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Nesscia’s Missives: 14th of March, AS LIII

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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

Nesscia’s Missives: A Missive Received

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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.

Nesscia’s Missives: Missive from Gulf

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

Written this 12th day of March, AS LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

My Dear Solveig,

Your note arrived yester noontide. Thank you kindly for thinking of me.

I did see your new husband, Ivar, in the morning, he is indeed well and free of pestilence. Fear not for his well being, for he remains a great fighter and his stalwart companions of the sword unite together when battle comes.

King Donngal and Queen Catalina arrived on site after the blackguards waylaid Them on the long road south. Yester morn the Calon Host followed Them onto the field, where They gathered the populace for brief tidings. They spoke of Their deep gratitude to Calontir for providing for Them since Their trials of the road. The host cheered! for our Royals are safe once again.

Then Master Gawin arose and spoke of one of august talent and service, begging the boon for Master Alan to be awarded the Master of Defense! Great tidings!

Upon completion of court, Brian MacDougall hosted a cut & thrust tournament for all the assembled warriors. Such prowess and skill with the blade!

With the armies gathering and the nobility palavering of peace or war, the soldiers grow restless. Tournaments help sharpen skills and keep combatants from mischief.

While the armies prepare, the non fighters who have gathered also make ready. As well, a transient hamlet of canvas pavilions has sprung up of chapmen and peddlers and blacksmiths and inns. The common folk teach their trade and ply their wares. Fabrics and bijoux and tarts and bumpers and armor and weapons and all manner of niceties and fandangles are available for a price.

During our fleeting moments of leisure, oft times I wander the encampments with one or another of our countryfolk. Forsooth, seeing the vast array of gathered folks and learning new skills and tasting foriegn foods continues as a great entertainment to us.

At the time of returning to my wagon yester eve my weary old bones sought the comfort of my bedding. Upon waking, I lit a lantern and remained inside as to pen this missive.

Ah! I see the dawn breaking on the horizon, and harken the birdsong of the morn. I have tarried overlong thinking of our visits. I must needs put aside pen and parchment and begin my day.

I pray this missive finds you well, I shall send it off with one of the supply trains returning north. I look forward to when again we meet and I can look upon your fair countenance.

Until that time, I remain your friend,
Nesscia

Nesscia’s Missives: Letter from Gulf War

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

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

Dearest Brialen,

By lantern light, I set pen to parchment from the southern reaches of the Kingdom of Gleann Abhann. As you may know, many good gentles from around the known world gather here to defend against injustices and tyranny.

When word reached me that you join not our kith and kin on this southern campaign, I felt my spirits dampen. When far from home, to see your lovely smile brings joy to my heart. Though needs must some of our countryfolk remain home to watch o’re our fair lands and keep it safe from marauders and ruffians. Still, you shall be missed.

Alas! On the long journey south our Royal Majesties stopped at an inn to rest Themselves. They traveled not with entourage, preferring to travel simply and swiftly to the southernmost lands to join the CalonHost. While They bridled Their hunger and slaked Their thirst, some reavers absconded with Their wagons! Such an egregious rankle!

When last I heard, the sheriff had not yet apprehended the brigands. Word and watchmen have been dispatched far and wide in search of the wagons and rich raiments and crown jewels. Tidings of the insult traveled quickly across the miles and reached the muster point ahead of our King and Queen.

Most were outraged to hear of such a blatant affront against the royal family. Their Majesty’s Chamberlain, Mistress Gabriella, worked tirelessly to coordinate efforts on Their behalf.

Immediately, word was sent for fresh supplies and clothing. Swift tailors gathered goods and set needles to work. So many willing hands from around the known world to assist our beloved Crowns.

And just this very day the throngs from the kingdoms started to arrive. Hour after hour, I saw many of our countryfolk reach journey’s end in wagons and carts and wains. After tending to my own encampment, I did what I might to give assistance in the unloading and setting up.

Still, the Calon host has not yet fully mustered. Even as I write this missive, the pitching of tents and the pounding of stakes and the gathering of armies can be heard throughout the encampments. Though the sun has set, the wagons continue to roll through the gates.

As you know, I find canvas cover o’re my head unpleasant. I much prefer the hard sides and covering of my wagon, so I remain slightly apart from our kingdom’s encampment. As well, this area allows for passing quieter nights.

The hour grows late, my friend, and the lantern oil runs low. Upon the morrow, I shall send this off with a runner.
I pray you are well, and that we meet again soonest, by the grace of the gods.

