Page 180: Waiting And Waiting
Waiting And Waiting
Summary: Still waiting for battle…
Date: 13 January 2012
Related Logs: All the camp logs
Players:
Senna Anders Keelin 
Worn road - Terrick's roost
Army encampment. Lots of men. Too many women.
13 January 289

Senna steps out of the Oldstones tent, squinting a bit against the sunlight and pausing to stretch carefully, pressing one hand to the small of her back. As recovery progresses, she has more of a chance to get out, but bedside vigils and wound inspections can still take their toll. Not to mention the myriad tasks set to a common woman among the troops. There's more activity in the camp than usual this evening, though, men cleaning weapons and starting to pack their things for a quick departure.

With any luck, there are more men in camp as well as more activity. Finally, finally, finally the word is that they're moving tomorrow, and armed with the knowledge of time and positions, Lord Ser Anders can finally relax, oddly enough. Now there's an outlet. He's crossing the camp, speaking to a couple of his men in low voices, but the intensity is there in the gestures. Before he's halfway to his camp, however, the pair offer proper courtesies and move off on a tangent, towards the Flint's horses. Keen eyes don't miss the movements of the others, and Senna is no different. She's the one that his Corrie's been sharing the work load with, and he slows to speak with her. "I am sending Lady Flint back to Stonebridge this evening. Would you like to attend her?"

One of the newer arrivals at the camp, Ser Keelin Dorsey is. He'd been sent on a mission by his liege and on his way back, well, look what he found. His horse has been stabled and he's found a tent with a spare spot of ground for him to lay his head on. That much is quite straightforward, for sure. He has a mug of ale in hand, as he wanders the camp, eyes checking out the heraldry at the various tents and identifying best he can who is here. Or not, as the case may be. The Flint colours now, they draw his attention briefly, curiosity showing for a long moment. He finishes his ale and replaces the mug on the table he got it from, and then he meanders over towards those curious colours, pausing politely and clearing his throat as he nears so as not to accidentally sneak up on anyone.

Senna's brows rise at Anders' offer, and she half-turns to make sure there isn't anyone standing behind her. "My lord," she curtseys politely, then looks around the camp for another moment, considering the question. "I would like to," she admits, a rueful smile touching one corner of her lips. "But I've a feeling my skills will be needed afterwards, and it might be better to be closer than Stonebridge in that case." There's a pause, and then: "Thank you, though."
Keelin

"Shame," Anders begins, his expression setting to the thoughtful, "because she's spoken highly of you. But, I would suggest you check with your lords. The battles ahead promise to be .. more difficult, perhaps, than the rout we'd gained. While your aid may be needed, the thought of safety is also one that should be considered." And that is all he'll say on the matter. The offer is given, and the reason.. and now his attention shifts, albeit briefly, towards the oncoming knight. A brief regard determines the man isn't of noble birth; carriage, manner and mien all announce it, though he's obviously a fighting man. "Greetings."

Noble, no. But that doesn't usually bother him much. He nods to Senna with recognition dawning, though it takes a moment to recall her name. "Greetings," he returns to the noble who spoke up. "M'lord, you are with the Flint contingent, I would guess. I had met a Lady Cordelya along with Mistress Senna here upon my arrival to camp. I am Keelin Dorsey, sworn to House Mallister." That isn't a secret, though in his travels, it wasn't always the sort of thing he wanted to advertise immediately. "Seemed a lovely Lady, she did. Nice and proper at the same time." Okay, he might be overlooking a risque joke or some such, but really, who is counting?

"A wise suggestion, my lord," Senna murmurs with a dip of her chin at Ander's mention of speaking with her lords. "I will of course defer to their wisdom." As Keelin approaches, she considers the man from beneath her lashes, dipping her chin respectfully without falling to a full curtsey. "You said you had ridden from Riverrun, hadn't you, ser?"

Well, there it is— ser. Which makes things a little easier. Anders inclines his head in acknowledgment of Keelin's words, something of a smile on his face with his response. "You could say that…" he is the Flint contingent. "Anders Flint, Heir to Flint's Finger, bannerman to Lord Eddard Stark, and glad for it." Beat. "Well met, Ser Dorsey. We met one of your lords on the path south. A Lord Aeric Mallister. Ship's captain. He will be meeting us when we retake Lord Terrick's Roost." And it's back to Mistress Senna, his attention fully upon her. "Of course. I trust their decision will be wise." The undertone there suggests that perhaps it will be far from that, but he doesn't say anything more about it. Instead, "How fares Ser Rivers?" Asking about a bastard? "Will the departure of Lady Flint cause great hardship in his treatment?"

