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Post by Jenny on Apr 15, 2014 22:57:27 GMT -5
Serena’s head nodded lower and lower, until the jostle of the horse would case her to breathe in and force open her eyes. She felt like she could sleep forever. She could only think of sleep. Lord Blackwell had his eye on her, steering his horse beside hers as she continued to nod off. “My Lady,” he spoke to her. She raised her head and looked at him. “Take care, my Lady. I would not see you hurt… if you roll off…” Serena gave him a weary smile. “I could sleep anywhere, even on the back of this horse, if I could.” Blackwell shook his head and frowned, chiding her. “You’ll slip from your saddle and break your lovely neck.” She let in and out a long sigh and straightened up. “Yes, of course… I just can’t think straight.” Lord Blackwell raised his hand and pressed it against her leg in a soothing gesture. Serena furrowed her brow with a disapproving frown, looking down at the hand, which touched her thigh. Klaus cleared his throat, and when Blackwell looked up, he shook his head and spoke in a deep, foreboding voice. “Remove your hand from the Lady, else I’ll remove it for you…” He promptly removed his hand, raising his hand in a placating gesture. “I meant no harm, I was simply extending my desire for her comfort.” “’Twas not her comfort you had in mind I wager…” Klaus grumbled. Serena was no longer sleepy, but wide awake, not knowing if she should be offended… Blackwell had appeared to only be looking out for her safety… was his touch innocent or was it something else? She gave Blackwell a long and uncertain glance, who had steered his horse well away with a grim look on his face.
As they dismounted to make camp, Blackwell approached Serena as she laid out her bedroll, moving slowly and clumsily as she was doing all she could to arrange it properly before she lay down to rest. He walked stiffly, his demeanor was all business, his voice cordial and distant. “My Lady, I must apologize for my behavior. I wish only for your well being, I would never dare to treat you dishonorably.” Serena plopped down on the bedroll, rubbing the fatigue from her eyes as she tried to hold on to consciousness long enough to converse with him. “Sir Blackwell, as you are one of my escorts to see me to the castle keep, I can forgive your transgression… But do not think because we are on good terms that you may be intimate in your touch or conversation. There are many here willing to correct your behavior, if I should be so inclined to ask.”
Touché. Blackwell smiled at her. “You should never have reason to ask, my Lady.” He bowed low to her. “Sleep well.” He turned and walked away, an amused smile on his face.
Serena shook her head as she watched him walk away, but even now sleep was taking over her body, and she complied by laying down and pulling a blanket over her to keep away the chill. She was sleeping not long after she curled up, letting out soft sighs and murmurs as her mind slipped into dreams.
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Post by Joe on Apr 17, 2014 20:32:51 GMT -5
Andal placed a hand on Serena's shoulder and gently shook her. "My lady, dawn has come." He returned to his horse and continued packing his things. A few of the others were preparing with him, the others slowly stirring awake. Now that they had passed from the swamp they were in the lands of Velris, one of the larger duchies in the former Golden Kingdom. The ruling family were a proud and marshal people, naming the land after themselves. Andal had not seen Lord Velris in years, though at their last meeting Velris had sworn his allegiance to their cause. Indeed, Andal had counted on their support, for their levies were some of the greatest and most fearsome warriors in the westerlands.
Between the two mountains in front of them was a great fortress that he prayed was still in Velris control. They would make for it with all haste, for all around them were signs of battle. During a short scout of the road ahead Andal had found fresh bodies and scorched earth. The Illios had already brought the war to their doorstep. When the party had at last prepared he led them on again. As they rode, Andal was surprised to see Ro ride up next to him. Tristan had made a speech of his honor and offered his horse to Ro. Now he sat back to back with Klaus on his horse, both of them clearly uncomfortable. Below Ro's hood Andal could see her dark red hair and slim chin.
"My lord?" Her voice was curt but soft. She had not spoken since they had left. "Yes?" Andal asked with evident surprise. "It is my understanding that you were once the betrothed of Princess Aurelia." "That's right." Andal flinched minutely, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their conversation was private. "I was only an acolyte at the time, but her death marked the downfall of our order. I wanted to apologize for their failure to protect her."
Andal looked down, unsure how to take the apology. His voice was low, "It was also my duty to protect her.. it was a dark day for us all." He looked over and she was staring at him. Her hood now down, he got a good look at her. Her irises were grey and he could not tell if they were simply bright or were glowing softly. Her skin was bronze and smooth, though she did not seem young. He could not place her age, but he was momentarily stunned by her appearance. She spoke again.
"I will succeed where my predecessors failed. Lady Serena will fear no foe as long as I stand, nor you, my lord." She bowed her head and then slowed her horse, falling back into formation. Andal glanced back at her, giving her a nod. Facing back forwards, he smiled. Catching himself, he realized he had not smiled in a long time.
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Post by Jenny on Apr 18, 2014 14:24:31 GMT -5
‘Tis morning already? Serena stirred as Andal shook her awake, breathing in deeply. She looked up at him and nodded with a small smile on her face. As he moved on to his duties, she began to see to packing her own things as efficiently as she could after brushing out her hair and wiping her face with a cloth doused in water to refresh her. Despite wishing to stay abed for a little longer, and a bit bleary eyed, she would not impede by taking a length of time to arrange her things. She did inquire to their whereabouts and was told that these were Velrish lands, and that the ruling family was favorable to their cause. She mounted her horse as the others did and would soon take her accustomed place in the formation, Andal before her and many of the rest behind her back. She felt in this way, surrounded by her escorts, quite secure. She wished them good morning as she passed, giving them warm smiles. To Blackwell she was guarded, but she smiled politely.
“Good morrow, my lady.” Blackwell bowed his head as he arranged the reigns in his hand. She responded in kind and wished him a good morning, but that was the extent to which she desired to speak with him, rounding her mount about. She felt his eyes upon her as her back was turned. Why did he make her feel such discomfort? It seemed ungrounded, but it existed all the same.
Serena could see that Andal and the woman named Ro were conversing. She averted her eyes and held her horse in check, for it seemed to be an intimate conversation between them and she did not want to intrude. It was not until Ro took her place again that she continued forward, giving Ro a thoughtful glance. Ro having been silent for so long during their journey, it must have been a matter of importance for her to speak her mind presently. As Ro’s face was again lost within the hood of her cloak she remained a creature of mystery. Why did she choose to hide her face so? Serena looked away before her glance became impolite.
As the party moved on, Serena wondered if she would be allowed the chance to get to know her escorts better. If they were to stay a while at the Velris keep, would she take the opportunity to do so? She had liked Klaus immediately, and of course Andal now had her complete trust. They should all have that trust, she could not think of a reason to think otherwise. As the swamp was well behind their backs, she noted Andal’s tension, for it was practically palatable. It was a premonition of the Illios threat, she was sure of it. Try as he might, Andal couldn’t succeed at keeping the horrors of war from her eyes no matter what trail they chose to follow. She could smell the tang of smoke in the air. Her eyes moved over the surrounding farmland and witnessed wisps of smoke trailing upwards from a farmhouse that had recently been set aflame, the crops in ruins. The Illios had been here! The people of this land had been killed for reasons she could not fathom.
