All's Fair -- Part IIIc
You try to reassure Cadmon of the bookworm's unimportant status. "He isn't a knight! He's here to write about your brave deeds! Bards will sing of us, but first they'll have to hear of us. That's what Gervaise is for! Now give the boy some cider!"
A burst of agreement ripples around the group, and Cadmon's friend Brond slaps his back, "Just a scribbler of our deeds, Cade!"
Cadmon looks as if the thought of Gervaise in the same loose confraternity as him is unacceptable on any level, and he's struggling to mount another solid objection; but the drink has gone to his head, and his brows knit together in frustration without result. His fists clench. Hammy shoots you a concerned glance, and you proceed gently with the big drunk lad. "While he may not be a warrior, he will surely sing your praises, good Cadmon... Especially if you quit hogging the cider!"
"Aye!" Hammy jumps up and swipes the leather skin from Cadmon, taking a long draw. "Cider-hogger! I'd rather find a worm in a book than at the bottom of a cider jug, Cade! But by the holy mass, you're right. We have standards here." He puts the skin under his arm. "No one enters this blessed order without a baptism. Hoy, Gervaise, here's a bath for 'ee!" He squeezes the skin and squirts cider in the boy's bewildered face. The others roar with mirth.
Even Cadmon forgets what he was about and collapses in tears and belly-laughter. Once there, Cadmon discovers other benefits of lying prone and is soon snoring. Still, as Hammy and Rick are milking amusement from the crowd by exhorting Gervaise to open his mouth for another shot, you have misgivings for the future of a group that contains both the bully and the pariah.
At length, Gervaise is cajoled into a few swigs and loosens up, joining the merriment with jokes a bit too pendantic and dry for the normal consumption of eight year-olds, but his amusingly high-pitched voice is alone enough to carry off a round of chuckles among a pack of drunk boys. "So the king asked Alcuin while they sat and drank together, for his majesty oft took delectation in philosophical discourse whiles in the bibulous state, 'What separates a fool from a wise man,' and the excellent monk looked down and replied, 'A table!' Oh, what a scintillating wit was that!"
Dusk is falling, and you consider whether there is anything else you wish to say or to do here, before walking with exaggerated sobriety back to the Keep for the evening.
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Topic: Heirship: A Suggestion Game (Read 29386 times)