"Aha, so it's you who is the newly wed then, m'lord Ser Flint?" Keelin asks, a bit of amusement in his eyes. "You've both my congratulations and commiserations on that one." He takes a moment to look at Senna and then he nods his head. "Aye, that I have. I'd been sent there on a mission for m'lord Mallister, and got a message while there to come meet up with you all here. I suppose that's fair enough as I'd have trouble getting back to the right side of trouble, if what i'm hearing is right. Is there something about it, Mistress?" And then back to Anders with a nod. "Lord Aeric. Haven't seen him in a while." He pauses, and then adds, "Truthfully though, I've a thought that many of us might have been fighting together at the Trident."

"He's recovering well, my lord," Senna answers Anders first, glancing over her shoulder to the tent. "I wouldn't approve him fighting if it's any time within the next…two weeks," she adds. "But he's healing, and I think the worst of the weakness has passed. And the infection definitely has, thanks to your lady wife's aid." She shakes her head to Keelin then, looking in the direction of Riverrun. "No, nothing of it, ser. Just that it means they Ironborn must not have penetrated that far yet, which is promising."

The mention of being newly married brings something of a lopsided quirk to his lips and he nods his assent, "Aye.. and I thank you for it." Anders' brows rise briefly in polite inquiry, "Married, ser?" Catching the information regarding his ride, it sends the courteous, conversational bits to the side and cants his head. "I assume, then, you've met our armies headed south? Or not.. it's big country down there, too. At the mention of the Trident, Anders does indeed give the man a second look. "Trident, eh? Aye.. that too. Seems a good number of our Host has seen the fighting there, but for a good number, this is their first." He considers the knight for a moment, "Fought under the Mallister banner then, aye? Or did you group up with Lord Tully?"

The mention of being newly married brings something of a lopsided quirk to his lips and he nods his assent, "Aye.. and I thank you for it." Anders' brows rise briefly in polite inquiry, "Married, ser?" Catching the information regarding his ride, it sends the courteous, conversational bits to the side and cants his head. "I assume, then, you've met our armies headed south? Or not.. it's big country down there, too. At the mention of the Trident, Anders does indeed give the man a second look. "Trident, eh? Aye.. that too. Seems a good number of our Host has seen the fighting there, but for a good number, this is their first." He considers the knight for a moment, "Fought under the Mallister banner then, aye? Or did you group up with Lord Tully?"
Senna receives his gaze, and shifting his weight as he stands, he nods. "Perhaps your lords will suggest that he be accompanied back to Stonebridge. I can't see him sitting a horse and holding a sword or lance in his shape. If he tried, he'd only be making it more difficult for his comrades." Which then means the mistress will go back to Stonebridge and that his lady will have another of like abilities to speak with. Not a bad thing.

Keelin shakes his head negatively. "Nay, not married. No squire at the moment either," he admits. Just one knight, and his horse. Well, it's something. "Mallister banner," he admits with a nod. "Just was sent recently to Riverrun, and might have a tad bit of trouble returning home on my own." So, here he is. He smiles a little ruefully. "Believe I might be asked to stay with the Mallisters here, for a bit, if it comes to it." He shrugs lightly, and then says, "Aye, I've seen some troops moving and heard about some others. I've a few words for the commanders here, comes to that."

"I suppose we'll see, my lord. Though I suspect Lord Frey might find strong-arming the Oldstones contingent to be…counterproductive," Senna notes with a faint smile. "They're a rather independent little group." She looks out over the camp then, taking in the multitude of banners gathered there. "Though the same might have been said of many who've made there way here."

"When you impart your information, I will be present," Anders says that with some surity. There is no way he'll be kept out of the loop— not when it comes to his men. He nods, and there's something of a smile as he remembers the moments after the Trident. "I haven't had the honour of fighting with your sworn House, ser, but I have only good words for some of the lords of your banner house." Some of them.

"When you impart your information, I will be present," Anders says that with some surity. There is no way he'll be kept out of the loop— not when it comes to his men. He nods, and there's something of a smile as he remembers the moments after the Trident. "I haven't had the honour of fighting with your sworn House, ser, but I have only good words for some of the lords of your banner house." Some of them. "But, welcome, and I am glad to see that you are uninjured in your ride.

"Lord Frey couldn't strongarm a rabbit." Anders mutters, his words coming unbidden before he smirks. There is no apology made, certainly.. and with Senna's observation regarding the camp, Anders can't help but agree with her. "The same can be said, aye.. but some are in a better position to say 'nay'. While every man is indespensible, there is cohesion to be considered. If a wounded man comes, he becomes more of a hindrance to his comrades who now feel they must protect them— thus their attention divided. And should he fall again, what then?" The Young Lord shrugs, "We shall see." He smiles more fully this time and offers Senna his full regard, "And we will speak of other things once we retake the Roost." Good mistresses are hard to find.. and useful ones, even better.