It was surreal. Once she had been loyal to Illios, to those who would see her killed beneath the hand of the king, and all because of her birthright. She hadn’t known true despair, true horror until that very day she stood before the Illios king on trial. She had seen firsthand the horrors of battle when The Unnamed stormed into the court and began the slaughter for which she had once despised Andal. She recalled what he had said to her that same day: "They were all false men, and so false are any who worship The One. You should not mourn them.” She was reminded of the god to which she once gave all of her devotion, that which the Illios had called The One. She had lived her life under his service, and yet she had been betrayed, a lamb held up for sacrifice though she had performed no transgressions in her life. How could she? Cloistered in the church where her life was spent in servitude and worship, tormented by her peers just because she held favor, and quite naïve. How things had changed.
Her thoughts transitioned from the Illios to Cartel. She hoped that all was well with him. What she would do to know that he still lived…
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Post by Joe on Apr 22, 2014 5:28:01 GMT -5
Andal carefully lead them through a nearby forest that ran parallel to the road. No doubt The Illios had scouting parties all about them and using the road would never be wise. Several times they were forced to hold and wait as a nearby skirmish or group of riders passed by. As they began to reach the foot of the mountains it got cold and their breath turned to mist before them. Andal lead them to the top of a hill looking down into the valley where the fortress lay. As he reached the crest he quickly threw out his hand and gestured for the party to approach slowly and stay low.
Below in the valley the fortress was alive and full of activity, Velris flags still flying over its battlements - but opposite it, not more than a few miles away, was a massive Illion host. They were preparing to lay siege to the fortress. Andal cursed and looked to be deep in thought, trying to run through the valley to reach the fortress would be their death - they would pass to close to the host. They would be seen, and would most likely be hailed by arrows or rode down by knights. Their only other choice was to go up the mountain and down the other side, approaching the fortress from behind. Would it still be there when they did? Shaking his head he turned to the party, "This is an ill turn.. we must traverse the mountain and come to the fortress from the north, I see no other course for us." The rest of the party nodded begrudgingly, they were ill prepared for the cold. They would meet more mountains in their journey but Andal had planned to resupply here. He drew them away from the hill and towards the southwestern edge of the mountain. The terrain grew rocky, a small path wrapped around the mountain overlooking the valley. The air quickly grew more frigid, and snow began to build on the path as the temperature dropped.
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Post by Jenny on Apr 23, 2014 1:14:17 GMT -5
She was unsettled as they rode through the forest. Not being able to see if the enemy lie close made her anxious. The snap of twigs, the rustle of leaves, made her believe that there could be an ambush set at any point. Today Klaus had taken to her rear not giving Blackwell any opportunity to make an ass of himself.
“Easy now, lass.” His voice was muted by the trees. “They won’t be getting the best of us, not with Lord Andal at t’watch.” She knew as well as him that Andal possessed powers. “He knows the way, put your trust in that.”
“Oh, I do.” Color rose to her cheeks. “It’s just… everything we have seen…” Her face grew stern. “I hate them. I hate all of them, especially the Illios king. They bring nothing but suffering,” she said with a voice full of spite. “I just wish…” she sighed, slumping her shoulders. “I wish I could help you… to fight I mean. I’ve never learned how.” She looked behind her to Klaus and smirked. “Being a damsel in distress may be a romantic notion to young maidens, but it is highly impractical. I feel such a burden.”
“No, lass. Don’t ever tell yourself that you are a burden. It is an honor to escort you, my good Lady. Every man and woman loyal to you could only wish to do so much. You may be inexperienced, but you are strong and you are beautiful. You’ve caught the eye of many a lad.” He chuckled. “Just not from any of the right ones…” he added, at a lower tone.
Color had risen to her cheeks. “Your words are generous, Sir Klaus.”
“Generous?” He laughed. “I am being no more generous than you deserve. Every word is solemn truth. Ah, but I see I am making you uncomfortable.”
“It… it’s all right.” Serena smiled. “I am just not used to compliments. I had to be invisible my entire life. I wanted to be invisible. All of this has been so sudden, I haven’t quite gained a handle on things.”
Klaus looked upon her as a proud father would look on his own. “You were not born into your station, it may be true. But you will be a fine queen, I am sure of it.”
She returned his smile with an uneasy one of her own, her eyes moving ahead. He was trying to make her feel better but she remained unsure of herself.
As they went further up, she began to shiver, her breath coming out in tufts. As they halted to gain their bearings she looked down first upon the bustling Velris fortress. Her delight at the prospects of having a warm bed for the night and a bath turned to disappointment as Andal pointed out the Illios gathering to soon lay siege to it. No… damn them. Damn them! Her rage rekindled, her nostrils flared as she sat rigid. Her horse shifted nervously as it felt her body tense. But they were no army. Charging the Illios would be sheer suicide. She would smite them all if she could, lay waste through her very will. She raised her hands and looked at them. If she had power, if she had some latent magic within her… if only she had been born with the knowledge of sorcery she would crumble the ground beneath the Illion host and bury them where they stood. But she was not born with such gifts. She lowered her hands, looking up to the mountains.
There were sheer cliffs, the pathways clinging to the mountain would blow with a fierce wind. The danger of it chilled her to the bone.
Klaus rummaged in his saddle bags, unrolling a heavy fur he used as a spare blanket for sleeping. “Lass,” he raised the fur and tossed it to Serena when she was ready to catch it. “Drape it over yourself so you do not catch your death of cold up in the mountains.”
“But what about you?” She held it in her hands, running her thumb over the thick fur.
“I’ve got enough meat on my bones and more besides,” Klaus chuckled, patting his belly. “You just keep yourself warm.”
“Thank you.” She threw it over her shoulders. It was large as Klaus was a stocky man, and it enveloped her well.
The first flakes of snow landed on her cheeks and she brushed them away as they melted. The beauty of white did not please her for long.
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Post by Joe on Apr 23, 2014 10:36:35 GMT -5
They were high in the mountain now, the wind blew hard, causing the cold to pierce through all cover. The path was now covered with a foot of snow, the haze of the snowfall now obscured their view to the valley below. Andal pulled his hood far over his head, hunching down in the saddle. He glanced back and saw the bitter condition of the party. With their poor suiting for the cold he worried of frostbite, but now they had to be even more urgent. There was no shelter on this road, and the impending siege meant they could waste no time if they wanted to get the supplies they needed and possibly turn the tides of the battle.
Tristan, still uncomfortably sharing the saddle wit Klaus, was probably the one in the party least accustomed to the cold. He came from the warm sands of the south, where snow never fell. He lowered his head and tried to not look like he was obviously listening when Serena began to speak to Klaus, he would simply bow his head in respect when her eyes flicked to him. He had seen how guarded she was, how she had treated Blackwell for a touch. Tristan would not make the same mistake, he would bide his time. He was accustomed to the game of courting, and if a woman acted this way there was typically more at play than modesty. He wrapped his cape around him, it's red velvet now frayed and dank from the snow.
