Conrad stood against the wall, leaning slightly into it for support, but not enough to be noticed should someone pass by. At the first sound of feet, he could straighten up and stand at full attention, but since there was nobody near, he figured that leaning back a bit would be no problem. He would be just as ready to react should something happen, whether he was standing up straight or leaning against a wall. He closed his eyes for a moment and stretched his neck. It was stiff from wearing that silly fencing mask this morning. Stupid tradition, he had learned his sword fighting without masks or anything, just a pair of sticks and the bruising had been a good teacher. The helmet just felt ridiculous and made him develop an itch just where his jaw ended into his neck. He cursed softly under his breath and began rolling his head along his shoulders with a sigh. Stupid tradition, pups should learn to keep their face from not getting hit, not wear masks.

He moved his head from side to side for a moment, trying to get his neck out of the lock it had gotten in since morning. The standing around had not helped either, but a job was a job. He had a contract and he would perform it. Conrad felt the hat on his head move to the side he was leaning to and quickly snapped his hand out to catch it. He quickly settled the black beret back on his head, straightening the white feather once it was back where it belonged. Conrad still was a Landsknecht in some ways and clothing was one of them. His brigandine was the colour of blood and the rivets that held the steel plates were gilded until they had the colour of brass, gleaming in the light. His trousers were black as night, just like his boots who had been polished well enough to see reflections in them. The sword at his side was the only contradiction to his polished appearance, it was not the sabre or the rapier that most men would wear, but a heavy Katzbalger. It was a workman’s sword, with an figure eight-shaped guard and a broad blade that was no-nonsense. A relic from his warring days, but one he still cherished. He laid his hand around the grip, formed to his hands as the leather was and continued leaning into the wall with his eyes closed, but ears attentive.

When he heard the soft sound of footsteps in the distance, he straightened. Standing upright with his eyes opened and attentive, his hand resting lightly on the grip of his sword. He was the captain of the guard, he needed to look the part...

Lady Victoria Carstairs was dressed in her simplest. The plain red color showed she was not just a random courtier, but she was related to the Pemberton Duke and Duchess. In fact, they were her aunt and uncle. The soft pink roses stitched into her bodice matched the color that appeared on her fair face when she was in a good mood. Lifting one hand, Victoria felt to make sure that her wire hair net held the top layers of her hair nicely. She then slid her hand down a curl that lay loosely on her shoulder. Her green eyes held a glint of merriment in them as she made her way down the halls of the Roseworth manor.

Victoria had just come from the kitchens. She had a basket handle draped over her arm; a sweet aroma warning of her approach. Her smile knew just the reaction this treat could have on people. Victoria enjoyed sharing this particular secret with any one, almost as much as she enjoyed making it and eating it herself. Her green eyes were alight, the childish excitement barely contained. She was like her late Aunt Esabell in that sense, when excited it was hard not to show it.

Most of the guards she had seen, as usual, she just gave a friendly nod to, but there was one in particular she stopped in front of. "Captain Schneider," she smiled at him, stepping up closer. She could tell the man was a bit bored. But she admired his dedication to his job. She always felt safer knowing that he was there to keep her and her family protected. "Mind some company, Captain? I have cinnamon rolls that I would not mind sharing, as well."

When Conrad had his eyes still closed, he could’ve sworn that he smelled a sweet fragrance that he could almost put his finger on. A bit spicy, but sweet nonetheless, mouth-watering to excess. He had a soldier’s nose where food was concerned, which meant that he could smell it at quite a distance. If rations were getting short, you learned that finding food was important and found some ways to do it. Conrad tended to follow his nose, it worked out alright. An army marches on its stomach and though the former Landsknecht wasn’t marching, his body still had the same reflexes as back then, the good and the bad.

When he opened his eyes though, he saw that food was indeed moving his way and that it wasn’t just a waft coming from down in the manor’s kitchen. It was lady Carstairs, the young niece of His and Her lordship. He had heard she liked cooking, but if the scents were any indication, she didn’t only love it, but was also very good at it. He sniffed a bit deeper, his nostrils moving slightly to let more of that delicious aroma drift in, trying to decide what he was smelling. The lady slowed her pace as she came closer though and he washed all thought of what he was smelling from his mind, snapping fully to attention.