"I've no doubt, nor is it all that much information," Keelin returns, as he thinks on it. "I b'lieve the Tully levies will be at Hag's Mire within another few days, but they're not here yet. And nobody else'd made it to Stonebridge when I came through. Seems whatcha got here is it for a while yet." He shrugs a bit, listening for a moment to the conversation about the Freys, the wounded man, and safety. His own opinion he keeps to himself at the moment, since he's not been here long enough to add to that topic, other than platitudes which nobody needs listen to. "Seems there's quite a few banners here, just not in great numbers, have I the right of it?"

"Limited knights," Senna answers Keelin, though there's a brief sidelong glance toward Anders at his mention of speaking at the Roost. "But even Oldstones mustered fifty bowmen. You may be outnumbered by Ironborn, but better armored and organized. And mounted," she adds, looking toward the horse lines. "Horses don't sail well, I'm told." She looks between the knights for a moment, then smiles prettily. "People talk."

Anders nods in the information, his eyes narrowing as he takes a look at the encampment. There's a twitch in his cheek that hints that perhaps the muscle is clenched, but it's brief. "That's it, then." His levy, Stonebridge's.. and.. did he see Aleister's arrive earlier? It'll be a tough battle. "Aye, mistress.. better armoured and better organized." Well, perhaps not the latter, but definitely the former. "Thankfully they're not accustomed to fighting mounted warriors and the horses can run their line." Not that the Ironborn use lines per se. "Many banners, but you can see how well some houses support the cause. I will grant there are more important battles being fought south of us. The other two houses are with their banner liege."

That gets Senna a peculiar look, though Keelin then bows with athletic grace. "Indeed, Mistress, as we are doing now." He'll acknowledge that it's easy enough to listen, especially in this sort of setting. "But tis not perhaps a spot for decent women to be, given any other choice, nonetheless." His opinion and only that, and even still, he's not giving any orders here and now. Just minding his own. And he listens to Anders' too, grunting and nodding. "Believe I heard, coming to the Mire includes Blackwood, Bracken, Piper and Vance levies, knights and armsmen," he says. "Just they be sommat of a distance apart yet." He too can figure numbers based on what he sees, and determine where there's possibly less than seriousness at this entire situation.

"I'm afraid the line between decent and indecent women is a flexible one, Ser," Senna smiles ruefully to Keelin. "And it often depends on what's needed. It wouldn't be the first time I'd been behind a battlefield. I was with my father at the Trident." She looks in the direction of the Ironborn camp, lips pursing slightly. "The opponents aren't quite of the same caliber here."

They'll be too long in coming, aye ser.. but if we're lucky, then they'll meet us on the doorstep of the Roost." That one'll be harder. "Like the Bells.. house to house. We'll need more men-at-arms than footmen. Horses will be almost useless." The horses won't be able to get out of their own way. Anders pauses in his words to look at Senna and catch her words, his brows rising at the obvious innuendo. (At least to him.) "Why would he bring you there, mistress?" Not a good place for a woman to be. "And no.. at least our opponents were civilized men.. not the creatures that have no thought but to steal rather than work. Dogs they are.. mongrels.. no better than animals."

A conversation in which he cannot possibly win. Ser Keelin bows again, simply not stirring up any further trouble. At least not yet. But give him time, he's only just arrived, after all. Since Anders asks the question he's curious about, he doesn't add to it, though he does grunt once, spitting to the ground off to one side. "Aye, mongrels might be too kind for 'em, but they did bring a lot of friends." And the Roost will indeed not be a nice fight. "Looks to be good fighting for a bit. Might get more folks Knighted out of it."

Senna smiles faintly at Anders' question. "Because my mother was dead, her family wanted no part of me, and my father's family was long gone, my lord," she explains. "There was nowhere else for me to be." She doesn't seem bitter about it, at peace with where her life has taken her. "Besides. There wasn't anyone else to take care of him."

Life is rough everywhere, certainly. "It'll be a rough one." It's when chiurgeons will be useful. Anders takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, "I should see to the final preparations. My squire's off, and hopefully my lady." He looks to Senna, his smile tight in brief sympathy. "Now there's a sentiment. Some would say men need to be looked after, even if it's by his daughters. I don't know about that quite yet," twisting around, he glances back to his tent, "as my lady does enjoy being.. elsewhere, when we're together." His words trail off before he sets himself back. "Anyway.. I should finish. And there's a meal to be had."