Ch. 1 - New Blood

Kai

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On a fine spring day when I was mostly concerned about being excited that another pretty cousin would be visiting Highgarden, Father was in a foul mood. He had been getting messages by raven that made him more and more grumpy, and Tyrys wasn't helping matters, mostly just removing himself to go play soldier in the courtyard. It was really irritating, because I don't like to have to worry about castle affairs. Well, other than my own. But with newcomers to Highgarden on the way, and I wanted to make sure that we presented a good front, and my glowering father and sweaty brother might let me down, so I had to interfere.

Tyrys was busy damn near murdering our master at arms when I went to talk to him. Where I am a little more lithe and slender, Tyrys looks like he should be charging into battle on a giant stallion, but most of us are of the mind that he needs an heir before he goes off to find a war to kill himself in. He had a wife, a pretty Baratheon girl, who died, as he likes to say, “murdering his son” in childbirth. We have bad luck, my brother and I, when it comes to women. I've been engaged three times, and none of them lived long enough to be my bride. It's not quite as important for me as it is for Tyrys though, and I've no doubt that much of my near future will be filled with trying to make sure he has a bride that won't break this time. But I digress. Tyrys reluctantly came away from his fight to tell me that it was none of my business to know what Father was so upset about. Thinking that was no way to have a brotherly conversation, I tugged him aside a bit more and to express concern over the stress everyone was feeling. Perhaps, I said, I could lessen his burden by offering him a night to relax and forget his worries. A night, specifically, with Ilsa, a girl I had planned to see that evening, but who I've noticed is rather partial to my brother too. I'd be more than happy, I said, to give up my evening, if he would tell me what was going on. It was probably Ilsa's ample charms more than mine that worked on him, but he lowered his voice and told me that word was coming in that Silver Hill was exhausted. A serious source of income for us, drying up fast. Now I could see why the mood of the castle was so dark.

Nevertheless, I endeavored to help hide the bad moods when we greeted Cousin Ravenka in the afternoon. I stood next to my other lovely cousin Florie, who had her fair hair decorated with ribbons for the occasion, and the neck of her gown dipping low enough to draw a man's eye. This man in particular. I dragged my gaze up in time to see our steward, my Auntie Odette, bustling forward to meet the arriving party with cakes and drinks. And then Ravenka came forward, a lovely little vision in exotic brocades, and I decided I would be her personal tour guide as much as I could get away with.

At the feast in her honor that night, she surprised everyone with some charming provincial manners and forwardness. They must do things very differently in the Free Cities, and despite some hissed directions from Florie, she insisted on serving Father wine. Adorable.

But then she was talking about the things that she had seen on her journey from King's landing, and one of those things was the toll they were exacting at Bitter Bridge. That got everyone's attention, though she told it so simply and sweetly that she couldn't have known just how unusual it was. She only remarked that the merchants she had traveled with had been deeply irritated by it. I saw Father going calculating, and he motioned Odette to him. I heard a muttered conversation about inviting (compelling, rather) Lord Caswell of Bitter Bridge and Lord Redwyne to come to our upcoming harvest festival. Odette bustled off to get letters written, and conversation turned more mundane. I was just inviting both of my cousins on a walk through the gardens afterwards when she came back and invited herself. By the Seven, you'd think that woman had an extra sense that informs her when I'm going to go off with girls. I mean, to be fair, she knows my habits. To be fairer, she's seen me watching Florie. But it's not as if I'm not discreet.

We walked, and eventually, when it became painfully obvious that Odette would not even let me charm either of the girls a little bit, the conversation turned towards the developing trouble at Silver Hill and Bitter Bridge. That Ravenka is a quick study, and listens well. She picked up on both issues right away, and we all wondered if it might be best to try and help to direct Father's attention. We could wait for the festival, not long off, to learn more about Caswell's alarming toll, but someone would have to go directly to Silver Hill to make see if, as had happened two generations before, the caretakers of Silver Hill were claiming a dry mine and taking the silver for themselves. We elected Odette, who has an efficient, polite way of making my father do what she wants, to go talk to him. That left me in the hall to flirt with the girls, which I think is a damned fine place to be.

Rula

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Never pays to try and hobnob with nobles, I used to think, but the chit of a girl sitting in the stables with us hardly looked like a noble and hardly invited any fancy treatment. And besides, she was kin of the same bloodline. Azeline Ivy and her big ol' dog looked as if they'd be most at home roaming the woods like something out of a ballad, and from what I gathered, that's what she preferred to do, though her mum and dad didn't take so kindly to the thought. I didn't see what's got them so excitable, since she seems like a fine girl to me, but my mum made sure I spent my early years training as an assassin and the rest of them learning to fight, so I may not be the best judge of what's proper an' all. I'm a woman, but certainly not a lady.

My brother was sitting beside me, pretending not to know me while I told one of my filthy stories to our companions. Quaynlis, our fourth, had started it. Or maybe I'd started it. Anyway, we'd been exchanging back and forth a while, and Azeline was giggling and kept gasping at the impropriety of it all, but I figure a girl has to learn it all somewhere. A page interrupted us and said we had been asked inside to the kitchens. Slaange and I exchanged a glance, wondering at the long list of things we might be in trouble for. Still, the kitchen had fresh bread and more Meadowlark cider, so we all went along with it and trooped in to the kitchens.

Castle steward Odette Gardener stood in front of us, her matronly brow knit with some emotion I couldn't fathom. Like she was interested in us but afraid we might wee on the carpets like untrained puppies. She said that we were needed, as members of the extended family, to go on an exploratory trip to Silver Hill to investigate the mine there. Azeline's jaw about hit the floor when Odette said that she would be leading the party as a noble representative of Highgarden. I thought maybe it was some kind of joke for a moment, until Odette explained that they wanted someone who wasn't well-known as a member of court and who didn't look the part. None of us took badly to the idea either. I don't think any among us is much of a leader, or rather I doubt the rest of us want to be the one standing in front when one of the nobs gets flighty or upset. Better let 'em take care of their own and let the rest of us say we was just doing what we was told, thankyouverramuch.

We set off next morning for Silver Hill, and I realized I'm not much of a hand at riding 'cross the country, and neither is my horse so used to it, either. We've been city folk too long, I suppose. Azeline though looked as if she was born to it. She made our camp as if it was the easiest thing in the world, and there was even a rain shelter for whoever was standing guard. Our second night out, I was on guard and I heard a noise. I looked up into a pair of eyes glittering in the light of my little fire, and realized I had a bear in front of me, and it was about to attack. A sensible girl would have run the other direction, but I'm not a sensible girl, so I yelled for the others, drew out my steel, and stuck it in near the beast's neck. I hurt it, but it gave me a right mean whack along my side. By that time, though, the others were roused, and Quaynlis came roaring out of the tent with his big (mace? Cudgel? Wtf is that thing again?) and hit the bear across the back. It stumbled and I got some distance, and Azeline had nocked an arrow to her bow then and shot it between the eyes. The bear crumpled, and without so much as a blink, Azeline skinned it where it lay. Handy girl, her.