Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letter from the Field
12 October Anno Societatus LIIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

My Dear friend Kezia,

A most glorious day has arrived! The Falcon Crown is secure! The grand Crown Tournament in the Barony of Forgotten Sea succeeded. Their Most Royal Majesties, Anton and Yseult have found Heirs!

I all but floated through the day!

So many fair folk clothed in finest cloth, gleaming jewels, and thick furs. Flags and pennons fluttering in the brisk breeze. My eyes dazzled and my head spun to find myself in the company of Lords and Ladies and Dukes and Duchesses and Knights and Nobles and Royals! The Banners and bannermen filled the fields. The tents and shields and food and spears and drink and colors and smells and sounds. The cacophony filled every sense.

Ah! I tell you the day out of sequence.

The day broke quietly with the glitter of frost sparkling and our countyfolk emerging from tents bundled against the cold. I remain ever grateful for my wagon and the protection it provides me. Upon completing my toilette, I went to find Cristina just finishing her hair. She proves ever stalwart and braced herself against the chill with boot and cloak and glove. Ever glad I am for her companionship.

After we broke our fast, we approached the field to prepare for the day.

The populace began to gather, setting chair and table and shadefly, jostling for positions round the listfield for best viewing of the Tournament.

While Øyríkr prepared for the day Mistress Giraude and her good husband Gianlupo invited us to share their shadefly with friends and Their Excellencies Uldin and Sung. Sir Uldin fought in the Tournament as well. We found ourselves in such good company and readily agreed.

Cristina, ever caring for the needs of others, set a fine table of toothsome and elegant and exotic foods, to share with our companions and many others who gathered for the excitement of the day.

When the time came, all the fighters and their consorts organized to present themselves to Their Majesties. I found myself in the company of so many grand and noble inhabitants of our kingdom. I scarce believed my stars had so aligned. Each in turn presented themselves.

Five of our kinsmen and women walked behind us, carrying our flags and banners, Freya and Mor and Ivarr and Vashti and Cian all followed us onto the field. Such support and kindness they show for us. My heart verily swelled with the knowledge.

I walked on Øyríkr’s arm and knelt before the King, who handed me a rose. The Queen tied her favor onto Øyríkr’s shield arm before we bowed to Them and moved to join the other couples on the edge of the field.

When all the combatants and consorts had been thusly introduced, the Tournament began. I stood in awe! Such prowess! Such might! The sound of sword on shield, the sun glinting off helms, the cheers from the assembly. Each fighter in turn battling for the win!

At each of Øyríkr’s fights, I stood at field’s edge to incourage him on. Between each fight we cheered our companions with words of confidence, sharing food and drink and laughter. Her Ladyship Roise honored me by bringing me sustenance while catering to all in her purview.

The tournament continued from morning into the afternoon. Alas, poor Øyríkr! He fell to an injury! He fought well and long, alack, the stars in the heavens are not yet aligned for his kingship, though it shall come to pass when the Gods allow. Øyríkr perseveres in the knowledge he shall live to fight another day!

And fear not, my friend! Glorious news indeed, as I have mentioned! Sir Lucian won the day! Ere the afternoon grew overlong He and his consort Mistress Tamar were crowned Heirs of Calontir! Our kingdom is secure!

Not long thereafter, Øyríkr found his way to his wagon with the ever present assistance of his devoted lady, Freya, and his faithful kinsmen. They sought out warmer shelter and aid for his injury. With him away, I therefore loaded my wagon and also departed for my journey home.

Ever am I grateful for the knowledge of friendship and love from our kingdom and those I hold dear.
Many of our kinsfolk stayed for the evening festivities, to feast and sing long into the night.

I look forward to when next we meet. My head yet spins with the happenings of the day and I long to share them with you o’er our needlework.

As ever, I remain your friend,
Nesscia

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letter from the Field

11 October, Anno Societatus LIIII

Being 2019 of the Common Era

Dearest friend Bindi,

I realize it has been overlong since I set ink on parchment to bring you tidings of our fair Calontir. Methinks other missives reach you on occasion, another mayhaps will find welcoming eyes.

