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| Life and times of Nestor Horaatio Plimsoll 11th
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""Lets go then..."" said Herminie, very matter of fact. Nestor smiled a little and was all for it.
Presently through all the passages of the castle they arrived at the grand staircase. Nestor looked and gazed at it in the gloomy daylight that the still grey weather allowed. He was still 'amarveled at all that a castle was, historic and rich and cold, and musty yet clean and huge. he wondered if a lord or knight had ever ridden his horse up those steps.
""Come on"" urged Herminie. she was in front of the door to the room now. She was trying to find the right key. Nestor tired to reach one of the torches from its' sconce on the wall where it flared its' light. He was not tall enough. He spied a foot stool of sorts in the corner where the wall met the stair case on the side of the hall where they were and where the room had been built. He promptly retrieved it. "' This must be her just for this' he said mostly to himself. He could now just reach above the scone to grab the torch. Herminie tried to wrangle the correct key. The ring of iron was heavy and the keys also...."must jus' let me try a'bit there, said Nessy. Here ye take hold o' this and Ay'll just see what ay can make of it."" Nestor took the keys and Herminie seemed to struggle equally with the club like torch. "weakly he thought to himself... does row much ay''l guess"" he kept the thought to himself. He peered at the key hole and marked its size and shape. He then began tossing the keys around the ring only trying one or two. The second key went in but did not unlock the door. The third key was less worn and similar, he tried that one. A"Clink & click" sounded distinctly. "Oh you have done t Nestor." squealed Herminie... shhhhsh a bit there will ye? Nestor did not know why girls or lady girls squealed so much. His hand reached for the torch, he noticed now that Herminie was half a head taller than he... he squatted and lay the keys on the floor. They'll not be making a sound this way....
Slowly and with great squeaking protest the door opened outward. The pair entered the room. It was small by comparison to the room Nestor had slept in last night. It had a lower ceiling and a small plain bed more of a fancy cot really. There were things of never before seen items on the walls. a knotted leather string a dry candle or two a smaller dry torch, a basin, dried herbals that looked dusty and old. in one corner there was the oddest stool type little chair. Herminie lighted the candles and put them in holderd on a small night table. there was a basket of old looking linens on the floor. They were all folded and had been ironed and were also covered with dust.the room smelled like it had been shut up a long time. The candles gave off a lovely aroma. ""Smells nice them tapers said Nestor. Its' lavender said Herminie. Its' supposed to calm the babies.... calms me said Nestor astutely"". Herminie giggled. Then you must be a baby.... she teased Nestor. He ignored her all but for one sideways glance. In that glance he caught something else. There in the bed-cot on the pillow was a bound volume of some thing. Here Herminie whats' this 'd'ye'spose?
The girl tentatively brushed a thin layer of dust off the covering... it was tied with a leather thong. Hold the light closer Nestor, he took two steps into where the girl was bending her head over to read the writing. IT says: Born, Lord Orville Menzies, Canlisle Gentlemen of the Castle,
north tower, of Lady Bertine Mistress of Canlisle, this Day of our Lord 1539. She has gave up the ghost in her wiffley duty this day.
""ohhhh"" whispered Herminie, ""this is not the North Tower, but... Orville is one of the old Uncles he has a portrait in the picture hall.
She turned the page, and read another entry. Born. Geoffery, another son of the Menzies, with out undue course, to Mistress Littleton second wiffe, this Day of our Lord. 1541 in North tower. Nestor this is the birthing records from nearly one hundred years here but we are not in the North Tower, we are west here. Must have been built later this room as its' hey what that there? Nestor pointed to a cloak rack. there its' a wee door I think."" And so it was. There nearly flush with the wall was a short door. the door was perhaps five feet tall at most Nestor estimated. it had no key hole but a bolt of sorts had been fashioned towards the bottom. ""French design"" he said aloud in an imperative tone. They heard a sound then, some one was picking up the keys... It was Marlee. She motioned for them to come... they came out and Nestor put his hand out making the sign he thought was right for the keys. Marlee gave a barely preceptiable nod and handed the keys over. Nestor locked the door, Marlee was already on the stool replacing the torch. She then pointed to the door. and held up on finger and blew across it. ""Oh, Ock Herminie we have left the candles burning, exclaimed Nestor." Marlee opened the door then expertly snuffed the candles and relocked the door, she silently shooed the others away. Nestor liked her then. Saw the sharpness of her mind.
Marlee scampered away around the other side of the staircase. Her active mins was awhirl with thoughts. The first thing was to restore the keys, then get herself back to her work. She was fast and would not be behind for long. Lady Herminie and her mother needed things, she would be busy today. The rain seemed likely to stop and perhaps the boy would see the town, perhaps Kurt would take her town again. but never mind, she had her work to do. But the marvel of all she had heard the heavy iron sing its' song against the stones of the floor today. Her silent world had been broken if only for a moment. And the boy had known she had seen that. He too had known.
