The Duke's Bride

[Gamlen Amell]

Gamlen's face pales, then flushes. "You careless oaf! You craven knave! Blackhearted, misbegotten son of a drunkard and a gold-sniffing whore!"

[Hanza koshack]

"You poor excuse of a man! You give my daughter back before I teach you some manors!" I snapp

[Lance Roidmet]

But the air around Lance has stilled with preternatural calm. The man speaks in a low, deadly tone. 

"What. 


Did you say. 


About. 

My.


Mother."

[Gamlen Amell]

Harrod's eyes widen fractionally, then narrow with sudden suspicion. 

Gamlen, on the other hand, somehow doesn't notice any of the warning signs that Lance is clearly displaying. "You heard me, boy! Everyone knows damn well what your family got up to. Young women with no pedigree coming out of nowhere, getting a knighthood for 'services to king and kingdom' that no-one knows the nature of, and then snapping up herself a Duke's heir? Bah! Common blood has no business being on a throne.

Harrod sighs faintly, a resigned look settling on his face.

[Lance Roidmet]

Lance is off the horse in an instant, lunging forward and slamming Gamlen against the castle wall, his hand around his throat. "Duel," he snarls, seeming barely in control of himself. "Now."

A moment later, he forcibly yanks his hand off Gamlen's throat. 

[Judge Harrod Blacquin]

Which is a very good thing, as there are a half dozen men-at-arms surrounding him. Four with crossbows and two with morningstars, all of them moving with the surety and grace of someone who has fought against someone trying to kill them enough times that fear has become just another part of their gear instead of a poison. Just as importantly, the older man whom Lance vaguely recalls as being Gamlen's second is holding a runed shortsword whose blade is far too bright and pale to be anything but silver. Probably blessed as well, given the invisible aura of purity and judgment on it. 

"You will back away., Duke Roidmet. Right now, thank you." Harrod's voice is calm, even, almost bored, and a very noticable contrast to Gamlen's panicked wheezing as the other duke tries to scamper back and away from Lance.

[Hanza koshack]

It takes me a moment to get down from my wagon but I manage. Walking with a limp from age and ware my cain taping as I walk. "My friend here has called a dule will you meat his challenge or shall I teach each and every one of you a lesson in manners?!" I say in the same tone I use on small petulant children

[Lance Roidmet]

Lance takes a step back, still growling deep in his chest. 

[Gamlen Amell]

"Duel? Duel!? You attacked me!" Gamlen shrieks, still edging away, behind a group of the more standard looking men-at-arms. "I should have you killed on the spot! How dare you?"

[Hanza koshack]

"You are an honor less man." I spit "come my friend there is only madness here you will have better luck with the king and once you own Albany you can feed this drunken wretch to your dogs." I say calmly waving my stick at gamlin "yes as a lawyer I'd say you have every legal right to sue for the rights to his land and fortune for his refusal of the dule."

[Lance Roidmet]

"I wonder how legitimate his claim is to the Duchy?" grumbles Lance, eyeing the man. "Men like this, with no honor, usuallly cheat their way into power somehow."

[Hanza koshack]

"So long as either his sister or his nicest live he has no legal claim"

[Judge Harrod Blacquin]

"On the contrary, as the oldest male of his generation, Duke Gamlen has the superior claim to his crown," Harrod says coldly. "And if you wish to speak of claims and slights, it was you and yours that broke guest rights and kidnapped his bride-to-be. Some heated words, however foolishly spoken," his gaze shifts to Gamlen briefly, who pales at the weight of those steel grey eyes boring relentlessly into him, "spilling from the lips of one so wounded are nothing. Certainly in comparison to the blood you've drawn outside of duel or war."

"Blood?" Gamlen gawks, hand snapping up to his neck, where it comes away with a smear of blood. "Blood! I'm--" The closest guard manages to snap his halberd to the crook of his arm in time to catch Gamlen mid fall.

[Lance Roidmet]

"A mere scratch," scoffs Lance. "If he wishes to run to the king over so insignificant a thing, I wish him the better of it."

[Judge Harrod Blacquin]

"T'would not be the scratch that would be lead with," Harrod replies evenly. "You broke sacred guest rights and kidnapped a young lady under our care. Spin that however you wish, you have both offended the honor of this household and sinned against God Himself." He offers the rabbi a thin smile. "Which, as I understand it, rather reduces whatever," he coughs slightly, "blessings or miracles you might have been counting on, hmm? Particularly as your maid has not only confessed but given her parole, such as it is." That's not entirely accurate, of course. the agreement he and Tova had reached was a noble war captive's parole, but the main points-- not escaping or doing harm-- are the same. 

Clapping his hands lightly, he continues, voice smooth and measured, giving an air of reasonable compromise and civility. "But the King is a very busy man and war is a very, very costly thing. As such, it would be best if we found a way to settle this honorably, as gentleman, would it not?"