Post by oznerol on Jul 19, 2020 13:22:08 GMT -5
A colorful bird was perched in a vine as the gathered people talked and shared drinks and meals, most of them finely dressed. The sun was warm still and the garden were still flowered. The red house stood in the mid of a vineyard, the porch being the scenario of the current scene: a very tall man, with long beard and bushy eyebrows, was telling a tale to a diverse audience. There was a young lad, dark of hair and with prominent ears. Next to him, a man thrice or four times his age, wearing a very colorful red outfit, topped by a flat and large hat, an ornate ceremonial sword on his belt. A woman, fairest of them all once, but now her beauty was somewhat diminished and a hard look rested on her face, looking slightly sullen, something not even the best make up would conceal; she wore a cloth emblazoned with what looked like towers. Another man, somberly dressed, with a very worn hat, but looking more powerful than the red gentleman of splendid garments. And so on and so on, quite a few more were sitting, drinking and eating in the sunny villa. All of them listened to the man with bushy eyebrows that was wearing a doublet green as grass and had a golden chain on his chest.
"This man, you see, he was most wicked. There was not a single bad deed he hadn't commited. Rape? In the scores, silent sisters, young lasses, his own mother, none were spared his touch. Theft? The man hardly had worked for anything he owned, not even a dime he had earned by his brow's sweat. Murder? The cries of his victims can be heard from Oldtown to Lannisport"
The woman with towers on the gown frowned slightly and her nails pitter-patter the table before her. The bearded man stops for a moment but the woman gestures him to continue.
"He was vile, black-hearted, seven times a sinner. And he was conducting some bussiness in the city of White Harbor, where his wickedness was not known for and he was just a man among many, coming in a carrack to trade salt and fish, dishware and wine"
He made a dramatic pause.
"This man, Huguetto, reached the house of a friend of his father's friend, who lived with his twin: they were merchants and traded many things and the sinner had been told to visit their house and seek them and make bussiness with them. But... when he reached the threshold he fell like a mature plum and was gravely, terminally ill"
He looks around, a servant pours him wine and he sips.
"You see, he was dying almost, rotten from the inside out by cholera, syphilis and a dozen afflictions he paid little atention to. With the Stranger calling him, the twins brought a septon from a convent nearby to take and draw his confession out"
The bushy eyebrows go up expressively.
"And then man starts talking. Oh, how many regrets does he have! The sept, licking his lips, tells him to go on, tasting the familiar flavour of sin in the air with delight. But he was to be surprised! The man's greatest sin had been spilling cow-milk when he was a lad and lying to his mother! Oh the tears he shed!"
He smiled.
"The twins, both were left speechless, they knew the man, but they remained silent. The sinner spilled menial sins, one after another, all of them insignificant, while calling out the priest and telling he would burn in the foulest of the Seven hells for such transgressions. The venial sins were unimportant! While the evil man was crying over having looked badly at his cousin's cousin during a wedding, the septon, tears in eyes, cried out he was a living saint and a man of virtue. He granted absolution to Huguetto and he died a smile on his lips, while the twins laughed heartily in a room nearby, unable to hold their amusement"
The beard man laughs as well.
"And the septon called for his folk and he preached and delivered a sermon on virtue and the body of the criminal, this wicked man, was laid on state on the convent and people ripped his clothes to make relics and someone even tore off his finger to found a new chappel around it in White Harbor itself. Ever since Saint Hugh of White Harbor has been praised as the holiest man in town, while Huguetto of Plankytown was deemed the foulest man in the world! Both are the one and the same, yet it's the nature of men to be lied and to believe lies if they're pretty enough"
The audience clap eagerly.
"Bravo, bravo, most interesting tale, most amusing! Ser Andrew, you're a most witty man, Gonfaloniere Fieltro was right about you!"
Said the red-clad man, while the woman in rich raiment and tower embroidery smiled slightly, clapping politely. The man with the worn hat raised his cup and nodded.
"And my woman here needed to hear out her own tongue and see her own countrymen, I owed my beloved as much after my beautiful Togarro's birth"
"You pamper me, Tregar"
"I would give you the heaven, Lynesse my dove"
"And you flatter me, my lord. It's just a tale from a collection of tales I read many times. They were written during the foulest plague and sickness to ever step on Westeros many years past. I believe the man was of Lys originally"
"This man, you see, he was most wicked. There was not a single bad deed he hadn't commited. Rape? In the scores, silent sisters, young lasses, his own mother, none were spared his touch. Theft? The man hardly had worked for anything he owned, not even a dime he had earned by his brow's sweat. Murder? The cries of his victims can be heard from Oldtown to Lannisport"
The woman with towers on the gown frowned slightly and her nails pitter-patter the table before her. The bearded man stops for a moment but the woman gestures him to continue.
"He was vile, black-hearted, seven times a sinner. And he was conducting some bussiness in the city of White Harbor, where his wickedness was not known for and he was just a man among many, coming in a carrack to trade salt and fish, dishware and wine"
He made a dramatic pause.
"This man, Huguetto, reached the house of a friend of his father's friend, who lived with his twin: they were merchants and traded many things and the sinner had been told to visit their house and seek them and make bussiness with them. But... when he reached the threshold he fell like a mature plum and was gravely, terminally ill"
He looks around, a servant pours him wine and he sips.
"You see, he was dying almost, rotten from the inside out by cholera, syphilis and a dozen afflictions he paid little atention to. With the Stranger calling him, the twins brought a septon from a convent nearby to take and draw his confession out"
The bushy eyebrows go up expressively.
"And then man starts talking. Oh, how many regrets does he have! The sept, licking his lips, tells him to go on, tasting the familiar flavour of sin in the air with delight. But he was to be surprised! The man's greatest sin had been spilling cow-milk when he was a lad and lying to his mother! Oh the tears he shed!"
He smiled.
"The twins, both were left speechless, they knew the man, but they remained silent. The sinner spilled menial sins, one after another, all of them insignificant, while calling out the priest and telling he would burn in the foulest of the Seven hells for such transgressions. The venial sins were unimportant! While the evil man was crying over having looked badly at his cousin's cousin during a wedding, the septon, tears in eyes, cried out he was a living saint and a man of virtue. He granted absolution to Huguetto and he died a smile on his lips, while the twins laughed heartily in a room nearby, unable to hold their amusement"
The beard man laughs as well.
"And the septon called for his folk and he preached and delivered a sermon on virtue and the body of the criminal, this wicked man, was laid on state on the convent and people ripped his clothes to make relics and someone even tore off his finger to found a new chappel around it in White Harbor itself. Ever since Saint Hugh of White Harbor has been praised as the holiest man in town, while Huguetto of Plankytown was deemed the foulest man in the world! Both are the one and the same, yet it's the nature of men to be lied and to believe lies if they're pretty enough"
The audience clap eagerly.
"Bravo, bravo, most interesting tale, most amusing! Ser Andrew, you're a most witty man, Gonfaloniere Fieltro was right about you!"
Said the red-clad man, while the woman in rich raiment and tower embroidery smiled slightly, clapping politely. The man with the worn hat raised his cup and nodded.
"And my woman here needed to hear out her own tongue and see her own countrymen, I owed my beloved as much after my beautiful Togarro's birth"
"You pamper me, Tregar"
"I would give you the heaven, Lynesse my dove"
"And you flatter me, my lord. It's just a tale from a collection of tales I read many times. They were written during the foulest plague and sickness to ever step on Westeros many years past. I believe the man was of Lys originally"
