Rabbit Pye

Jacob Lemay held the reins more firmly and guided Neige carefully in the still early hours of morning, though shopkeepers had already set up their stalls of wares and produce for the exchange of coins or for the battering of local goods. Neige, the Lemay's family six year old Percheron mare was well known to him and his children for her even temper, strength and willingness to work, but loud and ruckus locals could still send her rearing. The last thing that was needed now after their long journey from Normandy was an overturned wagon with his and the children's belongings as well as their expensive wares.

Rosalie, the eldest of the twins sat quietly besides him on his right, her long dark auburn hair was tied back in a simple, but elegant braid that fell to her slim lower back. Her features were refined, much like her mother's had been along with striking blue-green eyes which resembled the waters of the Mediterranean Sea along the coasts with the sun shining high. His son, Rosalie's fraternal twin, held a closer resemblance to himself with his curly mop of light reddish-brown hair, bright blue eyes and paler complexion than Rosalie's light olive skin tone.

(Ben, Rosalie)

"Où sont les jolies filles et garçons?" Benoit sang his question in his pleasant tenor voice as he craned out his slender neck to see those who had gathered in the market. "Oh, ces gens ne se comparer peu aux belles fleurs de Paris!" He then exclaimed as he looked around seeing the common folk going about their daily business garbed in simple homespun clothes of what he thought were more drab earth-tone colours than those seen in the capital of France when he had companied his sister, father and mother when she had still been alive and well enough to travel with them.

Ben wondered where the local inn or tavern was, though he did not speak this allowed knowing how his father disapproved and even Rosalie though to a lesser degree and more because of his penchant for heavy drink at times and what she considered the wasting of their father's coin. Though it was hard to get those coins, for their father kept a tighter purse string than when their mother was still alive, Ben thought.

(Rosalie)

"You must practice the king's speech here, Ben." She admonished her younger twin by twenty minutes, in her softly accented voice. She had taken to speaking Anglia's common tongue much better than Benoit thanks to having applied herself more with the tutor her father had found to teach them both. "If we hope to be accepted here and seen as more than French interlopers."

She turned to look towards their father as she stretched her slender back which was somewhat sore from their long journey from London to the Village of Muggleswick by wagon ride with Neige. "It would be best to find someone who can inform us on the local lord and where to find him, so we can set up our shop here legally, is that not right, father?" She asked him. "Then perhaps we can find lodgings?"

Carter stood close to a well that was almost in the middle of the village, he was at the time examining the water level as he bent over and glared down into the dark mossy hole. With the harsh winter the water level had risen and he was commissioned to inspect how full the well was and if it needed to be drained. It would not do to have the well overflow and cause the surrounding area to flood. He widened his eyes and appeared further inclining his head to the left, then to the right, peering with a quizzical look and knitting his brow.
Straightening his posture he dropped a small pebble he grasped in his hand into the hole and waited until he heard the splash. When it resounded he nodded his head and smiled to himself with satisfaction before his attention was snared by the arrival of a small party of newcomers.
"Morn'n." He tugged his forelock, his smile turning friendly. New folk visiting the village were always welcome, unlike previously when it was mainly retinues marching through and taking what they wanted.

Jacob pulled the wagon to a stop and handed the reins to Rosalie who was better at handling Neige in his opinion than Ben was. He stepped down from the wagon onto the slightly muddy streets of Muggleswick's market, thinking it would be more polite to greet the man who had just wished them a good morning, rather than looking down at him like some prick lord.

"Bonj...I mean, good morning my good fellow. My name is Jacob Lemay and I am a goldsmith by trade, though I can make more than simple ornaments. These are my children, Rosalie and Benoit." He gave a bow and indicated each of his children by a polite wave of his hand. He caught himself before he fully greeted the other man in French. His own accent was thicker than his daughter Rose, who seem to take to languages as well as her mother Jendayi had when he had first brought her over from Alexandria, Egypt to live in Ruen, Normandy. "How fare you this fine Spring day?" He asked the other. "Might I inquire as to your duties here and who is the lord of this fine, town?" He was quite sure this was not a proper town yet, but he was a sly man and a little flattery never hurt.

(Ben, Rose)

"Bonjour très cher Monseigneur..." Until her felt his sister's swift sharp elbow in his ribs. "Ouch!" He gave Rose a wounded look. She knew how he didn't like to speak the Englishman's tongue. He had not taken to it as she had and he always felt as though he was speaking it with a hot potato in his mouth. Still, he recovered from his grimace of pain and gave the other man with a dark greying beard and what he thought was a baby's bonnet on his head a bright smile.

" 'Ello to you, kind sir and good morning." He greeted the other man in his awkward English, hoping it would be judged good enough by the other man if not be his sister. He refrained from sticky his tongue out towards Rose. "Eh, watch out for this one, she can be a real hellcat, she has Saracen blood!" He added with a grin as he pointed to Rose.

