Diaries of a Dwarven Rifleman

The Captain rolled his eyes, and with a look that spoke eloquently of long-suffering patience said, “'He' is a bit put out that you left the bulk of the regiment to ride ahead without adequate precautions or guards.”

The Prince waved away that concern as the soldiers dismounted.

“Please,” Ynghilda said, “Have your men see to their horses and make free of our stables; in the meantime perhaps we can adjourn to the great hall for some refreshment? Captain, I'd be pleased to have you join us as well.”

Then she frowned and added, “I'd be pleased to have your men join us but the hall is near-bursting as it is with our other guests.”

“Ah yes,” the Prince said as the Captain passed the order along to his men, “The Braell, yes? I must confess that I am eager to see them for myself.”

“Well then, your Highness, come on in and we'll introduce you,” Ynghilda said, “If it's all the same I'll let Lady Eastgrove manage that whilst I speak to my own people.”

They entered the great hall, which was fairly teeming with Braell. They were divided into groups, and the last few days had made a world of difference in their appearance and demeanor. The women now mostly dressed like other women of Ynghilda's household in a linen underdress covered by a surcoat composed of the rectangles of fabric, front and back, connected by straps over the shoulder and belted at the waist. The men still wore what were basically army uniforms, but they had gotten past the notion that they must carry everything that they owned at all times. Some wore their great-cotes, closed or open down the front. Others wore just the linen undershirt and trews. They had lost the homogenous appearance that had worried Deandra and Ynghilda at first.

Deandra smiled to herself as she remembered their first cautious steps into individuality. One morning one of the men, looking very nervous, had been wearing his great-cote open with his shirt belted beneath it in a style favored by some of the men of the hold. The others had all watched her surreptitiously to see how she would react. Oh my, she had thought, realizing what was going on, I wonder if they actually drew straws to see who would brave our wrath. When neither she nor anyone else reacted to his initiative others gradually began to change their own appearance, until now each of them simply dressed in the way that they found most comfortable.

Deandra explained much of this to the prince as they moved among the groups learning everyday skills and language.

“I'm no expert,” the Prince said, “but the cut of the women's dresses seems a bit unusual…?”

Deandra nodded and explained, “We'd been worried about getting the women 'properly dressed' as we simply didn't have the fabric. It was actually one of the Braell girls that came up with the solution. We had quite a lot of extra undershirts and the girl, Sunlight is her name, asked if we mightn’t cut them off below the arms and stitch that to the bottom of their shirts to make a skirt. She so wanted to dress 'like a girl!'”

Deandra chuckled at the memory and continued, “Well, it simply hadn't occurred to any of us, but with a little tailoring it worked out quite well. She's learning embroidery also, and making impressive progress.”

They joined Ynghilda by the hearth to continue their conversation over coffee and some finger-foods. The Prince quickly took charge of the conversation.

“So,” he began briskly, “I and my Regiment are not here to reinforce the offensive, or at least not primarily for that purpose.”

“Oh?” said Ynghilda with a raised eyebrow. Deandra straightened in her chair and perked her ears.

“My mission is actually to do with the Braell rather than the Baasgarta,” he told them, “I am sure that it has occurred to you that we will be liberating thousands, or even tens of thousands of them. Liberating those people is in fact the purpose of the entire offensive; all other goals are secondary.”

“That being the case I'd like to spend a few days here to study what you folk are doing. I'll certainly learn a great deal from your experience, and mayhap I can make some useful suggestions of my own?”

He looked at them with an open, inquisitive expression. Deandra shared a look with Ynghilda and then said, “Well, your Highness, I'm sure that you are most welcome, and we will be happy to aid in your efforts any way that we may.”

Ynghilda offered her quarters for his use but he demurred. “I'll stay with my regiment,” he said, then with a somewhat ironic air continued, “I assure you, I will be quite comfortable! I tend to… travel well. King's son and all that; my staff would be horrified to have me travel in less than luxury.”