Chance encounter, grim future
Although I have yet to participate myself, I love the photographs taken of LARP and medieval reenactment events. They’re like fantasy worlds come to life, and they really fire my imagination. (For those who aren’t familiar with it, LARP — or Live-Action Role-Playing — is all about dressing up in costume and tramping about while masquerading as an alter-ego in an imaginary setting, like Dungeons & Dragons in the great outdoors).
One of my favorites is the following amazing photo at flickr:
(click on photo for full-size version. Note that this is a slightly doctored version of the picture. The original can be viewed here)
I was so impressed with this photo that I wrote a very short piece of fiction inspired by the picture, and asked Bruno Mazzi, who posted it on Flickr, for permission to post it here, along with my story. He graciously complied, so if you’re interested, you can read my (and full photo credits) piece after the jump.
Chance encounter, grim future
“Matthias.”
The large man with the helmet tucked under his arm halted in surprise, his boots crunching wetly in the soft snow. “Jessima? I can hardly believe it.”
The attractive young woman emerging from the shadows of a building’s awning managed a faint, distant smile. Her features were calm, serene, but her delicate fingers clutched at her black cloak too tightly, betraying her nervousness.
“Jessima,” he continued. “It’s been … how long has it been since —”
“Are you here alone?” she cut in.
“Yes, alone. I am traveling North, to the sea.”
“By foot? You have no mount?”
Matthias averted his eyes in embarrassment. “No. No mount.”
“I see. No matter. Matthias. I … need your assistance.” She uttered the last sentence with difficulty.
“Are you in danger?” he asked, searching her eyes. But they revealed no hint of her inner thoughts.
She paused, considering her words carefully. “I am not in immediate danger. It is for my husband that I need your assistance.”
Matthias was still for a moment. “Ollie is your husband?”
“We were wed two years ago.”
Matthias fingered the helmet under his arm. The steel was bitterly cold, and melting snowflakes were leaving streaks of water along its surface. “So long.”
“It is not easy to ask this of you, Matthias,” she went on. “I have no one to turn to.”
With effort, Matthias pulled his attention away from his painful memories of the past. “Of course I would always help you, Jessima. You know that.” His words were heavy with conviction. “What has Ollie done?”
“He has become heavily in debt, to the Baron Roskilde. He could not pay. The Baron sent his men to collect. Ollie fled into the forest, to the north. They pursue him.” Matthias had exhaled sharply at the mention of the Baron’s name. “You know of this Baron?”
“Yes. He preys on men of high station and low income, tempts them to live beyond their means. Are they gambling debts?” She nodded. “I see that Ollie has not changed since I knew him,” Matthias said softly, then seemed to regret it. “Forgive me.”
Jessima shrugged. “Ollie is what he is. If Roskilde’s men find Ollie he will try to fight them. They will kill him.”
“Has Roskilde threatened you?”
She shook her head. “He has a strange notion of honour.”
“I do not know if I have the skill to kill these men of Roskilde’s.”
“I do not want you to kill them. I want you to find Ollie before they do and return him to me. I will make barter with Roskilde.”
Matthias tensed. “You propose to give him your family seat in return for the cancellation of Ollie’s debts.”
“Yes.”
“You would lose your entitlement, Jessima. Your family name will no longer be noble. You would do this for Ollie?”
“He is my husband. I love him.”
“Of course. Forgive me.” Matthias rubbed his beard absently. “Why did Ollie choose north? Is there somewhere he would go?”
“There is an old ruin, a tower. It guarded the river in ancient times. Ollie used to play there as a boy. I believe he has gone there to hide. But he is no woodsman; he cannot conceal his tracks. Roskilde’s men will find his trail swiftly.”
“Then that is where I shall look first.” He turned to go, then paused. “If I do not return in twenty-four hours, tell Roskilde that your husband is dead. Do not offer him your estates before that time; if Ollie is dead, by law Roskilde cannot demand payment from his survivors.”
“Very well. I will do as you ask.”
Matthias nodded, and without a further word turned and trudged off into the snow.
Desperate emotion suddenly welled up in Jessima’s chest, threatening to choke her. “Matthias!” she called out.
He turned. The snow was beginning to fall more furiously. Heavy wet flakes fell between them, obscuring his face to her. But his eyes were clear and distinct. “I made the decisions I made, Matthias. I cannot change them now. But they do not affect how I felt about you. Then, or now.”
After a long pause, he nodded simply. There was no other way to acknowledge her admission. Then he was gone.
Jessima forced back her tears, worked her face into an expression of pleasant blandness. But inside, all was turmoil. She had wished more than anything that she hadn’t had to lie to him, that she could tell him the truth about what he now faced, the true gravity of the situation Ollie had concocted for himself, and for her. Worst of all, the manner of creatures which really stalked her husband.
She knew, with grim certainty, that she had just sent Matthias to his death.
(end)
Photo © Gilles Malbet/N&B for “les Monts Rieurs”. Used with permission. Thanks Bruno and Gilles!