#bergen_county

Brekke is enjoying herself. Not the world need know. As stormwake cuts loose under her, she feels the speed gather and build, even the summer heat is tempered by the resulting sensation of wind! They have the trail to themselves, and if they want to jump a log , well, no one there will be there to comment. At least not yet

And why not? She coaxes Stormwake towards the obstacle.

Stormwake gives the equine equivalent of a grin, and they break towards it, speed building. The horse and rider need to work in unison for proper form. It's not enough to just get over the log, one must do it right!

She leans forward, giving him plenty of freedom with the reins, and...up!

And for a moment, it's not just the Kestrel that flies. While a lot of conjuncture goes on how Spark gained wings, the saddle and more... Stormwake makes it quite believable he would sire such a one! They rise like a thrown spear! And when they finally land, it's like thunder playing with the grass!

"HA!" Brekke allows herself that bit of joy, and as they slow back to an easier pace, she give the mighty steed a good pat on the neck. "Good."

Proud prance. Yes , yes her stallion agrees, yes it was

A bit of a chuckle. They get a bit further along the trail before she mentions, "Pennons approaches. We must be ready."

A snort of agreement

And , sounds near the footbridge

"Whoa..." Brekke slows Stormwake in order to hear better.

And she hears it "It does not sit well with me, Sir. It does not" A child? No, older than that, male but with a high if confident voice "What you say sounds promising, but these people have made no war on me"

"They are in disarray. And you have the right. I will be your champion" A woman's voice, grown, "We may face others, but with the treasure we can insist"

"It is the fact they are in disarray. It does not seem honroable, Sir" The younger male says to the older woman. Sir appears to be a title. Some women do use it

Brekke reins Stormwake to a halt still some distance back, but can she see the speakers through the leaves?

Oh she can. She is no stealth meister, but she knows the echoes and ways sound carry better than some of the birds who sing in it.

"One must be practical, your Excellency, and besides, it will be an honorable fight" A pause "You would know if I were lying about that"

Excellency? A count...and a Gwydion count, at that. She frowns. They seek to challenge me? Brekke checks the boon herself to see if the woman lies.

The woman does not lie

"I suppose. you are right. I have appreciated everything that your organization has done on my behalf And they could use proper leadership" The young voice ponders

At this, Brekke spurs Stormwake forward and into view. "Stand and speak your names, for you are within my lands." Her voice is even, steady, with just the slightest hint of anger.

And Lo and Behold she comes upon a quiff styled blonde haired 13.. 14 year old wilder sidhe in Gwydion Garb! He does have signs of a Count. At his side is a long sword that is just an inch short of being too big for him to wield one handed. Next to him, with knightly spurs, is a grump troll. The woman has a massive maul and, judging by her scars, has been in a fight fights then some.

Brekke sizes them up...and waits for them to comply.

THe boy speaks up first , almost excitedly "Count Obeithiol Goldenwing ap Gwydion, and it is an honor" he gives a slight bow, he outranks her, but his respect seems to border on the worshipful "You must be Baroness Brekke Shacklebreaker. An honor"

The troll is a knight, and so she DOES bow, but seems less impressed "Sir Drifala"

She returns the bow still on horseback. "Excellency. I was not aware Rivervale hosted visitors of such rank today." She does not smile. She adds a nod to the knight. "Sir."

"It does not, Baroness," he says "And I would not be so tawdry, we but mean to use this trod to claim yon farm country and bring order to Chaos. " And he shows his Count Pennons, which by magic of the Dreaming might allow him, OR his champion, to challenge the DeBukes

Assuming they don't beat the holy hell out of him and his knight before they can show it

"Excellency...the trod is within Rivervale's boundaries, and thus within my demesne." She points this out in carefully measured tones. "In fact, I was not aware it was so well-known."

"It was not, " He admits "but I have aid in ferreting it out." Obelaithiol gives a dazzling smile! Were she a wilder herself, Brekke might have an inner swoon. Probably not. But while the charm is tangible, she is not impressed and might even suspect the boy , while perhaps a decent sort, is not the brightest falcon in the sky

"Aid? Who provided this aid, Excellency?" Oh, she definitely suspects this.

"Why, the Beltaine Blade, " He says and nods "Sir Drifala has lent me their aid. Think of it, Baroness, via trod at least, we shall be neighbors! you will be welcome to visit once I've tamed the commonfolk and set them to right" A happy smile.

Sir Drifala inhales softly

"Indeed?" The look she gives Sir Drifala is positively grim. "Excellency," she turns her attention back to the boy, "I do not grant you access to the trod. The people of the Farmhold are my allies...and I will defend them."

"I.." He says gapes "You are.. denying me?" She's seen the look before. The boy is probably not a bad kid... he's just not heard the word 'No' enough in his life

Sir Drifala steps up "And if we should go to Count Hemlock regarding this?"

To the Count, she says, "I am. I am also surprised. What is the challenge in defeating mere farmers? I would think a Count would seek a greater challenge."

She raises a brow at Drifala. "You, of the Beltane Blade, would petition Count Hemlock for this? Then...I suppose we shall see what happens." Brekke doesn't look particularly intimidated by the prospect.

Drifala frowns. Perhaps she knows Hemlock is NOT the biggest fan of the Blade.

"Excellency, surely there are more appropriate challenges to seek out. Lands where you may establish a new hold...not merely take a seat among barns and manure."

"It is not a matter of challenge, Your ladyship" He says "it is a matter of bringing order to a primative and lost lodge"

"They need me!" He says with guileless certainty

"Excellency...with all due respect, whoever convinced you of this does not have your best interest at heart. For I can tell you that you will find no welcome there, and they are quite adept at managing themselves."

"They may not welcome you, your excellency, but their ccurrent disaray proves a firm hand such as yours is required" Says Drifala

"Sir Drifala, I am confused about this notion of disarray, for that is not what I observe at all." And the Gwydion Count would know this to be a true statement.

"Their hearth has been laid low, or so our sources say and there is tension ..." She responds "They need order"

Obeithiol Goldenwing frowns "Wait, good knight. This is Baroness Shacklebreakker who says this. "

The eyebrow again. "Your sources do not seem to understand the structures of a well-functioning Lodge. They have order."

"Excellency, perhaps I am cynical, but I suspect somebody among your sources may be using you to their own purposes. I cannot otherwise understand this misreport."

Sir Drifala straightens her jaw "The Beltaine Blade is the very SOUL of Seeliness. HOnor is paramount"