Days of the Dead Book 2: The Beggar's Tomb

Chapter 3: Everything is still fine! Don't contradict me!

Gideon
We have breakfast in one of the private sitting rooms, well it's more of a private dining room as it has a full table, but it's not public to court. It's just the royal family and guests, which means that the kids get to eat with their parents. As a rule the royals try to have breakfast with the children before their lessons, however sometimes the children will take breakfast privately as the grown ups have to already be up and getting to work.
'We' is just our usual inner circle, and any family guests we might have in tow, for example Oisin who didn't want to be invited and got informed he was coming anyway. I can't make sarcastic comments to Dancer if he hits me or wanders away and I need someone to appreciate my wit.
Oisin has beaten me here, and is deep in argument with Dancer about something, I'm just guessing food. Elis is already here as well, though he looks to have just arrived because he's becoming involved in Dancer and Oisin's argument.
Sadie and Rhiannon trail behind me, Sadie carrying Myrddin on one hip as he gazes around happily, fist in his mouth. Don't. I don't know. It's painful to me too. The good thing is most babies do that. The bad thing is we have no reason to believe he'll stop. My fist is also in my mouth right now.
"How do I look?" Rhiannon asks Sadie, as she adjusts her necklace a little on her pale neck.
"Pregnant," Sadie says, which gets her hit. I laugh a little but bite on my fist.
"Shut up, Gideon. He said that," Rhiannon says.
"You do. You've got the cute, glow thing going, your cheeks are all rosy, you look round, it's cute," Sadie says. Rhiannon smacks her back again, fondly. Sadie laughs.
"Great you two," Rhiannon mutters, shaking her head, as we walk in to sit around the table. Well. Oisin and I are going to stand and hover probably. Get more food that way. The servants just lay out things at a bar and we help ourselves, makes it easier.
"Hello, how's my prince?" Elis asks, holding out his arms for Myrddin who eagerly holds out his arms. The little boy is now dressed in a nicer white dress with gold trim and little stars embroidered on it. He's very spoiled and we know it.
"He should be hungry he hasn't eaten for a few hours," Rhiannon says, taking a plate of food I just made up for her. Yes using magic. It's easier to stim with my hands that way.
"All right, see if you feel like scones eh?" Elis asks, balancing Myrddin on his lap as he sits back down. To be clear, it's fairly common for babies to get solid foods by sitting in their parents' laps, and getting tidbits. Even in the Iliad Hector is described as doing this with his son. Easy way to feed a baby soft things and you keep the baby occupied. Why is Elis personally doing this? Well, we started the cofeeding thing a while ago, and Rhiannon or I, or Sadie, or whoever, would hold little Myrddin and we'd let him gum some food while we ate. And we found out after like two bites he'd start sobbing uncontrollably and quit eating. We were very worried. Then we put together a pattern that he didn't do it when Elis fed him, just anyone else. And then we figured out that every time Myrddin takes food in his baby fists, and smears it on his face and self, Elis wipes his face off and his hands immediately, and dabs anything off his clothes. The rest of us were just letting the baby get messy cause he was just gonna get a bath later who cared? Apparently the baby.
Yes, Elis has yet to let us live down and it's completely hilarious this one year old baby is the only other person who cares as much about clothes as Elis does. Elis delights in getting him the finest little outfits which my offspring does his utmost not to mess up. I caught him using magic to try to tug mud off his shirt once. Anyway, no way anyone can say that isn't Elis' kid. And Elis takes great enjoyment at being the selected baby-feeder.
"Morning, morning," Lowri bolts in followed by her cousin, Jac, the Duke of Conwy's ward who is here with his mum for the holiday. They're a couple years apart but she's thrilled to have a friend about.
"Morning, you look very nice, how much did Dancer pay you to stay this neat?" Rhiannon asks, catching Lowri and fixing her hair.
"Nothing, he threatened," she smiles charmingly.
"Dancer is it true you threatened my daughter?" Elis asks.
"Most definitely," Dancer says, without looking up.
"Excellent work," Elis says.
"Very funny," Lowri says, sitting down at the table.
"Uncle, can we go out on the ramparts later?" Jac asks, hopefully sitting down as well.
"If a responsible adult goes with you. Your father is not a responsible adult," Elis says, as he very carefully wipes cream off Myrddin's face. The baby grins up at him happy to be understood.
As if to prove his point, the Duke of Conwy walks in, dressed all in black as usual, wincing at the sunlight and skirting away from it. I raise a hand, using magic to draw the blinds.
"Thank you, Gid," he says, clapping me on the back.
"Father, will you come with us out to the ramparts?" Jac asks.
"Not in the sunlight," the Duke grunts.
"What did I just say?" Elis mutters.
