|Summary:||Isolde with Wayland and a few sworn ride to the fields to find herbs for the Lady's stocks.|
|Open fields and hills.|
|Fri August 5, 288|
The day is another hot one, but done over with middling grey clouds that have want to break at times to let the sun peek through. The small company upon horseback makes it's way through the northern fields, led by the Lady of Stonebridge. Her dear cousin, somewhere trailing behind is watched by several sworn. Nearest to the Lady is her trusted guard, Ser Wayland and she curls her hands about her reins, bringing Dem about, the dappled gelding throwing his head a momenta she stops to look over the rolling hills.
There is a faint frown that touches her lips and her riding gloves shifts, left brushing at her right before she heels her horse forward, heading down to the marshy ground between knolls.
Wayland rides next to Isolde in complete silence, carefully looking around them as they go. With all the things that have been happening, he has been on constant alert mode, specially when close to Isolde. When she stops, he does the same and lifts his right hand as a way of letting the others know that they should stop as well. His attention moves to her and he observes her frown for a moment. When she decides to start marching again, Wayland lets his horse know that it's time to move, and so he does. "What is troubling you, my lady" asks Wayland in a quiet voice, fully aware that perhaps secrecy needs to be maintained.
Looking towards Wayland, Isolde offers a faint smile, "There are always things to trouble a Lady's mind…nothing that need so bother a Knight as yourself. Simple things..but now.." She slows her horse to continue to walk with him. "I am looking for arnica…I fear my personal stores have run out. It has a small yellow flower, though it may not be blooming anymore - which makes our search harder." She frowns some and kicks her horse forward, cresting further north along the riverway. The shift of the grasses in the soft wind is but a reminder that it is not strong enough to ease the sweat on her brow. She releases the reins with her right hand, cradling it to her stomach.
Wayland returns a faint smile to her and a nod of his head as they ride. "Arnica…" repeats the man after she says that words "It definitely does the search harder, my Lady…but we shall find it" He follows her on his horse and moves his gaze to the ground, trying to find such flower, or something that resembles it at least." His attention goes back to her and he notices the sweat and the way her right hand cradles to her stomach. He aims to say something but soon realizes that she might not want this to be revealed. Because of this, he starts looking again, even more intently that before.
Isolde, distracted in her discomfort does not see the few small petals that are left in that yellow hue upon a plant that is going to seed. Instead she stirs past it, leavin it to shift in her wake. Fingers curl in her right glove and she grimaces a little. A brush of her hand up through her, moving a bit stiffly to trying to relieve herself of the heavy burden that clings to the heat from her body. Letting out a slow breath, she tries to ignore the heat, setting the reins against the left side of Dem's neck to get the horse to turn right, she shifts in the saddle, eyes closing a moment. "No luck so far, Ser Wayland.." The slosh of hooves through the low flooded fields has her moving on, leaving the unseen arnica behind.
Wayland also misses that one, he was paying more attention to her than to whatever was down in the ground. From time to time, his attention goes back to her and his worry grows, it grows to levels high enough to make his heart speed up just a little bit. "Wait…" offers the man, slowing his horse. He gets down and takes his dagger from his belt, starting to walk in one particular direction, trying to find what he needs to find. "We will find it, my lady" says Wayland now, licking his lips and clearing his throat. It really does take a long time for Wayland to actually find anything, but his attention is taken by the yellow color of something very small that rests on a few bushes a few feet away from them. Wayland looks over his shoulder at Isolde "This way, my lady…" and so, he starts walking that way.
Pressing her hand into her stomach, Isolde grimaces further and shakes her head, "I am not seeing much…it could be the wrong time of year..the cooler months could have been too harsh." But as he speaks of her to hold, she turns her horse slightly, looking back as he dismounts and begins to move through the marsh grasses. "Wayland.." She says and brings her horse about, edging Dem after him. "There is no need.." She starts, her brows furrowing. Stubborn. That is what he is and the lady makes a fine line of her lips. She lets out a faint sound of frustration and grabs her saddle's pommel in order to start to let herself down.
Yes, stubborn, that is what he is. But being stubborn does work sometimes and after approaching further, he finds the yellow flower that Isolde spoke of. "Here…" says the man, kneeling down. He looks over his shoulder at her, fully knowing that she is not well, fully knowing that there's a reason she is looking for this particular flower. He is of course, no herbalist..but the way she looks, yeah. All the other guards remain on their horses, just a few feet away. Gloved hands dig through the grass, taking a better look at what's there, nodding in acceptance and taking a deep breath "Here, my lady…" repeats Wayland.
Isolde watches him and draws closer, slowly, picking her steps closely. The does note what he found and that stern look starts to fade from her face as she steps about to gaze down at the plant he crouches beside. "The roots…we will need to dig it up.." Though there is no offered thanks, the Lady's mood lightens as she keeps her gloved right hand to her stomach. "If you could, please.." She asks of him, her dark hair falling against her cheek before she lifts her left to try press it away.
Wayland looks at her as she approaches and then looks at the plant again "Certainly, my lady" says the man, moving his left hand to his dagger, pulling it from the small scabbard attached to his belt. He looks at the plant for a moment and then pushes the dagger into the dirt, but not close to where the roots would be. He starts working with the dirt, shifting and cutting all around the plant. Fingers dig into the dirt, really careful not to break any of the roots, just trying to bring the entire thing up. It seems to be working, it's coming up and some of the roots can be seen poking out into open air now. He knows he needs to be careful on how he words things, so he justs asks "My Lady, how long do we have?" hoping that she'll understand him. And even so, his voice is kept low.
