“Cydric do you even know how to joust?” Camilla asked as the Ostander stalked back and forth. She had seen Cydric fight from horseback with a sword before but she couldn’t ever rember ever seeing him use so much as a spear.

“I’ve used a halberd,” he said guardedly, “how different can it be.” Camilla sighed and walked over to Cydric. Without ceremony she slapped him over the back of the head. Cydric yelped and leaped backwards rubbing his scalp.

“What was that for?!” he demanded.

“You will not risk your life jousting with Beaumont. It is bad enough that the locals act like their armor has scrambled their brains without you joining in,” she snapped.

“But your honor…”

“... will be quite secure without fools hitting each other with sticks over it,” she responded acidly, plucking the note from his hand and tossing it out the window while Cydric gaped. A footman appeared at the door a moment later.

“M’lord I was told to take a res…” the man began but Camilla cut him off.

“Fetch me quill and ink,” she ordered. THe footman might have been confused but he didn’t hesitate vanishing from the room and returning an instant later. Camilla dipped the goose quill in ink and wrote a reply in carelessly graceful Brettonian before blowing on it to dry the ink. After a minute she folded up the paper and passed it to the footman.

“Take this to the tallest tower that isn’t currently inhabited and leave it there,” she instructed.

“Then go and tell Sir Beaumont that I shall meet him there and that I ask him to come in full armor.” The servant bowed and rushed out of the room, he clearly didn’t understand but he was probably used to that.

“Why full armor?” Cydric asked looking baffled.

“I just enjoy the idea of people climbing stairs carrying all that extra weight,” she said with a malicious grin. Cydric looked puzzled and amused. Camilla crossed the room and collected her sword. It was only an hour till noon but knowing the Brettonian’s they would already be gathering.

“If I’m not going to joust…”

“You are not,” Camilla agreed.

“Then what are we going to do?” Cydric asked a little plaintively. Camilla belted on her sword and then drew a knife and slashed the expensive dress at thigh height, clearing her legs to move freely. Tucking the dagger back into its sheath she collected the gunpowder she had been drying on the window sill and poured it back into her pistol, wadding down the ball with a little of the left over silk before adding a pinch to the pan. It wasn’t going to be easy to find replacement powder outside of the major cities but that couldn’t be helped.

“You and I are going to investigate this curse at the center of the castle while they are all gathered to play with sticks,” she declared. No one would be there who would be able to stop her going with Cydric if they were all out at the lists.

“Uhhh… wont they wonder where we are?” Cydric asked. Camilla turned her devastating smile upon him, making a gesture after the departing footman.

“Why Cydric, I left them a note of course.”