Ro rode closely behind Serena, her head constantly on a swivel to detect danger - even though she trusted Andal's senses well enough. The cold did not bother her yet, all in her order were made to endure the most extreme of all temperatures in their trials. She felt for the others though, it would be a tragic fate if they all simply perished from the cold before their dreams were realized - but of course she would not let that happen, at least not to the Princess. She glanced at Blackwell behind her, he looked sullen, no doubt over the fuss that had been made. It amused her, there would be much more to-do about the princess between men before this journey was over, and she would see even more beyond that as her personal guard. Ro looked to Serena again and studied the back of her head, how would she take having so many suitors? She was curious to discuss the idea with her, but knew this was not the time.
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Post by Jenny on Apr 23, 2014 18:47:38 GMT -5
Serena pulled the fur around her tightly, drawing her hands to hold the reigns loosely so that she may keep them inside the warmth. She shivered violently, causing her body to ache and fatigue quickly. She had never been in such a harsh winter. Cairnewn was a relatively mild area, the snows never being quite so heavy as this. Andal had not planned for this route, else they would have supplied themselves more accordingly. She did not blame him, it made her curse the Illios even more fervently. She looked at the others in dismay, knowing that they suffered as she suffered. If she could share Klaus’ fur she would. The only consolation about the blustering snow was that they were masked from the Illios host. The horses lowered their heads and ploughed through the snow faithfully. Surely if not for their horses they would be worse off, and their journey would nigh be impossible, clothed as they were, and considering the distance they would have to tread. Many of the others had followed suit and made use of their bedding to try and stave off the cold, as it were.
Blackwell’s dog trotted close to his master’s horse at its heels, sometimes letting out a whine for its paws were cold, but there was nothing to do about it.
There would be no stopping, and for once she had no desire to, for she wanted to get out of the mountains as swiftly as possible. As the hours drew on and pure darkness fell, forcing the lead and the rear to light their lamps so that there would be no deviation from the path they forged, she wrapped her hands tightly in the reigns and hunched down, tucking her chin against her chest and moving in and out in a state of half-sleep. She did not fall asleep, t’was too cold for that, so there was no risk of tumbling off of her mount. To try to stave off this fatigue she began to hum the tune of a hymn she used to sing. The music of it sometimes carried and was sometimes muffled.
She had often spent her days in the past singing hymns of praise while she worked, and lifted her voice when worshiping in the convent chapel. Her voice was pleasing enough, though it was no real beauty. It did not have to be if raised in worship. She no longer believed in the god she had once prayed. The One did not send down a divine hand to smite those wicked who would have her murdered. No, Andal had been her salvation. And his brother had been her dearest friend. But he was at Dire Hall now, at least she dearly hoped so. He was the Lord of the Hall. It seemed strange to her that Cartel would place the weight of rule on his head. She wished him well and hoped that they would once again cross paths. Would she find him altered? No longer the Cartell she had fallen in love with? His free spirit, his smiling face, and that awkwardness in love that had made him so charming… She let out a long sigh, her eyes turning on Andal. He was the true lord of Dire Hall. Would he move on to reclaim that title when she was crowned the queen? If they did not find themselves worthy, would her friends abandon her side out of deference? She would be the very same then as she was now… it seemed such a ridiculous notion.
She began to sing again aloud, for songs had been taught to her without reverence for a god. There were those not tied to the convent that would visit the kitchen daily, bringing supplies that could not be grown or tended to in the convent walls. There was a fisherman, a cheerful sort whose cheeks were always red for the wind on the sea. On holidays they were allowed to have meat, and she delighted at the promise of it. The butcher’s wife would bring in a goose or perhaps a generous side of beef. She was a gossip and often she made Serena laugh by her stories, though she knew not the townsfolk she spoke of. Then there was the midwife who brought in medicines and herbs gatherable only in the wild. She was an ancient woman who had lost most of her teeth. She would come only on the first Sunday of the month, but Serena would be sure to bake her some very soft rolls that the old one could chew. Serena was a charitable soul and it pleased her to show kindness upon others. In return, the midwife would bring her some pretty flowers which Serena would cheer her room. And once they had near-wilted, she would press them in her prayer book so that she may draw them out to look at them when she needed cheering up.
From these visitors she would learn songs, snatches of them to add here and there with every visit. She would commit them to memory, singing them to herself when in private, for the sisters of the convent would hush her if the music she sung was not related to worship. There was one song in particular that, if heard, she would be sent without supper to think on her “sins.” It was taught her by the fisherman – the words were of tragic love. The young man went to sea to make his fortune and left the maiden whom he loved, promising that he would return to her once he had the money to make her his bride. But upon the sea rose a fantastic storm, sent by a merman named Poseidon, and the ship was lost. The girl waited and waited, pining for her love to return to her. When news came to her that the ship had sunk and her love was dead she cast herself into the sea. It was a sad song but it did speak of true love. The song came from Serena’s lips soft and sorrowful. She lapsed off in silence after a time.
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Post by Joe on Apr 27, 2014 18:44:32 GMT -5
As Serena's songs began, a strange calm descended on the party. The bitter pain of cold, the weariness of fatigue, the pains of hunger, all seemed to fade away as her voice carried over the air. Everyone sat up in their saddle, looking to her, smiles coming over their faces. It wasn't just the fairness of her voice, it somehow influenced them. The snow suddenly lightened slightly, tiny rays of sunlight pierced the clouds momentarily then faded as she stopped. Andal brought his horse about slightly, facing Serena, "Your voice is beautiful my lady.. did you feel it too?" He smiled and nodded to her, "The latent power within you.. our kingdom was once filled with this light." Looking a little sad he turned back and led them on, "The light that never dies.. still lives."
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Cartell was at first overwhelmed by the presence now with him. It was jarring, but comforting - it told him everything he wanted to hear. It seemed to be female, it said it had no name, that it is him and he was it. He had secluded himself in the lord's chambers, trying to know this new power in and out. How to hide it, how to apply it, how to control it. The symbol on the back of his hand was unmistakable, and some had noticed it. Some of the older faces seemed knowing, while others thought it was a strange tattoo. Now he sat on a horse in a field, surrounded by his retainers. In the valley below was one of his family's holding, a village. The Illios were raiding it, he could see them scurrying about burning, looting, and killing. He had hated them before but now they sickened him, they had no true power, all that they were was untrue. He would now show them true power, the power he and his family wielded, the power that once ruled the west. Cartell kicked his horse into a gallop, and swiftly and silently his party descended on the village.