"Captain Schneider,”

He saluted with a smart move of his left hand, his right hand staying rested on the pommel of his blade, like he had learned in the military and looked straight at her, his brownish-green eyes clear.

”At your service, milady.”

She smiled at him and walked a little closer, not so close that she was invading his personal space or that it could be considered inappropriate, but closer than he was used to anyway. He didn’t move from his new position, like he was supposed to, stand rigid and look calm, immobile yet ready to spring in action.

Mind some company, Captain? I have cinnamon rolls that I would not mind sharing, as well."

He relaxed then, smiling. Company was always nice on these boring watches. Chances that something actually happened were small, his guards were well trained and he would trust them with his life. The chance that something got past them, to get near where he stood on guard were virtually non-existent, but there always was a small chance, so still he watched. A little company to alleviate the boredom however and a cinnamon roll didn’t sound that bad. Hell, even if he hadn’t welcomed them, the smells of those delightful treats would’ve given him pause. He nodded.

”Sure, I wouldn’t mind some company, milady and those rolls smell delicious.”

Victoria saw how this man seemed to be intent on sticking to his work, even as she had already started to talk to him. She admired him for it, knowing he was not ignoring her in the least, but watching out for her safety. Here was a man whom she could count on protecting her, even if he only did so to be paid. Victoria would not, however, let this man's job prevent him from having a sweet moment.

Victoria grinned when the man eased into his own smile, and accepted her offer. His compliment about the smell of the rolls made Victoria blush, though she had heard those words many times before. "Here, try one. I made them myself." She lifted the cloth from the top of the basket, and held it up, offering him to take one. The sweet frosting that covered them has melted slightly down the sides of the still warm rolls, and Victoria heard her stomach growl for one. After Conrad took his, Victoria would take one for herself.

She propped herself up against the wall, standing next to him, watching the empty hall. "Captain, do tell me that you have not been standing here, in this spot, alone all day." She knew that it must be boring, and tiring to stand around, watching people go by, waiting for something to happen, when usually nothing did. Though he probably got a little relief from the gossip he was sure to have picked up bits and pieces of. She knew that courtiers were some times amusing to watch. She herself was not excluded from this. As she waited for a reply, she took a bite of her cinnamon roll, careful not to get frosting on her nose.

Conrad had to admit that it was a nice variation on his usual guard routine. Normally, the courtiers and the gentry seemed intent upon ignoring him as much as possible, figuring that as long as he stood silent like a statue, he might as well be treated like a statue. The Limburger didn’t mind, let them ignore him, but the day they needed him he would not be ignored. He was just as essential to the building as the stones of the mansion itself, so let them ignore him, he knew exactly what his might was.

It was a nice change though, that one of the blood decided not just to wait a moment to have a short conversation, but even offer him something to eat. Affection went to the stomach, which incidentally was the way to Conrad’s heart. He smiled when she held up the basket.

"Here, try one. I made them myself."

She lifted the cloth from the top of the basket and Conrad was met with a sight that certainly was mouth-watering. A collection of rolls lying in neat little rows, the frosting gleaming back wetly, fresh from the oven these beauties were. He unconsciously licked his lips and reached out a hand, when he suddenly heard the lady’s stomach growl. He smiled slightly, seemed even though she had made them herself, they had the same allure to her as they held to him. Nobles had to eat too, he carefully picked up one of the warm rolls, trying to keep the frosting of his fingers as much as possible. He watched her calmly as she leant into the wall herself, beginning to fish around the basket carefully. Conrad took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the warm, sweet taste, first the cinnamon with it’s warm spicy afterglow and then the rush of sugar…

"Captain, do tell me that you have not been standing here, in this spot, alone all day."

He shook his head, putting a finger of his free hand to his mouth to signal that he’d answer as soon as he had finished this bite. Conrad didn’t rush, this was too good to rush, but speeded up his process of chewing and swallowing a little.