On this day I am adding the final packages on my wagon for a journey to the Lake of Smith. Our good King and Queen, being childless, are searching for an Heir.

They have summoned all Their greatest warriors of Calontir to fight in a grand Tournament! The winner and consort shall become the Heirs and crowned Prince and Princess by right of arms.

Lord Øyríkr, a mighty fighter, thought of me, and requested me to be his consort in the tournament!

I must say the honor is too great!

For when he bests the other great lords and ladies, I shall be Queen of Calontir. I faint at the thought.

His lady wife, and my lord husband,  have given their blessings, for they have no desire for the pomp and pagentry and responsibilities of the crown. Therefore, when he considered me, the way was clear for me to agree.

The northern winds blow, bringing such a chill to my very bones. Soon the snows will fill our lands, and we must needs prepare. How lucky are we to have such fine companions who endlessly prepare our estates for leaner times.

My servants and I have stitched new garb for Lord Øyríkr and myself. He bought a lovely linen and trim, though methinks with winter nigh upon us, verily, other garb of fine wool will soon be completed as well.

The wagon is nearly ready, I consider the chill journey south and our countryfolk in their tents during the time of the Tournament. Methinks there shall be more than fires for cooking burning throughout the nights.

Alas, word comes that the courier has entered my estate. I must needs seal this missive and deliver it unto his hands ere he departs. I know not when the next courier passes. Hold us in your prayers that the new Heirs are good and kind and will do right in these lands.

Though you now live in the northernmost reaches of the Kingdom of the West, your friends here hold you dearly in their hearts. Your lovely countenance is sorely missed.

As ever, your friend,

Nesscia

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letter from home
28 July Anno Societatus LIV
Being 2019 of the Common Era

Unto Mor does your friend Nesscia send heartiest of Greetings!

Words alone cannot express my joy. Riding in my wagon south, to the heart of our wondrous kingdom, to the Shire of Cum an Iolair, during the height of a glorious summer, for no other purpose than to celebrate life, I pondered my immense good fortune. My stars align to bring me such joy and make my heart glad.

I journeyed in my wagon with my countrywoman, Her Excellency Kezia, and Æðelwyn, a young villager new to Calontir. I know not what grand opportunity allowed me to make the trek south and return north with such fine women as to ease the long hours with chitter chatter.

I must extend my gratitude to you, dear Mor. The memory of sitting at our leisure, prattling about all the goings on in the commons room with you and your charming lady, and all the good folk wandering about, yet brings a smile to my lips.

Notice I did your conversations with our fledgling Calontiri. Making to feel welcome one of our new members is a great gift to our kingdom. I doubt not that your welcome to her will be a fond memory.

The tournaments and ceremonies upon the lawns, the shades along the perimeter, the banners and flags and pennons on high, the stream of food, the traders and tradesmen selling their wares, the glorious comfort of the cool hall all contributed to a splendid event.

Glad I was when Their Most Royal Majesties, Anton and Yseult, chose to honor many of Their Populace during court. Your own Lady given the right to bear Arms, Lady Adelaide granted the Cross of Calontir for her endeavors and tasks, Mistress Giraude recognized for her contributions to the girth of the kingdom, John Bowyer invited into the Order of the Chivalry, and so many other good tidings I cannot recall them all.

To look upon your charming face, and that of your dear Lady in a time of peace and celebration was verily a treat indeed. I anticipate the time when you are able to enlighten me on the working of leather.

This missive has grown over long. I must needs end and find the comfort of my bed. I shall find a rider to carry this south upon the morrow.

Until when next we meet, I remain ever your friend.

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letters from the South
Written 19 July Anno Societatus LIV
Being 2019 of the Common Era

Unto Chozek does Nesscia send dearest greetings.

I have traversed the long miles to arrive this day into the southern reaches of my fair kingdom.

Worried I have been with the horses trudging the miles in the searing heat which has held sway these recent weeks o’er the lands. Water in plenty we carried for there are many long stretches between where we normally find our ease.