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Post by Jenny on Apr 29, 2014 10:00:55 GMT -5
A sense of wonder was on Serena’s face. Was it true? Had she actually caused all of this? She looked among their faces, the smiles that had lit upon them, the moments of joy that had warmed their hearts as if the cold could not touch them. She focused on Andal as he brought his horse about. The party pauses momentarily. As he spoke, they nodded their heads in agreement. She could scarcely believe that… was there truly magic in her voice? “I felt it…” she replied, her voice hushed with wonder. She had a latent power?. It couldn’t be true, but yet Andal’s voice nor face held any deception, no false flattery. They moved on as he did, her face now concentrated in silent contemplation. She was reminded of her desire to destroy the Illios host gathering to lay siege to Velris keep. Serena raised her palm and flexed it. The sun’s rays had been cheerful, the life of her company renewed. This was no dark power - this was power of light.
If I have a light inside me, surely it is from the blood of the first... the true kings of the Westerlands. I will be the Golden Queen, I will claim my birthright. I will bring the world this light. And I swear this. I shall never use it for ill…
As they rode on, she contemplated singing once again; just to be sure what had happened was truly real and not a simple coincidence. But she was a little afraid, although by the look on her companion’s faces they were joyful and not wary and judgmental. She looked up at the sky once again, wishing that the weather would break on its own. She shivered even though she wore the heavy fur about her, for the wind was a bracing cold that seeped into her bones.
As the snow muted sound, and the wind made it night impossible to hear from a distance, the party was being tracked, though it was likely that they were not yet aware. They drove on, eager to traverse the distance in as little time as possible. How Serena wished for a fire and a warm drink.
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Post by Joe on May 1, 2014 19:23:50 GMT -5
Hours passed again, the path turned downward, the snow lifted. The air became warm and storm clouds gathered, flashing of lightning illuminating the clouds. The sun was beginning to set, out across the vast landscape before them they could see the land of Velris. The battles had not reached past the mountain fortress, villages and castles spread out before them. To their right the fortress lay before them, behind it were dozens of tents and fires comprising an army camp. Movement could be seen on the fortress battlements.
Finally reaching the bottom of the mountain path, a party was already waiting for them. The red colors of Velris adorned the knights and flags of those who stood before them. "Lord Holland." The knight in front addressed them, "We've been expecting you, our scouts spotted you on the descent. We are very happy to see you well, our lord was worried about passage with the siege." The knights parted to allow their party to ride between them, "My lord will be very happy to receive you at the fortress."
Andal returned the greeting and followed suit with the knights. They passed through the army camp, the men were mostly levies, conscripts from the various counties. As they reached the thick of it, the men began to gather around the road, looking to the party as they came through. Discussion broke out as Serena came through, growing more excited as time passed. Then, they began to kneel or bow, taking off their helms and lowering their heads. A chant came suddenly from the crowd, "The light that never dies!" It grew louder and louder until the whole camp was surrounding the road and chanting over and over.
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Post by Jenny on May 3, 2014 3:50:39 GMT -5
There was a collective sigh as the weather eased into pleasant warmth. Serena eased the fur off of her shoulders and folded it up, bending in the saddle to place it in Klaus’ hands with her thanks. The thunder that rumbled in the distance promised rain, the setting sun a dramatic backdrop against the lightning that streaked across the sky, which stretched vast across the mountain range that bordered Velris land. Serena surveyed the tide of the battle. The Velris had effectively kept back the Illios at the head of the fortress, who were unable to breach into the villages, and for that she was relieved. As they had made the detour, as if burned in the back of her eyes, she had ruminated over the destruction the Illios had been responsible for thus far – burned corpses left unburied in razed crops, crumbled and smoldering remains of what had once been the homes of people who hadn’t deserved to be slain, and even the little children had been butchered as if lambs for the slaughter. But not here... The fighting appeared to have muted to a standstill – the bruised Illios apparently did not enjoy fighting in the dark – or else they had retreated to lick their wounds. And so fierce a bite. The allied forces matched the Illios in number, if not more. This was a promising development.
The torches that the Velris party held caused their armor to glimmer and wink in the coming darkness, the red of the Velris colors deepening into the color of blood. An strange shiver went down her spine as the image of golden knights seeped their way into her mind. Her body went cold and she shivered, remembering the feel of damp and stale air, the feel of rough shale beneath her fingers as she tried to feel a way out of the cell, the intense pang of desolation and fear as she waited for her trial in Sacroscant. Her face was momentarily drawn and pale, her eyes blank and staring. She shift of the horse beneath her as it stomped and shook its head made her squeak and come back to reality, focusing on the knights as they made the accustomed niceties to Lord Andal.
Her mind was unsettled for a few moments, and she did not lift her eyes at first, until the noise of the gathering voices caught her attention. She began to return their greetings, her smiles genuine in kind. Everyone was so friendly here. As they began to kneel and bow, she became self-conscious, but not with meekness, more of a self-awareness. These men were fighting for Velris, it was true, but the looks in their eyes were more personal, more involved than simply defending king and keep. They looked devoted, and as they lifted their voices to chant in unison, a swelling of pride welled up in her chest. They were giving homage to her. The words they spoke were those that Andal himself had spoken. She was their light. Serena’s eyes brimmed with tears. She was now part of a greater purpose she had only begun to comprehend.
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Blackwell’s dog had halted before the descent into the Velris valley as soon as he had spotted the scouts. After a time, Blackwell himself had let out a sharp whistle when he noticed his dog’s absence, but figured the animal had only become lost in the crowd. Backtracking the party’s route, the dog paced through the blustering snow. Already the tracks made by the horses were nearly buried, but his sense of smell led the way. It was not long before he saw several figures before him, each riding on hearty horses meant for the wagon or the plough. They halted once they saw once another. The dog shivered and stretched itself out, morphing into something that looked like it could be a man, but twisted from dark magic as well as the fact that it often took the form of the enormous black dog with wiry fur. So strange did the man-creature look that it caused the men discomfort. But he was to make his report. His voice was gravely and gruff, seldom used.
“Hail to thee, masters.”
“Come and speak.” The leader beckoned for the man-creature to come forward.
It did in a shuffling walk, back hunched over until it stood nose to nose with the horse. “The woman and companions have reached the Velris. I thought it wise to give you warning.”
The leader cursed and looked down the mountain path, his jaw working in annoyance at this drawback. “I had counted on the Illios’ to interfere. Now we must wait until she leaves the safety of the keep. They could linger for days.” He looked at the man-creature. “We will keep to the mountains until our passage is unseen and then pass through the outskirts of the Velris lands. They will surely head towards the Westerlands directly, for the Illios cannot breach past the keep and are thus delayed. We will be on the watch. Go now, and keep your eyes open. If anything is amiss, you will know where to find me.”
“Yes, yes… it will be as you command, master. ” the man-creature bowed many times, moving to take his leave lest the humans become suspicious.
