"-Nothing improper happened, sir," a flustered Dyrk said.
"...See that it doesn't, young man," the surprise visitor said, while seeming partially aloof. Turning to the princess of South Cymru, he continued. "Is this how Guinevere lets her court ladies behave? Like wantons?"
"No, father. T-This was… a fluke," she looked away. It never occurred to either of them that their deeds could reflect on the queen's image. "I thought you were in Cornwall. I mean, we did not expect you."
"That much is obvious," he said with a sarcastic grin. "Now, I must see the king at once."
"He's just returned from Cornwall himself. T'is a wonder you did not travel together," Dyrk said, leading him through the halls. "You have not been here since the wedding, have you not?"
"Right. Not since the wedding," he agreed.
Virginia was about to remind her father that he was here at Pentecost, but thought the better of it.
Entering the king's chamber, the trio interrupted Rokk, Reep and Garth in a hunched discussion.
"King Zendak! How good to see you," Rokk greeted warmly.
"My liege," the guest bowed. "I come here with the most serious of business."
"Then by all means, speak your piece."
"My king, I have heard that you have obtained the Chalice of the Gods."
"It is in safe keeping," Rokk replied.
"It must be. Its powers are so great, it could feed and heal the entire Khund army, if it fell to them! We must place it where none can stumble upon it!" the older men said. "Virginia, I'm sure you have duties among the ladies. I shall see you later."
"Yes, father," Virginia meekly curtsied and retreated.
"You say it is safe, my king, and I must take you at your word," continued the guest. "But what if one who knows the truth has a slip of the tongue? All of Britain could see ruin if the Chalice falls into evil hands!"
"What do you suggest?"
"We must test each who knows of the Chalice and where it is kept. Only so can we do our duty to protect this isle."
In the room beyond, Imra nodded to Mysa. "That's not Zendak any more than I."
[ December 26, 2005, 07:30 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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posted
Notes 139-148: I'll begin with connecting the dots that I've assumed you have already, plus a little bit of irrelevant background information that probably won't come up in story. The name Amhlaidh, as we've previously established, is the Gaelic for Auley, or rather vice-versa: Auley was an Anglicized version of Amhlaidh (but since I' writing in English, not Latin...), but the names come from the Norse Olaf. Thus, I've decided Olaf was a young Norse prince, who marries into the court of what is now the Edinburgh area - not yet Scottish, not Pictish, but the Brythonic Celts predominant throughout central and southern Britain (kin to today's Welsh and Cornish), a matrilineal people. But Olaf (never actually a king, only the queen's consort) and his first Mrs. bear no daughters, only sons, of which Lot is heir to the throne. He and daddy make alliances with Norse kin (called 'Northmen' throughout the story; hence the number of mixed Scandinavian/Celtic people like Stig, a Celt with a Scand name, and Berach, vice versa) to keep the land safe, and Lot begins asserting Scandinavian-style patriarchal rule - even renaming the land Lothian after himself. By the time Auley has a daughter - Caelestia - Lot and his sons are too well entrenched (although you never know...). So what's the Legion connection? Well, as we've seen, 'Mac' means 'son of.' Put that together with Auley, add in kids (from a later non-royal Mrs.) named Caelestia and Leyllain, and there you have it. Onward! 139: The Fir Bolg and the Fomorians weren't necessarily the same race, mythologically speaking, but neither were they necessarily different. I chose to combine them. Balor was indeed their one-eyed god of justice, so what became of his other eye? Also, the language/name gods smiled on me. Saraid is indeed an authentic Irish name, more fitting than a Russian- or Hebrew-sounding names I'd considered. 140: Poor Nura. Things do not get better for a while yet. And I just couldn't give Marcus credit for the name. Neustria was indeed a region of Clovis' Frankish kingdom. Roughly the area we know as Normandy (so it made sense they'd want in on the Roxxius hunt), plus slightly farther inland. I borrowed Lucius from MZB, but haven't yet looked to see if he's historical. Expect to see him again. I don't remember if I've said where Portus Magnus is, although it's come up a few times. It's on Portsmouth Harbour, next to the Isle of Wight (Vectis, the isle Dyrk was trying to get to a while back). Ys and Hybrasil are basically Celtic Atlantises 141/144: I've been meaning to explore Querl's 'Green Man' reaction for a while (since Cailleach brought it to my attention, in fact). So I knew Querl would be involuntarily on his own at some point. I figured one from Mediterranean lands may be better versed in aquatic emergency protocols, but yes, it's probably a stretch. So sue me. And finally I got to the Belt! I'd planned it to be earlier, but Querl wasn't ready and willing until now. 142/146: It took me a while to figure out who would fill this niche. Ossian's three centuries in Faerie are indeed out of legend, so it worked. The Mentum was a more appropriate term than the original LSH term, although I almost went back to make it another Chalice/Grail issue. But there are plenty of them yet ahead. 143: Looking back, I'm actually surprised how little Winifred's inserted herself into the story. I'll probably get around to it eventually in the story, but I see no harm in letting on it was she in the cloak way back when Caradoc first attacked the camping trip, and her that Belinant met after placating the same knights (without Gawaine). 145: Had to get around to building the damn thing eventually! 147: Deva is Chester. 148: I had to get Manaugh off the Auley family for at least a little while!