"Morning all," Gareth says, coming in as the Duke goes back and drags him by one sleeve. "I'm here under duress. Not that you're not all really charming—wait are those blueberry scones?"
"No, it's like, seeds, you wouldn't like them," I say, as I put two in my mouth.
"Cheek," Gareth comes over to maul me generally. I accept happily because I love cuddles and I almost get enough but not quite. I'll never say no to a good cuddle.
"So we can go up after dark then?" Jac asks, hopefully.
"Aye, I don't see why not. A mostly useless person can also show you some archery if I can keep track of him till then," the Duke says, generously.
"Wow, I'm here as your emotional support person because the Duchess is coming," Gareth says, not offended, still hugging me.
"What? No, she's not allowed," Elis says.
"You said to her you'd see her in the morning," the Duke says.
"No, this is a safe space—Jac when did you last see the Duchess?" Elis addresses his brother. They are talking about their mother in case it wasn't obvious. She's in all technicality the Dowager Queen and Dowager Duchess of Conway. But all her sons ever refer to her as is the Duchess.
"In the hall a while ago. She said she was going to breakfast and I said 'aye so am I' and then I kept walking. She walks rather slow I didn't care to wait also I still had to fetch that one," the Duke says, nodding at Gareth.
"Oh, really, I can't take her at this time of the morning," Elis sighs, delicately brushing crumbs off Myrddin's little outfit.
"Well, maybe she won't come," Rhiannon says.
The door opens and the Duchess steps in. Imagine someone as cruel as the Duke of Conwy, but as pleasant looking as Elis, and you've pretty much got it. Her now grey hair is done up neatly on her head, and she's wearing a dark blue, loose, dress. I realize she's never actually appeared on page till now and that's because strictly I don't have a lot to do with her, and that's because her sons don't have a lot to do with her. The Duke of Conwy is the product of her first marriage, and Elis of her second. She likes them both very little for different reasons, but that's nothing compared to how little she likes Gareth. He's not only the product of her second husband's life long affair, but that affair did not end, so far as I'm aware, once they were married. Court women will handle their husbands infidelity all manner of ways, and their bastards. In political marriages it is to be expected, but I think the primary cause of irritation here is that little was done to hide it. Gareth's parentage is little mystery when he's the spitting image of his father the late King, and both of her sons are decidedly attached to him.
"What is he doing here?" She asks, stopping.
Gareth and Oisin and I bow then kind of look at each other like we don't know she means Gareth.
"I brought him. As my guest. When I passed you, I said, 'I'm fetching a guest for breakfast', and then I left, you will recall," the Duke of Conwy says, lightly.
"Yes. I was assuming it was your wife, or a mistress, or someone acceptable like that," the Duchess says, resignedly like wondering why she thought her children would improve as people.
"Good morning, mother, come in, both my brothers stay, you really don't have to dine with us the baby takes forever," Elis says, tightly. Myrddin frowns with concern, sensing the change, and sort of pats Elis' leg.
"Good Morning," Rhiannon says, glancing at the kids who have quit bickering, "I was going to attend Lowri's Latin lesson this morning would you like to come?"
"Yes if she wouldn't mind the company," the Duchess says, politely, taking a seat at the table, "Jac, are you taking lessons with your cousin?"
"Yes, lady grandmother," the boy says, quickly. It's no secret he's adopted, or a ward rather, of the Conwy's but at least his grandmother treats him as a grandchild. She didn't, like, at first but then I think it dawned on her this was as close as she was going to get out of her eldest, who associates with people as little as possible, that's including his own wife. Speaking of.
"And where is your mother this morning?" The Duchess asks him, not like nicely but definitely like she thinks her son might have killed his wife.
"I wouldn't know," the Duke says, pausing from chatting to Gareth about weapons. Oisin is becoming slightly involved in that conversation. I would but I'm making sure neither of the magical children use magic at the table and if they do we can blame it on me.
"I know. I wasn't asking you I was asking the responsible person—Jac," she says. The boy is named after his adopted father. That's only slightly confusing, most of us call him J to distinguish.
"She said she was taking breakfast privately, as dinners with us were enough," the boy says, quickly.
"Smart woman."
"You really don't have to stay I'm sure you're busy," Elis says, feeding the baby and not really looking at his mother.
"I'm here to visit you, both. And the children," she reminds him, primly, not even surprised, as she watches Elis gently wipe crumbs from his prince's mouth. See, she's well aware her son is infertile she knows those aren't kids. She doesn't know how we acquired either of them. I think she kind of wants to know, but she respects Rhiannon not revealing the father/s. I mean I'm sure she suspects someone in this room, and the practical candidate would be one of Elis' brothers, but the likely candidate age wise would be Dancer considering he's dark haired and fair ergo he looks enough like the two kids. Naturally Lowri isn't related to any of us, but she doesn't know that. The duchess is generally curious and I don't fully blame her, but it's increasingly funny because Myrddin acts a lot like Elis and she's just sitting here figuring out how he acquired this neat little baby when we know he had nothing to do with that.
