Baron De'Vance raised his head suddenly at the sound of his daughter's voice, a small smile of pleasure coming to his lips. He still grieved over the loss of her mother, dead these many some years now, carried off by one of the spring plagues that seem to ravish the the population nearly once every decade. That loss was tempered by Seraphina. She was the lord's only child and greatest joy, the latest product of a great line that had served the King and country loyally for generations, a child dutiful and beautiful who could ease her father's trouble mind with but a single word. Despite his current troubles, a heartfelt smile was the least he could offer her.

"Seraphina," he rumbled in paternal pride. He straightened the deep blue doublet about his shoulders, then gestured to a chair set near to him. "We... have an unexpected visitor. A minor matter, I'm sure. Rest yourself, my dear. Sit. I'm sure it will not take long."

There was a stir towards the great double doors that lead into the main hall, and the Baron's head turned back around. The change in his expression from benign to thunderous was a sheer sign that whatever was about to happen was not a minor matter. His eyes followed Broadmere as the ancient limped forward in his thick velvet robes of ochre, the golden chain of office clanking hard against this skinny chest. The Seneschal's lips trembled for a moment as he sought the words one might use on so strange on occasion. What courtier ever found himself in such a position?! To be forced to announce the arrival of some mud stained tramp to one of the great lords of the land? It was a shame he could scarcely bear. "My lord," he finally stammered out, "M-may I present... er... Tambernanny... the Minstrel."

Striding through the double doors as confident as any knight victorious, the young man was smiling as he ambled into the hall. Long legs ate up the distance at what could only be called a leisurely rate. He certainly did not dress like an entertainer. Blue trews, white tunic and green leather doublet, his clothes were travel stained and worn, as were the black boots upon his feet, his head topped off with a wide brimmed cap of matching emerald sprouted a peacock's feather, the only truly colorful spray about his wardrobe. No, he looked like any commoner you might see upon the road. The weathered leather pack slung over his one shoulder bulged, which might give one the impression that he was tradesmen or wandering merchant at best. Until you looked upon his face. Angular and handsome, his golden hair was long and curled gently about his shoulders. The goatee and mustache were of the same hue and shade. Setting it all off were the eyes: sparkling and bright green, they bespoke of mischief and amusement at the entire proceedings, as though the Baron's court and all in it were children playing some elaborate game that he had stumbled into. Looking to the left and right with a bemused smile he ambled forward to stop before the Lord's Chair. Then the smile went from bemused to dazzling. Had any peasant had such pleasing looks and wholesome teeth??

Lord De'Vance was un-moved at the sight of him. To him, this man was an annoyance that was arriving upon the day before the most annoying day in the year. That put the baron in a sour mood indeed. Leaning forward in his Chair, the steely eyes narrowed. "We are told," he rumbled, "that you appear here claiming Fallow Law, Master Tambernanny. I hope you are aware of the punishment for perjury when making such a claim against a liegeman of the King."

"Oh," the bard answered lightly. His voice was a soothing wry baritone, coaxing and light all at the same time. "Oh, yes, I am aware, your lordship. It's a [i]very[/i] serious thing, isn't it, the whole stealing of land thing. While you didn't do it yourself, your great grandsire wronged one of my great grandsires regarding several acres of land just south of the River Wintermelt. The documents I've provided to your man," and he gestured towards Broadmere, " are copies of records that prove this. The land is now unusable as it has become a bone-yard, a cemetery for the poor and impoverished. Even were you to grant it back to me, I could not use it as it is."

The Lord De'Vance glanced at Broadmere, who could only shrug his withered shoulders and make a slight waving motion to the scrolls he held beneath one arm. The Baron's face went from frown to outright scowl at this intruder and his accusations, this tramp who appeared before him with no reverence or respect, no oblique deference or care for the noble's station. Did he not fear the power the lord could bring to bear upon him? Or was he simply so unlettered as to launch into his complaint without regard for his betters? "And what, Master Tambernanny, are you asking of me? Money? A grant of lands in exchange? Unfold your mind to us, man, that we may properly consider what course of action to best take."

At this, the traveler laughed out loud as if he had heard the most excellent jest. "Money, my lord? Land? What would I do with such things?? Land would tie me down, denying me the profession that I love as dearly as life itself! And coin? My pack bulges with all that I need," he tossed off negligently. "What good these earthly desires? You may as well promise me the moon, the sun, the stars themselves for all that I could use them."

Lord De'Vance stood suddenly, anger plain upon his face. "Then if you want nothing for these lands, why do you come before me?!"

"Why, to entertain you!" The minstrel laughed out loud again. "I shall drop any and all claim to those lands on the condition that I play before you for three nights: this eve, tomorrow and the day after, that being Lark's Day. The morning after Lark's Day? I shall leave! And any documents your man needs my mark to relinquish said claims shall be yours as well!"

"All this... just... to entertain me?" 

Tambernanny bowed low, the first sign of any obeisance he had made since he had arrived. "You and your court, my lord Baron. You and your court." His head raised slightly, he caught a glimpse of the Baron's daughter and gave her the quickest of winks.