[ December 26, 2005, 07:31 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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My description of the Cornish coast at Tintagel comes from my own experience in 1991. I was approaching by bus, and saw a shimmering in what appeared to be the sky. I came to realize it was out at sea - where the sky ended and the sea began was otherwise invisible.
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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Each impact seemed to set yet another building aflame.
"Flee you fools," laughed the sorceress. She smirked at the confusion that allowed her to escape her pursuers.
"Glorith!" A woman's voice challenged her.
"You would be... Mysa. Come no closer or I'll hurl a falling star at you, too!"
"You may fool the masses into thinking you're responsible for this. We both know you only take advantage of coincidence."
"You are less the sorceress than I'd imagined if you believe in coincidence," sneered Glorith. "Your young king may mock that he has fooled the great Glorith, but I come away with more than you realize!"
As if on cue, a falling star landed nearby, and Mysa lost sight of her quarry with the thunderous burst of impact.
What did she mean? she wondered. She had learned the Cauldron was not within Londinium’s walls, yes... but he had also taken measure of Rokk and his companions, and would not be so easily toyed with again.
Zounds! We should have intercepted the Zendak imposter before entering the palace. And we thought we had the sole grant on surveillance!
We have won the battle, but our sole spoil was embarrassing the sorceress-queen. She may hold the upper hand, and the choice of next battle!
Returning to the palace. Mysa also realized that no matter what she says, the Court - and indeed all Londinium - will believe Glorith called down the stars themselves upon the city.
[ December 26, 2005, 07:33 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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The Teachers had promised her more challenges and duties than those she'd been mired in at the Priestess' Isle, yet even here it was more of the same.
Even worse, she seemed far more isolated than she had before. The Priestesses could at least reach Glastonbury's shore with regular ease; while the Teachers' gateway led to Londinium, it was a much harsher path to take.
On a rare late afternoon free, she strolled aver the causeway to the Tor Isle, and climbed the hill. She sat back on one of the large stones of the circle atop the Tor, and rested. Looking out over the shiny sea, she wondered what it would be like to be free, to sail away, exploring the world and hunting for treasures...
Zoe did not realize when she drifted off to sleep, but was vaguely aware of being on a large Roman ship, bound the Land of Youth far to the west.
"I'll be the first to see," she told herself, manning a forward observation post.
A boat sailed near them. "It's Brendan, returning from the Blessed Land of the Saints," cried a woman Zoe had seen at King Rokk's court - a woman who had two identical sisters.
How did she get here? Zoe asked herself, realizing she was dreaming.
She suddenly was back at the Tor, still aware she was asleep, but suddenly everything seemed crystal clear, clearer than real life felt. She stood, looking down on her sleeping body.
"Is this our life, Zoe?" she asked herself. Seeing herself clearer than any lake reflection, she noticed how she had been fashioning herself after Mysa, her one-time idol and mentor. "Is this all there is?"
"What more do you need, sister?"
Zoe turned to see a beautiful maiden before her. She had never seen the woman before, but instantly knew her.
"Arianhrod!" Zoe rushed to recite the proper ritual greeting and salutation.
The Maiden Goddess laughed. "Child, you need not bother with the priestess trapping to summon me. For I have chosen to come to you."
"My Lady?"
"Do you know the tale of the cat on the log?" the Goddess asked.
