Summons Too

Summons Too
Summary: Sir Jaren Cassomir receives a summons from Prince Samwell Taniford…this seems familiar, doesn't it?
Date: 29/10/2013
Related: Summons and Preparations For A Journey
Samwell Jaren 

Samwell's study in the Royal Palace of Taniford

Samwell sent a summons to Sir Jaren asking him to see him at the castle.

Not being one to tarry when a Prince sends him summons, Jaren gathers his things, mounts up, and rides out virtually minutes after having received the summons. Besides, it may be good to get out of Laketown for the better part of a day or two. So several hours after the missive is sent out, Sir Jaren arrives at the castle, showing it to the guardsmen at the gates of the castle after having had his horse stabled for the time being. After being escorted inside, he knocks on the door to the room in which the Prince awaits, standing with that usual stillness he maintains.

Prince Samwell is in his own quarters, which basically means a comfy solar where a fire is crackling in the fire place and a small table is set with refreshments. A servant opens the door to let Jaren in, then departs to leave the two alone. Sam is standing by the window, turning around to receive his guest with a smile. "Sir Jaren, how kind of you to come so swiftly. Please sit down, have some wine.", he offers, pointing at the table where the wine is waiting along with some snacks.

"Of course, Your Highness. How may I be of service?" Jaren queries, bowing from the waist, then moving over to accept the goblet of wine that is offered, taking a sip, and smiling just a touch at the excellent vintage. He then pulls out the chair, seating himself promptly, but his attention remains focused on the Prince.

Sam sits down as well, wasting no time with chit chat. "I have spoken to my mother, my Queen, about what happened at Fort Brenton and I have received permission to return and evict Sir Robard Dalyan and his men.", he explains, "My mother has written to Lord Losthren, since it is his jurisdiction, strictly speking, but we foresee no problems there. You have been of good service to me, Sir Jaren, and I hope you would be willing to join me once more."

"Of course. It would be my honor." Jaren inclines his head, taking another sip of his wine. "I had some small suspicion that may be the matter you wished to meet on. I do not now how useful they will be, rough as they are, but…" He reaches to a small case hanging from his belt and pulls out a couple sheets of parchment, "I made these sketch-maps of the interior of the fort during our visit. Some of it is guesswork as to what lays beyond certain doors that were barred to us, but after the feast the fort's defenders were rather lax in allowing us to wander a bit." He lays the two sheets on the table. He's no artist, but the fort's layout isn't exactly that complex. "If you feel it necessary…there are some seasoned and reliable armsmen I could call upon to join us. Some twenty men, all told….mostly men-at-arms, but a handful of light cavalry and archers to go along with."

"Excellent!", Samwell smiles when he sees the maps, "I have tried to memorize everything, but this will serve us so much better." He studies the maps for a moment, then nods. "Please keep them safe, Sir Jaren, we will need them. My plan is to take only a small force, consisting mostly of the people who went with us the first time and a few more.", he starts explaining his plan, "So bring a few of your very best fighters along. We will enter Fort Brenton as guests again, pretending to bring gifts from my mother to Sir Robard as a token of gratitude for his former hospitality. Once we are inside… we will take care of him and his men." He pauses a bit to let that sink in, then adds: "We will camp out in the mountains, so we must bring our own supplies. We cannot impose on the villagers who can barely feed themselves. Another reason for keeping our numbers low."

"All right. Just a few then." Jaren confirms, considering the plan a few moments, "If there were some way we could insure they received a significant quantity of liquor shortly before our arrival without placing undue risk on the lives of those delivering it…." He shakes his head, "But no such method comes to mind immediately. In any case, a bit of subterfuge is vastly preferable to a siege."

"I agree.", Samwell smiles, "I hope to solve this with as little bloodshed as possible. And we could perhaps bring some strong wine along for them, then wait with our attack until the dead of the night when they are drunk or asleep." He pauses for a while, to devour some sweet pastry, wash it down with wine and obviously ponder something. "Sir Jaren, may I ask you for a favour?", he finally asks.

Jaren nods, carefully rolling up the maps and tucking them back into the case, "I will see that a few copies are discreetly made of these that we may distribute them amongst our leadership contingent." He nods at the mention of drunkening them up, "It seemed to work well enough last time."

At the latter, Jaren cocks his head curiously at Samwell, but nods in the same motion, "Of course, your highness."

"Sir Gauvain is an excellent warrior and a good man to have by our side.", Samwell begins carefully, "But while I appreciate his … fervour, I sometimes worry that he might do something rash where caution would be more advisable.", he explains diplomatically, "I would appreciate if you helped me keep an eye on him when we return to Fort Brenton."

Jaren smiles just a touch, "Your assessment is not far off the mark. He is a man of strong convictions, but while he does indeed have a fire in his heart, he has thus far kept it in check when required. I will of course make certain that he does not tip our hand too soon." He adds, "Perhaps giving him some small reassurance that Sir Robard will be his to deal with, provided that circumstance make such an arrangement feasible, would help him quell his fury in the meantime."

"Possibly, yes.", Samwell warns, "However, it may yet happen that Lord Losthren wishes to deal with Dalyan himself - or my mother. So, as you say, we'll have to see what circumstances are." He smiles slightly, changing the subject. "How are you, Sir Jaren, have you recovered from your fearful ordeal?"

Jaren blinks once, then his cheeks turn just a tiny hint red, "Ah yes…I believe Lady Claire spoke to you of the matter?" He clears his throat, "I am…well enough. Disheartened that I was so easily ensnared, and suffering from considerable embarrassment from an…ah…aftereffect, but the Mother Superior of the Laketown Temple has some experience with these matters and assures me there should be no lasting harm."

Samwell smiles, trying not to chuckle at the hint of a blush, "It happens, Sir Jaren. I'm glad to see no lasting harm was done and you're in fine fettle…" He falls silent then, trying to think if there's more to say or not.

"Fine fettle may be an understatement, Highness." Jaren all-but-mutters, then shakes his head slightly, "In any case, it will not be an impediment to taking up arms and maintaining the Queen's Law."

"I'm glad to hear that.", Samwell replies, his diplomacy skills making sure he'S looking earnest again until his brief merriment has indeed died down. "I am glad you will come along with us again. Get your men ready, assemble some provisions and I will send word when we are ready to ride."

"As you will, Highness." Jaren re-affirms, finishing off his goblet of wine and rising to his feet, "Is there anything else you require of me before I depart?" He queries, folding his hands behind his back.

"Not really, I think.", Samwell muses, then grins. "I'll send word, if there is. Just make sure you are well-prepared and have enough supplies for some days. We will leave at rather short notice." He accompanies the other man to the door to see him out.

"I will await your message then." Jaren bows from the waist once more, then turns and steps out the door, already calculating the provisions he'll need to acquire for the trip.

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