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Post by Jenny on May 11, 2014 3:20:17 GMT -5
The chants continued, only dying off as the party passed into the gate of the keep, escorted by the host of knights, who stood proud and erect as they escorted their future queen. Servants that dwelled in the courtyard, surrounded by firm stone, their forms lit up by torches guttering in the wind, bowed and curtseyed as the knights went past. They raised their eyes to the lovely woman mounted on a white steed. In their profession, they learned many secrets, catching bits of conversation as they served the nobles, or those that could read, though there were few, of documents laid open on writing desks. There had been talk among them of the coming of the woman who would be queen into the Velris keep. They had been kept busy with preparations of a welcoming feast, had dusted long-empty rooms and placed fresh linens on beds and in closets so that noble guests could be comfortable, polishing the silver and china so that they gleamed impressively. Those milling about on their business were servants only, for the villagers had taken refuge in their homes in the countryside as to not hinder the defense, wishing to instead protect their families. But the number paled in comparison to Velris soldiers who were on the watch and ready for any attack the Illios may have devised. The wounded had been taken into the chapel to be tended to, for the nobles of Velris had wished to keep all signs of suffering from the Lady Serena, for this was a time of celebration, not of mourning. Serena was quiet as they passed through the courtyard and dismounted, their horses hastened to the stable after their packs had been removed, for the journey had been long and arduous and it was best to keep a horse at its best health. They would be given baths and rubbed down, fed oats and plenty of hay. Their hooves would be inspected carefully, and if the horse had become lame, the Lord Velris would willingly give one of his own horses in trade, for the benefit of her majesty. As soon as Serena dismounted, she was not allowed to carry her burdens, for already there were ladies in waiting and servants whisking away her things, to launder her clothes.
The Lord Velris, an imposing and impressive man, descended the steps to the keep, his body rigid and composed. He gave his greetings, stepped forward and took Serena’s hand, making the motions of kissing her hand, but not doing so out of the greatest of respect as was the custom at the time. Serena smiled at him and shyly withdrew her hand, giving him the best curtsey in kind as she could, for although it was still slightly awkward because she had not been in the company of nobles most of her life she had practiced. “I am honored to meet you, good Lord Velris.”
“You are most welcome, my Lady. And to you, Lord Andal, welcome. I am sorry for the state of things, for as you have seen we are under siege.” He looked to Serena once more. “But do not worry, we are well prepared. You will not want for anything. Come, you must be tired after your journey. My servants will attend you and see you to your rooms. You may refresh yourselves as you wish. I have put together a feast in your honor.”
“I am most grateful for your hospitality, Lord. Velris.” Serena bowed her head graciously. She paused and awkwardly added. “The presence of the Illios is most vexing indeed…”
“Quite,” Velris’s eyebrows raised. “They are a formidable enemy… to us and to you. My men will stand to the last man to ensure your safety, Lady Serena. But let us think of more pleasant things. Please…”
He swept a hand towards the keep, and Serena willingly mounted the stairs, eager to make use of the hospitality that Lord Velris had so graciously offered.
“Come with me, my Lady, if you please,” a lady-in-waiting said to her with a deep curtsey. Serena gave Andal a smile as she was led away into the keep.
“We are quite pleased to serve you, my Lady.” the woman gushed, her face beaming. “It isn’t every day a future queen visits these halls. We have prepared the best room for you. I do hope you find it to your liking.”
“I am sure it will be more than adequate,” Serena replied, her cheeks flushed shyly. Every time she entered a Lord’s estate, she was treated like a queen… well, she supposed she was one. But it was taking some getting used to. Only months ago, she was little more than a servant herself.
The room she was led into was enormous, the lush velvet that lined the furniture and bed clothes was a blood red hue. Gold accents glinted everywhere. The bed, large enough for three people, had posts carved of a dark mahogany, going well with the theme of red. The same velvet was draped as curtains around the bed, to keep out the night drafts, she supposed. And she was led further in still, into another room called a closet, where a Lady was allowed even more privacy. There was a large white porcelain tub in the middle of the bathroom which was excessively large, the bathtub large enough to almost swim in if she was so inclined. A heavy gilded mirror lined the vanity, on which was arranged lovely smelling perfumes, lotions, and soft brushes. And all to pamper her, things meant for a lady. The servant stood expectantly, a smile of pride on her face.
“It’s wonderful.” Serena breathed, speaking truthfully.
“Yes, my Lady. Let me show you what you have to wear during your stay.” She opened the wardrobe. The dresses were breathtaking, silks from the orient, furs and ermine, velvet so soft it looked like it was liquid. And shoes, delicate and ornamented. The lady-in-waiting pulled out a thin drawer, and laid upon it was beautiful jewelry. Serena had not seen such things so fine in her life, and she was quite overwhelmed.
“I… need to sit down…” Serena admitted faintly.
“Oh, I am sorry my Lady, you must be exhausted. Your journey, has it been difficult for you?” The lady-in-waiting asked with a furrowed brow.
“There has been horrors…” Serena replied in an almost dreamlike state.
“Oh my. I would love to know-“ the woman snapped her mouth shut, realizing that she has been too casual. “Well, I am glad that you are will us now, my Lady. Shall I draw a bath for you?”
“Oh yes, that would be lovely.” Serena perked up attentively. The woman curtseyed again and excused herself to get water to full the tub, making sure to add boiling water just enough to make the water pleasant. As she finished, Serena thanked her gratefully. When she was left alone, she disrobed and sank into the water with a long sigh of contentment. She picked up a bar of soap and a washing cloth, breathing in the rich lavender smell of the soap. Oh, this is heaven.
After spending more than half an hour in the water, she stepped out and drew on a plush robe. She sat down before the vanity and carefully brushed out her hair. The bath had done wonders to renew her energy. When she was finished, she went to the wardrobe to pick out a dress she would wear to the banquet. Draping her selection on a chaise, she walked over to the bed, looking over the length of it. She stretched out her hand to feel the softness of it, then proceeded to crawl under the sheets. The linens were soft, much finer than anything she was used to. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.
There was a knock on the door and she sat up. The room was dark. She realized that she must have fallen asleep. The voice was muffled on the other side of the door.
“My lady, are you decent? The banquet will soon commence. Do you need any assistance?”
Serena slid out of the bed, replacing the covers neatly. She walked over to the door and opened it, seeing the same woman as before. She was still in the bathrobe. She raised a hand to her hair. “Ye- yes. Could you arrange my hair for me? I don’t know what would be appropriate for-“
“Oh, yes, my Lady,” the woman beamed, walking in not to waste any time.
Presently, Serena walked out of the room, her hair arranged beautifully with soft curls trailing down the intricate, woven bun that had been arranged. There were small jeweled pins adorning her hair, and a matching ruby necklace at the small of her throat. Her dress was silken silver, tailored beautifully as if it was made just for her body. The slippers she wore were covered in the same material. She was told that there would be dancing. Dancing, in a dining hall? She wondered to herself.
But the hall she was led into was not just a dining hall, it was a ballroom, with alcoves on the floor above where people could mingle. The multitude of banquet tables only took up a quarter of the space, with another quarter of it set up for musicians. You would not have known that there was a war outside by the splendor in the hall. There were affluent guests attending, perhaps not as many as one might expect a gala to be, but still enough to make an impression on her. The ladies were dressed exquisitely, the men dressing smartly in black.
