As I return to Caer Ebrauc, I am surprised that the old city has a festive air, not the dark one I was expecting. As the gate guards spot my banner, they roar their greetings. I look at Fulvius to my right; he seems to be equally as puzzled. I turn to my left to another of my guards, Aella; he merely shrugs. All are confused: Archanad, Elidir, Cynfarch, Caedrieith, Lawr, the brothers Meriadoc and Cadgor, and the rest of them. None of us know what is going on.
We ride into the city at the behest of the guards, and towards the old palace, where I am greeted by my mother and surviving younger siblings.
My mother and Rhyddarch embrace me while Mor smiles. It is a truly peculiar expression, with mixes of both happiness, sadness, and mischief rolled into it.
"Brother," he begins, "while these are indeed tragic and trying times, it would seem that their are reminders of joy that beg to be noticed. Our people are finally finding some success in fighting off the pagan pirates, our allies find themselves in less destress. You have humbled Deva Victrix and even now my own host prepares to strike into Strath Clyde to avenge our brother. As this new year begins, so too does new life: we must not forget that our father and brother have both recently had children. And so, in continuance with this theme and since our mourning must be over-"
"But I -"
"No buts. Neither of them would want us to remain in this gloom we were so recently in." Mor pauses, and Cynfyn reveals himself.
"We have a surprise for you little brother."
He steps to the side, and out of the shadows walks a beautiful girl wearing a crown of flowers. "A woman could perhaps keep you with us, rather than returning to that dark place you went."
I do not know what to make of this. They were right, this is certainly a surprise for me. Aella, the stoic Aengle (I will elaborate on an Aengle being in my bodyguard later), stands unmoved, while Fulvius and most of the others gape open-mouthed. The entire crowd, soldiers, commoners, nobles and my family, waits for my raction, but I do not know how to react. I am in shock.
The girl's forhead wrinkles momentarily in consternation. She hesitates takes a step in my direction, then strides boldly toward me.
Those eyes. I know those wild eyes. I walk toward her, and she whispers in my ear: "Now will I give you a proper wrestling." I toss my head back and laugh, the first lighthearted laugh I've had in almost half a year. "I will accept the marriage! My brothers, my family, thank you."
The crowd that has gathered cheers uproariously; Meriadoc leads the rest of my bodyguard in some ridiculous chant; Mor and Cynfyn smile at each other knowingly as co-consipirators.
The Picti diplomats heaving sighs of relief do not escape my notice.
In the end the wedding is a grand affair, and succeeds in blighting out some of the terrible events of the past. My family and friends are around me as I wed Braith, the still slightly-untaimed princess of Pictavia, grown now.
There are great tables laid out with food and the drink flows freely. If the gaiety in the air is slightly forced and strained, well, no-one I know will complain of it. Not after the tragedies we have suffered.
But enough of that! I wander through the tables, accepting congratulations, talking with any who desire to. I will laugh with merchants and farmers, my faithful soldiers, the Pictavi. They stand off to the side; most people seem to avoid them. In truth we do not know a whole lot about our northern allies, but I think that will change soon. Especially after this marriage. Regardless, I do see my brothers and several other men talking with them throughout the night, including my friend Elidir of Dunuting. Of course, as the night goes on, tongues are loosened by the festivities and inhibitions lessened, so our friends the Picts are not lonely for long.
What happened on my wedding night is not for you to know, but this change in my life ushered in a great new happiness for me.
Braith has changed greatly since I last saw her years ago in the north. She controls her wild, side. Sometimes. Still, I enjoy her company greatly, and she is very intelligent. Surprisingly so actually. I do not mind that much of my time is stolen by her. In fact I often find myself going to seek her out, to ride with her or lay with her or for her advice, and she has become fast friends with Gwen and my family. Except for Atia, Gwrast's widow, who is cold towards her. It cannot be helped, perhaps, but I do hope that she will come around.
Fulvius, that wicked oaf, has mocked me relentlessly of course. "Ever since you first saw each other," he will gleefully sing, "It was love at first bout," and other such horse-
spews constantly from his mouth. It is almost humorous. But not quite.
Why am I so long in the capital, and why am I not in the recently conquered Deva Victrix you may ask. The answer is that I am raising more forces, including cavalry. Long have I argued that proper use of cavalry would have a devastating effect since Mor halted its developement. He claims that it is too expensive, but I disagree. When he reads of Alexandros he sees forests of pikes and the bronze-clad hoplites. I see this too, but with horses on the wings, trampling enemies to oblivion. In any case, he has allowed me to raise some few squadrons of cavalry beyond our navive skirmishers to which he affectionately refers to as "jav-cav."
The kingdom of Ebrauc has seen profound military reforms with every generation. Coel, the last dux, raised his own professional infantry force to defend our lands, with elite cores based on our strongolds and lesser soldiers throughout the countryside, supported by militia and levies. Cuenu incorporated that military stratagem of the raiders who so often plague our shores: the shieldwall. Now I intend to broaden our horizons with cavalry. Indeed, much of my summer is spent training such men, but in truth I am being trained as well. We have no great leaders of cavalry. Pick any of my men and he can show you some marvelous feats of horsemanship, but not how to ride as a unit of heavy cavalry. As such I must rely on advace from grizzled old veterans and my gut to judge the strenghs and weaknesses of my horsemen as I watch them maneuver. And so it is that in the early summer of the yaer 456 bid my family , including my now pregnant wife, goodbye, as I take some of these untested men on a patrol of our southern border, while my brothers return to the north: Mor to finish mustering his army and march on Strath Clyde, and Cynfyn to Pictavia to finish the details of our treaty.
When we leave, my men are quite excited. They even hunger for battle, for the chance to prove themselves and demonstrate that our endless hours of practicing and drilling have paid off. Time will tell.
Re: The Tin Isles [IB2 Conqvuestvs Britanniae]
Reply With Quote
)
It seems Ebrauc's rulers are being decimated by their enemies. Perhaps, with Mor newly crowned, the Kingdom of Ebrauc will teach its enemies how costful is it to shed a King's blood? 
here is a map of the times, with some labeled regions. Some are historically accurate-ish, and I may begin using them as references for events that happen to other factions
Originally Posted by waveman
