Death of Raymond, 2040

[Vikenz 1162]

 

A Missive by the

House de Rouen

 

Disseminated among all the Lords of the Imperium

 

Let it be known to all those faithful of the Holy Imperium that the young Lord Raymond Thibaud, heir of the Rouennais as firstborn son of The Archduke of Drusco, hath in the early year of 2040 perished.

 

Whilst riding forth with his father’s retinue upon the wooded slopes of the Druscanland, the young lord, strong of limb, keen of eye, and beloved of all, was laid low from his steed by a grievous mishap. There, amidst broken undergrowth and damp earth, a wound was taken, deep and unseen beneath the flesh. Seven days later and sans nary sign nor symptom, this fester did turn sour, and fever consumed, his hand held fast unto the cloth of his Solar gambeson as he breathed his final breath into GOD’s hands.

 

All are bidden to mark the days of mourning for the brief but sharp light that was Lord Raymond. The Household de Rouen shall grieve privately in ancient Eshaenveurd custom, and later make public the urn of the ashburned heart preceding entombment. May St. Lucien keep him in his charge.

 

Raymond Thibaud

Ashford de Rouen

2029-2040

 

Penned under hand and seal at Waldemer Keep,
This 14th of Tobias’ Bounty in the year 2041.
By the grace of GOD and command of Archduke Roger de Rouen.

 

[pkdon 1977]

“Taken too soon, God rest his soul. I pray for you in these times, cousin.” Spoke the van Aert, riding with haste to Castle Waldemer

[sanriu 734]

"My lady!" Exclaimed a handmaiden, who handed the missive to Adelaide Emmeline, frowned at the missive as she briefly scanned it. "I must go see the Archduchess," She said hastily running down the corridors of Waldemer. "Such trying times have fallen upon our Castle.." She spoke wearily.

[Wavey 2568]

The Duke of Kvasz closed his eyes upon hearing the news. He signed the Hussariyan upon his chest before making his way to Drusco to give his friend his condolences. 

[_Sug 2809]

A young man, known as Damien Belcourt entered into the chapel below the keep, lighting a candle in reverence for the fallen heir.

[Radzig 747]

                                                         

He sat alone in the upper fields where the grass grew tall and stiff, overlooking the black silhouette of Waldemer. His knees were drawn up, his cloak tight around his frame, though he did not feel the cold. The upper fields were where the boys played at swords, where they'd fled chores and spied on hunts, where Raymond had once pulled him from a hornet's nest.

Raymond had lingered for a week, fevered and shrinking, the color drained from his face like dye from wet cloth. He had not spoken much, only breathed through his teeth and clutched the bedding in fits of pain. He thought of how the chamber had smelled, foul with sweat and the staleness of flesh not yet dead but already giving in. And then one morning, there was no breath at all. That shallow, wet hiss. That noise filled the night more than any wind.

Raymond lay in the cellars now, wrapped in cloth, at least oilcloth the morning after the boy's passing. Geoffrey had stood there too long, mother in tow, staring down, the flicker of torches on his brother's face making it seem like he might shift or blink. He'd signed a two-barred cross, a rosary, at his chest. The ladder of de Rouen bore one less rung.