Until then, I remain you friend,
Nesscia

Nesscia’s Missives: Traveling to Gulf War

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

Written this 8th day of March, AS LIII

Being 2019 of the Common Era
My Dear Tola,
My journey south continues. As you know, husband and I packed the wagon when King Donngal and Queen Catalina called Calontir to arms.
As we trekked south, though still cold, the green of the meadows and the early spring flowers made my heart glad. I know how the snows fly still in our homelands.
We saw many towns and villages along our route. With the air so chill, we took advantage of the inns along the way. We have stayed but one night in our wagon.
We tarried a few days in the new city of Orleans. I heard once the Count of Provence, Charles Anjou, mention the days before the eve of meat fast “the joyous days of carnival.” Indeed!
The last of the winter stores were heaped upon plates. The music and dancing spilled from the halls onto the streets. The good gentlefolk wore masks while men wore dresses and women wore trousers! Many exchanged trinkets and beads for a glimpse at what normally remains hidden! All in joyous celebration before our fourty day fast. Husband and I enjoyed the revelry knowing the toils of the battles ahead.
Then, alas, he departed for home. We knew at the onset of our journey he could not be gone over long from our estates. We left our landholding in capable hands, he had kibbled the grain for the livestock and fowl, he had laid in a stock of wood for the fires. Nonetheless, his mind is not easy when away from his own demesne.
So this very morn we said our farewells. He turned his way toward the north. Dare I say, he will fairly fly o’re the lands in his eagerness to see his home. And I, in my turn, will veer now towards the battles which lay ahead.
Your presence shall be missed, as I know well the responsibilities which keep you in your own shire. I shall lift a glass in your direction and drink to your continued good health.
Please do give Elspeth my warmest regards. And I pray that soon we shall bend the elbow together.
Ever I remain your friend,

Nesscia’s Missives: Traveling to Gulf War

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

Dated this second day of March
Anno Societatus LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

Dearest Kezia,

As you know, Our Most Royal Majesties Calontir travel to aid Their Southern Cousins in a fearsome campaign. They have called the populace to Them to lend support in Their time of need.

Eager to do my duty to Crown and Kingdom, I gathered supplies and packed my wagon. My good husband and I knew our estates were secure in the capable charge of the lead herdsman and manor caretaker and we prepared for our leave taking.

Though snow covered the hills and our breath billowed, the sun shone on the day of our departure. The horses pulled the wagon through the drifts to the main road and we made our way towards the south and east. At eventide, we found ourselves in the Shire of Standing Stones, and stayed at a small inn there. Though the wagon is comfortable, the air held the chill and we preferred the warmth of the inn.

Upon rising, heavily laden clouds stretched horizon to horizon. As we drove through the lands of Three Rivers, falling ice soon coated all we could see. I dare say, it reminded me of the sugar glaze cook drizzels on the sweet breads.

My dereling husband asked me to drive, as he tends to drive the horses too hard and we wanted to stay the course without incident. I am ever grateful for the shelter the enclosed wagon affords us.

The weather improved as our homelands fell behind and we came at last into the Kingdom of Meridies.

We arrived eventually to the lands near the Ville of Nash. There we sought succor from longtime friends. Once safe upon their estates, the men assessed the repairs needed to the wagon and worked vigilantly to ensure all was well before we went further towards the conflicts in the south.

At last we bid farewell, and started on our way again. We made a brief stop to purchase needed supplies, when fortune’s goddess brought to us other friends, Annalies and Gavan. We broke our fast with them, and though time was short, seeing her lovely countenance warmed my heart.

Upon our farewells, we again turned our wagon south.

The rumors of war reach us on our travels, and we are anxious to do what we can to lend aid. The conflict is yet some distance, and this night we found a red roofed inn within the boundaries of a small village in the Kingdom of Gleann Abhann.

I know how your heart longs to travel south with our countrymen and women. There are those who needs must assist those who stay behind and prepare the fibers and stitch the cloth. I, for my part, appreciate all you do in the staying. And I set pen to parchment to ease your mind from worry as to my wellbeing.

When morning comes, I will find a carrier to bring you this missive soonest. I pray this finds you and your good husband well and warm and secure in your estates.

Ever your friend,
Nesscia

Announcement – From the Lilies War Master Scheduler

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From Mistress Elasait:

Hello! I am the Lilies War master scheduler.

Except for RUSH classes and things directly to do with the Known World Historic Combat Studies Symposium, everything that appears on the war schedule goes through me.

