| The Aftermath |
| Summary: | The ladies at Tordane Tower, and Senna, receive the injured after the stoush with the Ironborn. |
| Date: | 29/December/288 |
| Related Logs: | Beyond the Eagles Reach |
| Players: |
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| Tower Hall, Tordane Tower |
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| The entrance to the tower opens into a larger common room for receiving guests. Effort has been made to bring warmth and light to the interior, as well. Rugs have been hung from the stone walls as well as placed on the floor to bring at a welcoming ambiance. There is a large table with several chairs off to the left of the door, a cooking hearth against the back wall, and a wooden staircase that leads up. An antechamber behind the stairs is where the servants live and bed down. |
| 29 Dec 288 |
Downstairs, in the main hall, there is indeed something of a bustle. Or as much of a bustle as can be gotten from serving men and women under the direction of a servant who spends most of her time in the Mire. But Senna seems to be getting by on the values of being someone who isn't in shock in the presence of people who aren't. And at least the water is warm if not quite boiling yet. Tables have been pushed aside or into small groupings, surgery centers of a sort.
Amidst the buzz in the hall is Lucienne, still looking pale. In between sorting out a tableful of supplies for treating the injured, she's taking frequent pauses to wring her hands together, and glance towards the doors.
The dog has fortunately been ordered back to the kennel. With a strong stomach, Lorna is helping to ready the palets to be used for laying out the wounded, pausing every so often to finish rolling up a bandage as she's needed. She too takes frequent, furtive glances toward the door.
Amongst the others, Isolde is watching the room being rearranged for a time. Emerging from the kitchen, she begins to lay out the strips of the bandages with the others. "It would be good if…well. If we don't have to use all of these." she offers a smile to Lucienne and touches her shoulder lightly before turning back to the kitchens to help bring in a few more herbs that have been ground down to be added to hot water as needed for poultices.
The wounded trickle in and after a bit of time passes, one more joins them. He's no man of Stonebridge, at least not in any way any of the current lords would acknowledge, but Gedeon Rivers is sporting a set of bloody maile and a somewhat worn expression as he steps inside the tower has hasn't seen from within since he was a boy.
Senna rolls up her sleeves, taking advantage of the not-quite boiling water when she can to wash her hands and forearms before looking to Isolde. "I rode into the Rebellion with my father, my lady. I learned how to deal with the wounds of battle. If you and the maester will direct me, I'll be glad to see to those I can," she offers.
As the first injured enters, Isolde nods to Senna and looks up. Gedeon. She furrows her brows. "See to him, please." She motions to the worn night, bloodied from battle. "Get him to a chair and I will come to help you with his armor." She nods her head. "Thank you, mistress." She says with a faint smile, though it seems the sight of Gedeon in the hall has surprised her to some degree.
As the wounded enter, the Terrick girl looks up, but each time her dark eyes hang hopeful upon a face, she's disappointed. Her shoulders slump, and she returns to the sorting. "It would," she tells Isolde, nodding weakly as she lays out some herbs in convenient quantities. As the Nayland lady speaks, she looks over her shoulders; the sight of Gedeon, whilst not exactly who she's looking for, brings the hint of hope to her expression.
A short time after the prodigal half-brother, the two guards at the doors to Tordane Tower open that portal again to admit a familiar, if chilly, individual. Rygar steps in, head bared, but otherwise fully armed. Cold blue eyes scan the common room for a retainer."
Lorna sees what Senna is doing, and remembering her own lessons in such arts - minimal though they might be, she imitates Senna in her action - it's the highest form of flattery. She looks up as Gedeon arrives, and apparently unaware of the significance of his passing through the door. And following him, Ser Rygar. She approaches once her hands are wiped dry. "Ser Rygar, Ser Rivers. You require looking to? Lady Isolde and this good Mistress have us ready to receive you."
Senna bobs the briefest curtsey to Isolde. Crisis or not, some things must be maintained. And then she strides toward Gedeon, casting a sharp gaze over the knight as she offers a shoulder in support. "Ser Gedeon, isn't it?" she asks with a small, reassuring smile. "Come, let's have a look at you and see what we can do to limit the blood on the floors. It's always such a terror to scrub out of the stone."
