First Meeting

Or, When Elphin Met Delia
By Elphin

Every seaport I have ever been in has always sounded the same. Shouts of sailors in a multitude of languages intermingle with the cries of seagulls. The planks of the docks creak and the ships boom against their moorings. And underneath it all is the unceasing pounding of the waves. I was waiting in this particular port for a friend to arrive.

David of York and I had been friends since the Master at Arms had paired us when we first began learning the art of swordplay. A close friendship was built out of beating each other black and blue. We were inseparable for a time; prowling London, drinking and carousing. We learned to watch each other's backs through the turbulent times of Our Queen's early reign.

I had received word that David was bringing with him a purse from my brother to replenish my much depleted funds. Ever since we were fostered to the royal court my older brother has protected me. Whether it was bigger bullies or vicious gossips, he has always tried to shield me from the worst of human nature. I had decided it was my turn to protect him by staying as far away from the royal court as possible.

I tried once again to think of some way to stretch my resources. Money had a distressing way of disappearing and my training to be a courtly gentlemen left me little in the way of marketable skills to sell. My dancing abilities were poor at best, my proficiency at chess and witty conversation were not likely to gain any gold, and my abilities with the written word were poor enough to drive the good brothers who had taught me to distraction. I could sell my sword arm, but I lacked the stomach for putting a price on my loyalty. I am passing fair with a rapier, perhaps someone would pay for lessons for a son, or sons.

Someone sweeping me into a bear hug interrupted my musings. Gasping for breath, I opened my eyes to see that David of York had arrived. We pounded each other's backs and said the things one usually says when one meets an old friend one haven't seen in some time. I suggested a drink to celebrate the occasion. David heartily agreed.

On the way I inquired as to the health of his father. David struck a pose and in his best imitation of the Chamberlain's haughty tones, "The Duke and His Lady are Resting at His Summer Palace."

I laughed, David always had a way of ridiculing the most irritating of people. I asked after his mother. "She is also doing well," he replied, "She sends you her love."

Without my asking, David slipped me a heavy purse saying, " Your brother sends this as well as his love.

"He is adjusting well to his new title," David continued, "Even the Queen has made comment.”

"It gladdens my heart to hear it." I said, tucking the purse away.

After several ales at a nearby tavern, we decided to search for more interesting surroundings, as the establishment was lacking the area of feminine accompaniment. Not too steady on our feet, we wandered the back streets, looking for a more entertaining place of business when a tall figure dressed in tattered rags rushed around a corner and plowed into me. I tried to push the mendicant away, but was shocked to discover my hands had encountered a very obviously female form. I looked at her face and fell into the most soulful, dark eyes I had ever seen. They seemed to implore me for help in some way.

I would likely be there still, gazing into her eyes but for the appearance of four burly men carrying clubs. They shouted in a language unknown to me and rushed forward. The maiden in my arms stiffened and whirled around. As she did so I was shocked a second time as I felt my rapier being drawn. The raggedly dressed woman had snatched my own sword from its sheath as she stepped away! I stared at the maiden's hand holding my blade incredulously, uncertain of what was going on.

I noticed a heavy broken chain dangling from a manacle around her wrist. A look at her other wrist revealed a matching manacle. Both her wrists showed the blisters of long wear. These men were definitely not from the local constabulary. She would have to be their slave; no doubt escaped from a ship moored in the harbor. I felt my mouth tighten. Slavery had been rightly outlawed in my homeland for years and no right thinking man espoused it. I didn't know who she was or what was happening, but no gentleman, even the son of a Welsh scoundrel, could stand idly by and allow a damsel to be harassed, even if she had stolen his blade.

Drawing my dagger, I stepped beside the maiden. David, as I expected, drew his rapier and stepped beside me. The four men did not look very happy with this situation. Judging from the men's dress and heavy beards, I took them for Poles. I did not know what language was spoken in Poland. I did know a little German, and hoping that at least someone knew the speech of the German Principalities, I tried it. One of the men stepped forward and spoke in a tongue with which I was unfamiliar. I glanced at David. He shrugged his incomprehension. In succession I tried French and even Latin to no avail.

The man who had stepped forward looked at his companions, when they offered no assistance he said in halting Greek, "What do you want?" My grasp of Greek is very poor, but I tried to respond in the same language, "What do you want with this girl?" Actually, I think I said, "What do you do with your grandmother?"

The four men took exception to my words, or at least decided that the time for diplomacy was past. They charged, flailing with their clubs. I stepped inside one man's swing and tried to parry with my dagger. Instead of catching his club, my dagger caught his forearm. Recognizing an opportunity when I saw one I drew with the edge of my blade, opening his arm to the elbow. He grunted and dropped the club. He sent me sprawling with a powerful blow from his left hand, then leaped on top of me. I had to bash him several times on the head with my dagger pommel before I could get him off of me. I struggled to my feet and took stock of the situation. After sending one of his opponents running for his life, David was stabbing another in the leg. Unfortunately as the ruffian went down he gave David a good blow in the ribs.

Hearing a loud gasp of pain I whirled around, fearing for the maiden. I should not have worried. The damsel I was so concerned for had run a man through with my rapier. The ruffian groaned and collapsed as she withdrew the blade. I noted by her stance and the way the girl held the sword as she looked for another enemy to skewer that this maiden knew her way around a blade. I also made note of her rather pleasing form her rags tried and mostly failed to conceal.

Seeing no one threatening her, the damsel lowered my rapier and relaxed. Thinking this was a good time to make friends, I stuffed my dagger in my belt and approached her saying, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

"'Don't worry,' you said, 'I won't hurt you,' You said " mocked David.

"Shut up and tie the bandage." I grumbled.



special thanks to Baron Bardulf for the photo of Delia