|Paths Perhaps Taken|
|Summary:||Jarod confides the tale of his absconded half-brother in Septon Josse, and they discuss the roads the runaway knight might've taken.|
|Related Logs:||Errand for an Errant Knight; other 'Jaremy's run away' logs|
|Crane's Crossing Inn — Stonebridge|
|A rented room with an open bar.|
Jarod has gotten himself and his not-quite-squire, Caytiv Hill, a room at the Crane's Crossing after they made their way into Stonebridge proper. Ser Rivers is there now, awaiting a certain septon. Young Hill is out about town, continuing the search for signs of the wayward Jaremy Terrick, by whatever name he's going.
The sun is sitting fat on the horizon by the time Josse gets to the inn, starting Stonebridge's descent into evening. Feet dusty from the trek into and around town, the septon raps on Jarod's door with his knuckles before pushing it open. In his left hand is a bottle of wine, which he explains in lieu of a civilized greeting: "I didn't know if you'd got any."
"Brought some, of course, but it's warm by now," Jarod says with a certain distaste. "And I'm not paying the prices they're charging in the commmon room unless I've got to." After he lets Josse in, he flops back into one of the wooden chairs the room is supplied with. "So. Anyhow. Yes. Jaremy's kind of runaway. It's a shorter story than one might think."
Whatever's in Josse's hand is unlabeled, set on the table with a soft thunk before he settles himself into one of the other seats. "Run away?" The wording still manages to surprise him, drawing his brows together. "I guess tell it as it is to tell. I wouldn't even know where to start asking."
Jarod pours himself some wine and drinks before he gets to the telling. "That's about the size of it. Three days ago. A little more, actually, as he left in the night. Alone. No warning. Didn't leave anything but a note, saying he was forsaking his title and all inheritance and heirship and…going off to redeem his honor." He snorts. "No idea where, precisely, though it seems he was headed this direction. I'm worried he's bound toward the Mire. You heard those funny rumors going around about the Lady Isolde?"
"My God," Josse says under his breath. He sets his elbows on the table as Jarod talks, pulling over another glass but not yet filling it. "So that's what you meant by errant knight…hm." His lips make a thin frown. "Rumors…you mean of her and Lord Ryker under guard? That's just one I've heard. Under guard, under chains, it varies, just that they seem to have completely vanished into the Mire."
"May the Warrior guide him." Jarod says it as a toast, though it drips in sarcasm. Drink. "That's how he signed it. May the Warrior guide me. It's draft as seven hells but…that's Jaremy for you." His tone is as much fond as irritated. "Under guard, under chains, been murdered and stuffed in a trunk somewhere. Aye. Those're the ones." He frowns. "Though my sister Lucienne tells me Lady Isolde is fine. She keeps in correspondence with another lady there, who writes of Isolde on occasion. But I doubt Jaremy bothered to check with…anyone if he's gone off on some heroic rescue adventures or some other bollocks."
"Neither would I, unless his plan involved spiriting Isolde away." Josse's tone is as dry as the chilled but cheap wine. He picks up the bottle, pouring some out for himself. "Which as much as it sounds like epic poetry I just doubt Jaremy would try. What about Seaguard?" He sets the bottle back down, looking at Jarod now. "Close on the heels of Amelia's death as this is, you don't think he might see some twisted notion of humility in pursuing…something related to her?"
"I…don't doubt he might try," Jarod says. Though the bit about Amelia makes him nod, and frown. "It's possible. Quite possible. I'm hoping to pick up his trail here. There are lots of directions one could go from Stonebridge. I'll admit I wouldn't be sorry to avoid a trip to the Mire. Safer roads to Seagard, particular for Jaremy. And yet…" He pauses to do some more liberal drinking. "…I don't know. I'd not mind a word with Lady Isolde, I'll admit. Feel out if Jaremy left her some sort of message. And…well, I'm wondering if she still has Gedeon's letters, and what her intentions are with them. Not that she'd be likely to tell me. Nor should she, really. I serve my lord father, and he has his own interests in that matter."