Upon our arrival, I felt greatly relieved that I had to push them no further.

Their Majesties are holding a grand celebration of the Arts and Sciences here in Their charming Shire of Oakheart. They wish to pick a Champion to show off the grandeur which is Calontir.

I have worked in secret on a project with which to present to the judges. I fear I have not the skills to try for grand champion. Though in my heart I hope that my art may please our Rainbow Queen, Yseult, and She may have a kind word for me.

For in the end, my project will be a gift for one of my countrywoman. It would please me if I had our Queen’s smile upon it when I present it to my friend.

As I look around, methinks there is a grand gathering at the local monastery as there are robed friars and priests and nuns aplenty walking about. I fear for my very soul that I shall do or say something and be condemned to suffer in purgatory over long for a misstep.

I write this note quickly, and will send it on its way with a messenger to your high kingdom, to make its way to your estate. My room at the local inn shall soon be ready, and I must attend to my belongings and be out of the way.

It is my fondest wish to visit with you, and look upon your beauteous countenance. Mayhap it won’t be long.

Until that time, I remain ever your friend.

Nesscia inghean Chearnaigh

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Written this 17th day of March, AS LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

Dear Sweet Roise,

On this feast day of Saint Patrick, I have at long last arrived to my estates in the Hills of Ponca.

When last we parted, we both looked to the highways intent on return to our own country far to the north of the recently ended War of the Gulf.

Your company and agreeable disposition was ever a comfort to me during our time in those southern lands of Gleann Abhann.

Well pleased am I to have made your acquaintance with our good countrywoman, Mathilde. As she spoke of bread baking and shared her secrets, your elation outspread to all within earshot of your voice. My mouth waters recalling the toothsome taste, and anticipate when next you bake and I am close at hand.

You may recall my scathed ankle which received injury. You asked after it when we parted. Alas, it vexes me yet. A kind gentle known to me practices leechcraft and if it becomes wearisome, I shall seek her aid. I trust when next we meet, my stars shall be aligned once again.

Fie! The calamitous flooding in the northern territories of Calontir indeed brings fearsome worry to my mind.

As I drove my wagon north, many of the highways and bridges failed. I turned more oft to the byroads and smaller laneways, all crowded with wagons and carts also searching for safe passage. At long last I turned my wagon onto the lane leading to my own estate. Fortunate I was to pass unscathed with wheels intact. My good husband and untiring countrymen will labor many weeks to make the roadways safe again for passage.

My heart rejoiced upon learning our kith and kin and countyfolk hereabouts all remain safe and warm and dry. Alas, many of the livestock and cattle and beasts are lost to the waters. Long will be the travails which lie ahead for the countryside to return to our customary state.

I pray you arrived safely to your own estates and you and yours remain shielded from danger.

My friend, I must needs put aside pen and parchment, for my bed calls to me to rest these weary old bones. Indeed, as I recall my time with you and your sweet smile, my spirit warms.

Ever I look to times we may visit again.

Until that time, I remain your friend,

Nesscia

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Written this 15th day of March, AS LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

My Dear Vashti,

The war’s end draws nigh and the encampments begin to pack up and turn their wains and wagons toward their homelands. Long faretheewells and pledges to visit echo from tent to tent. Many an elbow shall be bent this night and many headaches in the morn.

The ephemeral merchants and smiths and taverns so recently sprung, swiftly fade into memory as they move on to more lucrative possibilities. Many of our countryfolk have been glad for the opportunity to obtain the exotic goods available from the trade caravans. Admittedly, I too found the temptation too great, and procured fabrics and silks for gifts and clothing and weaving and embroidery.

I have heard it told that this day, the Ides of March, bodes ill, I say nay, tis not! For the mention of the Calontir Army forever more strikes fear in the hearts of every foe! So well did our warriors fight that all from mighty King to common soldier received salutes from every quarter. Truely a wonder to behold.

Your Cian fought well, and remains unscathed from this southern war. He shall soon return to you, rest assured.