"Aye."
"Tell me."
"T-The cat is caught on a log in the river, and wants to get to shore. It passes the rock where it can leap to, but she needs to leap from one rock to another. The cat says, 'No, that way it too wet, and the current is too strong.'' The voles on the shore laugh at her, and follow along."
"The cat had other alternatives, though," the Lady smiled.
"Aye. The log comes near a fallen tree. The cat can leap off, but sees a swarm of snakes. 'I am too tired to fight those vipers,' says the cat, and she stays on the log. The voles again laugh, for they know the river, and what comes ahead."
"But then?"
"Then the log gets snagged in an eddy. The cat sees the water is still and shallow, but still does not want to get wet, even though shore is but feet away."
"What does he do?"
"She again waits. But as the log draws near the falls, she has to leap - first to a rock, then along a branch, and then has to wade through an eddy, where upon she snares the voles who chided her, making them her supper."
"The cat benefited and learned from her situation, Zoe," the Goddess smiled. "By not fleeing too soon from a temporary safety into danger.
"You will leave Avalon, Zoe, and you will do so soon. But not until you have learned what you need to. There is plenty of danger, and not just to you, if you stray from your path."
"I yearn for freedom and adventure, my Lady."
"Adventure you shall have. And freedom? Freedom is what you make of it, be it illusion or a more subtle form of snare. This world, this era, is not easy for a young woman to find freedom." Seeing Zoe scowl, she added, "You shall know a freedom, however painful it may be. That I promise you, Zoe."
She awoke with a shiver. Night was falling, and an unseasonably cold wind with it.
[ December 26, 2005, 07:34 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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posted
Mr Kent Shakespeare, you're story telling is absolutely awesome. I have read this 4 times, and cannot wait for some more. Please do not stop here.
From: Durban, South Africa & Auckland, New Zealand. | Registered: Nov 2004
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Thanks, Karie! Sorry that work, illness and side projects have taken me away from this.Trying to get back into it.
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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"In all truth, my sister, I know not that Rokk's command was wrong."
Mysa had never seen her sister-in-law so distressed. "The fevers were not your fault, Imra. Never have I seen the summoning of the Lady - in any of her forms - draw such a pox."
"How do you explain it, then?" sobbed Imra.
"Perhaps... Perhaps it was this... Terminus' doing."
"You think thus?"
"It makes as much sense as anything," Mysa said. "The god Terminus told you that you would be his agent. At the same time, the pox removed your confidence and credibility - not just to yourself, but to Rokk."
"That limits my usefulness as his tool," Imra rebutted.
"Aye. Limits. Terminus' domain is limits, is it not? If he truly wanted your agency, to manipulate you, why tell you? You'd be more effective as an unwitting pawn. Think of all Kiwa's games."
Imra nodded slowly, taking it all in. "So, why then? Did he not wanting us to learn of Manaugh's village?"
"Nay; I think not. Speaking with Father Marla and Brother Jan, I have been learning more of the Christians," Mysa said.
"And?"
"And the Church of Rome claims its authority from a lineage of the oldest established church, some three centuries or so in the past. But we know from Avalon that-"
"-Joseph of Arimathea established his church at Glastonbury more than 400 years ago." Imra blurted.
Mysa nodded. "If Terminus is still... bound to Rome, he, like the city, is throwing his lot in with the Eternal City itself, which means the Church-"
"-But if the Church of Britain predates the Roman Church-"
"-Rome's legacy and authority is undermined. Terminus wants that not, nor does Cailleach want Britain to become the center of Christianity," Mysa concluded.
"So. It really wasn't about me, was it?" Imra said with renewed confidence "With me out of the game-"
"-Rokk wins or loses on his own merits, regardless of Avalon," Mysa continued sharing sentences with the queen.
"But that means they intend to see Rokk fail, so that British Christianity does not prosper," Imra said, wondering if that end could be achieved without Rokk's fall.
"Aye. But Rokk must still defeat the Khund. The gods may not care if Britain is over-run, but we must," Mysa concluded.
"Who... Who stands with us?"
"Azura. I've also been speaking to some of the other court women. I... don't believe we should embarrass Rokk in front of the men-folk, so let the court ladies quietly make this stand as one."
[ December 26, 2005, 07:36 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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The Romans had laid waste to this Druidic community centuries ago. He knew there was yet hatred for that act - a Dark Circle of hate - but he was here for other reasons.