(Rose)

Rosalie's smile suddenly vanished at her brother's insult towards her of being a hellcat. She turned the full force of her vivid turquoise glare on him as she felt her face flush. Ben gave her a sheepish smile but no apology. She would extract it from him later when they were alone, she silently vowed. She turned back to the older man by the well as she was curious as to why had thrown a peddle into it. She gave him a polite nod of her dark reddish brown head.

"Good day, sir. I hope it finds you well." She said, showing better manners than her twin. She held the reins in her lap, while still keeping a good grip on them, should Neige decide that she wanted to venture further into the village.

He gave a fleeting bewildered glance up at the three people, they had a peculiar speech rolling off their tongue which seemed to stupify him for a moment, were they from the south? He had been told of many folk down south that talked strangely. He had just become used to the pitch and pronunciation the new lord used...."Ah, yes!" The thought of the lord jolted his attention back to the question from Jacob. "The lord, that would be Lord......Urm." What was his name again? He fumbled with the ties of his shirt as he strained to remember the strange name, he glanced down at a small clear puddle of water..."Lord O Cleare, Ó Cléirigh. That's him Lord Ó Cléirigh. And my duties are to see to the well, so it doesn't overflow...again." With that, he nodded with delight, though it was a little boasting. "You'll find the lord over at the manor, Branlock Manor. Ye can't miss it," he pointed over in the north direction. "Just drive through the village and turn a little to the left, it's the big house."

Jacob's lips drew into a thin line as he heard Ben's comment about his sister. He would reprimand both of them gently, but firmly when they were out of earshot from anyone else, even if the common folk here did not understand French. He did not bother turning back to look at them, but gave the man before him his full attention. He thought it odd that the other man did not mention his name or title if he had one after Jacob had introduced himself and his children, but he supposed customs here were different. He had at least provided Jacob with the information he sought.

"Lord Ó Cléirigh is the man I must seek out then, thank-you. That is an important job you have, I see. I will not keep you from it. Thank-you very much, again. We will be on our way. Children, say a polite thank-you to the kind man." The last was said with a smile, but with a clipped tone that he would not tolerate anymore nonsense from either of the twins.

They had clearly heard this tone from their father before and did as they were bade. Both Rose and Ben gave the man a smile and polite bow of their heads as Jacob got back on board. Rose, moved over to sit next to Ben and handed her father the reins back. Neige turned her head as if to ask if it was time to go? With a gentle flick of the reins and an "Allez Neige!" They were off to continue their drive through the village.

(Ben, Rose)

Ben was already preparing his defense. "Si elle ne m'avait pas donné un coup de coude..." He was cut off by the voice of both his sister and father speaking at the same time.

"English Ben!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders. "Yes, fine. I am sorry Rose." It might have been sincere had he even tried to look at her instead of siting up again to crane his neck and look around for a sign that indicated a tavern. He felt as though his throat was parched and he knew he would be in for an earful if not an ear pulling from his father on remembering how to behave in public and not provoke a fight with his sister. Never mind that he hadn't provoke anything, she had started by elbowing him only because he didn't want to speak in a language that made him sound like an idiot with his mouth stuffed with cotton.

Not seeing what might stand for an inn or tavern, he decided to change the subject. "So, it must rain a lot here, yes, if they have to worry so much about the level of the well water rising?" He hoped it would work and his father and Rose would forget that he had publicly called his sister a hellcat.

(Rose)

She kept her clenched fist in her lap and counted in her head as their father guided Neige and the wagon past the marketplace and slowly edged them towards the left to make sure they would not pass Ó Cléirigh house even though the man had said they could not miss it. She found herself calming down and she knew she had to stop letting Ben get to her. He wasn't wrong about her having a temper, but with Soeur Marguerite's help back in Rouen, she had thought she had improved at controlling it. Still she had acted poorly, "I am sorry Ben for striking you and I am sorry father for causing you embarrassment. Yes, it might be troublesome if there is a lot of rain here as you say, Ben." Hopefully it would spare both herself and Ben their father's reproach.

She soon felt her father's gentle pat on her knee and knew she had, for the most part, been forgiven. She was after all his daughter and had inherited his temperament. She looked up to her father tremendously and hoped never to disappoint him. Speaking of looking up. "Oh, there I think, that must be the place the man spoke of." She gave a nudge of her head to indicated it to her father and brother that they should look to the left at the large two-story wooden manor house with a green roof.

