[NORESTA - Belleverde: Castle’s Service entrance]
[Late evening]
-- Clara..please..
The duchess was adorned plainly.
She wore the garb of a servant under her cloak. Her copper coloured hair, pinned back neatly.
The lack of jewels upon her person seemed odd but it did little to take away from her natural beauty.
Her little lips pouted pink in questioning
Clara: But what if he gets worse along the way? It’s such a long distance
By the hand, her husband took her and in a low register, he instructed
Silas: ..I already ordered them to take the Espian route to get you there.
Clara: But my dear, the Banko route is much shorter and Oliver is still..
She quieted, failing to conclude as the duke gently brushed her cheek with his. Upon it, he gave a quick kiss.
Mere inches apart were his lips from the lady’s when most earnestly he said to them
Silas: I know, I know but listen to me..
Full of love and tears, the duchess looked up into her husband's eyes.
Henri, for fear of witnessing their affections once more, turned away. Yet, he did hear his master’s instruction to
Silas: …trust me. We cannot delay any further. Travel the Espian route, I promise it’ll be less troublesome
They shared a brief kiss.
And Silas, reaching for his son from his nurse, bounced him in his arms and lovingly questioned the child
Silas: Will you be a brave boy for daddy?
But the young child didn't answer.
Instead, he placed his head upon his father’s shoulder feigning sleep.
From his eyes, the duchess gently swept his wavy golden coloured hair and placed her hand upon his forehead
Clara: His fever still persists..
To the boy’s nurse, Silas then directed
Silas: Keep him warm on the journey there.
-- Yes, Your Grace.
Silas: Be good for mummy..
And he kissed his son upon his flushed plump cheek. Tickled by it, the child smiled and squirmed.
Handing him into the arms of his caretaker, the child nestled.
Silas: ..and daddy will see you soon, alright?
Oliver: …
He took hold of the duchess’ hand once again and urged
Silas: Do not stop for anything. Go directly there and wait for me. I’ll be along soon.
Squeezing her slender hands, he kissed them. Something was whispered. And in giving a quick peck on her lips, he watched her depart.
He should’ve remained firm.
Adherence to the plan was essential. Yet when Clara spoke, his heart softened.
And now, instead of her being sent days, weeks ago, as he had intended, they were rushed with that self-righteous commander of a duke at their backs.
Oliver fell ill. Thus, he delayed. Unforeseen, yet..
Silas: -sigh- Have you readied your things?
Henri: Yes, m’lord…but..erm..
Silas: What is it now, Henri?
Lowering his voice he replied
Henri: The messenger. He…he took offence and chose to depart.
Silas: ….
Thinking that his master would be displeased with him, Henri shook in nervous wait.
Instead, most relieved was he to hear
Silas: Well, one less uninvited guest.
Henri: Yes, Sire
Silas: Good. Have your things placed onto the other carriage. You're to follow Clara toward the cabins.
Henri: Sire? The cabins? What about you? Are you not coming along? You cannot-
Silas: Don’t start now with your questions, Henri!
Henri: …
Silas: Simply do as I instruct.
Henri: apologies...yes, sire
While his servant shrank with worry, Silas checked his pocket watch and said
Silas: The boats have been made ready. Should I not arrive before dawn…Well, the servants were already instructed. They’ll take everyone somewhere..safe.
Henri was looking at him with pleading and shining eyes.
Silas sighed and placed a hand on his loyal servant. Softening his tone, he stated reassuringly
Silas: Sometimes, you must sacrifice a piece in order to win the game..
Henri: …
Silas: ..You needn't worry. All is not lost. Get on now.
He gently nudged him, pushing him ahead; toward the waiting carriages.
Henri nodded and made for a simple wooden coach; unaware that that moment would be the last he ever would see of his master.
**
**
[SHORTLY AFTER]
*
[NORESTA - Belleverde: Duke Winsford’s Parlour]
[Late evening]
**
{This is checkmate I suppose. Yet…by now they should be following the decoys and Maynard in place after tending to that infuriating pigeon..}
Silas: ..yes. To you, Sir Rícard, my answer is this..your suspicions are misplaced.
C. Commander Rícard: …
Silas: The words of some dead officer who disobeyed protocol and found himself where he ought not to, serves little as proof.
With slyness and smoothness he dressed his words.
And silent pleasure was taken.
By Sir Rícard that is, for he gave a tiny nod and a soft little smile.
C. Commander Rícard: In His Majesty’s presence proof shall be provided.
Silas: …
C. Comm. Rícard: We are simply here to give notice of the charges you face and to escort you, Sir Winsford, to Moorspeak where you’ll give answer to His Eminence.
Silas: …Understood.
C. Comm. Rícard: …
Silas: I shall go with you. Know however, my subjects won’t take kindly to having their lord taken from them at a time such as this.