  • Got a tourney you want to sponsor? Contact me!
  • Got a party you want to throw? Contact me!
  • Got a nifty idea for OAFish fun? Contact the OAFocrats first to get it cleared, and then contact me to get it on the schedule.

I can be reached via email at scheduler@lilieswar.org. While people are welcome to contact me via Facebook in order to ask questions or check if a particular day, time, or venue is available, it will need to come through my email in order to actually end up on the schedule. That gives me a reliable record of everything to check on.

I know lots of cool stuff is going to happen at Lilies, and my job is to make sure it’s on the schedule so people know about it, and to try and help people avoid conflicts like, oh, a Fyrd tourney up against a Fyrd meeting.   So, let me know what cool stuff you want me to schedule!

Please feel free to distribute this on local Facebook groups, etc.

Mistress Elasait ingen Diarmata

Select Videos of Performances at Queen’s Prize 2019

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Videos courtesy of Mathurin Kebusso

(Apologies to Elaisse de Garrigues; the video of your performance was lost)

These are clips of the complete performances.

Da’ud ibn al-Kabsh al-Garnati al- Mai’ez, called Maaz, “A hakawati style reading of stories and histories of Abd al-Rahman I”

 

 

 

Melanie de la Tour, “Musical Performance (voice and mandolin) of a John Dowland song, Awake Sweet Love”

 

 

 

Pádraigín an Ein i gh, “The Foulest Place of Mine Arse is Fairer Than Thine Face: Them’s Fighting Words, A Demonstration in Taboo Language”

PARENTAL WARNING:  This video contains adult language and themes. 

 

 

 

 

 

Nesscia’s Missives: Of Queen’s Prize Tournament

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

Letter from Home
February 10, AS LIII
Being 2019 of the Common Era

My Dear Cristina,

I pray your journey is at an end and this missive finds you again at your estates. I oft desire you to take wing as a bird and fly swiftly home so we may bend the elbow and tell tales of our adventures.

Indeed, I am tardy in setting pen to parchment. Ever do intentions go awry, as my fondest wish would have been to write this missive upon alighting from my wagon and the end of my day’s journey last evening.

With Her Populace readying for war, our Ever Gracious Queen Catalina looked around and understood, seeing tempers flare and worry upon the faces. She called a tournament of Artisans and Bards and Craftsfolk as a necessary diversion to calm hearts!

There gathered in the Shire of Lost Moor some 300 of the folk from around Calontir. Some to enter the Queen’s Tournament, some to judge Her entries, and some to learn and teach.

So many innovations and so much skill and such incredible beauty were on display!

Some from our own Barony of the Lonely Tower brought their crafts as well. Mine own brother William Radulfus, who paints so skillfully, brought his game boards. I made the hand signs for him throughout the day so he could understand the spoken word. Also Wulfþryð Maynes displayed a lovely hand sewn tunic she made for another. And Zafara Baabur learned wonderful needle work from the lands of Armenian and Croatia and showed her talent.

Their Most Royal Majesties went through the rooms seeing every craft put on view. Her Majesty spoke with every entrant, listening intently, and providing a gift for each from Her Own Hand.

At the end of the day, Their Majesties held Court so each participant could be recognized and given a token of appreciation.

Special recognition was given to Finán Mac Crimthainn by the judges. He made a wondrous blue pigment for the scribes to use. He made it from rock!

The populace at large gave special recognition to Tessie of Cum on Iolair for a wee babys cradle she wove from wooden strips. Her babes are truly fortunate to have such a talented mother.
And the Queen herself recognized Andromir Vukovic for learning the ancient way of making a Byzantine lamp to bring light to the darkness of night.

You know well the simplicity of the clothing I make. Yet, ever am I pleased with the results, and brought the garb I recently completed for our good friend Astrid Esbjornsdotter. I shall have to see the priest and confess my sin of pride, for many of our countryfolk mentioned the quality of my workmanship.

The day was long and cold. I departed my estates ere the sun rose with my breath cloudy in the air. When I returned t’was after the sun had set and my breath still clouded the air.

I know not if it was from the evil passed hand to hand when the populace gathers or if it is from the broth from the inn or all the delicacies I tasted throughout the day or mayhaps a misalignment of the stars. During my drive home, I could feel my humors were off. By the time I arrived back to my home, I took to my bed straight away. Upon arising this morn I am little better, though I pray my humors are balanced again soonest.

Nonetheless, glad I am knowing of our visit this coming week, and I trust you are settling well back at your estates.

Until the appointed time, I remain ever your friend,

Nesscia