The Irish boatman spoke poor Latin, and it took them several tries to communicate. The process was one of frustration, and Balin had thrown his arms up and walked, pacing in circles before trying to resume.
The boatman insisted on staying the night encamped at the ruins. Smelling a trap, Balin stuffed a pile of weeds under his cloak, and piled it alongside his campfire, so a nocturnal attacker would think it was he. His sleep was a cold one, between the night and his armor. He took no chances and slept lightly.
Toward morning, a group of knights - five of them, it appeared - entered the camp, calling greetings in several tongues - some he recognized, some he didn't.
The Irish boatman had led them, as he suspected. Six-to-one wasn't the best odds, but he'd have surprise on his side-
One of them, sniffing turned and looked right at him, as if he could smell him. He looked like a woodland beast, sure enough.
The others turned, too. A big, burly man, two women and a fellow with a rather large head.
"Greetings, sir knight," called the latter, speaking Latin with a Manx accent. "We come as friends."
Cautiously, he stepped forward.
Could the Irishman have misinterpreted his needs? He only wanted to get to the Island of Man - not enlist its warriors.
Still, six against a sorceress-queen were better odds than one - if he could trust them.
[ December 26, 2005, 07:38 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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Querl smiled at Ayla's observation. It was true; he felt more confident about venturing out beyond Londinium without being part of a full contingent.
With Genni running relay orders to the coastal forts, he surprised many by volunteering to deliver orders to Eboracum. In truth, he wanted to see Eboracum's defenses, and how a Computus would fit there - and also to see more of the isle.
Villagers still treated him with reverence, but he believed this would pass as people adjusted to him. And the belt continued to function when the occasional brigand stuck.
En route home, he and Ayla were accosted in a village that claimed to be assaulted by monsters.
Huge, strange footprints corroborated this, tracks they followed to a glade along the River Trent.
"What manner of creature is that?" Ayla whispered. The two stayed hidden behind a cluster of shrubs.
"Why, it is an elephant. A creature of Abyssinia," Querl declared. "Despite its size, it is a peaceful plant-eater, generally."
"How did it get here?"
"A merchant ship, no doubt. But I know not why." He stood and approached the beast.
"A big creature like you is nothing to be feared, is it?" Querl called out, surmising its captivity for transport must have made it sociable enough. Ayla stood in amazement.
The beast turned, and only then did Querl see the spears and axe imbedded in the other side of its head, and the feral look in its eyes.
Seeing his mistake, he began backing away.
The beast quivered and began charging forward.
Does my belt work against creatures incapable of being persuaded? Querl wondered, turning to run himself. This wasn't the place to experiment.
Ayla screamed, and sought cover herself. The forest here was not thick enough to provide much cover; the thin young trees brushed aside like weeds before the beast. Nervously, she started to summon a burst of lightning, but then considered the likelihood of setting the woods aflame.
Just as Querl was about to be underfoot, a feral war-cry echoed through the woods, and a smaller beast - vaguely human but clearly animalistic - leapt up, seemingly from nowhere, and delivering a fierce blow to the elephant's ear.
The beast reared up, while its attacker bounced away to a nearby tree, leaping again as the small trunk swayed with his weight.
Landing on the ground, Querl saw the figure - a cross between a man and a wolf.
His growl resonated deeply, and soon even the elephant, once its rearing ceased, was cowed, and it fled back toward the river.
"My thanks, friend," said Querl.
"Mine, too," said Ayla. "I am Ayla, and this is Querl."
"You're from Rokk's court," the creature said. "I've heard of you."
"Would you like to join us?" Ayla said. "I'm sure the king would-"
"-Want no part of me, nor I of him." With that, the beast-man fled into the woods.
"Extraordinary," Querl remarked. "I wonder if he's the other beast that's afflicted the villagers."
"Querl, he saved your life! Give him a benefit of goodwill."
[ December 26, 2005, 07:39 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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"Yes, my king. King Winn of Cumbria will be unable to attend midsummer festivities. It appears that his dragon problems are continuing."
Rokk sighed. "Again, with dragons. It has become his life's quest, it seems, to follow this beast. Perhaps I should dispatch Jonah, who knows his way around dragons, to end this problem once and for all."
