[Continued from here]
There is a tale
they tell of the Enemy at Storm Pass, that great cleft through the High
Mountains. There is a tale of the first Mad Man, Constantine Genial Merinstone,
and his charge through the Storm Pass in the final days of the war. They tell
of the confusion that advanced ahead of Sir Constantine as he rode at the head
of the combined armies of the Crownlands, of the routing of the legions of the
Enemy, of the untimely death of Orton Turner, First Blessed. They tell of the
rewards earned by Sir Constantine after his victory, and of the establishment
of the line of Mad Men, Defenders of the Crownlands. They don’t often tell of
what came after. Consequences tend not to feature heavily in bardic tales of
heroism and sacrifice.
Long after Sir
Constantine had passed away, the line of Mad Men continued to grow. For many
years, new lineages were discovered, old ones died out, and the entitled grew
lazy and careless. The Enemy, whose name had once struck fear into so many,
became a tale for children – merely a bogeyman, or a name for anything restless
and faceless in the far west. Without it to give them purpose, the Mad Men fell
to those tasks assigned to any well-to-do gentleman or lady. Attending parties,
hunting, managing their lands (through their advisors), and, of course,
questing. Mad Men were cut from heroic cloth, so naturally they had to show it
from time to time. But there was never anything to quest for. All the hidden
treasures had been found, and the terrible monsters slain. Modern Mad Men
weren’t a match for that sort of complexity, anyway. These days, quests were
successful if they found a ruined house in the woods, or a piece of land they
hadn’t seen before. It was well know that, as a boy, Duke Tarrabon Dependible
Mirth had quested for a whole day, and returned with a pretty pebble. The
pebble was in a case in his study now, for those days when the great lord
wanted to reminisce.
Nereus had
remembered that pebble, and had relaxed. Quinton wouldn’t find anything on his
quest that an untrained advisor couldn’t deal with. He probably wouldn’t even
find lord Derryl. All Quinton needed was someone to stop him running into trees
or stabbing himself with his own knife. Someone who was used to unruly
children, and loyal to Quinton and his father. The household was full of people
who matched that description. All Nereus needed to do was choose.
[Part 5]
[Part 5]
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