Herminie clasped the record book of the birthings to her busk. She hoped that no one knew, that Nestor could not see. She wanted to know all that was in here, perhaps her own mothers and her own birth were recorded here as well. Who knows who else she would find. She wondered who had written these events and placed them in that room? any book in the Manse by rrights out to be in the library or at least in the pursers. Maybe something in here mattered and maybe not but how fun to know.... someday she may be mistress here and she would know the name of ever soul that been born here. She would seek the North tower in days to come. She would not stop until she knew all there was to know about the Castle. She would ask her tutor to give teh history of the entire Manse and village. She loved this place and her grandfather and even the great grandfather. She would visit him and know things, pour his tea and sweetly cajole the history of this place from him. Women were not much in this world and she would be all she could!
Nestor followed Herminie and when she pointed him to the balconey she made her excuses and went on her way. Nestor took advantage of the perch in the wall under the rampart. He gazed the horizon, There was a short break in the weather. It seemed to oddly calm... he could see that more dark weather was approching, he could see the swelled river and it crept up the banks. IT was a torrent of anngry water. He surmised the Bay was also turbulent. He set his jaw, He smiled and remembered his own home. Extra pastys' would often grace the tble in his cottage in such weather. He had not seen it this severe in ever so long though. He knew the day of his birth had been a day like this. Da' loved to repeat the story often....did he have teh wander lust? Was it fate or because of something else that he was on a journey now? No he decided as he stood in the returning wind. It was decisions. He had wanted to learn more. He Da' and his M'am had wanted it to and decided if he showed promise he would have the opportunity. He turned and went towards the inner hall again. Another decision.... he would see what other parts of the castle looked like and see about a noon meal. Sneaking around was a hungry business!
During the break in the storm many hand made its way down to the river, boats and moorings were checked as besta s possible. Words about the amount of water taken in the river were exchanged. The Menzies was aprised of conditions and decisions were made over the few things that could affected. The inner court yard was sea of mud and the hired soliders sloughed back and forth as did the few servants required to cross the mire. The black smith alone had a few measured inches of hard packed dry earth to the approch to his shop area. More than one hundred years the fire and kiln like oven of heat had heated cooled and baked the ground beneath his anvil and gret bellows. Unlike the village smithy he was advanteged to have a true roof over his head rather than an oiled cloth. The Market place had been slow and closed early after opining late. Milk was late coming. The cololer tempuratures keeping the former days stock fresh enough. Horses, cattle, sheep and goats, pigs and dogs and people, were muddy and chilled. This was North on the Island of the West as some poetic hearts refered to England. Though Ireland and its rock and sand were not ignored it was the poets license to include all of the georgphy in its' meaning. The rain was of a heavy pelting type that caused doors, windows and overhangs to be closed an shuttered. It was more than a gail in strength, longer than a shard spring fechet in its' duration. "Twas nearly a hurricane." the salt in the water could be tasted if it landed on the lips. The shore lines were simply mounted over with water. And the river swelled in dangerous fast eddies of water rushing to the sea and from the sea. Just before dark on that day did the winds slacken some and the rains' promise to let up.
Nestor knew that his folks had seen such weather and wonder the extent of it all. He knew their little harbour was very snug and the stout little cottages built with tide sureges in mind. For the next two days as things dried out and repiars made, He and Herminie lingered over a few books, some games and even a musical hour. Herminie then though it a good time to join the great-grandfather, the Old Menzies for his afternoon toddy. Nestor was looking forward to his possible next cup of coffee. He felt it would surely chase the chill of the old stoney castle out of his bones. So Herminie and he were led by Kurt to the chamber of the Old Menzies. Steaming drinks with sweet breads and preserves, were to be forthcoming.
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Posted by lampoil on 2008-09-15 12:37:24 | Rating: | Views: 84
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Wonderful, awesome, and intriguing!
I wish you had gone into further detail of that room and book in the room.
You have the gift of story! I can't wait for more. I know it took me a long time in getting around to reading it (sorry) but I'm kind of glad as each post left me wanting more. It gave me lots to move on to.
Great Job SIS!
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Posted by anotherdaze
on 2008-09-29 09:58:55
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WHEW, Ok Lamp, gonna take me a while to catch up here.... I stepped away from the Forums, (just gets to brutal!) I mean I read them from time to time, but only comment on occasion. I found that I love the blogging part of thoughts.... I intentionally came looking for you and Templar_knight tonight as I remeber you as good people from the forums... I will do my best to catch up on the life of Nestor.... I am extending my hand in friendship!
Thanks,
E
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Posted by Evetspordlaw
on 2008-09-29 17:20:42
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oh goodie lol glad you like it! :)
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Posted by lampoil
on 2008-09-30 11:22:30
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i love your posts though i've got lots of catching up to do.
i'll read them for sure on my sem break next week. ;-)
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Posted by DreamingOfBruxelles
on 2008-10-24 14:40:57
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Very long vacation he is having this Nestor Lad?
Blessings in Jesus
Shalom
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Posted by Christianthoughts
on 2008-10-26 16:09:04
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well CT I have been overly occupied of late, Yes though, lol I will see if the storm has passed. :)
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Posted by lampoil
on 2008-10-28 08:58:21
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