”No milady, not all day. I took the boys out for some training this morning and had lunch…”

He took another small bite and munched it down. He had taken out his guards to train on how to counter the light, swift blade of the foil and rapier, the weapons of the courtier in this day and age. It was important that they knew this, for the highborn were just as much or even more prone to crime. Not the kind of crime that the guards usually had to deal with, drunk men or thieves with only knives, but murder or intrigue. It was important that his boys knew how to at least stay alive longer than three seconds.

”I’ve been standing here since lunch and I’m quite happy that all I had to do up until now was standing.”

He took another bite and smiled, it was only when his job became interesting that it was bad. This job was supposed to be dull, as long as it stayed dull all was good.

Victoria nibbled more at her cinnamon roll as the Captain savored his bite. It pleased Victoria that her cinnamon rolls were that loved. She knew how the cooks must feel when some one really likes one of their dishes. This treat was one that her father and her governess had helped her perfect, and she was quite proud of the way people loved them.

Conrad speaking brought her back to the topic at hand. "I thank you for that then. I know that they get better at what they do every time to train them something new." She smiled up at him, very sincere about what she was saying. Had her family not made a contract with this man, surely they would have so many more problems to deal with in their lives.

Then something surprised her, about what he said. "You actually like doing even the boring part of your job?" Her questioning voice was one of slight surprise and full of curiosity. She found it hard to believe that this would be a part of his job to actually look forward to. She looked to her roll that was more than halfway gone already, took a bite, and then looked back up at him. How could that be?

Conrad felt the sweet rush of sugar in his blood already and thought that he must’ve done something right somewhere along the way to deserve something as divine as this. He closed his eyes momentarily again as he took another bite. He hoped he didn’t do too many things right then, because delicious as this was, if he didn’t watch out he’d be building quite a stomach. Soft living, a taste for good wine and food and lack of marching would do that to you. Still, a man needed some vice to die from. Die in peace that was. He suddenly remembered that he hadn’t thanked the lady for her gift yet…bad Conrad, prioritize man. Head first, stomach second.

”Thank you for the sweet roll ma’am, it tastes even better than it smelled.”

She turned towards him with a smile after he had told her how he spent his day.

"I thank you for that then. I know that they get better at what they do every time to train them something new."

He nodded calmly, adaptation and training, improvement. Words a guard should carve into the inside of his eye-lids, for him to read at every turn and during every time of rest. A guard should be ready for anything, constantly bettering himself, should know the newest ways to fight and be able to wield all weapons he could come across. He should be able to fight with his fists, sword, knife and gun…He should be perfect, but the rule was that he never was…And therefore he should train and be trained…She looked at him in surprise, her eyes quite wide in question.


"You actually like doing even the boring part of your job?"

He shook his head calmly, smiling and licking a bit of the frosting from his fingers as he did so. He didn’t like it, but he enjoyed the fact that it was there, as contradicting that might sound.

”I don’t like it, but in my job excitement means that the people I have sworn to protect are in danger…and that my neck is on the line too. Intoxicating as it may be, I choose to prefer boredom to that.”

You are welcome, Captain Schneider. I am gald that you like it." She found that was was rather proud of herself at the moment. She had managed to put a smile on this man's usually stern face. Just by being there, and handing him a cinnamon roll. If the old saying was true, then she knew for sure how to win the heart of any man, through his stomach.

Victoria neared the end of her cinnamon roll as he finished answering her question. Now she understood. With a slight musical laugh, she responded to him. "In that case, I think that I much prefer you to be bored too. I do not like the sound of being in danger, either." Her father had taught her to portect herself well enough, but Victoria knew that if some one were really trying to hurt her, her best defense was this man right here. If it meant that he had to stay bored for days on end just so that he would be there at the right time for her, she would question it no more.

As she finished the last bite of her roll, Victoria changed the topic again. "Do you mind if I ask you about your life outside your job?" She did not want to start to pry if the man did not want to talk about it. That would be rude. However, she hoped he would not mind. He knew more about her than she did him, so she wanted to level the field a bit. What could it hurt, right?