"Lady Grandmother, mother and I were going into the village tomorrow to visit some of the families of our staff, would you like to join us? We're bringing Christmas baskets," Lowri says, politely. She's doing well. Sadie and I exchange a glance. We're both watching because Lowri has a short temper and it wouldn't be the first time she and her cousin got in a punch up during what should be a peaceful meal. I mean they're kids it's understandable, but little Jac is a decent sorcerer in his own right and Lowri's Lowri so yeah it takes Sadie and I both sometimes to tear them apart. Usually it's in good fun but still. They can do that on their own time.
"Yes that sounds lovely, and what will your father be doing?" The Duchess asks.
"I'm having luncheon with the bowmen, and the palace guard," Elis provides since there's a 50% chance Lowri was going to say 'looking pretty I guess'. "You know, like father used to."
"Ah yes. Are you planning on taking this new one to court or anything for your Chirstmas address?" The Duchess asks.
"We were thinking New Year, he's still not fond of crowds yet," Rhiannon says, as Lowri comes to sit by her to tear unacceptable bits off of scones. Usually she gives those to Gareth and he'll eat them or I will, but she's staying at the table with her grandmother here.
"Yeah, he gets fussy, anyway, they saw him at harvest, for a bit," Elis says, protectively. The people do love their prince, already, and knowing he's healthy and well is enough.
"We're protective of him, he's still little for his age," Rhiannon says.
"He looks well," the Duchess says, nicely. Elis is currently feeding Myrddin and they look equally pleased with the arrangement and how nice they both look. "It's understandable to be protective though. I was the opposite. When Jac was small I'd take him out in public because I assumed that if he wasn't seen everyone would assume I'd killed him, because I really don't like him. Then with Elis I took him out in public because I assumed if he hadn't been seen lately everyone would assume that Jac had killed him. I still think that when I don't hear from any of you, for a while."
"Is she talking about me?" The Duke asks, he genuinely didn't hear he and Gareth have been whispering this whole time.
"Aye a bit," I say, watching Lowri who loves her uncle Jac. She's currently using gestures to indicate the spells she thinks she should get to put on her grandmother and I'm using gestures to indicate how many of her toys I'll take a way if she does that. Yes, I'm very good at parenting superpowered children I should write a book about it if I survive.
"Mother, no I still cannot go out in the sun, it is wicked, Gideon can explain," the Duke says, as a blanket statement, before going back to chatting with Gareth.
"See why we come here for food? You don't get this sort of thing with the bowmen," Gareth says, to Oisin.
"Once the whole Fianna thought my father had killed me," Oisin puts in, just to us.
"Why?" The duke asks. He liked the 'pasty twitchy Irish boy' once he found out the 'pasty twitchy Irish boy' occasionally brings him English spies to torture. Don't look at me like that. King Henry should stop sending spies to us. Also he's tortured several of us.
"Oh, I turned into a deer and was hiding so they'd all think he'd killed me and ride him about it because I was cross with him," Oisin says.
"Useful that," I mutter. I once had the police called to my parents house because someone at school thought I was planning a murder which I was, it was just of an English monarch who died several hundred years ago. I didn't do that for revenge though. My step sister did know what I was doing, and she told no one. She let them tear apart my room and question everyone I ever met while she laughed her ass off and took pictures while they figured out I was doing historical re-enactments.
"I thought it was. Anyway not quite the same thing," Oisin says.
"Same as what? What, is she saying she used to think I was going to murder Elis or something?" The duke asks.
"Something," I say.
"That's because I used to tell her that. I thought he was small and weird which is still true and I didn't want to have to spend time with him so I'd wake her up in the night and say I was going to kill him so she wouldn't make me watch him. It worked out fine because then when he got to the age he needed to be sneaked down to the dungeon and shown weapons she didn't suspect and try to stop our fun," the Duke says.
"That wasn't fun, it's important to me you know that," Elis, who apparently heard some of that, tips his head up.
"Why were you screaming like that then?"
"Because I was terrified! I was four Jac I was very very very frightened of you the Duch—our mother said not to go places with you and you sneaked into my room and carried me by the back of my shirt and started holding weapons very close to my face," Elis says.
"Oh. I thought you were enjoying it. Gideon brings that one down she enjoys it," the Duke points at Lowri.
"Do you two refer to me as 'the Duchess'," the Duchess whose sons have always referred to her as the Duchess, says.
