, "see the torches are kept renewed, and bring us something warm that will not befog the head overmuch. My lady, you take the ivories. I know my place is ever amidst the shade."
Ortensia catches the volatile smile and implants it into the warmth of her gaze, that meets the gloomy eyes of her husband. A small nod is offered as he speaks of entertainment as with another 'click, thump, clack' she arranges the figures. As they stand, neatly in their rows, she first plucks the priests among her ivory troupes and sets them aside, then, after a moment of consideration she harvests half of her peasants.
"So tell me how the shades are planning to surround my tender, pale children."
Solinus looks on with wry amusement - his attention now fully, if reluctantly, detached from the window - as his wife sets the priests aside. But her next words have him scowling and making a sign any Granvillean would know at once for an involuntary invocation to Felgurna.
Fortunately only the trusted, confidential servant Alrin is in sight, and indeed earshot, as the Duke swears, "By the motherly name, you might have used a happier phrase." There is still a quivering anger about his demeanour as he assembles his ebony 'forces', and it shows in a bold strategy, with horsemen, a watchtower, a bowmen and both his priests - in notable contrast - to the fore. The bowman is sent on to contest the central ground with that whey faced peasantry...
Another time her blue eyes meets those of Solinus, as he comments on her phrasing, and another time a challenging spark glimmers in their depth.
"My swift, valiant warrior. Look how they tremble," the Duchess murmurs, when her husband moves his tenebrous forces, "And see, the carnage begins."
A horseman is boldly put forth to shield one of the peasants, while the other remains without defense on a priestless line.
"Your opening of play was wiser," Solinus concedes, sounding his older self, in a tone of judicious patronage, "but you aren't following up that strategy. You were wise to prize your infantry. And so must we in the months to come. After all, we can now hardly afford, nor feed, enough horses to drag a dozen wains, let alone carry a host..." Shaking his head of present preoccupations, he takes the exposed peasant with his bowman, but it appears to give him little joy.
"We practice for war on this field, but we'll see weddings before warfare yet, worse luck. Are you acquainted with your brother's betrothed yet?"
"Shush! Ortensia says, shaking her head with leniency towards Solinus' repetetive lecture, lifting one finger up to the vermillion of her lips. Her other hand holds the figure of the Countess with a firm marble grip and puts her amidst the entanglement and threat of two horsemen and a tower. The security of the postion is fragile, however at this time the ivory troupes seem to be shielded at once and the watchtower even sieged.
"Yes, I have had an interesting conversation with the young lady. An elegant and cautious young lady. She still has to heal from the last years, as it seems, but if she manages to find the patience to deal with my brother's quirks, she may even find a bit of happiness down that road. Alajos will treat her well, in his way, I can assure you that."
"As well as he does his fine tapestries and paintings," Solinus scoffs, but there is a slightly melancholy affection in his face which his voice alone would not betray. As he frowns down at the board, he chacks his head amusedly. "A lady's virtue and a castle's safety both under threat...picturesque enough even for your brother, I think. Let us leave it till morning. One more problem to sleep upon makes little difference for the likes of us. Let me take you to your chambers, my lady."
"I have rarely been laying my head on pillows more pebbly than this one," the Duchess replies, shooting a last ponderous look at the figures on the board. "But when the lips of the restless call to rest, who am I to refuse to follow that call?"
Smiling softly she raises to leave the board, the servant and the dancing lights of the torch behind to accompany and be accompanied.