There is a faint nod from Gedeon to Isolde and another one that holds a tiny smile as his eyes meet Lucienne's. When Lorna speak, he says, "I'm not hurt so very badly. Please, I think Ser Rygar would best be seen to, first."
Rygar regards Lorna as "Lady Frey," inquires after looking to. "What I require is a map, and the Master of Ravens." An eye turned toward Isolde. "Lady. What word has been sent?" he prompts, evenly. Only once Senna acknowledges Gedeon does Rygar's eye fall upon the Rivers knight.
Turning at the sound of Rygar's question, Isolde hesitates in moving to help Gedeon. "Goodcousin…" She intones and moves him. "Word of the attack, of them most likely being repelled for now has been sent by the Maester. If you have wish to speak to him, he is amongst those readying to receive the injured. Since word is sent, I think it most prudent you sit yourself so that we may attend you." She instructs, her brows furrowing at the sight of him.
Lucienne just stands, frozen for a moment as she watches the other girls receiving the knights come in the door. Maybe she's waiting for something, or someone. Maybe she's having a seizure. That last one is not very likely.
Rygar does not protest at the advice to sit, although neither does he cease his words. "Lady Terrick," he spares a moment to greet Lucienne, before regarding Isolde. "Where. Have the birds been sent, Lady? If the ravens to the Mire have all flown, I will require a courier be summoned." A short breath s drawn before he voices, "Seagard is besieged."
"Sit." Senna brooks little resistance from Gedeon, guiding him to a chair and starting in on his armor with the ease of practice. "Let's take a look at the wounds and see what they are before we decide who needs attention first. Besides," she adds, glancing to Rygar before arching a brow at Gedeon, "The disposition of Stonebridge is Ser Rygar's first concern at the moment. And may be for some time, if there's an invasion underway. I doubt the king will be particularly concerned with other matters until that's taken care of."
Lorna's eyes drift over to Gedeon and Senna briefly, and then she notes to him, "All these can be brought to you Ser, but if your wounds are not treated and they fester, you will not be able to do much of anything, and you are sorely needed. So please." She gestures to where he might sit and be tended to.
Gedeon holds Rygar's gaze for a silent beat before he says, "Their boats contained stone hammers, spikes, wedges and mauls. They meant to take the keep." He glances to Senna, but then Rygar speaks again and he glances sharply back, brows arched upwards. "Seagard," he repeats. He finds himself led to a chair and sitting down in it with a faint sigh. "I'm well enough, mistress. I know my own innards well enough to determine, at least, if they're in any danger of spilling out." Glancing again towards Lucienne, he lifts a hand his fingers moving to urge her to approach.
"We have sent them to our neighbors, goodcousin. The Roost, the Mire, the Crossing, Seaguard, Tall Oaks and Oldstones…" Isolde says quickly enough, thinking she has covered them all. Once he is seated, she moves about, undoing the gorget carefully and setting it aside. She exhales and shakes her head, not liking the sight of all the blood that has somehow gathered there. "Are you certain Seaguard is besieged?" She asks, her voice a bit softer. She then moves to help him with the rest of his gear, going for straps as she moves about the fore of his chair.
Lucienne blinks a few times in quick succession as Rygar greets her, finally snapping back to matters at hand. "Ser," she says softly, dipping a curtsy before retreating to allow him his conversation with Isolde in relative privacy. She edges toward Gedeon and Senna, wringing her hands uselessly in front of her, and begging the retainer girl: "Is there anything I can do, Miss?"
Rygar gives an impatient look to Isolde when the Lady of the house asks if he is certain. No vocal answer to that question is given, as he lowers himself to a chair with a stonefaced countenance. "I suspect the bridge, and not the Tower were their intention, Ser," he voices crisply to Gedeon. "A second bird must needs be prepared to the Fortress of the Sevens, and the Twins. As well, provisions need be gathered. Water, beer, flour, meats." He ends the litany there, presuming the point is made.