Conrad finished the last of his sweet roll. Many people said that he ate too fast, that it was bad for his digestion and didn’t look really…educated. But then again, Conrad wasn’t. He was a man of the sword, used to eating what he got with his hands and a knife drawn from his boot. That and he had been raised in both the army and a big family, which were essentially the same thing. The man at your side was closer than your brother and the gunners that rained death and destruction on the men trying to kill you were your guardians. But in both those places, there had been many mouths to fill and what is already eaten cannot be stolen. So you ate fast, then at least you had something inside you. Too bad that those things tended to remain in practise even when you were alone and big enough to guard your dinner, lunch and the like.

“You are welcome, Captain Schneider. I am glad that you like it."

He gave her a thanking smile, licking the last bits of frosting and cover from his fingers. He had indeed enjoyed it, too bad that it was gone now. But all good things must end, too soon perhaps, but that was why they were good things. It were the bad things that never seemed to end, but even in that there was a form of comfort. They did, in the end. Patience and you would outlast.

"In that case, I think that I much prefer you to be bored too. I do not like the sound of being in danger, either."

He shrugged and looked at the distance where the hall curved away, behind which a flight of stairs led downwards. Then to the right, where again the hall ended, in a door this time. He missed the thrill though, the danger just before the charge, the feeling that your heart soared. Just as the crash of gunfire and collision sounded, your two hands clenched around the leather-bound grip of the Beidehänder, your longs filled with a fire that called you to roar…It was an intoxication, gruesome, but intoxicating as you seared through wood, steel, flesh and bone. Conrad wasn’t proud of that feeling, but he knew he wasn’t alone with it. He didn’t like killing, but he liked fighting…He gave her a kind smile.

”Oh, but you are milady, always. All of us are, but that’s why there are men like me to fend of those dangers we can be guarded from.” He looked at her straight, tapping one finger to his temple. ”And we might all be in danger, but a smart person takes only those risks he presumes worth it.”

It was like a general that only struck when it was necessary or worth it, like the merchant that invested where he thought it would be rewarded, the hunter aimed and shot when he was sure the arrow could be retrieved or the prey would die. Chances were God’s decision, but men could decide the possible outcome by preparation, planning and swift thinking. He hoped she would do well, because one day, she would play the most bloody game of all. Politics, where even not playing was considered an action.

"Do you mind if I ask you about your life outside your job?"

What was there to tell? Not much and though that sometimes bothered him, especially late at night, when sleep did not come to him like it usually did and the ceiling forced thoughts right into his head, but there was no dishonour in not having a legacy past those you protected and served.
”Not much to tell, milady. I live in the manor, have my own quarters, no family to care for, aside my brothers in arms. I sometimes have a drink in the inn on the crossroad of Chapel Drive and Rose street and I go to church every few weeks. Outside of that, not much that I can call life outside my job.” He shrugged. ”Perhaps my job is my life, which might be just as well, because it might day cost my life.”

Victoria stuck her fingers in her mouth, one by one. She sucked every little taste of cinnamon and sugar off, slowly. A content look held her eyes as she found pure bliss in the remains of her little snack. She knew that if she had died right then, she would have died a happy girl. There was never any danger in a treat that you made yourself, so Victoria felt this moment could not be any more perfect.

As usual, that moment was short lived. With a finger still in her mouth Victoria frove, and looked wide eyed up at Conrad. She had never truly stopped to think about that. He was right, she was always in danger, every one was. She thought more about that idea, and the idea of risk. Every step in life was a risk. There are so many ways things could go wrong. So many chances for one to get hurt, or worse. So many times that any one could come in here and cause problems for her, or any one else. Now she was truly thankful that she had Captain Schneider and the rest of the guard there to protect her. Her eyes slowly went from afraid to thankful, and understanding.

As she finished getting all the frosting off her fingers he told her about how his job was pretty much his life. She knew there had to be more than that to this Captain. A man like him surely had to have something about him worth telling. He had no real family now, but that is not to say he had not had family before. A man of his age he could surely have children her own age. There had to be a good reason if he did not. "Surely you have an interesting past then? Your life could not have always been as boring as waiting for something to happen. Though, I thank you a million times over for being here."

