Rudolphus

Rudolphus looked up into the blue sky and the stony outlines of Tri-Feather Hall. Men on scaffolding were scrambling on the west side of the hall, preparing the wall for the new extension to the small castle. Seeing this reminded him that it would be good to travel for a while. The din of construction will make it difficult to concentrate on his studies. There may be little time for studying on the road, however. He must advise the young lord and be sure he did not do anything too foolish.

He turned his attention back to his mount. Nat, the stablehand, was assisting him with strapping on the raven cages. When all was in order, he headed for Lord Cockshaw's study to get final instructions before setting off. As he walked across the courtyard, he saw Ser Daemon and Kableta Qorgyle heading in the same direction.

"Maester Rudolphus, come to hear our good Lord's wise council?" Ser Daemon smirked. He was small for a knight, but that was deceiving. Even Nicolas Flowers, our biggest and strongest man-at-arms, found it difficult to best him. Rudolphus had observed that Ser Daemon had a certain sly irreverent nature, and this made him uneasy. However, Ser Daemon had served them well since swearing his sword to Lord Benedict. I just wish I knew exactly what happened between Ser Daemon and his Tyrell cousins.

"I am surprised to see you traveling with us, Maester," Kableta said. "Will you not be needed here?" Kableta was the master of the hunt and the Cockshaw's best scout. As a Qorgyle, she could have been the Lady of any number of minor Dornish houses. However, she confided in her father that she did not wish to be married. Lady Jade, her cousin, offered her a place at Tri-Feather Hall. She had proved to be an excellent huntress and the precision of her mark was the bane of many a poacher in the region.

"Lord Benedict sends me where I am most needed. In this case, it's to advise, Berowne, who will be meeting many important people and representing the House." In other words, I am once again sent to keep him out of trouble. Rudolphus wished he could say that Berowne was just a fool, but this was not the problem. Berowne had a deep sense of right and wrong. He was honorable. In this world of political backstabbers, honor could fatally blind Berowne.

They arrived in Lord Benedict's solar. There was no sign of Berowne. Nicolas was already seated at the council table, looking uncomfortable. A massive young man, tall and brawny, it was a shame that his birth held him back from a better position in life.

A flutter of orange and gold suddenly lit into the room on a scent of lemon. Berowne, bedecked in orange as usual walked lightly and languidly to the table and sat down. He is graceful, and stronger than he looks. I hope he outgrows his little vanities.

Benedict ground and tightened his jaw at the sight of his son. Whether it was his tardiness, his attire, his scent or the whole package that made him wince, Rudolphus could not say.

"Berowne, everyone. I hope preparations are under way for your journey. As you know Berowne you will be stopping at Castle Hightower to bring the annual tribute to Lord Leyton. He is expecting all of you. Please be aware that there has been trouble on the road between here and Oldtown as of late. Use extra care and do not make a spectacle of yourselves and you should be noticed little. Berowne, since you insist on traveling to this tourney at King"s Landing (frivolous things, tourneys), there is one other task I have for you. As you know, our relations with House Tyrell are tenuous because of the tourney incident and our ties to the Dornes. However, I feel that you may help bring that gap, though in all other cases I would find you an unlikely diplomat. So, I have also sent a Raven to Highgarden announcing your intent to visit.

"This puts Daemon and Kableta in an uncomfortable position. I would prefer that you two circle Highgarden and wait in a village on the Rose Road east of there. Berowne and the others will meet you there when they have concluded the visit. However, this leaves Berowne with less protection. I was considering sending more of my men, but I just received a reply from Lord Leyton, informing me that his son and a friend would like to travel to the tournament with you. Apparently this new friend of Ser Baelor is a talented young Braavosi swordsman that he met in Braavos. He seems to think he will be a match for Thoros of Myr. We’ll see. Anyways, it answers the question of your security at the Tyrell’s. House Hightower always gets a warm welcome."

"What sort of trouble has there been on the road, mi'lord?" asked Nicolas.

"Rogue hedge-knight. The smallfolk call him the Fox Knight. He butchered a whole family on the Costayne lands, recently," Benedict replied. Nicolas shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the sound of the Costayne name. It was generally known that Nicolas was Lord Costayne's bastard, though Costayne had never recognized him.

Rudolphus and the others took their leave of Benedict and began to depart. As soon as they passed the gate, Berowne pulled out his flute and began to sing.

There once was a girl, who was kissed by fire.