Watching him, Isolde moves about opposite Wayland to get to her own knee in the damp earth. She shifts, moving the cloth away so that she can lower her good hand to help pry up the plant. At his question, her head lifts and green eyes look at him. Her lips part and she does not answer him at first. Looking back to the work she speaks, "Several days of painful wait till it is spent on its own. But with the Arnica, I can relieve it in half a day with enough poultice." She says, tucking her arm and hand closer to her reflexively. As the earth is beaten back and the plant slowly claimed, she is tilting her head, brows furowwing as she presses her fingers in to one side. "Get the other." She instructs gently.
Wayland quietly eyes how she protects her hand and arm. He nods to her last words and a simple "Yes, my lady" is offered as he starts working on retrieving the other one, wanting to provide as much assistance as possible. "Perhaps…" offers Wayland in a soft whisper, without stoping his work. "Next time, you'll learn that gloves…" Dagger goes into the ground again and he starts shifting the blade. "…can be of much help" He still doesn't look at her, he just keeps working. But needless to say, the way she is moving her hand…it tells him that the problem might have started there. "The sooner the better" says the man finally, pulling an entire block of dirt from the ground, along with the flower, and it's roots.
"My Lord is wise.." There is a faint humor it in response to his glove comment. Isolde rises as he draws it out and she moves, pulling from the front of her saddle a linen shoulder sack. She takes a moment to unfold it and press it open, using her guarded hand to aid with this. Turning towards him, she moves back and holds it out, gripping the one strap on either end for him to deposit the plant within. She is silent, the glove tight over her right and as the other on her left ifts rather easily. A splotching of red shows a bit on her right wrist.
There is a very faint chuckle offered by Wayland and a faint smile "Sometimes I surprise myself" this also said with humor in the tone of his voice, however, well guarded and hushed. He looks at her as she marches to get that shoulder sack and when she approaches again, holding it open, the man carefully deposits both plants inside, making sure that they are not hitting against eachother. The red on her wrist is noticed and he says "Cover that" in a very quiet tone as well, but still, nothing that any outsider would be able to magically decode. Heck, she might not even know what he is talking about.
Gazing down, Isolde slides the sleeve of her dress down. "My Lord.." She intones in reply. "Thank you…" She slings the shoulder strap up to rest and settle against her back. Shifting it to settle against her, the leaves brushing against her hair. Moving back for Dem, her eyes are distant in thought as she reaches up, having a little trouble with setting herself to the saddle. Her right hand a the back of the saddle can not get a grip.
Wayland just nods to Isolde as she thanks him and then looks back at the dirt. He rubs his gloved hands together, getting some of the dirt out. His attention moves to Isolde again as she tries to go up to her saddle. Wayland walks towards her and takes a quick look at the other guards. The man takes off his gloves to avoid getting her dress with dirt and stands in a way that would shield the view from others. "My lady, here…" Since he doesn't want to raise suspicions, he doesn't reach to touch Isolde but says "Use your hand on my shoulder to push yourself up" says the man in a normal tone and then, in a more hushed one "Be strong"
That hopping skip, trying to draws herself up is not working so well and Dem gets impatient, nearly taking a step. But is Wayland's offer that stills her finally and Isolde gives a nod. Reaching out her hand, she grips his shoulder and with a hop, she pushes herself up, her right hand hooking and grimacing as she draws herself up. Swinging her leg over, Dem takes a few steps to the side and she is then fixing her skirts. Looking over the rest of the contigent, she then gives her attention to Wayland. "My Lord, I am always as strong as I can be…trust in that." She dips her head, dark braid shifting down her back as she draws Dem in to control with her one hand on the reins, satchel on her back. "Shall we return?" She asks in general.
Wayland takes a couple steps back when she is on her saddle and nods her head at her fist words, showing a faint smile "Of that, I have no doubts, my lady" And now, when that last question is asked, he bows and says "We shall, my Lady" His attention goes to the guards and he makes a sign with his right hand, so everyone can start moving. As for himself? Well, he walks back to where his horse is and gets on his saddle, taking the reins. The man guides the horse to turn around and positions himself next to Isolde, starting his known process of…looking, just looking at what's out there.
"A sharp eye as always, Ser Wayland. You are a credit.." Isolde compliments him and dips her head again before she heels her horse and starts forward, driving them back south to Stonebridge. The slow trot she takes up causes the plants to shift on her back at first and then settle once she finds the rythmn with her horse. Keeping the reins in one hand, Dem responds with ease. The Lady keeps that right hand tight to her.
"My lady is very kind" offers Wayland with a soft smile on his lips. When she starts moving, he follows, and so do the rest of the guard and companions that went with them for the ride. The man keeps one hand on the reins and the other on the pommel of his sword, carefully looking at the wide picture in front of them, trusting the guards to cover the rear. However, he does look over his shoulder from time to time, to see how the picture looks there. The main remains in silence, keeping a careful eye on Isolde as well, but making sure that it's not 'obvious'.