Rumor has reached my ears Calontir’s northern borders flood in the spring thaws. My own estates have been surrounded. I trust afore I draw nigh, the waters recede and the passages clear.

Good fortune smiles upon me, as many good gentles along my way are known to me. I shall have good company and warm lodgings should the way remain blocked and my return delayed.
Therefore, upon the morrow, I shall finish packing my own wagon and set out north for my own estates.

I pray the time is not over long before our paths cross once more and we may sit side by side and visit again.

As ever, I remain your friend,

Nesscia

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letter from Gulf War
Written this 14th day of March, AS LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

My dearest friend, Cristina,

Ever do you bring light to my heart! Your most welcome missive was delivered to my hand and I read it under the stars by lamp light. By the end of the reading my eyes were wet. From your words or the smoke of the lamp, I know not which.

The movements of rain and wind and snow are a mystery, are they not? By your words to me they indeed remain beyond my ken. Yet truly does my heart gladden to hear the spring planting is anon.

The pottage and salates and tasty bits from your kitchens ever fill me with warmth and delight!

A recent missive from my good husband informed of the trials of the recent storms. The cellars have flooded and the roads have become impassable. Your news brings hope that his exertion and travails will be fruitful.

The conflict here in these southern lands continue. Our fighters and archers and all our kith and kin represent our kingdom well. Their chivalry and behavior and consideration of others continue unparalleled amongst the people of the known world.

Daily, my skill with needle and thread are put to use mending tunics or sewing bandages. Alas, my cooking skills are limited to fire starting and tending, though more oft than not, is enough to buy my dinner.

Well aware am I of your concern for my well being when I journey on campaign and you do not. Worry not for me, as I have been welcome in every camp and gathering. Kind Baroness Sung and Baron Uldin of Vatavia especially bring me in and assure I eat with others rather than alone in my wagon.

I miss you, my friend. My heart is set, when I return to our own lands, upon sitting in your gardens near your new pond, in the sunshine, sharing tales of our adventures and bending the elbow together.

Until that time,
Nesscia

Image from Huntington Library Ms HM 60, f°7, 15th C.

Letters From Home:

To the most knowledgeable Mistress Nesscia inghean Chearnaigh does your humble friend Cristina send greetings and glad tidings of spring from the lands of the Lonely Tower.

Dear friend what strange times are these. My dearest hope is that this missive finds you ere you arrive home–thusly lessening the shock that may wrack your being.

Not a fortnight ago, upon your leaving our fair lands, did a winter storm take hold and coat all far and wide in a thick blanket of snow and ice. Winds so cold as to cause the flesh of my hands to whiten within moments dare I venture out of doors without gloves. Grateful we were for solid walls and a strong hearth.

But, just the other night, I swore I heard rain pouring down from the heavens. And lo, when I awoke, the sun was shining!

Mysterious movements of wind, rain, and sun are not why I write to you though, precious friend. Today, the snow melted from my pottage field. Truth, I mislead you not. If I were to see my precious herbals springing forth from the earth within the week I would no longer feel surprise.

Spring, oh that long lost pleasure! Do not doubt that green will be your fields upon your return. Look not for the snowy hills and icy peaks for they will shortly have vanished. Seek instead the sprouting knolls and flowering meadows of a new season.

Forthwith I will be planting the beans and other pulses, greens for glorious salates, and some of the new plants discovered on our mutual journeys. To see the small leaves of seedlings does give me hope. Surely your kind husband will be sowing the fields soon as well–spring mud notwithstanding.

Fairer still, I have convinced my good husband to sacrifice a small part of the field to a new pond. My fervent hope is to lure the toads and birds in close to remove those horrid vermin that have wreaked such havoc on my garden previously. You remember them, I trust, those bilious green spotted beasties especially. A few fish found from a nearby stream will aid in averting nasty biting insects too, I dream. What fun it will be!

Mayhap we can sit in the sun soon and share stories of travels and friends.
So missed you have been over this long, cold season. Your infectious laugh and smiling countenance are longed for overmuch. Be safe on the roads home to us.

Til next we meet, I will remain your stalwart friend.