“It's not a matter of can I do it. Of course I can do it. The question is if I can be arsed to do it.”
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Goodwill, Bad Blood
The hawk wheeled high in the sky, its pinions tipping it left and right on the winds. And then it tilted forward and brought its wings close against its body, plummeting down towards the earth in a stoop. It streaked past the treetops and then seemed to strike the ground and swing upwards again. Something small squirmed in its talons, and with now lazy wing beats, the bird found its way to a high branch to enjoy its meal.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" the big man, broad across the shoulders, told his companions, a smile infused with admiration on his lips.
The woman riding beside him nodded absently. "Indeed, Sedgwin. Fascinating."
The other man, this one slight, dark, and with an eye patch, chuckled. "Fascinating is the word for it. That's the third falcon you've made us watch. You need to get out on the road more often, old man."
"It's a hawk, George," Sedgwin corrected mildly, and looked between the two of them. "My apologies if I'm boring you. I've been in Guilford for months."
"They don't have hawks there?" the woman smirked, stirring her horse forward again.
The two men followed along after. "It's not the same," was the big one's reply.
"I take it you're not as happy as Sedgwin to be out on the road, Dame Sophia?" George Aldcourt asked.
"With the frequency of trouble that crops up in Guilford, I don't like to leave milady's side for any length of time," the woman told the empty air in front of her. "Let alone leave and take Sedgwin along."
"Funny, I thought I was taking you along," the big man rumbled good-naturedly.
The smaller man looked from one knight to the other. "Well, it's certain that you're both taking me along, and I thank you for it. I need opportunities like this if my sister is ever going to trust me." A self-depreciating smirk. "Let alone allow me to stick around Guilford."
"With luck, the next time the errand will be more interesting than tracking down a wagon full of rocks," Sedgwin told him, this time with less good humor in his voice.
Aldcourt smiled wanly. "Don't let Milton hear you talk about his precious stone that way."
"We have a deal," the knight explained as his massive destrier came out of the shade of the trees and into open terrain. "I mock his masonry, he mocks my steel; more often than not, we're grateful for them both by the end of the day." He nodded up the road. "Here we are. This place has certainly seen better days."
The road climbed up the rocky landscape to the summit of a low hill, where perhaps forty buildings were huddled together. A handful of cook fire smoke trails rose up into the blue sky, and the sounds of livestock and cottage industry floated down the hill. But the outward buildings showed scars of conflict: the best of them curled around collapsed gables and boarded windows. A handful were nothing more than burnt-out husks. As the trio in raven livery rode closer, they could see, splayed out on the ground in a ring around the town, the scorched and battered remains of stockade walls.
They were met at what had once been a gate by a handful of hard-eyed townsfolk. The man in the lead spread his empty hands and stepped forward. "We heard what you did at Guilford," he shouted at them. "I'm afraid we won't be giving you the satisfaction of trying to kill you. I suppose you'll have to find some other reason to slaughter us all."
They slowed their horses to a stop. Sedgwin scowled down at the speaker. "We're here on the business of the Baroness Bramwood. We mean no malice to the people of this town."
"Well then, since I trust you implicitly," the man scowled back, "Welcome to Rudwell."