Conrad was happy to have something in his stomach now, sure he had had lunch like any man, but that food had cooled down already and the feeling of something warm sliding down your throat was one of those simple sensations that he still cherished. Just like he loved the feeling of a cool pint of beer or burning glass of Schnapps sliding down that same direction. He was a simple man in that way, simple and straightforward. Sure, there was a little regret that the food was gone already, but good things have to end, otherwise you’d get bored with them.

His protégé and occasional benefactor froze and Conrad’s hand immediately went for his sword again, his eyes leaving hers and scanning the entire surroundings before he made the link between her eyes and his previous statement. The hall seemed to be clear anyway, he let go of the hilt of his still sheathed sword, hoping he hadn’t startled her too much.

”Sorry, professional flaw there…”

His voice was a little ashamed, he shouldn’t have gone for his sword that fast, but like he had said, professional flaw. You could only guard so long until you became a little jumpy. A little quick to wave that sword around, but he wasn’t paranoid yet. His logic was still strong and the signs he saw were still valid. He had just taken her fear for what he said for fear for the tangible. The fear seemed to have gone away though, replaced by something that seemed comfort and gratitude. He responded with a small smile.

"Surely you have an interesting past then? Your life could not have always been as boring as waiting for something to happen. Though, I thank you a million times over for being here."

An interesting past? Not waiting for something to happen? Wasn’t all life waiting for something to happen? For death? Sure, people weren’t exactly waiting, but it waited for them at the end of the path, where it became a clearing. Conrad didn’t suppose his life was all that interesting, but then again, only another might decide that. What was interesting was strange, something you knew wasn’t that interesting. He chuckled.

”No charge, Milady. I don’t usually tell my life story without a pint of beer, but if you’re either bored or interested, I could give you a short version of what I think of as a normal life.”

Victoria's gaze flashed quickly about them, as Conrad reached for his sword. She had not thought that there was danger right at that second. Maybe he was just adding effect to his words. If it is what he had in mind, Victoria got the point. She would be ever the more careful about things, but she would not let herself get to the point of paranoid. It took her a moment to make the connection with her and his reaction. Her fear of what he had said had been mistaken as fear of something more, and he was ready to protect her. She knew he was doing his job, and well. She was very thankful for it, as she looked back up at him. "I do not see that as a flaw, you are doing your job. Had it actually been something that need be worried for, you would have been ready."

She eyed the hilt of his sword, for a moment. "And do not think your sword scares me much, you would not be the first to draw one in my presence." She fell into memories of her father trying to teach her how to defend herself, in case they were attacked while traveling. She knew how, though she had not yet, thankfully, had to. Then there was the memory of the first and only time a weapon was drawn against her. The time she had tricked the man, who was now her uncle and Duke, into coming to a picnic, and she had tried to trap him. It had failed to do more that bruise and agitate him, at the time. But he had drawn his weapon, until he realized she was indeed that, a girl. And his soon to be wife's niece.

Victoria giggled a bit at his comment on her interest in his life. "A bit of both, I am afraid, Captain." Then he mentioned a "normal life". "Normal? I do not find that any thing in life is normal. There is usual, and average, but no one, and nothing is normal." Victoria bit her lip, stopping herself. She had often gotten into this topic with others. And, she knew how most looked on women who were too opinionated. She needed to keep such thoughts to herself. Not even share them with a diary. "But, not matter what you call it, I am a bit curious to hear what your life is, and has been, like."

He saw that her eyes had flown across the hall as quick as his own, searching just as carefully for the source of his disturbance, while actually the two of them were each others source. It was almost comedic in a way, but not much. Not much laughs to be had in his duty. She looked back at him and forgave him quietly.

"I do not see that as a flaw, you are doing your job. Had it actually been something that need be worried for, you would have been ready."

He bowed his head in both acceptance of the absolution and thanks for the compliment, glad that she didn’t mind. Most people were squeamish about the tools of his trade, the sword, the gun and the knife, sometimes the fists too. They wanted to be protected, but not bothered with the grubby details of death and blood. Understandable, most people liked their lives simple. They did their own business and left the other men theirs. It kept life easy, the gate of one’s mind barred. A guard however, could not afford such pleasantries. The devil was in the details and knowing them could just make you feel that little tinge of warning before hell broke loose.