Taisty slipped through the hedge and made his way towards the village lane, hurrying past the vegetable plots and skirting around the cottages trying not to linger as he was now aware that some of the villagers were watching them carefully. It was expected from people who have suddenly found strangers on their doorstep, particularly the traveler kind with no worthy craft skills or need to settle down and become a cottager. Working as a serf for a season wasn't too bad unless your employer granted you the most unpleasant tasks.
Once his feet were on the lane he glanced behind him towards Crusty and offered an encouraging smile. "At least the day's nice," he said, "and we can relax later with a jug of cider and some pies." He promised hoping it would bring a little cheer to his friend. He turned back towards the lane and swiftly strode north to where they passed the manor when the traveler caravans arrived.
There was another wagon ahead of him, but not one that belonged to any traveler, non that he was familiar with anyway. The wagon was a little bland in design he thought. Slowing down to a relaxed walking pace he followed but angled towards the left, his sharp summer sky eyes observing the three people and perceiving they were also heading towards the manor.

Crusty was aware of the staring glances from some of the villagers but he ignored them as best he could. It was at the mention of cider that brought a smile to his face. He followed Taisty, still with his hands deep in his pockets that way he couldn't be accused of stealing if he accidentally bumped into something.

Watching the wagon ahead he quickened his step to catch up to Taisty so he could walk beside him and talk quietly. "What de ye think that's about?" He asked as he also saw the three people. "De ye think they're moving in or moving out?" His thick eyebrows knitted together.

"Let's ask!" He quickened his pace up towards the proud-looking horse so he could see the driver of the cart. "Hey. You going to the hall?" He asked in his usual friendly yet inquisitive tone with an upward nod of his head indicating the building just beyond. He could distinctly see the three passengers, two men, one younger than the other and a young very pretty woman. He offered her a wide cheerful smile. "Hello."

As the dark-haired young man approached the pale grey Percheron, Jacob gently pulled on her reins to get her to halt. "Whoa Neige." He got a hold of the reins as the mare stamped her hooves, seemingly impatient. "Good day young masters what can we do for you?" He asked in his thick French accented voice.

"Yes, we are going that way to seek a permit or permission or whatever is needed to set up shop as well as a place to rent or buy to live in. Have you business with the lord yourselves?" He inquired of them in a neutral tone. He did not volunteer his name since the man before him had not and Jacob had yet to know his intentions or that of his companion.


((Ben, Rose, Crusty,?))

Benoit`s brows rose, his bright blue eyes widened as did his smile in appreciation of the two young men who stood next to their wagon. Now here are two youths, though not richly dressed, who are far pleasing to the eye, he thought. He might have slightly shoved his sister out of the way to get a better look at them when an outraged cry of, "Aiye! Ben!" was heard after a thud and a pair of shapely feminine calves up went up in the air and could be seen encased in knee-high soft, leather boots. Ben turned around a moment to offer his hand to help his sister back up onto the wagon's bench with a somewhat sincere, "Oops, désolé Rose."

An exasperated sigh was heard from the older man, as he too, turned to offer his strong hand up to the young auburn-haired woman, whose face was now nearly as bright as her reddish brown locks.

((Rose, Crusty, ?))

Coming back up to sit on the bench, mostly with her father's help, Rosalie tossed her long, thick auburn braid around, making sure it would whip Ben in the face, though the rascal knew her art-of-war by know and ducked with quick agility. She sat straight-backed and smoothed down the blue, linen skirt of her dress with her hands as she tried to act as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred, except when she turned the full power of her icy turquoise glare on her brother.

She then faced the two young men as she plasterd a pleasant smile on her full bow-shaped lips. "Good day, young masters." All the meanwhile, her mind screamed, Je vais te tuais, Ben!


((Crusty, ?))

Crusty looked up at the three people, he caught the accent but wasn't quite sure what the older man was referring to at first. He scratched at his wispy beard, there was not much to it as he couldn't grow a proper one, not with his ancestry. Then it dawned on him, they were craftsmen and French? He guessed, he'd heard Welsh and Cockney, Scottish and of course Irish.

"Aye," He replied. "We're seeking work ourselves. But we're not skilled." He felt his cheeks flush aware that he had drawn attention to himself. He was usually more bashful and wary than this when it came to talking to strangers. He fell silent, his grey eyes searching the ground unable to look up towards the people but he had a smile on his face.

"A good day to you, good sirs, miss." He nodded his head in acknowledgment. "I'm Taisty," he raised his finger towards himself, "and this here's Crusty, we're the Pye cousins. We're travelers and come here every spring with the rest of our folk." He thought it would be favorable to announce who and what they were, that way if there was going to be any negative reaction towards him and Crusty at least they would know in the future to avoid these people.
However, at this time he would offer a friendly and helpful attitude hoping it would be a benefit to both parties. "I hear there's a new lord been appointed, though I don't know what he's like. Never met 'im ye know. But I've heard he's seeking to employ folk." He presented an energetic smile then gestured with his hand towards the hall, giving a little bow. "After yous." There was an open area at the entrance of the hall commonly used for carts and carriages.