C. Comm. Rícard: They should have naught to be concerned about during your absence. Afterall, their lord is innocent and will return shortly.
In the quiet stare off following, no one moved.
Until Silas, relenting and easing the tense air, lowered his head in acknowledgement and said
Silas: ..Yes, very well. ..If it is by His majesty’s orders, then I shall certainly comply.
**
**
[LOCATION - Enroute to gatehouse]
Northern Comm. : Should the duke truly be trusted, Commander?
C. Cmdr. Rícard: For now, yes. And we must also take his explanations as truth..
***
Temporarily under house arrest, the duke, confined to his chambers, had a handful of officers stationed to keep watch over him.
Before departure, Sir Rícard granted his host time to make ready a few personal things, inclusive of the supposed investigation reports.
In the meanwhile, command of the castle and its servants and guards fell to him. And now he sought to give entry to the Imperial army stationed outside the walls.
With the starry heavens spread out above, the group discussed amongst themselves as they made for the front gates.
A few paces behind, along with the remaining officers and Charlotte, (who; observing his befuddled expression, was about to quietly question him), Commander Jenkins, expressed
Comm. Jenkins: But Sir..
He called with a questioning tone, motioning himself forward.
Comm. Jenkins: Why only present the late Officer McKenzie’s statements?
Northern Comm. : …
Comm. Jenkins: Forgive me, but we know the duke is clearly lying. There would’ve been absolutely no escape for him if he were made aware of Commander Maynard’s son.
Under the pressure of both the northern commander’s calm gaze and the general clearing his throat suggestively, he silently wished himself someplace else while hating himself for speaking
Cmdr. Rícard: Is that what you would’ve done, Commander Jenkins?
Charlotte: …
Comm. Jenkins: Uh..Well, no..uhm..
Cmdr. Rícard: And why not?
Comm. Jenkins: uh..I- I suppose that would be because, uh- to present anything else could make him wise to His Majesty’s plans..?
Northern Comm. : …
Cmdr. Rícard: Correct…
At his slump of relief, Charlotte hid her smile, then Sir Rícard continued
Cmdr. Rícard: Also, all saw and heard from his lips to repeatedly profess loyalty. When he faces interrogation, any one or more of the officers that were present, may act as witnesses to that fact.
General: I’m surprised that he didn’t put up much of a fight.
Northern Comm. : As am I. Though, I don’t believe that he’ll come along quietly. He’s sure to be demanding and troublesome.
General: Can’t speak if we drag him all the way to Moorspeak by his forked tongue, now can he?
Cmdr. Rícard: For the most part, though he is guilty, respect should still be given.
Comm. Jenkins: …
General: Yes, Commander.
Northern Comm. : Understood, Commander.
–- Rícard!!
Northern Comm. : ..Behind us.
Coming to a stop, everyone slowly turned.
Naturally, Commander Rícard took front the group and the man greeted him saying
Commander Maynard: Well, well Rícard..
Adorned in a commander’s uniform, he appeared as though he were a golden egg.
In one hand he swung, seemingly absentmindedly, a small sack. The other rested upon the hilt of his sword, while his rotund figure grew as he neared.
Locking eyes with no one else, he wore a strange smile.
Commander Maynard: ..Leaving us already?
Cmdr. Rícard: Not quite.
Commander Maynard: Oh?
He questioned mockingly looking at the group then towards the shut front gates
Cmdr. Rícard: ….
Commander Maynard: That’s a shame. But it does appear that you're missing a member from your group.
A couple of officers glanced around but Sir Rícard’s attention remained solely on the eastern commander.
None.
There were no missing officers. All were accounted for. As to what Maynard wanted, he could only guess
Cmdr. Rícard: What is it you want, Commander Maynard?
He laughed and said
Commander Maynard: Oh? What do I want? No..I brought you something. A parting gift.
Then threw the bag at his feet saying flatly
Commander Maynard: Here.
Something tumbled out.
Difficult to distinguish at first, yet it appeared to be made of feathers.
C. Maynard: Your damn messenger pigeon.
Seething, he drew his sword.
Not the two men squaring off, but the northern commander. Who stood ready to pounce and kill at any moment given the word.
However, no orders to do such came his way.
Cmdr. Rícard: …
C. Maynard: Losing control over those dogs of yours, Rícard.
To himself, he chuckled. Pleased by the soured expression of Sir Rícard and the crazed commander.
No longer upon the dead bird was his attention.
For from shadowy places within the gatehouse, figures began to show themselves most present.
Eastern officers. And their numbers slowly grew behind a now cackling Maynard.
C. Maynard: Now that you mention it..What is it that I want?
Cmdr. Rícard: …
C. Maynard: I want your head, Rícard. I want it clean off your shoulders and under my boot. Will you give it to me?
He meant his words and also meant to take what he wanted, instantly grabbing the hilt of his sword.