"Lovely," Senna murmurs at Gedeon's description of the contents of the boats, though that seems more to herself than anyone else. "I suddenly miss the Mire dreadfully." For his words about his innards, he gets only an unconvinced look as she works through buckles and fastenings with brisk efficiency. "What about your shoulders, Ser?" she asks. "We'll need to get you out of this to take a look at things, and I'd rather not irritate anything." Lucienne at least gets a small smile. "Some of the water and some bandages would be useful, m'lady."
"Do you mean to have them brought here then?" Isolde asks about the provisions, though a look towards the Maester is given in between removing the armor from Rygar. "It will be done." She says firmly and than is moving down his arms to take that off as well. "I will have the ravens prepared, what do you wish to send in these missives?" She asks of him. Each item is set down and she is quickly moving on to the next.
There is a nod for Rygar's assessment as Gedeon shrugs out of armor with a faint wince. For his shoulders he says, "They both work." To Lucienne he adds, more gently, "My lady, I did not much see them on the battlefield. But there were not so very many fallen when the fight ended. Your brother and squire were not among them."
"At once," Lucienne replies to Senna, most gratefully. She's about to turn as Gedeon addresses her, the well of tears adds a shine to her eyes for what she expects he has to say. What he speaks is very different, and elicits a gulp of breath and a tiny smile from the lady. She nods, and adds a heartfelt, "Thankyou," before scurrying off to fetch water and bandages as bid.
"Provisions suitable for two hundred men and fodder for fifty horses," Rygar stipulates, as he sets first one, and then the second gauntlets on the table top. "Seagard beseieged, raid upriver to Stonebridge. Calling banners, require reinforcement," he recites to Isolde. Gedeon's answer to Lucienne is followed by a brief, "At first count, there were two men of the levy killed outright. A small number wounded." A steadily drawn breath, in which he queries, "And where is His Lordship?"
"Your innards are indeed still innards," Senna notes approvingly once Gedeon's out of his armor, her hands cool and and purposeful as they move over the knight's form. Her fingers linger at his ribs, pressing gently as she watches his features for any reaction to the pressure.
Whether or not Rygar permits his armor to come off - which will surely require some assistance from others - the one wound that Lorna can tend to at least initially, is the one at his neck. She is not tentative about her efforts, nor is she overly rough. But she does firmly push her hand against his jaw so she can get at the neck wound to clean it, and otherwise does not serve to distract from his efforts of intelligence and sitrep. She does still occasionally flit glances toward Senna and Gedeon, Isolde and Lucienne, but otherwise focuses on her patient. "Good mistress, my ladies." she calls out. "I suspect my skills will be meager to Ser Rygar's needs. When you are free, could you please come assist?"
"Good to know I've still got the knack, then," Gedeon says as his armor and then his shirt come off. There's a gash on the side of his chest, close to his arm, and it's still bleeding sluggishly and could likely do with some stitches. But, besides that obvious wound, nothing else seems to be causing him any distress.
"Yes of course…." She makes note of what is needed in supplies. Isolde recites what Rygar has told her to be sent to the Maester and when Lorna comes to help, she smiles in thanks. She is making mentalnotes to hesrelf and than when Ryker is asked of, the lady hesitates. "He is..how do we say…he is attempting to assemble something of armor for himself. I have let him to the room of my father's to see what he could find. Though I think he will find what he needs in my brothers." She admits. "He does not wish to stay within the tower should another wave of ironmen come." She tells Rygar, though it seems Isolde does not take to the idea. "I shall get him if you like…and I will be glad to help Lady Lorna…" She nods her head and moves off to gather a bowl of hot water and bandages.