Serena turned her head as Andal entered the room, himself wearing fine garments, though he looked as dazed as she felt. It made her wonder what his Holland estate looked like, if it was nearly as fine as this. But her thoughts were blown away as the Lord Velris approached her, bowing deeply.
“Did you have a pleasant rest, my Lady?”
“Oh yes, I fear I fell asleep…” she replied shyly, her cheeks reddening.
Lord Velris chuckled. “I am pleased that you made yourself at home here. What do you think of the ballroom?”
“Breathtaking,” she admitted with a nervous laugh. “I have never been in a place so fine as this.”
“You will be when you reach the castle of kings upon your coronation,” he assured her, “once it has been polished up to its former glory.”
“Do you know… of the old king and queen? My parents, I mean. Have you heard of their whereabouts?” She asked hopefully.
Lord Velris looked hesitant and uncomfortable at the question. “I… do not know, I am most deeply sorry.” He looked to the conductor at the head of the orchestra and nodded his head. They began to play music. Serena looked to them, distracted and delighted. They were well tuned and the music was lively.
“Shall we dance, my Lady?” Lord Velris asked with a smile, holding out his hand.
Serena looked momentarily terrified, her eyes widening.
“Don’t worry, I am an accomplished dancer. Just follow my lead and you’ll dance beautifully.”
“Okay,” Serena tentatively put her hand in his, hoping that what he said was true. She had never danced in a ballroom all her life. All she knew were snatches of folk dances.”
Lord Velris moved fluidly, one hand behind his back as he confidently led her onto the dance floor. When she raised her arms, awkwardly trying to figure out what to do, he guided her hands. “Just place your hands here and here.” He chuckled a bit, which made Serena blush all the more deeply. “And now,” he began to lead her to the waltz, the pressure of his hand at her back, and with her hand in his, was able to coax her into fluid movements.
Serena was absolutely breathless with the wonder of it. She was dancing, she was really doing it!
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The small party picked their way along a seldom-used path while Blackwell’s dog hastened towards the keep the way their target had gone. Their ponies, heartier than those of noble gentry, lowered their heads and plodded along loyally. They would not be seen by scouts along this route. The detour would take more time than their leader had calculated, and he was not pleased.
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Post by Jenny on May 12, 2014 2:15:34 GMT -5
Three men, dressed in rags, huddled inside a barn, the nearest sanctuary for the drenching rain which came down in sheets. They had found an empty stall and pressed their bodies against the driest spot possible. They were soaked and miserable, but determined to make their way to Dire Hall.
“It smells like shit,” one of the men said as he glared at the cow beside him. ‘Still, it was nice to have a bit of milk.”
“I still say we should kill a chicken,” the second grumbled.
“And how would we cook it, you idiot?” the third snapped. “We can’t light a fire, you know that, or else we would be discovered trespassing here.”
The three fell into a silence, the only sound the driving rain. The water seeped into the stable, turning dirt and straw into mud. The second man was looking towards the humble cottage on the property, candlelight winking behind the windows.
“It looks nice and cozy in there. Think they have a daughter?” He mused, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.
The third man was losing his patience. He suddenly reached out and whacked the speaker across the head. “Idiot, now’s not the time for that! You know what we have to do, we have our orders.”
“But why do we have to dress like this? These clothes stink something awful. Why can’t we just wear our armor?” The first man complained.
The third man sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Because we can’t be discovered. If they knew we were Illios soldiers, and sent by the king no less, to Dire Hall-“
“He’d have our heads,” the first sighed. “If the Lord of Dire Hall doesn’t lop it off before he does.”
“We will succeed. We will, where others have failed.” The third smacked his hand in his palm. “As soon as the king found out who was responsible for the slaughter at Sacroscant, he’s been sending waves of soldiers to breach Dire Hall ever since. But the others were doing it the wrong way… The defenders of Dire Hall are looking for Illios soldiers, not peasants.”
The second opened his mouth to speak, but after the other gave him a malicious look, his chest swelling with building anger, he shut it. Again silence and rain…
After a time the rain began to fail, the clouds having been spent of rain. Thunder was more distant now.
“Come on, let’s get going.”
“Just one chicken?”
The third man drew out his dagger. “One more word from you and I’ll cut out your tongue, do you understand me?” He waved the dagger menacingly. The other shook his head fervently and they set off in the darkness, their boots squelching in the mud as they picked their way through the wheat fields.
By the time they reached Dire Hall, they were hungry and weary. They looked up at the castle, green banners waving in the wind, each emblazoned with the Holland crest. They passed through the small gathering of abodes, receiving curious glances, but they were allowed to pass without resistance,
They followed a thin trail at the far end of the protective wall, clinging to the slippery rocks as they inched between the thin bank that lined the natural moat, fed by the waterfall, and the wall itself. When they reached a line of drainage pipes, the cages rusted with age, one hopped into the water, the water reaching his waist, he reared up his leg to bash at it with his foot. The metal squealed in protest, but the rusted bolts soon crumbled and the cage protecting the drainage tunnel was exposed enough for them to squeeze through.
The water was rank, the walls coated with slime, but they trudge on, their aim to gain access to the keep.
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Post by Joe on May 12, 2014 17:31:15 GMT -5
Cartell kicked his horse faster as he descended on an unsuspecting Illios raider. The raider was holding the wrist of a woman, the woman was crumpled on the ground crying, her plain white dress stained by the mud. As Cartell drew closer the hoof-beats of the horse finally grew louder than the woman's cries and the raider looked towards him. He swept his sword across the man and it sang as blood splattered across the shining silver and the grey coat of his horse. The man's head was nearly off, his throat split wide, he fell into the mud choking. Cartell didn't stop, he continued down the street at a breakneck pace, several of the other raiders had noticed them now. His retainers had given a battlecry as they descended into the village behind him. He heard the crunch of blade and steel as battle began around him. The raiders around him were on foot, he cut another down, and another, and another, grinning as he reveled in the slaughter. He'd never felt like this before. A jerk drew him from his revelry as he was thrown from his horse, he caught his fall with his arm and rolled to his knees. His horse fell and whinnied pitifully, one of the bastards had cut its leg.
Now that he was dismounted, several raiders drew in around him. He raised his sword and smirked at them, confidence filled him, he didn't conceive he could lose, and the voice reassured him. He called it, his left arm billowing with dark energy, forming into the great claw. Energy flowed through him, he felt no pain, he felt no fatigue. Before they could react he tore through the first, the ethereal claws completely shredding the man, leaving him in pieces on the ground. A dark glow came over Cartell's eyes as he lunged to the next. The sound of screams echoed through the small village's streets. When Cartell's retainers followed the sound, they found a horrid scene. He stood among piles of gore, blood staining his face and clothes, he slowly sheathed his sword and walked towards them. They knelt as he approached, knowing the power he had laid claim to. Cartell smiled, he felt joy for the first time in days, since..
