#tspsoffk

Just a doodle of Baldwin, Lucy (Aere Perennius), and Celia (They Say Partridges Sing Only For Forgotten Kings)

They Say Partridges Sing Only For Forgotten Kings

Chapter Four: Only Owls Keep a Ledger of the Night

Lessons in Tyre: how to rule, how to negotiate, how to shave your head after a failed infiltration.

Lessons in Acre: how to grind mustard, how to manage cats, how to hold a grudge.

Baldwin and Cecilia are learning fast, just not the same things.

There was something about Tyre that made even a prince feel small. The journey had been a wet one now that winter had deepened its hold on the Levant. Their retinue left a week after Baldwin’s father had set out for Nablus, with William keeping his constant watch on his ward. Najm had been eager to stretch his legs on this trip; an eagerness that Baldwin well shared, even as the rain came and went in grey curtains across the hills. From Acre, they’d skirted the River Belus, and the Samariyeh hills had rolled beneath their horses without care or concern. They spent an hour crossing through a rivulet near Achzib (now higher than it ought to have been), where Baldwin watched a family of ducks try to peck at them as they passed. These birds usually migrated south to the Levant come Autumn, drawn to those temperate coastal waters where winter rains turn marshes into lush feed, and this year’s rains had been particularly generous. Baldwin considered going in for a closer look only to find that one duckling in particular seemed intent on making itself a problem. He couldn’t stay long to observe though, Abul’Khair had urged them all onward despite Baldwin’s great fascination. It was imperative to reach the city before the sun would set, with the rain already arriving ahead of schedule and running cold beneath their cloaks.

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They Say Partridges Sing Only For Forgotten Kings

Chapter Three: If Secrets Could Bribe a Sandgrous

In which the physicians rule out leprosy (provisionally), a baby sister arrives uninvited, and Cecilia purchases a viper for reasons nobody bothers to explain to her.

Cecilia watched the ships floating along the Lordemer, their sails catching the Mediterranean sun like vast parchment squares. This filthy sea, referred to as the immundum by some Poulains, made no secret of where its unpleasant nickname had come from: it reeked of shit and sewage that trickled down from the waste ducts; the colors swirling between gray-green and an almost brown. Cecilia always had to pinch her nose as she made the trek up here, even then it wasn’t enough to keep the rank stench out of her lungs. Some nights, she would have nightmares about falling into these murky waters; and in those dreams the sea would swallow her whole as she gagged on putrescence. Baldwin would never come out here, she was quite certain of that. She imagined his red face twisting into a disgusted expression at the sight of the pier, his dainty little princely nose wrinkling and scrunching up towards his furry eyebrows, the pale blonde hairs on his arm rising to fend off the foul odor. Denis had told her that no royal ever set foot in these parts unless they absolutely had to, and even still they’d have an entire legion of knights to shoo the beggars away. But here, at least on this side of Acre, where ships moored with sailors who spoke more languages than Cecilia could name, a child could blend into crowds without being noticed. This made it a fine enough place for people like her to escape to. The fortress had been most cloying since Baldwin’s accident. The poor lad had to be sequestered to his chambers while priests and physicians were summoned to tend to him. They brought with them their herbs and their scriptures and ate up much of what Denis’s larder had to offer. She wasn’t sure how long they would be staying for, nor how long the prince had to endure all this. But she did know that with their arrival came the rumors. And while Cecilia tried to avoid the gossip, it had spread across the fortress like a bad weed.

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