"No," they say, in unison. Gareth is trying not to laugh.
"They do," Rhiannon says.
"Good," the Duchess says, primly, "At least they respect women."
"They do. You did that," Rhiannon says, amused, while the brothers gesture to the other wondering if they're about to die.
"I tried. Wasn't easy; that one still doesn't go outside."
"I can't," the duke says. He literally can't the sun burns his skin we don't know why, "Again. Gideon has more information on this than I do."
"No thank you. Has our little Myrddin started talking yet?" The Duchess asks.
"Not yet, but he definitely knows what we're saying," Rhiannon puts in.
"Why does everyone always ask that? Don't enough people around here talk?" Elis asks, protectively, holding Myrddin mostly for emotional support. The baby is happy to provide it, playing with the fine fabric of his father's robe.
"It's what one talks about with babies. Girls usually talk soon, I'm told," the Duchess says.
"You talked right away," Rhiannon says, fixing Lowri's hair as she pours them both a cup of tea, "I think you first word was mummy."
"Good," Lowri leans against her a little.
"Hm. My first born's first word was 'die'," the Duchess looking directly at her son, dressed as usual in black, currently arguing with Gareth and Oisin about something to do with whether or not a bear could be killed by an arrow depending on angle. I was going to comment but they said they needed five more minutes to decide who is right before I give them the correct information.
"That—fits," Rhiannon says, "Why?"
"We don't know."
"Ah. What was Elis'?" Rhiannon asks, fondly, looking over at her husband.
" 'Pretty'," the Duchess says, so resignedly.
"In what—,"
"He looked in a mirror."
"That's cute."
"He was three."
"Ah," Rhiannon is trying not to laugh.
"I probably did look pretty and nobody had told me, so I had to tell myself," Elis says, sullenly, "Also we only have her word for it—,"
"Jac was there—Jac, what was your brother's first word?"
"Pretty describing himself, why? Did the tiny one talk yet? Is it going to be a fun child or a more sensitive one?" The Duke asks, hopefully.
"Not yet, we're taking bets, honestly he can talk when he likes," Rhiannon says, amused.
"What was your first word?" Gareth asks, hand on my shoulder.
"Pretty sure it was 'no', but no one strictly wrote it down," I say, "I was generally protesting things as a child so that makes sense."
"Does actually," Gareth says, amused, "All right, we're ready for your input. Do you think—either of us—can kill a bear with an arrow, or no?"
"Oh absolutely, with the properly reinforced shaft and from the right angle. Is this something we're trying?" I ask, hopefully.
"Yeah, definitely," Oisin says.
"Obviously, now that you said that," Gareth says.
"Fine, I suppose you're expecting me to make an arrow that can pierce a bear's hide?" The Duke asks.
"Yeah, definitely, however consider we're going to let you skin it," Gareth says.
"Deal, after new year, or whenever the clever people forget we're supposed to doing other things," the Duke says.
"Bears hibernate, we can't do it till spring," I point out.
"You do have magic. What good is it to us if you don't wake up a bear so we can shoot it?" Gareth asks.
"Isn't that not like, overly sportsman like?" I ask.
"It's completely sportsman like, we are trying to compete to see who can shoot it first which we can do, if you wake it up for us," Oisin says.
"What happened to being a friend to animals?" I ask him.
"Oh, fuck bears, for real, one nearly ate me once," Oisin says.
"Were you—human at the time?" The Duke asks, slowly.
"It nearly ate me. Was traumatic this is a revenge story now. Completely sportsman like," Oisin says.
"Okay, yeah I mean I don't have good impulse control so I'll probably help you two do that just don't get me a lot of advance warning when we're doing it so I don't think of why not," I say.
"Sounds like a plan," Gareth slaps my back.
Meanwhile the royals at the table are chatting/bickering mostly good naturally. Lowri and little Jac are behaving and only using small amounts of magic to spill each other's food so I'm mostly letting that situation go as they're having fun.
A servant comes to the door. Sadie nods to me to watch the kids and goes to take the message. Dancer should sort of do it, but he's got a bad limp and Sadie's closer. He tips his head to her thanks for not making him move.
"It's from England," Sadie says, coming back to the table and holding up the letter, "It just came by messenger."
"Why?" Like seven of us, incredibly suspiciously, despite her clearly not having opened it.
"It's addressed to yourselves, your graces," Sadie says, holding it out.
"Read it," Elis nods to Rhiannon, putting his hand over his face. "And it's okay to lie to me about the contents if it'll make me happier. It's Chirstmas so I want you to know that."
Rhiannon rips open the envelope, looking at the contents. Her face registers surprise but not horror so you know. That's something, "It's from Prince Harry—the queen is dead."