Her smile freckled and wide--

"What ARE you doing my lord?" Rudolphus asked.

"Why I'm playing a song to match this beautiful day," said Berowne with his most winning smile.

"I think not. Your father bid us to be discrete in our travels."

"Oh, he worries too much," Berowne replied. "Really, you should hear this song. I just learned it from a black brother in Woodcock village. He was traveling through, picking up convicts for the Wall. He learned it from some wildling. Listen!"

I stole her from a Thenn, dreadful and dire--

"Please, my lord. This is no good. We are carrying your father's tribute," Rudolphus pleaded.

"Oh, right. How much is that again?" ask Berowne.

"Three thousand gold dragons, m'lord," replied Rudolphus, stonily. "Look. I like a good song like any other man--"

"Wonderful. No fluting. I'll just sing. You have got to hear this beautiful, sad song." And Berowne began again loudly and clearly:

Her heart warmed to me, and her luck was all mine.

"Berowne, can you please sing more quietly. Think of our safety," reasoned Rudolphus.

"Safety? Who would touch us? We are armed and fierce. We are House Cockshaw. The people love us around here. Well, they love me, at least. But if you insist..."

"I do," said Rudolphus.

"Very well, I'll sing quietly," Berowne agreed. So as they rode through the green rolling farmlands of the Reach, Berowne sang of the girl with red hair, the luck that came with her and her tragic end.

History of House Cockshaw

The Cockshaw family is from the western coast of the Reach, just a few short leagues from Dorne. They traditionally were fisherman, but as the family grew in status, they branched out to other forms of livelihood including farming, shipping, and mercantile occupations.

Prior to the Blackfyre Rebellion, Bastian Cockshaw and his brother, Rolph, captained cargo ships between the Free Cities and Westeros. Some have speculated that they were actually smugglers, but history has painted them with a kinder hand. The Lord Hightower of the time greatly respected these brothers, particularly Bastian, because he was gifted at the art of negotiation and diplomacy. Hightower sent the Cockshaws to King’s Landing during the Blackfyre rebellion to support King Daeron II. Rolph died in the field at the hand of one of the Costayne’s, also bannermen to Lord Hightower, but mysteriously supporting the Blackfyre cause. The Costaynes are the Lords of Three Towers Castle. Lord Hightower pardoned the Costaynes after the rebellion, but granted their southern tracts of lands and holdings to Cockshaws as a punishment.

Benjen Cockshaw, Benedict’s father, greatly improved the status of House Cockshaw in the eyes of the Hightowers, when they formed a security pact with the Dornish houses along the Western coast. Pirates are always a problem along the coasts and in recent years Ironmen raiders were rather bold during the Greyjoy Rebellion. The Dornish House Clay and House Cockshaw found they more easily defended their shores if they worked together. However, trust has never been an easy thing between Dorne and The Reach. In order to solidify the security pact, Benjen’s daughter, Jeyne was married to a Clay heir and a Clay daughter, the beautiful Jade, was married to Benedict.

Lord Hightower was grateful for the added security this agreement provided. However, in recent years old hostilities have reemerged between the powerful Tyrell family, the Great House of the Reach and the Martells, Dorne’s great house. At a tourney, Oberyn Martell severely injured Willas Tyrell, the heir to Highgarden and left him crippled. While Oberyn protested that it was an accident, the Tyrells do not believe this, since Oberyn has been rumored to use poison weapons. The Tyrells, therefore, have been even cooler to House Cockshaw than they normally would be to a Minor House.

Current Members and Retainers of House Cockshaw (not all)

Lord Benedict and Lady Jade (of House Clay)

Sons:

Benarys (deceased) - Died of a flux last year. Benarys showed promise to be a great leader of battle, particularly sea warfare.

Berowne – 23 y.o and now heir to House Cockshaw and Tri Feather Hall. Also called the Orange Baron due to his love of the color orange.

Daughters:

Ashara – 10 y.o

Knights:

Ser Daemon Tyrell – son of one of the Tyrell cousins. Ousted from House Tyrell after some perceived bad behavior.

Retainers and servants:

Kableta Qorgyle – Scout and Master of the Hunt. She is a Dornish cousin of Lady Jade’s

Maester Rudolphus – the Maester has served House Cockshaw for 10 years now.

Nicholas Flowers – Man-at-arms. Respected for his great strength. He is rumored to be a bastard of Lord Costayne’s.