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Andal fidgeted in his formals, he was well versed in such occasions but they still didn't suit him. He sat at the head table, it was mostly empty now, all the nobles having taken to the dance floor. A small smile came to his face as he watched Serena dance with Lord Velris. These were the things she should be enjoying, if only she could live the life meant for her, not this one of flight. It was his dream for her, and his promise..
"Is this seat taken?" A familiar, fair voice spoke behind him.
He looked up at Ro, raising an eyebrow. "Well.. I'm sure it is, but vacant is vacant."
As she sat he found himself staring, she looked amazing, the first he had ever seen her in formal dress. Even so it was not as extravagant as the other ladies, it was subtle and understated. Her bright red hair fell around her shoulders, he grey luminescent eyes showing small signs of embarrassment as he stared.
He cleared his throat, "Oh, forgive me.. I've just never seen you this way. You look beautiful, my lady."
She looked back at him blankly, though her cheeks flushed, "I'm no lady, my lord, but I felt it would be inappropriate to come to this in my robes."
He nodded, smiling, "You're probably right." He motioned to the floor, "Would you.."
"No." She interrupted.
Andal pressed his lips and nodded, "I thought so."
She realized her rudeness and touched his hand, "But thank you, my lord. I simply prefer to observe."
Andal looked at his hand, her sandy skin touching his. He felt faint suddenly, feelings rushing through him. He looked to her and smiled, "Then we are alike."
She turned away and gazed at the dancers. Andal touched his forehead, blinking. He wasn't sure it was right to have these feelings, not after Aurelia. He frowned and folded his hands, looking at the floor.
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Post by Jenny on May 14, 2014 1:50:43 GMT -5
As the waltz concluded, Serena gave Lord Velris a deep curtsey as he held on to her hand. Her face was lit up in pleasure, her cheeks flushed from the exercise. “That was wonderful, Lord Velris.”
“It was my pleasure, fair Lady,” he smiled, its light touching his eyes. “Allow me to take another turn with you before the night is through.”
“The night has just begun,” Serena laughed lightly.
“Ah, but you will have many suitors, all desiring to take your hand.” He countered, his voice still pleasant.
Serena was taken aback for a few moments, speechless. Those words carried much weight. Perhaps he only meant those who would seek to dance with her this evening, but she could not help but think of her future. When she became queen, her people may wish for her to marry in order to bear future queens and kings, all with the blood of the first fathers. The roots of the golden kingdom would bore deep into the ground and grow strong. The inevitable progression of roots could shatter stone, turn the soil, and a tree could overtake any creation of man and swallow it up. It was also inevitable that she and the Illios king were bound by fate to battle until one kingdom crumbled. But it would not be hers.
She snapped out of her reverie when the Lord Velris spoke again.
“Ah, the feast…” Servants were beginning to enter the hall, their hands laden with trays and platters of fine fare and rich delights. Roasted pheasant, minted lamb, countless chickens and quails, venison and beef, stewed with exotic spices, and rich sauces, countless loaves of various breads, and the bounty of garden and field. All were laid down along the banquet tables. Glasses were filled with white and red wines, mead, beer, and liquors. Murmurs of delight rose in the room as the guests surveyed the feast.
“Shall we take our places, my good Lady?” He offered his arm and she took it, the pearly white of her gloves stark against his sleeve.
He led her to the banquet table as everyone noisily moved to their seats. Those who were seated rose as she was shown to her place and the room grew quiet and expectant, and it was only when Serena seated herself, her place of honor besides the Lord Velris, that everyone sat themselves at the banquet. She looked at the food, quite overwhelmed where she should start. There were many things she had never tasted and they all looked so wonderful. Velris motioned for a server to place an array of choices on her plate, taking care to give her choice cuts, and after expressing her thanks took bite after delectable bite of the samples.
“My compliments to your kitchen,” Serena gushed to her host. “Everything is absolutely divine. I hadn’t dreamed that food could taste this wonderful.” She laughed lightly. “They are more magicians than chefs.”
Lord Velris looked pleased, as did the servants that attended him. “I am glad that you are most pleased, Lady Serena. All of this was in your honor, after all.”
“I admit this all takes getting used to...” she admitted meekly.
“Do you mean living the life of nobility?” He chuckled in response. “You were meant to be born into the life of a princess. It is almost a sin that you had been torn from it. But now you are in your rightful place, and I could not think of anyone more suitable, humble as you are. You grew up in a convent, did you not?”
“Yes,” Serena replied quietly, placing her fork down, her appetite momentarily waning. “I knew nothing of my parentage nor my birthright. Despite living a life of servitude and of faith, I was branded a heretic by the Illios king. I would have been put to death, if not for Andal…” Her face had paled in remembrance of that terror.
He reached out his hand to steady her own which trembled. “You have been grievously mistreated,” he said quietly. “You may never feel safe for some time, my good lady, but we are doing everything we can to ensure that the Illios king can never again harm you. His soldiers cannot move forward because we have engaged them, cannot move backward in fear of retribution, they are trapped, and too will be their king in due time. I would give you the honor of seeing to his death directly, but it would be unwise.”
Serena lapsed into silence, thinking upon this. “But not all the Illios are here, are they? They attack Andal’s own homeland…”
Lord Velris frowned lightly, he had not wished to cause her to worry. “Dire Hall, yes… I fear that is true. The king’s investigation of the events at Sacroscant on the night of your disappearance took a very long time, and the mystery would have remained unsolved but for an anonymous letter indicating the Lord Holland’s hand in it.”
All the blood drained from Serena’s face. “But Andal is not there… only…”
“His brother, Cartell.” Velris nods. “I know. I cannot keep the truth from you, good lady. The young lord is in danger, it is true, but he is more than capable of defending Dire Hall.”
“But… how?” Her voice was now a trembling whisper. Others had noticed Serena’s state, and the room grew quieter, but to allow the lady to save face, they went on with their conversations and their dinner plates.
Ro did not hide her gaze. She was not sitting nearby, but emotion was clear on her lady’s face. “Our lady has a sadness about her…” she said quietly to Andal before turning her steady gray eyes onto his face. “If my suspicious are correct, I fear we have no means to console her.”
“The gifts that the Lord Holland possesses have been blessed to the young lord of Dire Hall,” he said carefully. Tough his words were vague, he knew that Serena was privy to understanding.
Serena indeed understood, having witnessed the dark power within Andal first hand. That power was so potent the act of a clean kill was impossible. It was a power that could rend flesh into shreds, pulverize bone into dust, until nothing identifiable remained of those that would raise a hand to murder him or his own. If she did not trust Andal she may be terrified of him. But she had not thought that darkness could settle into someone like Cartell. She raised her eyes to look at Andal. Had he suspected this?
Her companion studied her face as she looked away. He had meant to reassure her but it seems that this news had upset her. He knew in his bones that Serena was chaste, for she radiated purity and innocence. But something had passed between Andal’s brother and her, he was sure of it. “My Lady…”
She turned her eyes back on Velris, her heart heavy in her chest. Indeed, it looked as if she would soon burst into tears.