"Naturally." Josse leaves that word sitting there, taking a good swallow or two of wine. "I just don't know if he go marauding into the Mire…if he had even a whit of sense he'd not want to be confronted by Naylands. It would humiliate the Terricks and he must know that. If I had to bet I'd bet he went south. Lord Jacsen might be able to make use of some eyes there."
"Aye, he might, though we're trying to keep things quiet. With all the dramatics that've fallen on Jaremy recently, it'd not do to have our father's liege lord hear one more thing against him, if there's a chance we can still get him back. Resolve it among ourselves." Jarod tries to sound confident of that, though eh doesnt' quite manage it. Anyhow. It'll take time for Jace to even send a raven to Seagard. Jaremy's like as well on his way there by now, if he didn't linger here."
"Aye." Josse has been drinking while Jarod spoke, breaking the flow for that quiet word. "I'm sorry Jarod, this is quite fucked. I can't imagine how it's been for your family."
"It's…quite fucked all in all," Jarod agrees simply. More drinking. "Well. We'll find him, or we won't. Though speaking of the Lady Isolde…I'd wager even if I make it to the Mire, I'll not want to show myself at the fortress. Would you consider paying a call on her? Make sure she'll all right, if nothing else. And…look, I don't want to mix you up in this business with Gedeon's letters too much. But…she must know it's wrong to keep them like this. If she'd just give them to the Camdens, a neutral party, like Ser Gedeon asked…" He sighs, shrugging.
Josse is looking at Jarod drily by the time he gets to the 'make sure she's alright' statement, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop. When it does, his fingernail picks at a chip in the glass' base. "I have the strong feeling that the reason the letters are still with the Naylands may be because she doesn't have them, herself. And being powerless like that does a lot to change one's mind about situations." He clears his throat softly. "What has Lucienne actually heard about her, from this other source of hers?"
"Perhaps. Not much any of us can do but suspect without speaking to the lady herself," Jarod says. As for Lucienne, he shrugs. "Her 'source' is the Lady Igara Frey. They write to each other about…lady things, I guess. And nothing the Naylands wouldn't want leaving the Mire, I'm sure. Enough to know that Isolde in good health in Hag's Mire. That's the most useful that can be drawn from it, I figure."
"Ah yes, the one courting Rowan," Josse drinks again, one brow raising as he clears his throat. "I've met her a few times. That she speaks to Lucienne I admit surprises me a little, but…we're talking about Isolde." A hand waves slightly. "I'll go to the Mire. If you understand that I have to handle it differently than you would." He smiles a little, wry and fond at once. "Do you want her to know that this 'make sure she's well' is from you?"
Jarod gets a laugh out of that. "That's the unlucky girl, aye. And aye, I'm sure you will handle it different." He doesn't sound like he thinks that's entirely a bad thing. As for the last question, he thinks on that. Then shrugs. "I suppose that'd be all right. Aye. Though be careful what you say to her about Jaremy. She is the Lady Nayland now, after all."
"I'm not saying shit to her about Jaremy," Josse answers mildly. "There's no good way to. It isn't anyone else's business until the Terricks make it that way, and I don't intend to be that catalyst."
"Aye." Jarod smirks. "Unless there's some sign he's being held captive in a Nayland dungeon after trying to whisk her away…aye. Best not. Thanks." He finishes his wine, though he doesn't immediately pour another cup. "I may try the common room tonight, come to it. Not for the over-priced drink, but to chat up with others staying here. See if they might've seen Jaremy. You want to join me for dinner? That, I'll pay for."
Josse makes a wry face. "I'll be the optimist here about him being in Nayland dungeons, if only because someone has to be." He smirks after that, finishing off his wine in a last fell swoop. "Aye, I'll come. I haven't heard a damn thing out on the streets, but I'll give it a last go before I head to the Mire." He starts to stand.