Nat – Stable groom. Came to serve House Cockshaw through the good will of Berowne.

Berowne's Hunting Triumph

Shortly before my brother died, I attended the wedding of Nat who works the stables of Tri-Feather Hall. My mother disapproved enough to pronounce almost a full paragraph of disapprobation. My father was certain the bride, an assistant cook from the kitchen, must have been a former dalliance of mine. I did not disabuse him of the notion, for had he inquired further I would not have wanted to lie.

A year earlier cattle were going missing in our inland domain, and wolves had been spotted. Bastion, my paragon of a brother (may the Seven grant him peace) was chasing pirates with the house squadron, so it fell to me to hunt the wolves. Before I could assemble a party and go, one of my smarmy cousins said in the hall for all to hear how I'd need help to hunt a kindle of rabbits, much less a pack of wolves.

I dashed my tankard to the floor and with all eyes on me declared that I would go forth alone and not return until I had put a stop to Cockshaw's bovine losses. I rode off on my stallion Starshine Immaculate, leaving my father shaking his head, sure I'd return in disgrace, forsworn.

Two miserable, dirty, tick-bitten weeks later I was considering my best option might be joining the Night's Watch. When, by Gyrfalcon Pond at sunset, I spotted a pair of wolves by a copse of trees. I let loose with my trusty hunting bow, and overshot by a good fifty yards. The wind must have kicked up.

The wolves loped off, and a shout came from the trees. A young man ran out and surrendered – evidently my arrow had landed in his soup pot, and he had assumed he'd been found out. I investigated to find three cattle hidden in the trees with the young poacher. My disgrace was averted!

My joy did not last long, as I learned the youth's story. A father taken by pox, a mother destitute, the stolen beef his only hope, and now even with the cattle returned he faced two weeks in the stocks, which has left men crippled or dead before. Paternal disappointment and the jeering of my cousins seemed less significant somehow.

I offered the young man a deal. If he could take my bow and hunt the wolves down – as he was obviously skilled in the rustic arts -- we'd pin the crime on them, and I'd get the fellow an honest job to support his mother. Two days later, to my father's shock and my cousin's dismay, I entered the hall with two wolf hides after returning two of the cattle and reporting one as “likely lost to the wolves”.

I quietly got young Nat a job as a groom in our cavalry's stables and his mother dined the winter on beef.

A Letter

Lord Leyton Hightower of Oldtown,

It is with great hope that the raven carrying this message finds you and your House well. It has been many years since we fought the Usurper, and his rule has proven to be the disaster we imagined. I would suffer that horrid year spent on the field below Storm's End again, Lord Tyrell's jokes about Dornishmen and all, if I thought we could change the outcome. Do you think of those times when you gaze out on the Whispering Sound from Castle Hightower?

My son, Berowne, has decided to travel to King's Landing for the Usurper's Tourney. As you know, it was to my great grief and horror that my eldest son, Benarys died of a flux last year. He excelled at everything he did. I had no doubts about his ability to lead House Cockshaw to greatness as his great-great grandsire Bastian did during the Blackfyre Rebellion. Berowne has his talents, I cannot deny it, though it would be deadly to trust to his aim. The Tourney may give him the opportunity to show his strengths and learn to politic. However, I worry that Berowne may be a bit flamboyant and foolish. There are times I think his mother bedded down with a Tyrell. Certainly, none of her fierce Dornish blood has surfaced in him. He's more salty pickle than salty Dorne. If my father would have lived to see him grown, he would have found him ridiculous.

As a sworn vassal to your House, I have asked Berowne to stop at Hightower on his way to the Tourney to bring you tribute and discuss local issues. He will be accompanied by a trusted knight in my service, his squire, the Maester of my House and a very reliable man-at-arms. If it is not too presumptuous, please take measure of my son and help me to find a good match for him. The Costayne's are ever plotting to acquire the lands around Kingfisher Bay and I have no doubt are maneuvering to marry him to one of their own. I will not forget how Timeon Costayne killed Bastian's brother, Rolph, in the Blackfyre Rebellion. A union between our two houses is unthinkable. Fortunately, Berowne seems most taken with himself these days, focusing on jousting, tournament glory and all that nonsense. Lady Jade tells me I am losing too much sleep over Costayne's pox scarred daughter and insists that Berowne has much more refined tastes, may The Seven be so kind.

Berowne should be arriving within the week. I await your sage counsel and advice.

Your loyal friend,

Lord Benedict Cockshaw