Cmdr. Rícard: I warn you, Commander. Draw your sword and you shall declare yourself to be an enemy, a traitor to His Eminence.
The hysterical laughter while withdrawing his weapon, gave his answer before declaring
C. Maynard: You’re fucking dead, Rícard!
She killed a man. She shot him in the chest.
This thought, among many others, would not occur however until long after the evening had passed.
Bow in hand, and the other around Jerry’s waist, Violet, spared scarce a thought.
She held on as he manoeuvred along the dirt path.
The path undulated and wove between towering thick trees. Further and further away from their friends, and into the depths of the forest.
They had abandoned Anna and Alex.
Almost the very instant the footman hit the ground dead, Jerry had swooped across and scooped her up, hurtling down the pathway.
Several hooves pounded at their backs. The general’s men were immediately in pursuit.
Behind her neck, hairs prickled.
It was as if someone or many someones were breathing down it.
-fwip!
-fwip!
-fwip!
-fwip!
Her heart leaped up into her throat.
Arrows closely flitted by. Dangerously close.
Riding along this open path, their backs, especially hers, were easy targets. They were too exposed.
Should they continue on this way, it would not be much longer before one pierced her spine.
{We’re too exposed. We need to get off the path. We need to..}
To either side, dense trees provided cover. And arrows would find it difficult to hit its mark.
The only problem, or problems were, under cover of night and riding at this speed within an unknown terrain could prove disastrous.
The forest floor naturally hid boulders and large roots and sudden falls with unknown depths under heavy grass cover.
One wrong move and-
-fwip!
-fwip!
-fwip!
Violet: Jerry! We need…-the path!
Jerry: WHAT?!
-fwip!
Violet: Ah! -THE PATH!
Jerry: The path?!
Violet: WE NEED TO- Ah!!.. OFF! NOW!
Perhaps he still didn’t quite hear. For he gave a questioning cry. Only there was no time for questioning.
Violet tugged him once more.
And he then hurled them toward the treeline.
Down and into the forest’s dense shadows their horse leaped.
The sharp drop made her yelp and she tightly shut her eyes.
Bouncing all the while, the rough terrain jerked and unsteadied her. Tightening her embrace at Jerry’s back, their bodies pressed together.
Branches clawed and scratched.
And like hunting dogs, those two-faced easterners gave chase. Unrelenting.
The sudden descent hadn’t tripped any of them up.
Eventually, the uneven ground flattened out and Jerry
Jerry: Hold on!
Under a strong branch. Over a large rock.
Violet chanced a look behind and fell unprepared for the next jump but held on.
They wove through brushes picking up the pace until-
Somehow, they returned to the main dirt path.
Violet: Hold us steady!
She next took a waiting aim behind her.
-fwip!
To her relief, one fell.
Yet, this did nothing to slow the others.
They all leaped over their comrade while keeping her in sight.
Fear climbed down into her heart.
For in that instant, she realised that sooner or later-
Her friends were far behind. Possibly already no more. And Jerry and her couldn't run forever.
Even so, the thought to escape, to fight, to survive persisted.
However, the fleeting feeling of bright hope, mingling with the dark spirit of fear disappeared.
Completely forgot.
With a yelp she fell.
Landing with a snap on the rocky ground. Sharp pain shot through from the back of her head down her legs.
Somewhere, but only faintly, she heard Jerry screaming.
She saw stars. Like fireflies. Little lights twinkled both near and far above her in the evening’s sky.
Blinking them away, she made to get to her feet.
Her attempt to right herself countered with a solid kick to her chest.
Dazed and struggling to breathe, she clutched her chest.
Tears came to her burning eyes as she coughed.
Strangely enough, she didn't feel afraid.
Not that she was suddenly bold and brave and accepted her imminent death but in that moment she unexpectedly felt nothing.
Or maybe, she felt everything all at once.
Perhaps, it overwhelmed her.
Expectation however, the only thing precisely felt as the hazy silhouette of the person about to kill her could be seen.
Expectation of the pain to follow. Expectation of how sharply hot and sudden the pain would-
-Thud!!
Violet: Ah!!
Heavy and lifeless. Her would-be killer unexpectedly fell dead on top of her.
Clashing of metal. Multiple voices, yelling and screaming in panic.
These mixed with an increase of horses' hooves stomping all around and kicking up dirt everywhere.
Violet now found herself enveloped by frenzied sounds.
Pushing and scrambling away from the corpse, she sat in a bewildered state.
Then, an ominous feeling took hold and that prickly feeling at the back of her neck returned.
Slowly, she turned.
Amidst the chaos, she beheld a tall figure.
He approached. His sword glinted in the moonlight.
And he made directly for her, a limp in his step. Yet Violet could immediately tell by his bearing, that he was a southerner.
➵
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