"And do not think your sword scares me much, you would not be the first to draw one in my presence."

He raised an eyebrow, slowly, no more than a fraction of an inch, but stored that bit of info away while looking over. So, either she had been trained in the use of such, or someone had decided that the show of steel would be either necessary or useful. She had only used a rapier or light sabre in case of the first, her shoulders still slender and nothing of the physique of one who wielded heavier blades. In case of the second, he’d have to look into that. Nobody was supposed to wave swords and the like in the face of milady.

"A bit of both, I am afraid, Captain.”

He smiled, honest at least. He liked that in people. It didn’t matter, stories were a way to pass time and whether they were about dragons, saints or men themselves didn’t make a real difference. If she wanted to know who he was, more power to her, more understanding too. And in a world where there was so little understanding, a bit of it was worth so much.

"Normal? I do not find that any thing in life is normal. There is usual, and average, but no one, and nothing is normal. But, not matter what you call it, I am a bit curious to hear what your life is, and has been, like."

His smile widened, as did his surprise. Philosophy now? He had always thought milady a normal young lady of gentry, demure, shy and a bit giddy. Surprised and pleased, seemed she had a lot of promise.

”Granted, but normality is what one thinks of as usual and average, which is how most people see their lives.” He nodded calmly. ”As do I.”

He paused for a moment to think a bit, his eyes distant for a moment as he allowed himself to submerge into his own memories, the ring of the hammer, the sound of the flames, the smell of sooth and heated iron and sizzling steam. The sounds of home, long ago. Conrad still liked smithy’s, the comfort and certain beating of steel.
”I was born and grew up in the Low Countries, at the border of the Holy Roman Empire. My father was the town’s best smith and we were well off.” He smiled as he thought of his father, the broad shouldered bear of Limbourg, with a smile that was just as broad as his shoulders and a laugh just as rich as his beard. He felt a pang of regret of the years he had missed in the man’s company, but it was overshadowed by the joy they had had. ”He was a smart man, kind and patient too...And I was to inherit the shop and smithy...But that didn’t seem good enough for me.” He sighed warily and shrugged. ”I was young and the idea of toiling by the flames and my body covered in black sooth didn’t seem that alluring...There was no way out though, so I just kept going, learning the trade, hauling firewood and doing all the things I detested out of what I think was youthful arrogance.” He shrugged, to be young was to worry, to be ignorant and to think you weren’t. Or to be wise where the world wasn’t. He figured that he had not been the first and would not be the last, otherwise there wouldn’t be such a thing as recruiters for both young and old.

”But then, one day, men dressed in bright uniforms, with swords on their hips came to town. They offered good pay for every man who could see thunder, hear lightning and hold a pike with both hands. These were recruiters for the Landsknecht brigades…and young and foolish as I was I joined up.” He shuddered still as he remembered the chaos that had caused at home, the silent dismay of his father, the crying of his father, the yelling of his brother. It had been confusing, painful, but the deed was done and the accord irreversible…He sighed.

”So, there I marched off, a young fool brimming with passion for war and completely unaware of his own mortality. That’s the second best guy they can get and they put me in the front lines, handing me the Beidehänder, a big two-handed blade and allowed me to go soften up the foe…We marched straight in the Italian wars, towards the Battle of Pavia and beyond…First I walked with the mob, following my sergeants…then I became the one in the lead, guiding my boys through hell and back…Straight ‘till the end of those bloody wars on the peninsula…And then, when the war was over we were dropped like stones.” He smiled ruefully. ”The winds of war and peace. By then, I had enough money to buy myself a nice farm, or a shop in town, but before I even thought about settling down, I got the itch.” He thought about that inability to go without his sword, that inability to settle down. Always waiting, always watching…He had known better than many of his comrades, he didn’t try to force it, for he would fall to drink or worse if he did…

”There’s always a demand for veterans, especially former officers…It only took me some asking around to find a position here…” He smiled. ”And that’s about it. Hope I didn’t increase milady’s boredom.”