Chapter 14:

[Rebecca Talon]

Portland Protective Association
North America
Formerly Oregon
June 5, 2011
Change Year 13

Lord Admiral Rebecca Sandoval stood on fo'c'sle deck of the USS Erebus, a three masted square rigged frigate. Gliding silently beside and slightly behind the Erebus on the choppy Columbia River was her sister ship the USS Tigris.

Both ships flew the ensign of Republic of Galveston, a blue field with 50 white stars from the main mast. The Republic's naval jack, a flag with thirteen alternating red and white stripes with an un-coiled rattlesnake with the words "Don't tread on me" in bold black letters along the bottom white stripe, flew from the bows of the two ships.

Navy sailors worked the lines while marines of the 3rd Battalion stood in rigid ranks along the railings with their crossbows at the ready position. Their conical Norse style helms gleamed under a rate Pacific-Northwest sun. Their brigantines of overlapping strips of sheet steel over leather were painted in browns and greens. The armor was worn over a navy blue wool gambeson tailored with an upright collar and crimson piping. On their belts were single edged cutlasses. It was a plain in design with a simple brass basket hilt.

The docks were lined with curious onlookers as the two warships slid slowly by. The dockworkers were skilled in their trade and it wasn't long before the two warships were securely moored, and Rebecca and her officers were met by a man whose face had been weathered from years of being out to sea.

"I am George Devos, foreman for the Port of Portland," he greeted.

"Lord Admiral Rebecca Sandoval of the Republic of Galveston," Rebecca greeted with an archaic bow and sweep of her bi-corn hat.

"Galveston? I didn't know any civilization from the interior had survived the change. Though, we have heard rumors that Iowa survived."

"It did," Rebecca replied, "and very well too."

"There's twenty gold per ship docking fee, but we can exchange the equivalent in other goods."

Rebecca nodded, "I'll leave that to my supply officer Commander Miller."

At the mention of her name Commander Miller looked up from her clipboard, “Yes ma'am. Of course ma'am."

"What have we here," a cold female voice interpreted. "More English interlopers?"

The Forman went pale, "Uh... no my lady. They are from Texas."

The woman looked Rebecca over from head to toe sizing her up from the gold laced bicorn hat to the long navy officer coat over buff trousers tucked into tall black leather boots.

Rebecca did the same noticing the short Paige boy blonde hair. The noble woman was lean, and moved with the skill and grace of a tiger. She worn a black tunic with the arms of her house: a delta or over an argent V. She wore a knight's long sword with several silver notches embedded into the well worn hilt. This was a very dangerous woman, Rebecca concluded.

"Lord Admiral Rebecca Sandoval. Your servant ma'am," Rebecca said with a bow of her head. The archaic greeting had gripped the Republic as the romanticism of the 18th century had permeated their society.

The noble woman responded in kind by sweeping off her Montero hat and bowing in return, "Lady d'Ath, Tiffane Rutherford, baroness of Ath."

"That's a mouthful Lady d'Ath," Rebecca replied.

"We do like our titles here. Welcome to the Portland Protective Association where everything is a Ren-fair nightmare, except you don't wake up from it."

Rebecca laughed, “I can relate. I'm stuck in the nightmare of Horatio Hornblower."

Tiffane laughed in return. "What is your business here?"

"Exploration mostly,” Rebecca replied honestly. “We’re seeking out survivors and making contact. We’re looking to trade if we can. There are certain things that just aren't available to us in south Texas.”

“You’re trade is welcome here. You are former military aren’t you?” Tiffane asked.

Rebecca shrugged, “US Navy. We were founded by mostly Navy right after the change. Either from my ship or what was left at Norfolk Naval Base.”

“Norfolk?” Tiffane asked with a raised eyebrow. “How did you get to Texas?”

Rebecca smirked, “I stole the USS Constitution. These ships, the Erebus and Tigris, are patterned off of Old Ironsides.”

“Aw there they are,” Tiffane said as a girl and boy approached escorted by a pair of men-at-arms wearing half armor. They were both about the same age in their early teens. The girl was unremarkable wearing a pale blue cotehardie dress. Her long seal brown hair fell over her shoulders to her belt, with held an ornate gold dagger.

The boy on the other hand was striking. With his square jaw, piercing eyes and mop of shaggy red hair he held the promise of being a very handsome man when he had finished growing. He wore a kilt with a plaid over a simple linen shirt. At his waist was a sporran and plain steel dagger.

“Lord Admiral, may I introduce you to Princess Matilda Arminger heir to the Portland Protective Association, and Rudy McKenzie tanist of the Clan McKenzie.”

Rudy had a grin that was instantly disarming, “Merry met Lord Admiral,” he greeted with the accent of his mother’s Irish lilt, legacy of a maternal grandmother.

Matilda bowed, “My mother, the Lady Regent, would love to meet with you and discuss your arrival.”

“Of course,” Rebecca said diplomatically.

Castle Trodenangst
Formerly Oregon
June 6, 2011
Change Year

It was a decently good sized party that approached Castle Trodenangst which was made up of the PPA’s black armored Royal Guard, that was attached to protect the Princess, and the men-at-arms of Barony Ath all wearing burnished full plate armor with colorful pennants streaming from the tips of their lances.

The Galveston Marines brought up the rear with their crossbows slung over their shoulders. They were rediculusly lightly armored in comparison with their conical nasal helms and light brigantines. Rudy had mentioned that his own people used similar armor.

Rudy reigned his black mare and rode alongside Rebecca, “They like to put on airs, but most of them aren’t so bad.” He shifted in the saddle with a low tone, “But be careful of Matty’s mother. They call her the Spider of the Silver Tower, and Lady d’Ath was her personal assassin for years.”

“So, you Mackenzies are allies with this PPA?”

“No… well yes. Not exactly to be sure. It’s complicated sure as it is. My birth father, Lord of the Bear Killers, and Matty’s father killed each other in the last battle of the War of the Eye. Norman Arminger was a right bastard, and his wife Sandra is no saint either. It is said there are bones of the slaves that built that castle buried in its walls, and I belive it. So allies… let’s just call it uneasy friends sure and it is.”

Rebecca nodded, “So what does that make you? A diplomatic envoy?”


“That was part of the treaty to end the war. For half the year I live in the PPA, and the other half Matty lives with us at Dun Juniper.”

“Does that mean the Baroness is your jailer,” Rebecca asked amused with the kid.

Rudy shrugged, “Maybe and perhaps, but she’s many things. There is no deadlier person with a sword than Tiphaine Rutherford, and she trains both me and the princess.”