Senna glances up at Gedeon with a dry expression. "I once watched a man walk himself into the healers tent after a battle. He was completely unaware that his intestines were being held in by his breastplate until it was taken off," she notes, deadpan. "The interesting part was that he didn't feel a thing as they were pushed back inside of him. Apparently, innards don't get much sensation. I doubt they lose out on much because of it, considering their usual location." As she speaks, she carefully daubs at the wound in his chest, lips twisting faintly at the depth. "You'll live. But there are better hands with a needle than I, if you'd rather not have an unsightly scar and don't mind waiting," she adds, glancing over her shoulder at Lorna's call.
When Lucienne returns, it's with a bowl of water carried carefully in both hands, and a number of bandages wedged in between her arm and her side. To her credit, she's not phased by the gore of Gedeon's wound, though she does stare rather openly at the knight's chest as Senna dabs at it. "Bandages, miss, and water," she announces.
"Oh I think I was struck too high to worry about spilling my intestines," Gedeon muses, "though thank you, mistress, for that rousing tale." He smirks very faintly, even as he tilts his head to try and get a better look at his gash. "I'll weather the scar. I'd rather be stitched and mending for when the next wave come."
Rygar shakes his head to the offer of fetching Ryker. "That will not be needed, Lady." He draws a short sharp breath through the nose as the pressure is maintained against the neckwound, after the gorget had been removed.
Senna's lips quirk as she glances up at Gedeon. "Well. It can always be worse, after all," she murmurs, a brief, warm note of amusement in her voice. "Thank you, Lady Lucienne," she adds as Lucienne returns, looking toward Rygar once more. "Tell me, how are you with a needle?" she asks the lady with a small smile.
Passing buy the stairs to get around back to Rygar, Isolde returns with bandages and water for now, setting them to the floor beside his chair. But it is the tumble of the Maesters attendant down the stairs that attracts her attention. "Lady..lady…" He crows and moves for Isolde. "Ravens have come…a message.." He holds it yet and moves to the Maester as he comes over. Isolde is faster and snatches the message away, opening it and beginning to let her gaze take in what is on note. She catches her breath and furrows her brow for a moment in silence. "The Roost…they are under attack as well." She says, perhaps not loud enough at first.
"Milady, I suspect it will be more of my assisting you than the other way around." Lorna replies to Isolde as she presses on the neck wound as firmly as she may without actually hurting the man she's trying to help. "Do be st — " it dies on her lips and she looks up, shocked.
"Who, me?" Lucienne's brows shoot up at Senna, and she sets the bowl of water down on the nearest table. "The simple stitches don't trouble me," she says with some small measure of confidence, setting the bandages down one by one. "But miss, I've not ever sewn a wound together myself, game as I may be to try."
It is fair to say she didn't hear Isolde!
"A fair concern," Senna admits at Lucienne's answer, leaning back a bit to look toward Lorna and Rygar. "My lady?" she calls over. "Might you be more comfortable with a few simple stitches on a flesh wound?" She pauses to consider Gedeon, dabbing at the wound again. "Maybe a few more than a few, but it looks clean."
"Um," Gedeon points out, frowning faintly, "the pin cushion has an opinion about that as well." He frowns faintly, looking from the maester to Isolde. If he didn't hear her words, he can well-enough see her expression. "What news?" he asks.
Rygar turns his own eye to Isolde as word is shared, but only half heard. As Gedeon has stated the question, he does not find it necessary to restate the 'What news?' query. The stern knight remains silent.
Looking up and over at Gedeon as she turns to face the room. She clears her throat. "The Roost has sent word that they are besieged by the enemy as well." Isolde lifts her voice a bit more clearly. "There is little else to the letter." She intones and gives a look from Gedeon to Lucienne. There is sympathy there in her gaze. "I am sure the walls are safe there." she intones, with little else to say for comfort.
"Aye." Lorna admits to Senna, and then quite simply plucks up Rygar's rist and brings his own hand gingerly to his neck to apply pressure to his neck until someone can take over for him.
Gedeon blinks slowly for that, tucking this news away. He lifts a hand, rubbing it slowly over his face. "At this point, I begin to want what of the coast they haven't struck."
