The Countess of Vadirska

“And…my lady, I believe that’s check.”
Some songbird sang just outside the sunny window, heralding the late morning, as the armored glove finger moved the particular chess piece into place.
The countess studied the board with a slightly disappointed face. “Oh, I see. Yes, your right.”
The huscarl commander leaned back in his chair, sighing with contentment as he also surveyed the chess board before them, with a tiny hint of satisfaction despite his lady’s position. The small, pearl luxury chamber set higher up in the house’s finer places glittered in the golden light, as the cool winds blew in through the open balcony. The delicate room, filled with odds and ends of furniture of dark wood and soft furs here and there, was covered in the day’s golden light. About half a dozen huscarl guards, two at each of the three entrances to the pretty room, stood motionlessly at attention, their heavy axes on their back and shields in their hands, emblazoned with the house’s emblem.
The distant sounds of the carl guard, down on the castle grounds far below the balcony they sat near, echoed up to them vaguely. The usual sounds of castle life went on about them, as occasionally one of the many chambermaids or serving men would pass through, on their errands.
Countess India of House Vadirska, supreme ruler from Lake Norgista to Kire`falraedis, ssighed at last and moved another one of the polished stone chess pieces across the board, shaking her head.
“I don’t think there’s too much hope for me now.” She smiled faintly, “Well done, Aaron, I think you won.”
Commander Aaron, head of House Vadirska’s forces and chief of the hucarls, reached across and easily flipped the opposing king piece over on Countess India’s side, standing up. “A good game, my lady.” He replied, and began replacing all the pieces back at their original spaces. India was quick to help, and soon the board was righted again. The game over, the countess stood up and walked slowly out onto the balcony, looking out over the landscape of Savarica spread out there.
While Aaron gave a few idle orders to one or two of the mighty huscarl guards that stood by, the shouts of the men in training again drifted up to the balcony, as the countess looked over the bright green and yellow fields spread out just outside her castle walls, and the unending forests, hills, and eventually silver-blue mountains beyond. She was quite a young lady to be already full countess and surpreme ruler over House Vadirska, but that mattered little when Vadirska land was far from needing any real hard governing, like many another house. Her dark, almost black hair came down to her waist, hanging free around her face and dark brow as she leaned on the rails. Her darkened blue dress was rich in color and detail, the usual attire for a higher noble of Savarica, embroidered with her family’s emblem and colors from belt to dress to the white sash she wore. Her blue-green eyes were sharp and warm, and a slight smile returned to both her face and her eyes as she surveyed the land she semi-ruled.
“A good day after the storm last night.” She murmured aloud, as her commander of forces, Aaron, strode up behind her, his hands clasped behind his back in soldierly style.
A tall, slim man, her huscarl commander was also fairly young, though still older than his liege lady by several years, his frank, light face having a few more lines than her’s did. Even now dressed in what he called his ‘usual attire,’ he had more armor on than the men down below on the grounds practicing at their sparring, his leather armor and fur breeches half hidden under a few steel plates and the longsword that hung at his side. A few wisps of golden hair strayed down on his forehead, occasionally into his frank blue eyes. A hardened veteran, Aaron had served his post In House Vadirska’s forces for almost ten years now, serving Countess India’s father, and then herself for several years, after his death.
“The farming lands will be glad of another storm, my lady.” He nodded coolly, “The season has been a dry one for people who are trying to raise grain crops.”
“Yes I know it, its still a fine day.” She returned, turning to look down over the balcony edge as the sounds of sparring practice grew louder.
The huscarl commander nodded again, respectfully. “Yes, my lady.” He saw her curiosity in the business below and strode over to look over with her, to see how his men were doing in their training.
“Perhaps they’re beating up that House Davardi messenger.” He suggested with a grim smile, as though he half hoped it was true. “Sounds like it.”
India laughed aloud at this one, raising a fine-lined brow. “Perhaps, maybe so…but I certainly hope not!”
The huscarl general chuckled, but his face had a grim look. “I almost wish they would, just for his arrogance. The man sounded like he could use a good beating.”
“Now, enough of that.” Her voice was a little more serious this time, “You know what would happen to Vadirska if we sent a messenger back to House Davardi beaten and dishonored? We don’t need any wars, commander, especially with that house.”
“House Davardi could use a little humbling.” Aaron replied, his serious temper rising. He scratched a little at his slight yellow beard with annoyance. “Mark my words, if that house is just allowed to trample over any she likes, there will be war. That whole house is full of power-hungry nobles who would just love an excuse to conquer any other ruling house of Savarica.”
The countess sighed. She didn’t reply.
Aaron’s sudden turn of anger quickly subsided, at least from his gentle-minded lady’s presence, and with a sigh of disgust he turned again to walk back into the room, about to leave. It was time he went to go and inspect the noonday field marshal plan, and make sure all was in order for that afternoon’s exhibition.
That was, until the door on the far end opened quickly, causing both countess and her commander to turn quickly to see who had come.
Instead of a house servant or messenger page entering, a well-dressed, older man entered between the two huscarls that guarded the door, smiling faintly as he came.
Aaron looked up and greeted him warmly. “Ah, Sesircas.” He smiled.