"Jonah cannot be spared from Eboracum," Garth said. "And with Iasmin doing so well in training the new cavalry riders..."
"Ha! You just want to slay a dragon yourself," my friend," Rokk laughed. "Very well, then. If Winn hasn't dealt with it by midsummer, then you shall depart to do it for him." Seeing his friend's glee, he added, "But - You must be here for my midsummer festivities."
"Of course, my king. I shan't miss it."
"What other business have we before we can retire to the good supper awaiting us?"
"I've received word from Genni," Reep said. "It seems that while coastal fortifications mostly haven't met their schedules, the beacon towers are progressing magnificently."
"Splendid! We shall at least get word of a Khundish attack and respond in haste," Rokk smiled.
"And," Reep continued, "All three strategic fortresses - Eboracum, Cadwy's Fort and Camulodunum, are functional and manned."
"I've decided to rename Camulodunum," Rokk said. "I want something... less Roman, that all Britain's children may accept it.
"Camelot. How does that sound?"
Garth and L'ile eyed each other, nodding. It had a ring to it.
"What say you, Reep?"
"In truth, I am more concerned with its form than its name. I could live with a 'Dun Khund morte' if it was a defensible structure," he smiled. "Camelot. I could get used to it."
"Sir?" A page appeared at the door to Rokk's hall.
"What is it?"
"Queen Guinevere and her ladies would like an audience."
[ December 26, 2005, 07:41 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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"Hey, Bad-Coat. How fare you with those dishes?" Reep chided.
"Almost done... sir," the lad scowled. He'd been one month at the court, and had yet to earn an opportunity to prove his worth. Perhaps at the mid-summer jousts...
"Why do they call you Bad-Coat?" asked a man he had seen around but knew not.
"I came to court wearing my late father's coat, which fits me not. I am Brunor the Black, of Elmet."
"And I am Tenzil the beefeater. You came to be a knight, not a kitchen boy."
"Aye."
"I... can see if any of the knights need squires. Perhaps Sir Garth-"
"NO!" Second-guessing his harsh reaction, Brunor added, "Please, no. Sir Garth and I have settled our ill will, but I doubt either of us would be comfortable with that arrangement."
Tenzil nodded, and smiled. Rare was the lad who didn't idolize Garth, but plentiful were the family black sheep, blackguards who fell to Garth's lightning-quick sword.
At least the lad has seen the sense to serve King Rokk, rather than follow the path of villainy, Tenzil thought.
Sir Garth's head shall yet be mine, Brunor plotted.
[ December 26, 2005, 07:42 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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Rokk looked around at the sea of faces. All nodded, almost in unison.
Laoraighll had been nothing but loyal, and even brought magickal artifacts to prove her worth - as if her fighting ability and legend weren't enough.
Luornu was now suddenly among Imra's fiercest defenders, despite theological differences. He still held a soft spot in his heart for her, a remnant of an adolescent crush.
Lu, who had kept her distance from Imra, had spoken eloquently of the strength of Celtic queens and chieftesses. She spoke words of wisdom to Rokk's goal of keeping all Britons united.
Iasmin, who cared for Imra not at all, came to the queen's defense admirably, admonishing without rebuking, and suggesting solutions rather than reflecting on past decisions. What an emissary she'd make, Rokk thought.
Mysa, Laurentia, Siobhan, Virginia, Genni, Drusilla, Jancel... all supported their queen, whether through word, pleas or unspoken loyalty. It took bravery to call a king wrong, and Rokk was both infuriated and impressed with Imra's ladies.
Even little Saihlough, newly returned from her self-imposed exile, stood with the womenfolk.
He sighed. "Perhaps I was hasty in my proclamation. I grant you that."
He stood and paced. There was an art to how a king could give in without losing face.
"The order I gave was based upon most of you," he added for emphasis, "were taken ill by a magickal pox. I do not lightly make such order, nor do I wish to diminish my queen's standing - to me, to the court, to Britain or the world, therefore...
"So long as any of you practice magicks... each and every one of you must take every pain to avoid ANY unforeseen effects. Saihlough, it's very good to have you back, but I fear this must apply to you, too.
"Any magicks must be made known to me before they are done, save for fair and true emergencies, such as siege. Glorith's escape does make it plain that we do need magicks on our side, but...