Lucienne ducks her head as Gedeon offers his frowny opinion on who should sew him up, glancing over to the little row of bandages she's set out. Only as Isolde speaks again does she look up, her eyes wide with emotion as her head snaps to the Lady. She bites down hard on her lower lip and starts to look about the room, saying nothing for the moment as she begins to wring her hands again.
Senna presses her lips together at the mention of the Roost. "And once again, I miss the Mire," she murmurs to herself, moving to stand as Lorna approaches. "I've started to clean it," she updates the other woman. "But it wouldn't hurt to give it one more go. If you'll leave off the bandage when you're finished, we'll add a poultice to keep out infection first." Once that's in hand, though, she's moving toward Rygar, pausing to clean her hands once more. Wouldn't want to give him Gedeon cooties.
Lorna looks to Isolde a moment in concern - but there are wounded, and comfort can come later. Murmuring a, "Thank you, Mistress.", she follows Senna's example again, washing her hands for the second time before coming over to Gedeon and inspecting the wound. Senna did a thorough job, but as the healer said, it doesn't hurt to go over it again. So that's part one of Stiching Up Gedeon. All together, she's learning a fair bit.
A nod is given to Gedeon's comment and Isolde takes a moment before returning to Rygar and offering the letter. "Let me see to your wounds and the ravens shall be out. If my good cousin would premit, I will take some guards and go rounding up the supplies as needed and bring them here to the tower." She intones and begins to clean up the wound along the lord's neck first, soaking a bandage and using it as a rag to clean away the crust and dirt.
Rygar holds his hand where it is placed, drawing a slow breath through flared nostrils. A frown narrows his eyes. "Seagard ad Four Eagles, with a raid to our own shores. Had they cut the bridge, they might have threatened as far upriver as the Twins." His free hand closes on the offered letter, inspecting it briefly. "Wagons and beasts as well. Collect from the smallfolk at cost, if we must."
"Quite a reach," Gedeon agrees mildly for Rygar's words as Senna moves away and it's Lorna that sees to his injury now. He falls quiet, allowing the Lady Frey to do her work in relative peace.
A nod is given in silence to Rygar. "It will be done…" She adds and motions a servant over. "Poultice please…for infection.." She keeps her voice low, though her gaze lifts and steals over to Lucienne. A breath is drawn and released as the bowl beside her begins to color with blood as she continues to clean and address the wound. The poultice is applied when brought and she begins to wrap with clean bandages.
By the time Senna reaches Rygar, though, Isolde has things well in hand. "Is there anything else you need, m'lady?" she offers, scanning the incoming injured even as she offers assistance.
After a long moment spent with an unfocused gaze and her fingers wrung in front of her, Lucienne presses both hands to her chest to try and still the racing of her heart. She ducks her chin to look at her feet, and closes her eyes, holding the pose as she breathes deep and rhythmically. Her lip is still held tightly between her teeth.
Lorna's lips press together tightly at the mention of the twins. "There aren't enough Ironborn to compete with the sheer volume of the Freys." she says with a touch of stubborness, and the smile she gives Gedeon is a touch feral, though the ferocity is not directed to him. "Here we meet again." The wryness dripping from her tone is hard to miss as she re-cleans the wound, and then takes up thread and needle once she's confirmed they are clean. There's a blink in Lucienne's direction, and she calls out to a servant, "A cup of water for the Lady Terrick, please?" Now. Back to business.
"My Lady," Gedeon offers to Lucienne, turning his head to study her anguished profile, "If one of your family had been harmed, the message would have have said. For now, we must believe their keep walls protect them well. They were designed just for such, after all." Peering over at Lorna, he nods. "Here, so we do. My regards to Stormer, my lady."
"They will not make it as far as the Twins..they have spent so much here on our shores already…" Isolde has taken a rather solemn purposeful tone and she mvoes to address the wounds at the lord's abdomen. Her gaze lifts as Senna speaks. "No, mistress. I think I am well, but after I am done here, I will be needing to see to other things. There are others, if you could see to them so the Maester could be freed to help me as well. I would ever be grateful."