The older man nodded, his wispy gray hair bobbing slightly on his almost bald head. Dressed in a heavy fur robe, his older, wrinkled face poked out the top with a kind, though careful expression as he surveyed the two chess opponents. A large book of sorts was under his hand, some manner of a heavy tome tucked away and half hidden under the folds of robes. A set if piercing gray eyes met the countess in his sharp face as she returned from the balcony, her eyes questioning.
As she recognized her domestic counselor, she flashed a glad smile. “Ah, Sesircas!” She echoed, “Glad to see you!”
The old adviser chuckled as he dropped the book on the chess board, narrowly missing knocking the stone pieces everywhere, much to Aaron’s disgust. “And you, my lady.” He replied and bowed low, offering a hand to the huscarl general. He took it after a moment’s silence.
“I’m afraid I have a few matters that require your attention, countess.” The older man’s sharp face seemed to sympathize as India’s own countenance saddened slightly. For the past several years of her fairly young life, the Countess of House Vadirska and her ring of wise counselors had made good rulers, but her governing duties were not her most enjoyed pastime, not in the least.
The blue countess nodded as he took an un-offered seat quickly down on one of the cozy, fur covered chairs dotted around the stone room. She too strode quickly over to her usual unofficial throne in the room, a chair by the fireplace at the near end that was decorated with her family and house’s crest, and sat down seriously in it.
“Well, go on.”
“It’s firstly just a simple river water dispute, my lady, a point at which the competing fisherman that hunt on the river are fighting for space and game.” He shrugged. He had been at his job in service to the countess, and both of her parents before her, and in that long time he had become an excellent speaker to present his case. The man was a wise and just counselor, who was on the House’s side, India was sure…but it almost made her smile with amusement to see his friendly silver eyes almost glint with what could be cunning in his aged face.
She sighed outwardly. That had been a problem for weeks. “I thought we had already settled that.” She returned.
Huscarl Aaron still stood by the balcony, still relaxed and leaning against opening entry with his hands behind his back, a small smile of amusement on his face as he watched the burdened countess do what she disliked.
“We did, but I’m afraid we have a problem when the fish traders in Sephrac mostly move east to other lakes with better prices. The division of river water put more men on the water, fish are more plentiful now. Merchants prefer to go where they can get better prices.”
India raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“It means the fishermen on the river are not liking their tradesmen abandoning them, and are about to tear each other apart for more river water area for the competition of who can sell the cheapest fish.” He shrugged. “I was going to manage it myself, as you ordered, but I thought I would bring it to your attention again.”
“And you came here to burden your liege lady with things as that?!” Aaron spoke up suddenly, annoyed. He did know how much the countess relied on her small circle of advisers for ruling wisdom, and since she wasn’t fond of it, he disliked seeing the older counselor shouldering her with more worry than she needed. Especially over money squabbles.
Sesircas shook his head. “No, I only came to ask her if the orders should be revised or changed because of it…this definitely does add another edge into the business.” He slid his gaze over to the military commander. “But she’s still my lady and the lady of her lands. I have to bring before her what she needs to know, commander.”
Aaron sighed and shrugged. “In that case, my lady, I’ll go ahead and go down to prepare the afternoon marshaling. With your permission.”
She nodded to him and waved a hand of dismiss, turning back to the older adviser quickly as he went on to explain the problem more closely. Bowing respectfully, the huscarl general quickly turned and strode out the way Sesircas had come, the heavy wood doors clanging behind him.
“As long as the order is fair, Sesircas, I can’t change it.” The countess shrugged, shaking her head as her dark hair fell over her shoulders, “Prices or no. They will just have to go up or down.”
“Oh, I know that, my lady. We both do. But the fishermen on the river don’t, all along that half mile stretch.” He sighed, “I just felt I should ask before taking into hand personally. Any orders?”
“Only what you think best, my friend.” India replied, looking out across the room and out at the balcony, where the distant, blue mountains sprinkled with white could be seen. “You know I don’t manage those matters. I leave that to you, in more capable hands than my own.”
He thought for a moment and nodded, across from her and across the low table where the chess board and dusty book still sat. “Very well, my lady. I’ll do what I can to clear up the mess.” He stood up, slowly as if his age pained him, and pointed to the book.
“That’s a copy of the month’s records in the marketplace in Sephrac, and an account of the merchant guild’s councils there for the past two seasons.” He explained, “I brought it to you to look over before I put it in the library. As requested.”
She nodded gratefully, and picked up the book, fingering through it from her throne, where the red fire on the hearth glinted red off the chair. “Thank you.” She murmured.
As the older adviser turned to leave, he looked over his shoulder. “You do know the marshaling…”
“Yes, this afternoon at the eighth hour, on the front ground. I’m going there to watch it.” She interrupted, smiling faintly. “Thank you again, Sesircas.”
With a nod of assent, the old, red-dressed councilor to House Vadirska turned and strode out, the huscarl guards again shutting the door with a metal clang behind him. The countess, Lady of the House Vadirska, emblem and monarch over her part of the realm of Savarica, thumbed idly through the records of the city, humming as she did so. The songbird sang again outside the window.