He pressed a hand to his chest, giving her as deep a bow as possible while seated. “I humbly ask your forgiveness, for I did not mean to upset you.” He straightened up. “I will make it up to you. Write a letter if I should please you, to the young lord, and I will send riders to Dire Hall to deliver it. I would send aid to Dire Hall if it should put your mind to rest, though I am certain that young Lord Holland is in good health.”
Serena let out a soft sigh and smiled. “That would please me greatly.”
“Then it is settled. Deliver the letter to me and I will have it sent out immediately. Now, please, enjoy yourself. You must try the honey mead, it is from my private stock. Shall I pour you a glass?”
“Yes, please…” she nodded fervently, her mood lightening completely.
After an hour since the feast began, the musicians struck up another song, enticing the guests who were finished with eating to dance again. Lord Blackwell, his dog laying quietly at his feet, got up from his seat in order to ask Serena to dance, placing his napkin down upon the table and straightening his jacket. He had been good and thus he would take his chances of turning around Serena’s opinion of him. He strode over confidently and as Serena looked up at him, he gave a deep bow. “Allow me the pleasure of your company, my Lady, if you would care to give me the honor of a dance.”
Serena didn’t know how to refuse, so she rose from her seat, placing her hand in Lord Blackwell, who looked very pleased that she had accepted. Other couples had arisen to join them, and the room grew noisy again with conversation, the scooting of chairs, and the clattering of platters as servants hastily removed the empty ones while the party guests were distracted.
Lord Blackwell was as good a dancer as Lord Velris, but she didn’t like Blackwell nearly as much. Her body was tense and her eyes wary as she looked at Blackwell.
“You look beautiful tonight, Lady Serena.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. They danced in silence for a few minutes, Serena watching the other couples as she was led by the dance, much to Blackwell’s frustration.
“I have the feeling that I am not in your favor,” he said at last in a measured tone. “I must again make my apologies for my forwardness.”
“Do you make it a point to take advantage of women in their weaknesses, Lord Blackwell?” Her eyes glittered.
His jaw dropped. “I had no intention to – “
“Whatever your intention was, my lord, you did offend me. I am not a weak-kneed woman willing to swoon at your feet.”
Blackwell cleared his throat nervously. “Indeed, you are not like any other woman, my Lady. A virtuous and---“
Serena sighed. “You need not waste your flowery flattery on me, Lord Blackwell. You may have my favor, but only in the nature of my protector and nothing more. My heart is not something that can be won by any methods that you might employ, I assure you.”
“You cannot blame a man for wanting to do so. You are not just a woman, you are an enigma.”
“An enigma?” She repeated, and chuckled a little.
“Yes, an enigma,” He repeated again. “A noblewoman who has not been corrupted by nobility. And blatantly honest.”
“Should honesty not be given as it is deserved?” She raised her brows.
“There is a matter of tact that one in your position usually employs…” he chuckled.
She chuckled. “There is no time for tact, Lord Blackwell.”
“What do you mean?” He looked momentarily baffled.
“If I may continue to be blatantly honest, we are being pursued by men who wish to murder us. We ride into fields which have turned red with blood, we see death all around us… I do not know if I will last the week and yet it comes. Therefore, why be nothing by honest?”
“Well said,” he frowned. “But you will not come to harm.”
Serena let go of him, stepping back to stop dancing. “I must have faith that I will not come to harm, but we cannot blind the fates. I can’t even keep harm from those I love, not really.”
“And do you love… someone?” He asked, checking his curiosity with caution.
She paused, speechless to respond.
“So there is someone?” A smile spread across his face. “Who is it, I wonder? Is it someone I know? Someone in the party perhaps?” He caught his error as Serena’s eyes glinted in fury.
She felt like she had been slapped in the face. “That is none of your concern, nor of anyone else’s. Good night to you, Lord Blackwell.” She turned on her heel and walked away. Everyone else had stopped dancing, stopped eating, stopped talking as she passed by. She wished for a sanctuary where no eyes could stare and no tongue could wag. Lord Velris was already crossing the room to meet her, seeing the flurry of emotions on her face. But he was not looking at her, not for the moment, but his face was frozen with anger for Lord Blackwell, who looked both startled and guilty that he had upset her.
Her thoughts for Cartell, her worry for his life, her concern with the power that he now had within him, the ache in her heart for the feeling that he had abandoned her, mixed with her renewed contempt for Blackwell and her embarrassment had turned to tears that threatened to fall. Her heart would soon burst and she did not want to be in anyone’s presence when she broke down, so she hastened her step since there was so many eyes watching her. She could feel their stare. Serena met Lord Velris and curtseyed, not being able to meet his eyes. “Tonight has been wonderful, my Lord, but I feel inclined to retire, if you would forgive me.”
Velris looked at her with concern, for her mood had been altered greatly. “If you are unwell I could send for a doctor.”
She did at last meet his gaze. He was taken aback that she was crying, and she quickly lowered her face so that it could not be seen. “No, my health is good, I just –“
“You need not say another word, my Lady. A good night to you.” He turned his body so that she may pass.
After Serena fled, Velris strode to Blackwell, catching his forearm and wrenching it upwards. Blackwell hissed, but he did not protest.
“Just what did you do to make our Lady so vexed?” Lord Velris asked darkly.
Velris looked around momentarily at the shocked guests, then tugged Blackwell after him towards the end of the hall near where the orchestra played.
“I didn’t mean any harm… I was only trying to make light conversation…”
“What did you say?” He demanded.
“She spoke of love and I teased her. It was only a game…”
Velris dropped his arm. “You do not play games with this lady. She is not a courtesan that you can flirt with and tease. She is fragile.”
“I know, I know.” Blackwell rubbed his forearm.
“Do you? Do you indeed?” Velris was so angry he could have struck him. “If I see you upset our Lady again, you will have to answer to me. Even if you are one of her protectors, if you offend the Lady when she is in my house you offend me. And I would take up the sword against you in the name of her honor.”
Blackwell looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I understand completely. Peace, my lord. Peace. I will take my leave…”
“Go then.” Velris moved to the side.
“Good evening,” Blackwell nodded and hastened towards the exit, much to everyone’s relief.
Lord Velris seated himself only to see to his guests, trying to choke down his anger with a draught of wine. He had a role to perform and it would have been rude for their host to leave the feast before its conclusion. As they had had their fill of dancing, the party seated themselves, and Velris indicated that dessert was to be served as the table had been cleared while the dance had commenced. As if in silent agreement, the guests quickly ate their desert with little conversation, as the orchestra played soft music. After dessert, one by one the guests retired, first giving their complements to Lord Velris for the excellent feast.
Ro stayed by Andal’s side while the room emptied. She gently let her spoon rest on a half-cleaned plate, the sound strangely loud in the quiet room. “I say we leave him behind,” she turned her eyes on Andal, but whether she was joking or not was not easily read.
She sighed and scooted her chair back. “Would you have a walk with me in the garden, my lord? My blood is stirred and I will not rest.”
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