That earns Gedeon a sudden smile. "You remember her name." she says, and oh hey, his stock just went up. "I'm afraid this will not be pleasant. Try not to flinch about too much." She listens to the conversation, but can't really contribute as she does her best to sew neat, sturdy little stitches to hold the blonde man's skin together.
"They have spent nothing," Rygar sniffs in derision at the Ironborn losses. "Two ships. Twenty men killed, as many more drowned or scattered? There are hundreds besieging Seagard. Perhaps thousands." A look toward Lorna. "We shall have need of Lord Frey's men. And Lord Charlton's, Lord Erenford's and Lord Haighs." Another thought strikes. "Riders," he comments, "Lady Isolde. Riders must be sent west, to gather any of the Terrick vasslas who are cut off from Four Eagles."
"Yes, m'lady," Senna bobs to Isolde, slipping away to see to the other injured people.
"I will do all that you ask, is there anything I should bring for you?" She asks than. "I will see to the matters you wish and have men selected and led by Ser Wayland to go to the west and bring back those who are in need. Are there any other preparations we can make in defense that I can pass along to the knights?" She asks of him, patience in what she does. Though there is disappointment in the regard of how little was done, the Lady saw things only from afar. Poultice is set to the wounds and one deserves a stitching.
"Aye," Lucienne returns to Gedeon, the word more breath and sigh than any real note. She lifts her head, setting her hands upon her cheeks briefly then to her sides, smoothing them down over her skirts, trying to regain some composure. She sends a look to Rygar, the corners of her mouth turning down a frown despite her wish to offer him a smile.
Rygar keeps his head still so as not to disturb the pressure on his neck. "No, Lady. The knights have been given thier orders. Well," he corrects himself curtly. "All Stonebridge knights have been given their orders. As well there are Jarod Rivers and his squires, and a free lance who joined us in the square." A look to Gedeon includes him, but he does not add the man's name to the list.
"Perhaps Ser Jarod and who I am guessing you refer to as Ser Cooper…would be willing to go with Wayland. Ser Jarod would be glad of the chance to aid his people if he can. In any case, these things will be done. I will see to them with my lord husband." It means Rygar should stay, at least she hopes he will do nothing so foolish as to move about while still injured. She is than addressing his final wound and repeating his words for the ravens to herself while she binds his chest.
There is, for Rygar's glance, only a faint nod from Gedeon. An answer, as silent as the question, before he leans back in his seat and blinks slowly at the wall across from where he sits.
Senna has left.
Gedeon has left.
"I'm certain that Ser Jarod will lend his help as he's able," offers Lucienne softly, taking a step back over toward Isolde and Rygar. "We… as will I, though I'm no knight. As you have need of us, the Terricks will assist," she pledges solemnly.
"I am certain the Freys will take great pleasure in the opportunity to rid the world of a few Ironborn." Lorna, finished with Gedeon's wound, lets him lay back to close his eyes and drift to distract himself from the pain.
"I am sure many will be glad to see them put down at the end of a sword, but for now, we need to make sure we do not lose a man to there injuries, not one." Isolde looks to Rygar as she steps back, taking the bowl of water. "I will have food brought out for the men immediately and than set about the plans. Milicent will do well enough to take things from here concerning feeding the levies and those in our hall." She looks to Lucienne, giving her a faint smile. "I think, my lady, that your position here as an emissary could not have been timed better." She dips her head and steps back, handing off the basin to go in search of Milicent.
"No, Ser Cooper is known to me. This was another," the stern Nayland answers Isolde's guess of naming Tam as the free lance. His hard blue stare flicks aside in his motionless head to fix upon Lucienne. He says nothing.
"The one who gave Lady Isolde his horse?" asks Lorna with interest as she moves to wash her hands. Again.
Lucienne returns Isolde's smile with a small curve of her own, joining her hands primly again at her front as the other lady heads off. Her own eyes, dark in both colour and nature, come to rest upon Rygar as he watches her. She says nothing, too, weathering his gaze upon her unblinkingly as though it is some kind of test; perhaps, in her mind, it is.