"Any adverse magicks must be dealt with as if they were deliberate," Rokk concluded. "If any spells accidentally kill a peasant, I must treat it as if you stabbed him yourselves. Consider that... added incentive to be careful."
"Any magicks are deliberate?" Saihlough asked.
"Any magicks will be considered deliberate," he said, eying her.
Even curses? Saihlough asked without speaking, though not the way Imra does - not an echo in the mind, but a whisper upon the wind.
Even curses, he replied. What I ask of others I must ask of myself.
[ December 26, 2005, 07:43 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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"His name is Kartharn. He was my father's assistant, once," said the blacksmith.
"What happened to him?" Ayla asked.
"No one knows for sure. Some say he was bitten by another creature - another wolf-man. And that it overtook him, like a pox there is no root for."
Querl nodded. "I have heard of such... were-men before. But I never believed..."
"There must be some way to bring him back to humanity," Ayla pleaded. Brin was both surprised and impressed with her compassion for their strange benefactor.
"I suspect that he would reject any helping hand. Better to let him run free in the woods," the blacksmith said, not without pity.
"But the villagers-"
"All of Xun jumps at shadows and believes that goblins ruin their crops. They'll not harm anyone, I'll wager - least of all him."
"Well... thank you for your help, kind sir," Querl said, sensing they would gain no further information from the man.
"You may call me Brin. Please come by again."
Wandering away, Querl waited until they were out of earshot before comparing notes.
"I'll wager my Computus that he knows more than what he's said," Querl said.
"But how do we find out more? How do we find the wolf-man?"
"I suspect we'll find out more this very eve."
[ December 26, 2005, 07:45 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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The court was abuzz with preparations for midsummer.
How quickly the year has passed, Mysa dwelled absent-mindedly. She sat staring out the courtyard window, letting Virginia brush her hair. The girl is eager to please. I pray Dyrk preys not too hard on her young heart.
She watched Garth stroll across the courtyard below. Last summer, he was sharing her bed. But now he was growing more distant, more bitter... more enchanted with a love he dared not reach for.
Mysa sighed. She was old enough to expect a young man's attentions and affections to wander away, yet she missed him. No, she missed being the center of his attention - and the feeling that her distraction of the knight provided a key service to the security of the kingdom. Perhaps young Virginia and I are not so different, she thought.
"What of yon Garth?" asked Siobhan. Like many of the court ladies, she was busy weaving new garments for the upcoming festivities.
"What of him?" laughed Iasmin.
"It is not well-suited that he is without a bride? Why, Sir Gaw- Sir Jonah will be wed this autumn. Should not the king's best knight?"
The other ladies laughed.
"You sound eager to volunteer, sister," chided Virginia, who knew better. She knew her sister held her own brand of unrequited love in her heart.
"Nay. Well, I would not turn an offer down, but... Well, must I say it? We all see how he looks at the queen-"
"Siobhan!" scolded Laurentia.
"Well, he does! Sooner or later, tongues will wag."
"Aye, as yours wags," laughed Iasmin. I think that's enough."
"She has a point," Luornu said. "I realize the queen is of Avalon, and not a Christian, but even so-"
"-It is best that people believe any heirs are indeed King Rokk's," Siobhan said. "Surely none can argue t'would be better for Garth to have a bride to occupy his fancies. What say you Mysa? You two were close."
"Were close. He'd only grudgingly take me for a bride, I fear, even if I were able to."
"Why not?" asked Laurentia. "Why the king's own sister? How could he do better?"
"I-I-"
"You've put Mysa on the spot, ladies," Iasmin stepped to her defense. "I dare say we should speak of other things-"
"I'd marry him," said Jancel, leaning at the window, half swooning. "I'd be his wife in a heart-beat."
The ladies laughed.
"Aye, you would, Jancel? You and half this kingdom," said Luornu.
Jancel, eh? Be careful for what you wish, child, Mysa thought. She knew Garth was heading for Cumbria after midsummer - Jancel's homeland. How hard would it be to arrange - ?
She stopped herself. That's the same sort of plotting Kiwa would do, and how I hated her for it! Yet the idea hung there. How better to keep Garth away from Imra?
Jancel had the same build as Imra, only a few years younger, and the same fair hair. The right lighting, the right magicks... who knows?
[ December 26, 2005, 07:47 PM: Message edited by: Hey you ]
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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